#err....happy new year!!

[s-4pphics]

click!: in frame. 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 11.5k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, daddy issues, SA/victim blaming :(, homophobia LOL, anger issues\violence, bad parenting, anxiety, joel standing on bidness, FLUFF!! :3, SMUT… MDNI, ellie bottoms YAAAS, virginity mentions, jealousy😂, dubcon (they’re high), more fingering, brief mentions of cunning lunning, squirting, mult. big Os, err dassit

A/N: YYYYAASSSSSSSS hi… bye 

APRIL, 2014

Happy birthday, babe, you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear, arms wrapped around her neck from behind. Ceniyah’s giggly thank yous fill your ears and heart as you press smacking kisses on her cheek. 

I made you something… You reach behind and grab the rolled-up poster paper sticking out of your backpack, making sure Ceniyah doesn’t turn around. She seems giddy and your heart soars. You hope that all-nighter was worth it. Please, you pray to yourself, please love it. 

Close your eyes and gimme your hand, you say and she listens, palm open in front of your face. You place the scroll in her hand and she gasps. She whips around to face you, shock written all over her, and you giggle. She unrolls the painting and her head instantly falls back, tears jerking behind her glasses. 

Are you seriously crying right now! You pull her tight to your chest and she sobs into your neck, C’mon, baby, stop cryin’! S’okay. You coo and her arms tighten around your waist. 

D-D’you like it? Your face burns when you whisper. 

Are you fucking serious! She squeaks into your neck, It’s beautiful, baby, I love it. T-Thank you—

I love you so much, you mumble, and she says it back. 

You haven’t slept at all. Your body’s going to collapse soon. You hope it’s not during this phone call. 

You ogle at the small card in your hand, pressing the digits into your device before hitting the call button. It rings twice before a bright voice answers. 

“Hello, this is Lisa Meyers speaking. How can I be of service?”

… Interesting intro. “Good morning, um, Professor Meyers?” 

“Yes, how can I help you?” 

“I… we spoke at the coffee shop yesterday. About the… assisting art professors alumni thing.” 

“Oh, of course! How are you, dear?”

“I’m good. Um… I was wondering if you’d have some time to speak with me about it... If that’s cool.”

You can hear her wide smile through the line, “More than cool! Would you be able to come into the office tomorrow?” 

An extra day in the city wouldn’t hurt (it would), “No problem. What time were you thinkin’?” 

“My mornings are always open! How does ten sound?” 

“Sounds like a plan. Uh, thank you,” you say with twitchy fingers. 

“Course, hun! I’ll put you in and I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

You never expected to end up back here. 

The campus art studio looks exactly the same, only now the old portraits, sculptures, ceramics that were lined up on shelves of the display case are all replaced with new, nameless ones. You’re not used to seeing projects that you couldn’t attach a name to in the classroom. Your university years never feel that long ago, but the randomly placed structures are proof of your long-term absence. 

Time is an illusion… Or you’re getting old as fuck and about to be lowered into the ground. Freshmen make you sick(affectionately). 

Professor Meyers explained the position well enough for you to manage on your own. The work you’re doing isn’t difficult: oversee, assist in grading, oversee some more, oversee, and guide. You’re practically getting a check for being the already observant individual that you are. It’s a steal! 

The position only lasts around a month, but Professor Meyers was convinced that it would only take someone as talented as you (her words… although you agree) a week to get on her toes. You vowed to bring your sketchbook every day from here on out, both to yourself and to her, in case you get the inkling of inspiration that you desperately need. 

The job’s a small win. That’s all you could ask for right now. 

Fuck all that shit you said at the start of the week. TAing fucking sucks. And you still haven’t had any inspiration despite all the efforts from the students! Whenever you pick up a utensil, you stab through your paper. You’ve officially lost your touch. You’re a regular bitch with no talent! What the fuck is going on! 

You’ve had numerous breakdowns in bathroom stalls since Monday, and you’re bound to have another one in the next fifteen seconds. Why the fuck did so many students leave their filled water cups on the fucking tables. Guess who has to clean all that shit up! You! Fuck freshman(unaffectionately). 

You’re so happy the halls are empty in between rotations. No one needs to watch you sobbingly wipe down tables splattered with paint. 

After Professor Ronson’s room is tidy, you start prepping the board for the next rotation of students. They’re learning about anatomy today; There’s bound to be at least three students that scribble tiny dicks in the corner of their starter pages. You hate it here. 

You open the drawer to retrieve all the sharpeners, only to find the container completely empty. You’re sick of the animators not putting shit back. You begrudgingly make your way back down the hall and into Professor Lacey’s room… You should’ve never left.

Your lungs constrict with your gasp and you almost drop your keys. 

A just as shocked Ellie gawks back at you, laminated name tag with YEARBOOK dangling from the camera strap around her neck. 

What the fuck.

Ellie’s either hallucinating or dead. Yeah… She has to be dead. The haunting of your email was too much and she died and now she’s seeing shit—

An angel disguised as you is staring back at her, fist clenched under the sleeves of your sweater, brown eyes just as stunned as hers. Ellie barely has time to gather words before the chains hooked onto the pockets of your jeans jingle as you step out of the room and scurry down the hallway. Ellie’s feet are flying before she can even register their movements, hot on your trail as her camera bounces on her chest. 

She manages to get close enough to grab your bicep, ignoring the stuttering in her heart when she sees the former light in your eyes replaced with something darker. The flourishing storm in your pupils is uncontrollable. 

Ellie drops your arm when she realizes you won’t run, “W-What are you doing here?” 

Your gaze is locked onto the tile squares on the ground. “I-I’m, uh… just enjoyin’ the weather— “

Ellie’s brows pull downward, eyes flicking towards the badge wrapped around your neck. Do you work here? “We’re indoors.” She mumbles dryly. 

“Nothin’ like… the spring rain hittin’ the windows, am I right?“ You huff with a nervous smile, eyes flitting around the hallway as you search for an escape. Ellie’s not having that. 

“We needa talk.” 

You sigh, “I can’t. I’m working.” 

“So am I. Take your break,” Ellie grabs your wrist and drags you back down the hallway, leading you to the bathroom and pushing you into a stall, locking the door behind her. 

Her voice is quiet when she presses, “The fuck are you doing here?” 

Ellie expects you to snap, to push the same questioning back onto her, but you don’t. Your mouth gapes like a fish as you stumble over words. Ellie’s eyes soften when she sees a shaky hand come up to pin a loc behind your ear. You’re shaken up and she instantly notices something off. Your demeanor has shifted immensely since she last seen you and it’s making Ellie’s stomach twist with discomfort. She's never seen you this stunted. 

“What.” Ellie asks when you mumble to the floor. 

“I’m sorry about the email,” You sound winded, “I thought… I dunno. I’m sorry about everythin’.” Your lip starts to quiver as you ramble, “I would’ve never come if I knew, I’m sorry— “ 

… What the hell are you talking about? And why are you crying? 

You sniffle and wipe your tears with your sleeves and Ellie’s fingers itch to comfort, to dry your face herself, but she doesn’t. She watches you weep into your palms for what feels like hours, the air of the restroom suffocatingly tight. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin anything you h — had going on, okay? I’m sorry… I’ll leave right now! You’ll never have to see me again— “

Your sobs are stressing her, “G-Gimme your phone.” Ellie blurts. 

You're already digging in your pocket for your device to unlock it, “W-Why— “

Ellie snatched it from your hand, heart pulling when she sees a photo of younger you being carried by a woman shoved in your case. The same face that was littered all over your apartment, “You wanted to talk so bad, right?” Ellie presses her new number into the pad and calls herself, “You have my number. My…” 

When she looks up, her words get swallowed up; Your eyes still manage to glow under the… horrific bathroom lighting, glittering like stars in the late night. She clears her throat to catch herself, “My shift ends at four. Call me any time after that.” 

Ellie hurries to unlock the stall before leaving you in the bathroom, heart in her throat as she heaves all the way down the hallway to the lounge, shaking her hands to get the jitters out. 

She knew she should’ve never accepted a call from the alumnus association. Fuck the yearbook. 

You clock out with a heavy, anxious heart. 

Three students came up to you and asked for advice on their starter shapes. They were a bit upset when their circles didn’t come out perfect, and you almost cried. It was too sweet. Your bag bounces off your back as you descend the staircase to exit the building. The droplets hit your hood with fever as you skip to your car. You jump into the driver’s seat to turn the heat on, teeth chattering from the evening breeze. 

You check the time on your dash and… it’s way past four. You hope Ellie’s willing to meet. You dial the most recent number and tremble as the phone rings. She answers after the second tone. 

“Hello?” 

She sounds so relaxed, and your shoulders unlock, “… Hi. It’s… me?” 

A lengthy pause, “… Me who?” 

You hide a snort, “Um… ex-roomie?” She chuckles lightly. “Hi.”

“… Hi.” You whisper, “Did you, um… still wanna talk to me?” You think you hear the click of a lighter. 

“Mhm. I’ll send you where I stay at.” 

“Okay… I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yup.” And with that, the line goes dead. Ellie’s location delivers not even a minute later. Her hotel isn’t far from here. . . and fuck, it looks like wealth. Your nerves are nowhere near settled after your last attempt at reconciliation, and paranoia is itching beneath your skin. 

You open your GPS and blast your screamo playlist, hollering your way down the street with your windows down, rain be damned. 

You’re burning holes through Ellie’s hotel room door. 

You haven’t knocked, you haven’t rang. . . you're not even sure if your text of arrival went through. You just stare at the peephole with a clenched jaw. This big bag of Cool Ranch Doritos is doing an excellent job as a stress ball. It’s bound to pop from your grip soon.

Your bladder almost lets loose when the door gets pulled open, nostrils instantly hit with wafts of that forbidden flower. You’re pulled through the small crack by a strong grip before the door is shut and locked behind you. 

Ellie faces you, bare arms on display, and leans back against the door… in those fucking grey sweats. After all this time, they still cause damage to your soul, “Sorry. I don’t wanna get kicked out.” 

“It’s… you’re good.” You point behind her, trying not to gawk at her tattoo, “How’d you know— “

“You breathe loud.” She says simply, tone hushed and raspy. She nods behind you, “Sit down.” 

She follows you to the lounge chairs that face each other. You sit, still tense, suddenly back in therapy, “I-I brought you somethin’.” You push the crumpled bag of chips towards her as she relights her joint. 

Her pink, doe-eyes flit between yours and the bag before she mumbles, “Thank you.” 

“No problem…” You awkwardly set them on the windowsill, swallowing your guilt and deciding to take initiative, “I… I know you have a lot of things going on and I don’t wanna take up too much of your time… I’m just…” 

The loud splattering of raindrops is nerve-wracking, “I wasn’t… I didn’t treat you well. College was a very hard time for me and I didn’t really know how to deal with it without being a bitch—” 

Carbon leaves her nose, “Is that your excuse?”

“N-No, no! I’m not… I’m not tryna avoid blame. I was terrible and you — no one deserved what I put them through… I-I’m really sorry, Ellie… From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.”

Ellie’s silent. You have no idea what she’s thinking; She could be plotting to get you kicked out of her room right now and you wouldn’t know. Her stare isn’t angry, it isn’t anything… she just watches you. Every squeeze of your hands, bounce of your knee, every tic photographed in her memory. Just like before. 

“Why're you back on campus?” 

You exhale the breath you’d been holding, “Um… I gotta, like, TA job, I guess. With the art profs.”  

“Still doing art, then, I guess.”

You stare down at your lap, “Yeah. Trying to.” You croak. 

“Trying?” She asks, brows furrowed. Your shoulders bounce in a shrug. “I, err, hadn’t made anything in a while so… yeah. I thought it’d get me back into it.” 

“Are you?” 

“Hm?”

“Are you back into it?” 

“I don’t know yet.” 

“Why were you so upset when I moved out?” Ellie’s tone shifts into something much more delicate, ready to crack and bleed open at any given moment. You can’t tell her, your brain bellows over the pleads from your heart. You can’t tell her how much you missed her!

Your jaw slacks dumbly as you search for a believable explanation, mind blanking under her scrutinizing stare. 

“I was drunk. I-I don’t remember…” 

“You were drunk and don’t remember.” You cringe at her tone. 

“Ellie… I don’t wanna— “

“Don’t wanna what? Actually be fucking honest?” Your babbles are silenced as she rants. “You reached out to me and you can’t even answer one question honestly. Why’d you even come?” She seems so disappointed in your response, but what can you do? Tell her how every part of your body yearns to be next to her? How you almost collapse when you saw her for the first time in what felt like an eternity? How manipulative would that be after everything you’ve done?

Ellie’s index finger jumps on the armrest as silence takes over once more. She’s deep in thought, it seems, teeth nipping at the skin of her lip. 

“Ellie— “

“When I moved out…” She repeats sternly, “you told me you didn’t want me to go. Why did you say that?” 

It’s on the tip of your tongue: because I’m weak and I like you! I’m sorry I didn’t fight! I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry! 

“B-Because I didn’t want you to go…” You whisper between sniffles, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“Why's that?” 

“I… really liked having you around…” You chose your words very carefully, but they’re not a lie. “You’re… you’re really nice.” 

That seems to satisfy her a little, “I’m really nice?” Ellie’s brow quirks, a tiny smile blossoming on her face. 

“And funny.” You sob, “Like, I laughed a lot.” 

“You’re funny, too,” Ellie says awkwardly while scratching her ear. Your heart pulses. 

Her eyes search yours, “I didn’t know how I would react when you got here. The thought of seeing you really… fucking freaked me out.” She scoffs to herself, and your shoulders begin to droop. “But… um...” She pauses and your pulse pounds in your neck. Tears brim in your ducts. This is when she tells you to leave. To fuck off. To drop dead, for fucks sake—

“I’m glad you reached out.” 

You gawk in disbelief before your bottom lip trembles, “Really?” You ask meekly. She simply nods. 

“Me, too.” You’re really trying not to cry right now, but the softness in her gaze isn’t helping. She’s too sweet. You change the topic before you say something you’ll regret. You point to the bag of chips, “I really hope you like that flavor. I just grabbed it because I was overthinking.” 

“I don’t know why you bought those. I still owe you a bag from what I remember,” She grabs them, squeezing the end until the other side pops open. She grabs four ships and crunches them all at once before extending the bag to you. You follow her lead and munch to your heart's content. 

“I was never mad at you, y’know.” Ellie sets the bag down and reignites her roach. “I wasn’t, uh, innocent, either. We both fucked up,” She puffs and hands it to you. You've never smoked bud before, only stole a couple of Abby’s edibles a while back. She vowed never to smoke with you since you’re a tweaker. 

You accept the charred-to-hell baby jay and stare at it. You shrug, “Wasn’t worse than me. How do I do this without burning my finger off?” 

“Err… just breathe in and hold it.” She instructs. “Have you never gotten high?” 

“I have. I don't— “

“Oh, yeaaah. Non-smoker. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you mumble before bringing the remnants up to your lips and sucking in. Nothing happens. Ellie snickers, “Not like that. It’s not a fucking lollipop. Just, like, fill your cheeks up and hold it.” 

… Are you an idiot? “I don’t know what that means.” Ellie cackles like a witch at your lost expression, nearly falling over in her chair. Your cheeks burn and you try again, cheeks expanding to fill in the smoke. The second you inhale, you start choking, eyes bulging out of your skull from the burn in your chest. 

Ellie finds your near-death experience fucking hysterical as she hollers from her seat. Tears stream down your face and the veins in your neck are bulging as you gasp for air. You’re never doing this shit again. Your lungs finally decide to spare you when Ellie passes you water from her dresser. You gulp that shit down like no tomorrow as Ellie’s giggles dwindle. 

“What the,” cough, “fuck— “

“Fucking baby lungs,” Ellie mumbles with a grin. “You’ll be fine after a couple tries.” 

You chug more water, “Girl… fuck you.” You gasp. Ellie’s grin turns cocky when her head tilts. 

“Fuck me?” Her voice lowers and goosebumps rise on your skin. Your heart stops in your chest and your gaze falls to the floor as your tummy swirls in delight, cheeks fiery. You stand and Ellie sits up at your sudden alertness. 

“Um… Like I said, thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. I really appreciate it.” Ellie stands to grab your arm when your feet slowly start backing towards the door. 

Her smile drops, “I-I’m sorry. I was just kidding—” 

“No, it’s fine! It’s not you! I just, uh… y’know what I mean?” 

“… No.” She mumbles, “You don’t… have to go yet. You just got here.” She chuckles weakly. 

“I just… don’t wanna… pry.” You whisper like it’s shameful. Ellie’s head shakes in denial, “You’re not! I’m… inviting you.” 

Your eyes beg her to understand where you’re coming from. It’s not like you don’t want to, but the two of you just got back cool three seconds ago. The last thing you want to do is force yourself back into her life. Your relationship needs time to marinate and heal before anything else happens… if she allows it. 

“I… I still miss Pickle?” You suggest with bright eyes, and Ellie’s soften despite her confusion. “Would it be okay if I see her?” You ask quietly. 

Her mouth turns upwards, “How long are you in town?” 

“I don’t know… These hotel bills are runnin’ my credit in the fucking mud.” You sigh. 

“She’s with my dad right now. Come this weekend. I’m outta here on Friday, anyways.” She suggests, cheeks glowing in the dimming room. You hope Ellie doesn’t notice your dejection at the mention of her father… It still stings. Her eyes are so hopeful, meadows flurrying with excitement… and you can’t say no. 

“…Okay.” 

“Yeah?” She confirms, smile widening. You nod. “She misses you like crazy.” Ellie notes and tears get to cooking. You think about Pickle every day. Little munchkin. 

“I miss her, too.” You sniffle. The hand that rests on your bicep slowly slides down your sleeve, closing around your wrist. Not strong, but her hold is steady. Ellie whispers your name. 

“Hm?” 

“I’m glad we’re… okay.” Your heart soars with adoration. Her eyes explore your face in admiration, and your body glows. 

“Me, too. Thank you.” Ellie’s gentle gaze drops to your lips and you stiffen. Your hands clench when she moves an inch closer. It kills you to move away, and an inkling of hurt overcasts in her forest. She lets you go and backs away, “Sorry— “

Your head shakes desperately, “S’okay, I just think we should… move… slower?” You never fail to sound like an alien who just arrived on Earth, but Ellie seems to get it. 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” Ellie stares at her sock-covered feet, red dusting her cheeks. You try to hide a smile while she walks you towards her door. She opens it for you, propping up against it. 

“See you Friday?” You throw over your shoulder and Ellie grins. “See you Friday.” She parrots. You can’t stop cheesing even after she closes the door. You make your way back into your driver’s seat, heart bleeding with relief. 

MAY, 2014

Her record is clean! I would’ve never expected this from such a great kid, your professor says to your father, But violence, especially to this extreme, is completely unacceptable—

What about what he did to me! You shout, and your father glares at your tone, He put his hands on me first! H-He—

Your body shudders in disgust at the recall of your classmate touching you the way he did. You were on your way to class when hands enclosed around your chest in a tight squeeze, all oxygen leaving your body. It was abrasive and made your skin crawl, and you swung. Your arms moved on their own until you were on top of him, his nose gushing blood while his friends attempted to pry you off. 

There was laughter when he groped you. So many people — students that you see every day — all watched it, and no one came to your defense. 

Your principal sighs with his palms up, I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what happened—

No, you’re not! I already told you what happened and you’re tryna make it seem like I’m lying! You stand and grab your bag off the floor, stomping towards the door to the office, Y’all can choke—

Your dad calls out for you, and your fingers twitch at his tone, but you keep walking, pushing past the double-doors of the school and towards the bike rack. Tears flood your eyes when the double doors slam shut, your father berating you about making a scene in public. You unlock your ride, blocking out his rampage that draws the security guard’s attention. 

He put his hands on me, dad! You shriek as loud as you can between your cries, He put his hands on me! Why’re you yellin’ at me?

I’m not yelling at you! I’m yelling in general! You scoff and swing your leg over your bike, strapping your helmet on, I’m tryna understand what happened! You broke his goddamn nose! They’re boutta suspend you! 

Imma be at Maya’s, you say, monotone. I’ll see you later. 

Amaya isn’t even home. Your dad’s hollering his lungs out as you ride down the sidewalk, but you block it all out until the wind fills your ears like a monsoon. You’re not sure where you’re going, but it’s somewhere. 

Hopefully somewhere you can cry to yourself without disturbance. 

-

-

-

It’s your first day back at school since being suspended. Fuck everybody… except Amaya and Ceniyah. You probably would’ve switched schools if it wasn’t for them. You can’t wait to see them during lunch and tell them how fucked up it’s been staying at home. 

Today has been weird as fuck, to say the least. Friends that you’ve grown used to talking to in the hallways have either disappeared or ignored you. It’s quiet around you, now, and you’re on edge. What the fuck is going on?

Walking into the cafeteria is frightening. It’s always loud, rowdy, hectic, but the minute you step foot inside, everything seems to stop. You grip your tray so tight; you think it’s about to snap, frantically searching for your girlfriend. 

But your two favorite people are nowhere to be seen. You wander and come up empty-handed. Where the fuck are they—

Your thoughts are cut when a shoulder shoves right into yours. You throw your tray onto the nearest table. Laughter surrounds you before a snarky voice shriek in your ears.

Watch where the fuck you’re going, 

No, you watch where the fuck you’re going. Dumb ass bitch, You spit. You're about to get suspended for knocking this broad out. Who even is this? 

Coming from the slut who cheated on her girlfriend! Are you sure you’re a lesbian? Or are you going back to dick? 

The entire room seems to collapse from top to bottom, crushing you beneath clutter in attempts to suffocate. You freeze when everyone turns to stare at the scene, some standing to surround you, hoping to see a fight. You release a shuddering breath as your fist clench. 

… Cheated on your girlfriend? You love your girlfriend. You’re in love with your girlfriend, and she’s in love with you! What the fuck is this bitch talking about. 

I think she’s going back to dick! One of them laughs, and the rest follow, and the entire room glows red. 

Your knuckles are drenched in the color when your dad comes to pick you up. 

PRESENT

Maybe being a TA is helping. You’ve finally pulled your sketchbook out of your work bag. 

The point of your fine liner hovers over a blank page of your sketchbook. You can’t stop thinking about Ellie, and you don’t have many distractions. 

It’s been so long since you’ve created anything, and frankly, your ass is clenched with anxiety. Never in your life would you think that creating art would wrack your nerves in such a way, but your insecurities are working hard. Probably the hardest they ever have. Once upon a time, your sketchbook was your safe haven, and now the feeling of blank pages feels like needles. 

What if you’ve… lost your talent? You can see everything you want to make clearly in your head but your pen isn’t moving. The attempts at reigniting your passion would be pointless if you can no longer fucking draw. Your fingers are itching. 

Maybe you should try that corny shit from the movies where they close their eyes and move their utensils on pure muscle memory… Maybe you should do fucking shrooms! Visuals always peak on psyches, according to the experts. At this point, why the fuck not— 

“Son of a fucking — this is fucking stupid, bitch, jus’ fuckin’ draw,” you mutter to yourself in agitation. Just fucking draw! You do this! You do this, you do this!

Minutes pass and your paper is mussed with smudged, small ink marks from constantly moving your pen around, trying to find the right angle. Another piece of paper gone to waste. You fucking suck. You slam your pen down on the table. 

You stand and start to pace, “Positive affirmations only,” You remind yourself aloud, “You got this shit, like, what the fuck. Everything’s gonna come back to you. You’re in a funk and tha’sit. It’ll pass, it’ll pass— “

Whoever your hotel neighbor is… Praying for their sleep schedule. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, kiddo. Sorry I missed your call. Your pet knocked out on my hand.” 

Ellie giggles, “It’s cool. How ya been?”

“Fine… She’s a rascal, ain’t she? I found her head first in one of my flower pots. Her tiny legs were wiggling tryna get herself out,” His chuckles are like warm hugs, “How’s work?”

Ellie’s cackles calm, “Also fine… Err…Um… speaking of Pickle…” 

Her dad hums, and Ellie sighs, “Remember when I told you about how I found her?” 

“Yeah… You and that girl found the poor thing freezing to death outside… Why?”

“… Would you believe me if I said we somehow reunited by the grace of God and she’s coming back with me tomorrow?” Ellie squeaks, and her confidence drops when he exhales. It sounds heavy. 

“Um… for what?” 

“To see Pickle…”

“…Alright.”

“What’re you thinkin’,” She nips at her nails. 

“Nothin’…” 

“Dad…” 

“I dunno what you want me to say, darlin’… Everything you’ve told me about her so far wasn’t… great to hear.” 

Ellie rolls onto her back, “Yeah… I dunno. Something’s different about her now.” 

“How so?” 

She can’t tell him how badly your shielded eyes have taken a toll on her. How desperately she wants them to revert to the shining rivers they used to be. How badly her chest ached when you left her room last night, “I dunno. It just is…” She mutters weakly. Another heavy sigh. 

“I mean… You’re an adult. I can’t tell you what to do anymore.” 

“Don’t be like that, please.” 

“Not being like anything. I can only accept.” 

Ellie’s hand drags down her face in exasperation. The rants she relinquished onto her dad about you are making her nauseas. 

“Just… be nice to her, please.” He hums begrudgingly. 

“Dad, I’m serious. I feel like we… could be friends.” 

“Friends… Alright.” He sounds skeptical, but he isn’t combative. She hopes he’ll keep it together when he sees you, “How should I plan for this friend when she gets here?”

Ellie smiles sadly, “Make eggplant parmesan…”

Her dad snorts, “… Since when do you like eggplant?” 

Ellie grins, “I don’t.” 

Why can’t black roses be real? 

Ellie doesn’t seem like a flower girl, but she has a gigantic leaf imprinted on her arm for the rest of her life; She must appreciate the autotroph kingdom. Your mother always told you how fucked it is to enter people’s homes empty handed. Walmart usually pulls through with the awkward housewarming gifts, but they’re slacking in their garden selection today. Fuck your life. 

You’re forced to settle on peonies… They’re pretty and all, but you’d prefer alliums for her. Maybe even a carnation. Plus, Amaya always told you to never buy flowers that sound like penis. 

Amaya… Are you really about to break down in the frozen food section? Maybe. It’s time to go. You're shocked to find out you have more than ten dollars on your card. Fuck hotels, from the depths of your soul. 

You set your purchase in the passenger’s side and pull up Ellie’s pinged location. She left way earlier than you. You would’ve carpooled, but you couldn’t miss these hours for this paycheck. How are you a struggling student and not even in school? 

The drive is going to be long. 

At least you have time to scream out your frustrations. 

“Hey, Siri.” 

… UH HUH?

“Play This Cold Black by Slipknot.” 

PLAYING THIS COLD BLACK BY SLIPKNOT. 

Your head thrashes as you back out of your parking spot. 

“WELCOME HOOO— “

The ride wasn’t long enough, actually. Ellie’s dad’s house is right there. Like… right fucking there, and your voice is almost gone. Clouds are beginning to roll in over the neighborhood. The universe is fucking with you. Great. 

You dump the last bits of water into the thirty-dollar, peony-stuffed vase before exiting your car, backpack strapped over your shoulder. You climb the brick staircase with a pounding heart. 

“Okay,” You croak, “Hi. Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. I heard my — our cat was with you—“ You rehearse and cringe. Why are you pressing him about a cat in his domain? 

“Fuck, okay, wait,” You try again, “Hi, Mr. Miller, I’m Ellie’s, uh, friend. We were roommates some time ago— “ 

Some time ago? Who the fuck are you? Shakespeare? Emily fucking Brontë? Get a fucking grip. 

You almost drop the fucking vase when the door opens. Your coughs are uncontrollable when you see Ellie, eyes flicking between you and the ring light camera. Why the fuck does she look so good? Cartier watch, black button up and slacks, hair… neat. She’s about to trigger your asthma! 

“Uh… you okay?” She questions flatly. You’re still choking on your own esophagus, but you send her two thumbs up anyway. You’re great! Terrific! Immediately scared shitless when a… big ass man holding a black furball creeps up behind her. He’s not as dolled-up as Ellie and it makes you less insecure. Why the fuck do you have this hoodie on? You should’ve at least worn some trousers! 

“Nice to meet you.” His voice sounds like grovel. Gravel? You can’t fucking think right now! He adjusts Pickle in his grasp so he can extend a polite hand out to you, “I’m Joel. I’m Ellie’s father,” He sounds courteous, but there’s something simmering beneath his pupils as he stares at you. 

His grip is strong when you accept it. You’re going to vomit, “I-I’m — I mean, hi, I’m, uh… Me’n Ellie used to live together—“ You sound like a frog who just learned how to speak. 

“I’ve been told.” He hums.

Meow!

You almost start bawling at your baby’s cry. She's so big now and her coat is so shiny! She’s eating well. Ellie accepts the flowers with dusted cheeks before stepping aside and allowing you entry. You’re instantly hit with the smell of garlic… Can the whole bloodline throw down in the kitchen? 

“Nice home!” You crack and cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. They both say thanks in unison, but her father’s is gruff while Ellie’s is delicate like petals. She can’t stop staring down at the flowers. Joel finally sets Pickle down so he can head back into the kitchen, and she follows him without hesitation. 

She doesn’t remember you. Your heart shatters. 

“Thank you for the flowers,” You hear Ellie say from beside you. You swallow the lump forming in your throat with a smile. “No problem… You look, um, great.” And you smell like heaven. Like clouds before the rain. 

Her face gets redder and she grins behind petals, “Thank you. I got called in today. For… editing and whatnot.”  

You snicker, “Whatnot?” 

“Shut up. C’mon.” You follow her into the kitchen where she sets the vase in the middle of the dining table before waddling towards her dad, who stands over the stove. You stand back and watch as she playfully punches his upper arm while he stirs the simmering pot, cracking jokes amongst themselves while Pickle paws at Ellie’s calf. Your doting smile vanishes at their laughter; What a little happy family. Are you breathing? 

You turn to face the living room and breathe in as deep as you can, eyes glued to their maroon couch. You crack your knuckles and release the wind in your lungs before repeating. 

“You’re okay, it’s okay. You knew what it was before you came,” you whisper to yourself. Ellie mentioned how close her and her dad were way before you got here, so why is the pain in your chest so sharp? 

A hand comes down on your shoulder and you jump, “Sor — fuck, sorry — “

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks, concerned. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Jus’ looking around,” You laugh shakily and note the large paper crane on the TV stand. You point at it, “That’s so cool! Did you make that? I love origami.” 

“No, my dad did— “

Fuck, “Oh— “

“Yeah, um— “

“D-Do you have a restroom?” 

She observes with worry, “… Yeah, right down that hall, to the left— “

“Thank you, BRB,” You’re practically running to the fucking bathroom. The door closes and locks and you pace. They have a nice shower curtain: black and white stripes. You count them all from top to bottom. 

“Your dad’s dead, fucking relax, it’s been like that, it’s been like that,” You exhale shakily, tremors building in your hands, “You’re fine, you’re fine, calm the fuck down.” You unzip your hoodie and ball it up before shoving your face in it. Your screams into it are muffled. 

You come up for air and stare into the mirror, “You’re fucking fine. The food smells good as fuck and you’re gonna eat and you’re fine.” You open the door and… kitty’s staring at you. She’s sitting pretty and inspecting your disheveled appearance. 

“Hi, baby. Remember me?” You squat and stick your hand out to her. She sniffs curiously before nipping at your pinky. “Ow,” you coo with a smile. 

“She remembers you.” 

Ellie’s leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest. You need her to stomp the fuck out of you with affection; She looks so fucking good, fuck—

“I hope,” you squeak and cough. It scares the shit out of Pickle and she runs. 

Ellie’s gaze lingers on your bare arms. “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Yup.” Sound casual, you think. You sprinkle a shrug in there. She nods before heading down the hall and entering the last door. You can’t hide your shocked expression at the scenery. 

Every inch of the room is covered in posters, most of them about galaxies and all their intricacies. There’s a red racecar bed covered in Regular Show sheets and pillowcases and a bunch of stuffed animals, dresser covered with discarded sticker papers and seemingly empty polaroid cameras. There are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling before coming down and around the bed frame, across the closet, and finally slung over her dresser. There’s little action figures and trinkets everywhere. 

The door closes behind you, “… Is this your room?” 

Ellie snorts, “It was. Not anymore.” 

You laugh, “I’m fuckin’ with it. That bed is crazy, though.” Ellie joins in, scratching at her ear. She takes a few steps until she’s in front of you, still at a distance. Thank God; Any closer and your celibacy goes down the drain. 

“Sorry I only brought flowers. I would’ve brought fucking… cake or something if I knew y’all were gonna cook.” Ellie waves you off. 

“The flowers were pretty. Thank you.” 

Your entire face is on fire, “Y’know what I mean…” You cough. 

“Um… I just wanted to talk to you about something. About my dad.” 

There’s a hole in your chest that’s expanding. She takes your silence as attentive, “He can be really overprotective… like, he’s kinda stubborn.”

“Oh… I see where you get it from,” You laugh weakly, clearing your throat when Ellie doesn’t. “Sorry.” You mumble. Ellie looks down at her feet, “Does he not… like me?” You ask quietly, embarrassed out of your fucking mind. 

“It’s not that, he’s just… I told him a little of what happened between us. Not everything, just some of it!” 

“The… bad part, I’m assuming?” Her silence is enough confirmation. 

Ellie looks like Pickle when she’s guilty. You remember when she hopped onto the counter and knocked over your water cup, eyes large and pleading for forgiveness over the mess she caused. 

“M’not mad,” You mumble, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.” Probably is used very strongly. 

“I’m sorr— “

“It’s okay— “

A knock comes from the other side of the door. 

“Come eat, you two!” 

“Coming!” Ellie yells back before rubbing her hands together. “I’m really— “ 

“Ellie, it’s fine,” You reassure her with a light slap on her bicep… It’s quite hard. “C’mon, uh… I’m hungry?” You brush past her and head towards the door, holding it open for her. “After you?”

Ellie reminds you of a strawberry milk squishmallow when she eases past you, trying to hide her smile and pink cheeks. Your cheeks puff as you release the air in your lungs, shutting her door behind you. 

This is the best eggplant parmesan you’ve ever tasted in your goddamn life. Too bad you can’t enjoy it due to Ellie’s hardcore mobster dad sending you deadly glares from across the table. He hasn’t said a word this entire meal, and you’re not anticipating the minute he does. He’s going to blow a gasket. 

“D’you like it?” Ellie says lowly from beside you. You nod your head with two thumbs up. You can’t hide your smile when you notice all the gooey cheese and noodles eaten off the pieces of eggplant. 

“It’s delicious. Thanks Mr. Miller.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He sounds like he means it. Your heart drops and Ellie scowls at him. Your fingers clench around your fork and you scarf down what you can. It’s so good and you’re so scared and you want this meal to be over. 

You're the last to clean your plate so you stand in a rush, gathering all of the plates and spoons off the table before scurrying to the sink. 

Ellie pads close behind you, “Oh, you don’t have to— “

You cut Ellie off with a nervous laugh, “The least I could do.” The dishes clatter and you grab a sudsy sponge. You waste no time, scrubbing the living hell out of these dishes. 

“Go sit down, Ellie.” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at his stern tone, “Wha— “

He slices through her refute, and still manages to sound calm, “Go.” 

You continue to scrub, sighing at Ellie's descending stomps. Joel creeps into the open space in front of the sink, grabbing a dish and another sponge. 

“Ellie told me you’re an artist.” He mutters over the running water.

“Yeah. Sorta.” You reply as calmly as you can. 

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” He gets right to it, it seems. You scrub harder. 

“Just… tryna make things right between us.” 

“Why's that?” 

Word vomit. You can’t help yourself. You’re so fucking nervous. “I-I fuc — sorry — I screwed over someone that was… really great. Your daughter’s a sweetheart and I feel awful with how things left off.” You stumble with a heated face. You catch the arch in his eyebrow and back pedal, “Not like we were — we weren’t dating or anything! Like, not like that! We just — “

“I was a student once upon a time. I know how these things go.” He snickers humorlessly. Your shoulders relax a smidge before he asks, “Why now?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you wait so long to talk to her? The two of you graduated forever ago.” His tone is much calmer than it was seconds ago, but anxiety surges in your gut at his questioning. 

“I didn’t wanna reach out without being in the right headspace. I had… a lot going on and I had to handle it. Therapy’s hard as fu — heck,” You sigh, “I still don’t think I’m doin’ a good job, but… I dunno, it earned me a Michelin star eggplant parm. Must be doing something right.” 

You don’t expect Joel to laugh, but he does. It’s hearty and deep. Very dad-esque. Your heart crushes to dust all over again. 

“Look, kid,” Joel sets the clean plate in the rack before grabbing another, “I wasn’t gonna say much, but Ellie seems to like you… a lot. More than most people.” Your heart flurries back into shape at his observation. You want to ask what a lot means exactly, but he continues. 

“She’s… she gets very attached to people. I know it’s hard to believe but she’s very… sensitive,” His voice is low, but he’s not bullshitting in the slightest. The protective aura has returned and it’s radiating back onto you, pushing you back. Keeping you at a distance from him. From Ellie, “I’m never gonna shit on anyone’s journey, but frankly… if you’re not here to stay, I’d suggest leaving her alone now.”

This is definitely a threat. But you don’t feel threatened. You feel… sad. Joel is doing what any great dad would when faced with an outsider: armoring his cubs by any means. Something you’ve never experienced. If meeting Joel has shown you anything, it’s been what you’ve missed out on your entire life. Little does he know the last thing you want to do is separate from Ellie a second time. Another breakdown is bound to crash into you very soon. You forgot where the bathroom was. 

You’re not going anywhere. Your heart won’t allow it. “I’m— “

You’re interrupted by a loud rumble, instantly followed by the heavy droplets of pouring rain. It sounds like pebbles are being thrown at all windows of their home; Is it hailing? 

“Holy shit,” Ellie calls from the living room window, “Was it supposed to storm tonight?” 

“Yeah, it was on the news,” Joel confirms. Ellie rushes over and points her eyes to you. 

“You’re not driving in that.” She breathes out. Your heart fist pumps, but you maintain nonchalance. 

You shrug awkwardly, “I don’t wanna pry— “ 

“Nah, she’s right. We have a guest room.” Joel sighs, “Ellie, show her where it is. I’ll finish up in here.” 

Ellie’s hand closes around your wrist before guiding you down the hall. The bathroom’s right across from the guest room. On the left side, you note. 

“Fuck a guest room. You’re staying with me.” She mumbles and opens the cupboard. She grabs you some sleep shorts and presumably her father’s sweatshirts. You try to convince yourself that the strong pounds in your chest are from fear of the storm, and not at all from a lesbian slumber party. 

… Fuck. 

The storm is roaring outside. And Ellie’s chiefing in neon astronaut jammies. This feels like a fever dream. 

“They glow in the dark.” Ellie hums around a cloud of smoke from where she sits across from you on the bed. You pause your gawking, “Huh?”

“My pjs glow in the dark. Wanna see?” Her eyes sparkle and your heart sprouts legs and sprints around in your ribcage. 

“Fuck yeah.” You gasp. Ellie’s teeth shine before she puts her joint between her lips and leans across her bed to shut her lamp off. Every fiber of your being tries to not lock onto the smidge of skin that appears from under her sweatshirt when she stretches. The room goes dark around the neon pink and green outlines of the design. You choke out a laugh at the pigmentation; How the fuck are they so bright!

“Sorry if this is boring. I’ve never had a sleepover before.” 

“Shut up, that’s cool as fuck! You gotta battery pack in there or somethin’?” Ellie giggles out a no. A smile stretches wide across your face when you look up at her, hers just as bright. “Are you sleepy?” You ask. 

“Not at all,” she hums as she switches the lamp back on. 

“We could play a gaaame,” You suggest sing-songy. 

“Oh, fuck. Like what.” Ellie huffs a laugh. 

“Truth or dare is a sleepover classic— “

“I’m not licking a toilet seat.” Ellie states flatly. Laughter explodes from you at her face. “I’m not a crazy dare-er like that. The most you’ll have to do is prank call an ex or some shit.” 

“I don’t have an ex.” 

“Oh… Well, a family member.” Ellie nods in acceptance. “Can I ask first?” She asks. 

“Mhm. Lay it on me.” 

“Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“Show me what’s in your backpack.” 

“…Fuck.” You sigh, and Ellie cackles. “Were you planning this shit?” You ask and stand, walking over to the dresser where your bag sits. You grab it and hand it to her. She wastes no time, stubbing her joint out before rummaging through your shit, sifting through loose-leaf paper and markers used for coloring. You plop down onto her bed and she pulls out your sketchbook. 

“Is it okay if I look?” 

“I dunno,” You smirk, “Can I finally see your fucking portfolio?” 

“Come home with me tomorrow,” she says instantaneously, “It’s there. You can see it.” 

“… Then yes.” 

She flips through pages and pages of visuals you’ve created before your father’s passing. They range from sloppily scribbled orchids, to immaculately shaded depictions of eggplant farms. Ellie giggles when she finds a small comic of Pickle playing with her favorite mouse toy. 

“She still has it.”

“Good,” you whisper. You watch as she studies each page to her heart’s content, fingers dragging across lines that catch her attention. “You’re so good,” she says softly, awestruck and eyes sincere. Your gaze drops to your lap. 

“Thanks,” you match her volume. She hums and flips to the next page. You eye the ashtray on her bed before snagging it, snatching her lighter and igniting the joint. Ellie eyes you like a hawk. 

“I watched a tutorial on how to become a professional pothead… I think I got it down.” 

“Show me.” She whispers and your stomach jolts.

Smoke leaves the lit end of the J and you flick the lighter off. You bring it to your lips and puff your cheeks full of smoke, inhaling as deep as you can before your lungs squeeze. You cough and heave tearfully and Ellie leans in to rub your back. 

“That was better.” She says softly. “I was gonna dare you to hit it anyway.” Your coughing fits calm and you swallow. 

“Shit,” You say. Ellie takes the joint from you and hits it like a fucking pro. She's much closer than she was seconds ago. You examine how her lips curl around the roach, cheeks expanding around carbon before inhaling, allowing the remainder to leave in a bunch of circles. 

“You really blowing O’s right now?” You think you hit it right this time. The jitters you’ve had all day are beginning to dwindle. 

She smiles mischievously, “Mhm.” 

“Truth or dare?” You mumble.

“… Truth.” 

“Did you think about me… after you left?” If you were to lean forward an inch, Ellie’s nose would touch yours. Nose hug. Her face spots are so adorable. 

“Yeah. A lot.” She passes the J back to you and you accept it boldly. You’re releasing your stress with every exhale. Ellie was right; Smoking does feel good. 

“What’d you think about?” 

“Isn’t it my turn?” 

“No.” You smile. 

She shrugs, “I dunno. Just…” Her gaze falls onto her stuffed tabby cat. 

“I feel like you’re boutta say something nasty.” You snicker. 

“Wha — no! The fuck— “

You mock her, rubbing all over yourself, “I thought about your hands, ooo, aaa— “

Ellie smacks your arm a bunch of times before pushing you back onto the bed. You’re howling laughter over her whining, “Bitch, that’s you! Don’t think I forgot about that shit you pulled in the car!”

“You have nice hands! What can I say,” You slur with a dumb grin, “You have, like… classic lesbian hands. All you need is some Hot Topic rings and all the hoes gon’ flock to you.” You take one last toke before the lit end can reach your fingers, stubbing it on the ashtray. 

Ellie seemingly ponders with the theory, “… Is that why a milf ate me out at the club?” 

Your neck almost snaps when it cranes to look at her, “What the fuc— “

“Yeah. Craziest experience I ever had. Like, in my life.” 

“Fuck, Ellie…” Your head flops back onto her Lightning McQueen blankets. “Was it good?” 

“I… I guess. I came.” 

You stare at the star stickers on her ceiling. “You guess?” She only hums. 

“But…”

“Hm?” You urge her to continue. 

“She didn’t… kiss me.” She whispers like it’s dirty to say out loud. You slowly blink at the opaque walls. “I mean, she did, but it wasn’t a real one.” 

“Shame on her.” 

Ellie maneuvers so she’s lying on her back beside you. “Yeah…” 

“Ellie?” 

“Hm?”

“Were you a virgin before I touched you?” 

You expect her to slap the shit out of you again, but she doesn’t. She takes one deep breath before muttering, “Yes.” 

You stop yourself from melting into her bed, turning on your side and propping yourself up on an elbow, gazing down at her. Her eyes are wide as saucers as she looks up at you. You can see her fingers twitching around her pillow, squeezing the fabric of the case. Right on Rigby’s nose. 

“A-Are we still playing truth or dare?” She whispers, her breath hitting your face. She smells like oranges. You shake your head, tongue rolling over your lips. “No.” Your free hand lands on her hip and squeezes. Her jaw slacks around a gasp.

“… Oh.”

“Oh?” You want — need to kiss her so badly. Steal all the oxygen from her lungs so that she has no other choice but to breathe from you. Only you. Your vision is hazy with each travel over her face. She looks so soft, so pliant, so ready and prepared for you to take from her. Just like you hoped. 

Your hand travels, pushing her sweatshirt up just above the waistline of her pants, fiddling with the knot right under her bellybutton. 

You pull at the string until it loosens, “She gave you head?” 

“T-The milf?” 

“Yeah. The milf.” Aggravation seeps through your tone. Ellie’s hips twitch. 

“… Yeah?” She coughs. You hum and hook your thumb under the band and inch them down. They aren’t even off all the way and you can tell she’s naked underneath. 

“How good was it?” 

“I don’t… know?” 

“Yeah you do. How good was it?” You snip, and Ellie winces. “I-I squirted.” She trips over her words and your clit jumps. You don’t say anything, and she seems sad. 

“… Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Your tone says otherwise. You’re not mad. You don’t know what you are. You don’t like what she’s telling you, though. Fuck milfs… You love them with your entire heart, but fuck them. 

… Yeah. You’re high as shit. 

You sit up and she moves to follow you, but you push her down and she goes limp under your touch. 

“Don’t move. Just lay there.” 

She pouts and you almost kiss it, “Don’t be mad.” 

“I told you I’m not.” You swing a leg over her waist and she sighs dreamily. “How many times did you come.” You’re not asking; She’s going to tell you. You raise her sweatshirt up over her breasts. 

“T-Two — Two.” She moves to throw her sweatshirt over her head but you snatch her wrists, pinning them right on the cushiony mattress. She doesn’t fight you. 

“I want you quiet. Your dad’ll kill me if he hears you.”

Her eyes go glossy and twinkle, “Okay— “ 

“I mean it. Don’t say shit.” 

“M’not gonna,” She whines before her mouth clamps shut. You give her overlapped wrists one last threatening squeeze, watching her fingers go lax before releasing her. You cup her tits and her eyes flutter shut, teeth sinking into her lower lip. You mouth at the valley between her tits and her back arches to follow each swipe of your tongue. 

You kiss all over her ribcage, almost feeling each erratic thump of her heart under your tongue. She keens when your tongue flicks over the rising bud of her nipple, thighs squeezing around your hips. Your mouth latches onto the skin right above her areola, teeth sinking into it before sucking. Her hips raise and she’s breathing like she’s about to faint, and you grin like a fox. 

You don’t let up until a wet maroon mark is left on her tit before swiftly switching to the next one, leaving a much harsher spot on the raised skin. An eager hand scratches down her torso until it brushes the patch of hair that peeks out from under her pants. 

You shove your hand beneath the light cloth and your fingers are drenched in seconds. Your walls squeeze around nothing when you feel her clit jump in excitement. Her squishy lips spread around your middle and index fingers, her throbbing bundle of nerves cinched between them. She keeps making fucking noise and the walls seem to shake. 

“What’d I say.”

“I — m’sorry, can’t h-help i— “

“Be quiet, Ellie.” Your fingers slip over her messy clit in slow, teasing circles. You release her skin until it’s blistering and bruised, quickening the pace of your fingers and she pulses in your hand. Your tongue swirls around her nipple once more, cheeks hollowing when you suckle. 

Your eyes search for hers but her head is thrown back, neck strained and veins popping from beneath her skin. Your lips release the skin and your drippy hand leaves her pants. Your nipples harden under your tee when she reaches for your retreating form, fingers digging into your sweats. 

Her pants are yanked down and tossed across the room, her toes curling in her rainbow-striped socks when your hands hook under her knees to push them up to her chest. Her arms entangle under her bent legs to hold them out of your way. 

“I could fuck you right now with no problems.” You exhale in a daze, “S’fucking drippin’.” You envision how good her pussy will swallow whatever pops in, how easy it’ll stretch around something thick—

Ellie’s eyes shine like you offered her candy and her hole clamps down hard. You chuckle. “You want that?” 

Her head bounces off the pillow in rushed nods. If your mouth wasn’t so fucking dry, you’d be slobbering all over her pussy. “Remember what I said?” You remind her, and she plants a heavy hand over her mouth. You kiss her ankle in appreciation. 

Your fingers move on autopilot, massaging her clit a few more times before inching down, your index pushing past the tight, gripping muscles. Your finger’s swallowed whole in an instant and Ellie’s trying her hardest to mask her squeaks. “Fuck me,” you sigh when she takes another finger with no hassle, walls engulfing your digits in wetness. Her scent is surrounding you and it’s intoxicating. 

“Missed you s’bad— “

“Missed you more, baby. Missed this pussy,” You’re pussydrunk and you’re slipping. That spot in her cunt becomes plumper with each press of your fingertips, “She fucked you better than me?” 

Ellie’s denial is convincing, but that sick part of your brain doesn’t believe her. She loved being touched by someone, wanted by someone. Someone who wasn’t you, and you’re livid, “Nooo— “

You slice through her whine, “No?” Your smile is sadistic and your fingers are relentless, “You said her name like you said mine?” You grit and her eyes cycle into her skull, her hair sticking to her forehead. She’s trying to keep her voice down when she whispers how she only thought about you when she made a mess. She wanted you there, she says, she needed you there to take care of her. 

“Y’fuck me s’good, fuck— “

Your eyes are dead, “I’ll hurt you. Be quiet.” 

Fear flashes beneath her desire and she listens, keeping her sobs to a minimum. The sloppy, wet sounds of her pussy overtake the entire room the harder you fuck in, her nails tearing into her Pikachu stuffie on the corner of her bed. A string of drool dribbles from her bottom lip to her sweatshirt, her eyes glowing under the dimly lit lamp. 

Her walls shake and throb on you, “Gonna cum, baby?” You grin manically at her dumbed-out expression, cheeks wet and eyes droopy. You coo at her and force in as deep as you can, curling your fingers up, fighting against the tight contractions of her walls. 

“Make a mess on me, baby, I gotchu, c’mon— “

A long, drawn-out moan escapes Ellie’s lips, and you’re so hypnotized by the heavy spray of juices that lands on your thigh that you don’t even bother to shut her up. She’s drenching her sheets and blankets and you and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You’re fucking wave after wave out of her and she’s practically riding your hand, groaned curses and dazed squeaks of your name bouncing off the walls. 

It feels like minutes pass when her orgasm slows, inner thighs drenched and dripping with slickness. Ellie’s entire body shakes and her thighs squeeze around your hand as she attempts to catch her breath, but you’re not done. You’re not satisfied. She didn’t give you enough. 

You climb onto her and your lips connect in a simmering kiss, her wet mouth smacking against yours. Her cold hands land on either of your cheeks and your hips roll downward on hers. She whines into your mouth and tries to meet your hips but you force them back onto the mattress. She yanks at your shirt in attempts to rip it off but you don’t let up, lips slipping down to connect with her neck. 

Your wrist twists downward until you're met with her sticky bush once more, spreading her lips apart and shoving your fingers back inside her. She chokes a wet gasp when they hit right where she needs, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck to hold you close. You’re babbling nonsense in her ear as you work her, telling her how she’s stuck with you, how you’re never leaving her side again, demanding that she says you're the best she’s ever had. And she does, and either you’re fucked out of your mind, or she means it. 

You barely catch how your hips move like you're fucking her, driving into her as hard as you can and she takes it, stretches her legs wider so you can reach the spots she’s never been able to on her own. She’s saying your name like a prayer, like it’s all she’s ever known, and it’s breaking you down, only to build you back up so you can crash back into her. You missed her so fucking bad and you’re unleashing all of your feelings on her body and she eats all of it. How could you leave her when she fucking needs you this badly? You’ll never forgive yourself. 

She’s warning you, crying about how you’re going to make her squirt again, begging you to slow down because she can’t take what you’re giving her, but you feel so good and you know she does, too. You can’t stop even if you want to. You want to drain her, live inside her for the rest of your days on Earth. You’re forcing space for you inside her.

Her nails dig into your shoulders as she cums. She’s unapologetically loud and it flows directly in your ear, and your own noises leave your mouth and land onto the clammy skin of her throat. The jets of fluid that leave her are stronger than the last, and you laugh. Laugh in ecstasy and joy and pleasure that you can’t even feel, but it’s there. Right in your chest. 

You’re not done. You’ll never be done with her. 

The night evaporates with you in between her legs, slurping every bit of cum and stress that you may have caused since knowing her from the source until the sun shines through her blinds, drinking from her like you’ll die without her taste on your tongue. She lets you do whatever you need to feel satiated, but it’ll never be enough now. 

You’ll never be done with her. 

Ellie’s naked form jolts awake when ticklish breaths hit her shoulder. 

You’re beneath her, slumped, pantsless legs entangling hers and arms twisted every which way as you slobber and snore. A smile grows on Ellie’s face at your peaceful expression; She’s never slept that good in her own bed. She doesn’t want to wake you, but she has to pee so fucking badly. 

She shifts in her position and instantly cringes at the soreness in her legs. Warmth coats the crests of her cheeks when she sees the discarded sheets and pillowcases that were changed only hours ago on the floor, head plopping onto your shoulder to hide in your neck. Your snoring gets cut by a guttural cough and Ellie laughs to herself when your snores pick up again. 

She’s not a morning person in the slightest, so why the fuck is she so happy? Is this the post-sex glow that her friends always tell her about? Is she still considered a virgin if you only used your fingers and tongue? She doesn't feel like one… Sex rules are fucking dumb. She stops stressing before she ruins her morning. 

The pangs in her bladder are getting on her nerves; She wants to cuddle. She sighs and shifts on top of you, trying her hardest not to disrupt your deep slumber. She manages to separate and clothe herself before waddling down the hall and into the bathroom, trying to ignore the aches in her thighs. You wrecked her shit… What the hell. 

The second she leaves the bathroom, she smells coffee. Her dad’s up. She might vomit. 

The two of you weren’t that loud. Definitely not. He couldn’t have heard. He didn’t hear! Ellie’s stealthy as she tiptoes through the hall… until the fucking floorboards croak from beneath her and she nearly faints. 

“Come out, dipshit. I know it’s you.” 

Her eyes squeeze shut and she curses to herself. She reluctantly appears from behind the wall, her dad sitting comfortably on the couch with a filled mug and newspaper, Pickle napping on his lap. He peeks from above his reading glasses. 

“Think we needa talk.” 

“… Fuck me.” She whispers before shamefully limping into the living room. She flops onto the couch and glues her eyes onto the decorative rugs under the coffee table. 

“She seems nice.” Her dad sips his mug. Ellie’s face burns. 

“She is.” She mumbles. You took such good care of her after last night. You got her in the shower, brushed her teeth for her when she was damn near sleepwalking, watched her down two bottles of water. Her heart flutters at how soft your eyes turned when you kissed her to sleep. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” 

“… I dunno.” He hums and sips. 

She doesn’t know. You’re not dating, but Ellie thinks you like her… She thinks. She likes you… a lot. She bites at her nails. 

“You like her?” He asks lowly; She knows he knows. 

“Yeah…” Ellie whispers, cheeks rising on their own. She covers her face when he smiles. 

“Just… take your time.” Joel advises gently, “Did she tell you she’s in therapy?” 

Ellie’s ears perk and her brows furrow, “No.” She sits up. Her dad’s gaze softens, “Wait til she brings it up, then. Y’all should talk before things get serious. It’s only been a couple days.” 

Ellie knows her dad is right, but it’s hard to control herself when she’s around you. She naturally gravitates towards your aura; It’s comforting and she doesn’t want to lose it again. 

A gentle clatter comes from her bedroom and she stands. You’re awake. 

“I love you, kiddo,” Joel says, and she smiles softly. “Love you, too.” 

She scurries down the hallway and enters her bedroom, seeing you sprawled out on the floor, all wrapped in sheets. 

Your eyes are droopy when you croak, “Hello.” Ellie snickers. 

“Hi. What happened.” 

“I was reaching for, like… an orb in my dream and I guess I did it in real life,” Your voice gets so raspy in the morning, and it tickles her ears. Ellie can’t stop laughing. She helps you stand before kissing your cheek. 

“Good morning,” she wraps her arms around your neck. 

“M-Mornin’,” You squeak, eyes flitting around, “Uh… How'd you sleep?” 

“Good.” She’s lost in your brown eyes. They’re warm like the sun. Why won’t you look at her? 

She follows your line of vision down to your fiddling hands before whispering, “You okay?” You simply nod. Ellie’s heart stutters nervously. 

“Do you still wanna come over later?” 

“… Yeah.” Your attempts to disguise your stiffness fail. Ellie feels a lump forming in her throat when she detaches from you, and you search for the new pair of pants she gave you before you went to bed. Ellie watches silently, crestfallen. Something she did triggered your aloofness, so she turns to leave the room.

Her voice cracks, “I’m gonna… shower again— “

“Ellie.” 

She turns, “Yes?” 

Her fists clench when you walk until you’re standing in front of her, warm hand coming up to hold her cheek before kissing her. It’s soft and makes Ellie’s fingers thrum with excitement. It only lasts seconds before you pull away, and Ellie chases your mouth.  

“I’d love to come over. I think we… should talk about some things.” You say quietly, and Ellie silently agrees. You let her go and she wants nothing but for you to pull her in once more, shrouded in your warmth. 

You’re making her bed when Ellie leaves for the bathroom, body falling against the door to calm herself down. You’re not upset with her, and you want to come over… to talk, whatever that means.

The hot water burns her skin; She spends her entire shower thinking about how she can make you as happy as she feels. 

taggiessssss :3 @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl @callmewhenyoukan @macaroni676 @draculurasblog @ellieaesp @@gravygranules @elsblunt

#in frame ✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ #ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us 2 #black!oc #black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

[borzoilover69]

Dirkjake fic recs?

THE GRAND FIC LIST:

calvariae - tony artreactor cw for talks of suicide, average toxic yaoi, epilogues-ish. starts off with a spectacular rant from dirk strider abt how platos a little bitch and ends in a way that had me sitting on the sidewalk on an afternoon remnicising like an old war veteran

empty nester - conejita cw for grooming mention, toxic yaoi, alchohol, so on so forth. literally the brograndpa fic of all time hands down, this fic is one of the best dirkjake fics this year. literally could not recommend more.

integuement -drew lifevoid jake eats a deer. dirk likes breaking into houses. somehow, this started a rather heated debate between me and my friends about how to get blood out of a cableknit sweater. what else do you need to know to get to read this? please read this. 10/10 fic.

head over heels - space gays that arent in space cw for lobotomy and suicide attempt, unhealthy relationships also nsfw. also onesided dirkjake. Dirkcentric. i really do NOT recommend reading this if you arent in the right headspace. otherwise its great.

bones of black marrow - aka that one insane html dirkjake fic CW for a lot of things including cannibalism gore nsfw weaponry seizures just a whole handful of stuff. heed the tags. interesting story story though i read this during work because im not a pussy. Really long.

upgrade - hotelroomservice & rykitty cw for suicide attempt grievous injury err death and fucked up ness. will have you sitting back in your chair by the end staring up at your ceiling. based on the movie of the same name. really really really awesome.

lunar calendar - tony artreactor cw for mentions of sex as selfharm, selfharm, alchohol consumption, REALLY unhealthy relationships, post-epilogue stuff, so on so forth. this fic was genuinely my fucking 9/11 dirkjake wise. like everything was different after reading that fic. literally everything. It probably made me insane.

and last but not least... shag, emotionally devastate - tony artreactor this is up there in the hs fanfiction bible for shit youve just GOT to read. it deals with post-canon in the most ripsnortingly funny way ever and is what made me genuinely love the idea of dirk and jake absolutely taking the mic out of each other both physically and verbally. it had me snickering and sending this to my friends like "OH MY GOD" and served as inspo for some of the facade and points i want to eventually make with LE jake when i get around to it. im so serious i cannot recommend it more.

New additions!

Its not enough to love the unreal - sloan twistedglossographer.

CW for attempted murder. Jake thinks dirks going to leave him and does something about it. Most BPD jake thoughts ever that latched in my brain like parasites

one of us was supposed to kill the other- sloan twistedGlossographer

CW For cannibalism and outright murder and gore.

Jake actually kills dirk and delivers a stunning brain process on how cannibalism links around to love and other shit dirkjake genuinely is like babies first spoonful of canmibalism love metaphor inspired by some posts i made. It really builds off of cannibalism as love its so awesome.

godspeed and happy readings.

#borzoi talks #dirkjake #fic recommendations #asks #dirk strider #jake english #knowing most of the authors on here sure is something #but im dead serious read this

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus-Wrapped Around Her Finger

Here’s another request!

I stand starring at Isaiah after telling him the news that I'm pregnant. We have been courting one another behind my brothers backs now for a year, but this was definitely not planned

"Say something, please" I beg

"Your brothers are going to kill me"

"Bloody hell Is, that's what your worried about? I just told you I'm pregnant"

"Of course that's what I'm worried about. When you tell them I loose all chance of being a father and living" he throws his arms in the air

"Oh don't be so dramatic Is. They won't kill you. Force you to marry me, most likely"

"Whoever said that marrying you would be forced?" Isaiah looks at me with a frown

"Were you really going to ask my brothers if you could marry me?" I cross my arms with a raised eyebrow

"In the future yeah, but looks like we will have to marry quicker"

"Tommy and Grace didn't marry straight away, maybe Tommy will be more relaxed about all of this"

"At least let me prepare myself for the rathe of the Shelby's"

"Fine but we tell them end of this week"

The end of the week comes by way to quickly and now I'm stood in front of my whole family about to tell them that I'm pregnant

"Alright YN. Out with it" Tommy says placing an unlit cigarette in his mouth before lighting it up

"Well erm. I guess we should just come out with it"

"We?" Arthur questions looking between me and and Isaiah

"Yes. Err we have been, involved with each other for a while now and...."

"And what?" Tommy asks with an angry expression

"I'm pregnant"

"What!" John is the first one out of his chair "you better be bloody joking"

"Calm down John. YNs not a kid anymore. She's the same age as we were when we had..."

"We were married" John points at Esme

"Fuck sake YN. I don't care that you've been busy behind our backs because your an adult but how stupid can you be to get pregnant?"

"Arthur that's unfair. You could say the same for me"

"I did" Arthur retaliates looking at Ada. I look at Tommy worried because he hasn't said anything yet

"Tom?"

"Well. Can't say I'm not disappointed, but I got Grace pregnant out of marriage and John boy only married Martha because she got pregnant so I can't get to angry. However. I think Isaiah and I should have a little chat"

"Oh Tommy leave him be" Polly says getting up and walking over to me "congratulations sweetheart" she pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek

"How can you all be so chilled out by this?" Arthur asks annoyed "Isaiah was meant to keep YN safe and away from men"

"He did just that didn't he" John grumbles. A fire is then lit up inside me and I suddenly get very brave

"Ok wether you like it or not, I'm pregnant and I'm having this baby. Isaiah and I aren't getting married just because I'm pregnant. So you can either all act like my family or fuck off" I notice Tommy smirking. John and Arthur both settle back down, still grumbling about how they aren't happy with me. I roll my eyes and then I'm pulled into another hug, this time by Ada and Esme

"Congratulations YN" Ada says

"Thank you"

"So am I going to survive long enough to see my child?" Isaiah asks

"You'll survive long enough to raise the child, love the child and take care of my sister" Tommy stubs his cigarette out and leans back in his chair

"Yeah, yeah course"

"Thank you Tommy" I run over to him and hug him being grateful that he was able to keep everyone calm, or as calm as the Shelby boys can be

"She's always had him wrapped round her bloody finger" Arthur grumbles takes a swig of his drink. I roll my eyes at the comment. All my brothers love me so him and John will get over this eventually.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #isaiah jesus x y/n #isiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus x oc #isaiah jesus imagine

[scribbledghost]

This Ghost ask might be bad so feel free to ignore lol. But imagine if reader was a bit younger than Ghost, and when you meet the rest of the 141, you end up hitting it off with them and end up getting some new protective big brothers (or, err, two protective big bros and Price the designated father figure lol) alongside your personal guard dog of a BF.

Well, I headcanon Ghost to be roughly 32-35, so I really can't see him dating anyone under, say, 27 or so. And even then, I think that'd be pushing it. (I firmly believe he's of the "5 year difference rule" mindset lol). But let's say we give that some wiggle room, since I HC Gaz and Soap to be around 27-28(ish).

I believe Soap is the type to "when I was your age" you CONSTANTLY. I don't care if this man is only 24 hours older than you, he's wistfully saying "ah, when I was yer age-" then detailing whatever he did yesterday lmao. Just. Constantly taking the piss. Frequent pranks, frequently dragging you around to do stuff (do you like to spar? if not, too bad, he's taking you to the mats to teach you some self-defense).

Gaz is more... polite about it lol. He likes to joke around, don't get me wrong, but he's a bit less heavy-handed about it than Soap is. Down to hang out just about whenever, and is happy to do whatever you want. Wanna go out somewhere? He's game. Wanna stay in and watch some junky B-movie? Sure. (Be careful which movie you pick though - he WILL try to jump-scare you during horror flicks). He's a tease, but he's so damn charming about it that you can't find it in yourself to stay mad at him for too long.

Price is definitely protective. Soap and Gaz are too, but he's sort of two-fold protective. Not only does he want to make sure YOU'RE okay, he wants to make sure SIMON is okay. So don't be too surprised if he comes off a bit chilly at first, demeanor-wise; he's just sizing you up to make sure you're not the type to hurt his Lieutenant. Once he's accepted you into the fold, so to speak, he's just as protective over you too. Frequently makes sure you've eaten, that you're hydrated.

Granted, they're all protective. You're their friend, of course they want to make sure you're safe and that no one hurts you. Heaven forbid you manage to convince all 4 of them to go to a bar/club with you, because you may as well be dragging in 4 giant fighting dogs on leashes, all of them at different levels of what they're willing to put up with before they start biting people. But despite how fond of you they all are, they all pale in comparison to Simon. You've got him whipped, and he'll happily admit that. So he's pretty pleased to know the rest of the team likes you too.

#simon ghost riley x reader #dunno if i should tag the rest cause they're not... really x reader?? #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #ghost scribbles

[genderkoolaid]

advice on how to get over the fear that t is going to make me ugly? or that i’m going to miss “the old me”

i’m a queer trans guy and i’ve been questioning going on t for years now and i know i definitely want bottom growth, body fat redistribution and more body hair.

but im err on the side of face and voice changes. i’m scared of disliking my new voice and suddenly growing dysphoric over it (i dont have too much voice dysphoria now) and disliking how my new face will look. i’m kinda genderfluid as well so it’s complicated. but i don’t want to go my whole life without knowing what it’s like to be on hrt. but i can’t get over the fear of looking/finding myself ugly and undesirable and losing my community... which is ironic cuz i find other trans men attractive as hell. i discussed this in therapy and i still feel this way :/

i wish there was a way for me to start without telling anyone and then breaking the news when i’m experiencing changes and feeling more confident about it. i have my gender dysphoria diagnosis and i can start if i want to, but i need my family’s financial support. i don’t want to make it a big deal since it’s just something i’d be trying out to feel more like myself in certain ways.

sorry this turned into a long ass rant and you don’t have to reply but i’m just gonna kindly leave it in the ask box 💀

There's a post that goes like "all of life is irreversible. i cannot go back a single second" and I think thats something good to keep in mind when you are thinking through this. You are already living with a body that has changed and will continue to change in ways largely out of your control. You are already living in a post-irreversible-alteration body.

If you do go on T and find you don't like how your voice sounds: for one, you can stop at any time (& if you haven't checked out microdosing as an option, you should). But two: plenty of people live with a deeper voice than they want. Plenty of people live with facial hair they dislike. You can pursue the same therapies and procedures they do. Or maybe you don't, and you find ways to live with a voice or face you aren't totally in love with.

So much detransition fearmongering, especially directed at transmascs & assoc. trans people, heavily relies on the specter of the fallen woman, itself steeped in trans-misogyny & intersexism. The idea that, for one, a "woman" who has mixed-sex features is ugly and undesirable, and two, that a "woman" made undesirable is forever doomed to be miserable and worthless. The transphobic story of detransition keeps our bodies stuck in this moment of revulsion and regret, narratively preventing us as characters from being able to move on and live happy lives in atypical bodies. Even if you do regret/dislike some things about T, you are not forever stuck in that feeling. The story does not stop at that! You will just keep living and find new ways of dealing with your bodily feelings!

The social aspect of this is a bit more complicated but I also have some firsthand experience with it. Because, as mentioned before, there's a lot of transphobic misogyny/misogynistic transphobia that affects transmascs & others who go on T, who have to confront the feeling of losing your potential desirability. And then there's also the way many people are treated after going on T, facing a whole new area of bodily scrutiny: you may suddenly have people making comments about how someone needs to force teenage boys to shave because their facial hair is a personal offense. I went from being self-conscious about how high my voice was to being self-conscious about how undeniably trans my voice was. And, specifically, my facial hair, voice changes, etc. were all signs of my transmasculine desire, and I became self-conscious about how obvious it was that I desired being trans, I desired this body. I could no longer let everyone pretend I was a cishet girl at family gatherings and avoid confronting these issues, because I had essentially written I WANT TO BE A TRANNY all over my physical form.

This is something I'm still struggling with myself. I, like many other queer & autistic people, already struggled with feeling desirable or worthy of being seen alongside conventionally attractive cishet people who could act normal. Being visibly trans, and taking a huge step away from the desirable cis-perisex-girl body, can really open up that can of worms. Especially being genderfluid/genderqueer! Because we often cannot find a comfortable space for ourselves within the conventions of attractiveness for cis men, like some binary trans men are able to.

But ultimately, I don't regret going on T at all. I would have had body issues regardless, and I got a lot out of going on T. I think mentally preparing yourself to struggle with these things, and seeking out other transmasc people, is a big help. Again: all of life is irreversible. we cannot go back a single second. We are already living in imperfect bodies we struggle to love or see as worthy. If you know you want some of the things T can offer, and you don't want to go your whole life without knowing, then just do it. Dive in, and don't feel any shame if you decide to get out. Just keep living and finding ways to live better right now.

#m. #ask box

[cupidskissx]

Thanks for the fics! Are you thinking about writing something Christmassy? If you use this ask for that, I wouldn't care...lol

kisses and happy new year

Hello sweet anon,

Happy belated Christmas to you and those that celebrate!

I started this yesterday with no intention or direction whatsoever. By some Christmas miracle it’s the first thing I’ve “finished” in 6 months. I hope you enjoy ~1k of something for you ❤️🎄

***

When Max’s phone vibrated on the glass-top table the last thing he expected to see when he turned it over was a notification from Charles Leclerc.

Merry Christmas 🎅

He stared at the simple message, unsure what to make of it. They hadn’t spoken since before Max missed their padel game — his previous one line apology left unanswered.

Twisting his wrist, he checked the time and did the calculation. He frowned, it would be past midnight in Monaco, he couldn’t reply and wish him a happy Christmas now.

He picked up his phone and excused himself from the conversation. He walked inside while opening Charles’ contact and clicking call. Max didn’t know why he felt so compelled to speak to him, but it was too late now, he was closing the door to the guest bedroom when Charles answered.

“Hey,” a muted rustle followed Charles’ greeting, likely him rolling over in his covers.

“Hey,” Max sat on the end of the bed. “How was your Christmas?” Max asked.

“Nice, how was yours?”

“Yeah, nice,” Max didn’t know what else to say, maybe calling wasn’t the best idea.

“That’s good,” Charles stifled a yawn, then he asked, “How’s Brazil?”

“Hot. How’s Monaco?”

“Chilly.”

“Checks out.”

“When do you get home?” Charles changed the subject, taking Max by surprise that he’d want to bother keeping up their stilted conversation.

“Err, in a couple of days.”

“We should catch up before I head to Maranello.”

“Really, why? Have you missed me?” Max joked.

“A bit. Which is weird.”

Charles was kidding, surely, Max was the one who was left on read, “How much did you have to drink today, mate?” Max laughed, until he registered Charles’ mumbled response.

“Not enough.”

Oh. Max laid back on the bed and stared at the crack running through the plasterboard ceiling.

“I guess I just miss racing,” Charles clarified, now that is something Max can relate to. He supposed he missed Charles too, in the same way he missed Sunday morning briefings. Because setting the strategy meant driving, and driving meant racing and racing had always meant Charles. Except Charles didn’t only mean racing. Not anymore.

“I really am sorry I missed that game.”

“No you’re not,” Charles was the one to laugh that time.

“Okay, not the match so much, but I am sorry that I let you down.”

Charles was quiet for a long moment, “How’s Kelly’s family?”

Max closed his eyes. “Most of them are drunk and diving into the pool, not the best combination.”

“No, not the best.”

“How’s your family? How’s Arthur, I heard he lost his seat?”

Charles rustled on his end of the line again, “Yeah, he’ll be okay, but it’s still shit. We tried not to talk racing at dinner and that helped.”

“And your mum?” Max asked. The vision of Pascale in his mind was still the one he formed at karting tracks when they were young. When Max was shorter than her and she’d bring a pack lunch in a wicker picnic basket, an old thermos full of coffee never far from reach. One miserable afternoon in Italy she’d let Max hold it to warm his hands while they waited for the rain to clear.

“She’s good,” Charles answered, “Having us all home together makes her happy.”

“Because she can keep an eye on all of you at once for a change?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Charles sounded like he was smiling, Max wouldn’t have sounded much different when he replied.

“My mum is the same, she’ll pop her head in to my room at 6am just to watch me sleep.”

“Mum has definitely walked into whichever room I’m in to make sure I haven’t evaporated if I’m quiet for too long.”

“Typical mums,” Max rolled his eyes fondly at the same time Charles said: “I guess we’re the lucky ones.”

“Yeah, we are,” Max agreed because Charles had a way of making him more honest with himself.

“Will you go see Sophie for Christmas?”

“I’m flying up after New Year’s.”

“So you’ll be in Monaco for New Year’s Eve?”

“If everything goes to plan. Will you?”

“Yeah, I don’t leave until the 3rd. You should come over, I’m doing a small get together, nothing crazy.”

“I’ll check and let you know.”

“Good.”

“And if I can’t make it?”

“Then I guess I’ll see you when the season starts.”

Max’s heart performed a peculiar acrobatic act against his ribcage. “You won’t be home in between?”

“Not really.”

“Well I suppose I do owe you a game before you leave, if it can’t be New Year’s.”

Charles all but giggled on his end of the line, “So now you want to play?”

Max opened his mouth, the words: no, I want to see you nearly tumbled out but he caught them before he had to think too hard about what they meant. “I wanna beat you,” he said instead.

“Naturally. We’ll see,” Charles said but Max didn’t appreciate the open-endedness.

“Afraid for a little one-on-one, we both know Tom carried you last time.”

“You talk big game for someone who lost.”

“Guess there’s only one way to—” there was a single knock on the bedroom door before it creaked open, “I better let you go.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, see you soon then.”

“Yeah, book a court and I’ll be there,” Max started to pull his phone away from his ear when he was called back.

“Max?” Charles asked, voice wavering.

“Yeah?” Max’s brow pinched as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. Not quite ready to sit up.

“Get ready to lose again.”

Max snorted, “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming.”

“I will,” Charles was smiling again, “Night.”

“Night,” Max ended the call. He settled his smile into something less cheesy and pushed himself up onto his elbows to find himself alone in the room.

#what even is their dynamic here I don’t know you can decide #lestappen fic #lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #mentions of Kelly Piquet #I guess I wasn’t over padel date 2.0 #Writing and Rambles

[tipsyleaf]

(If u already mentioned something about this then pls ignore this)

But the dynamic between Leon, his wife, and the kids it’s giving me — his wife’s mom loves him soo much/smothers him and same with the grandkids. While the wife’s dad…whenever they’re alone there’s that tension. That “oh, so you’re the one dating —err my daughter’s husband despite Leon and his wife being married for ever how long 😂 there’s always that dynamic lol.

Imagine they’re visiting the grandparents house. Kids excited. Violet acting like she’s not (she is), Cecilia happy and kicking her feet because she knows granny makes the best cakes/pastries, and Scotty..well whatever babies do. Babble.

While Leon is out here sweating and his wife all happy seeing her parents again.

Timeline establishing moment: they met in late '07- early '08. Got married in late '10 and conceived Violet on their honeymoon (they weren't fucking around with having babies). So if we're going by current times of '24 they've been married 14ish years...

Readers parents I'd imagine we're an old fashioned couple. Her father probably an Ex military general. Like, Leon even in the Army heard stories of this guy but never got to meet him until you brought him home to your folks. Your mother was just a homemaker raising her daughter on the words of Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem. Raising a strong woman with the love/compassion of her mother and the strong will/ambition of her father.

But yes! His wife's mother absolutely ADORES Leon. Every time they visit she immediately starts fussing at him about taking care of himself too along with the family. Probably shoves food on him like a dealer trying to sell drugs. Literally will not stop giving him kisses on his head and calling him "the perfect son she always wanted". Insists on him calling her Mom which he happily obliged. She's so happy you married a good man like Leon and gave her 3 beautiful grandbabies.

Her father... Oh God... The moment Leon hears his father-in-law mutter "Hello Leon." He's immediately like misses puff...

Leon is PETRIFIED of this man. Always calls him Sir. Even when her father calls him Leonard (literally not even his name...) The only bonuses Leon has going for him is working for the government (good pay and job security), can protect his family/army training and giving them grandkids.

But grandpa with their grandbabies... COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MAN. Super gentle and sweet, especially towards his granddaughters. Constantly slips them money. Grandma is doting over Scottie, she loves babies, and taking him off their hands.

Violet is constantly acting like she doesn't want to be there, but the second grandpa shows up it's like she's 5 again she's so excited. Cecilia too, running at top speed to throw herself at him. He slips them both $20, Cecilia excited that she got money runs back to her parents... So grandpa slips Violet another $20 cause he knows she's older. Knows the worth of money and before they leave they always get a fat check for each kids college funds their grandparents opened for them as soon as they found out they existed. (Ofc grandparents spend their retirement on their grandbabies)

Cecilia gets to go home with half a cake from grandma and frozen cookie dough because as good as a baker daddy is grandma's still the best (🙄)

Violet gets her money and a new crochet hat every visit. She has a collection of them that she keeps her pin collection stuck to.

Scott gets toys, a trunk load of toys and clothes that he can grow into. Plus a lot of advice on raising a baby... Like you two hadn't already been raising 2 girls but okay.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🌿 ivy replies #🌿 ivy writes #resident evil x reader #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Seven

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Summary: Saiki's parents invite his friends to celebrate New Year's, and that leads to disastrous realizations.

            Let (Y/N) continue to be my friend, prayed Saiki.

            “Hey, Saiki!”

            I should have prayed for a quiet New Year’s Day.

            “Hi, Saiki!”

            You’re fine.

            “Hello! I’m Kusuo’s dad!” Mr. Saiki leaned in to Kaidou, who he hadn’t met yet.

            Mrs. Saiki hadn’t either. “I’m his mom! Wow, you’re such a cute boy! Thank you for being friends with Kuu!”

            “What? Uhm…Well…Er!” He stuttered and leaned back nervously. “N-Nice to meet you! I’m the Jet Bla—I mean, I’m Kaidou! I really appreciate your son’s camrader—err, help.”

            (Y/N) pretended to cough as they chuckled at Kaidou’s near-slipups.

            “Well, I didn’t realize Kusuo had friends other than (L/N) and Nendou,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Nendou’s not my friend,” huffed Saiki. Then, he added, “Neither is (Y/N).”

            “Do you think if you tell yourself that enough you’ll actually believe it?” asked (Y/N) playfully.

            Saiki declined to answer since he actually did consider (Y/N) a friend.

            “To think someone like Kusuo actually made three friends,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “I prayed that Kuu would have lots of friends!” said Mrs. Saiki. “And it came true.”

            So it’s her fault.

            “You haven’t gone to pray yet, have you two? You should go!” chirped Mrs. Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Yep!”

            “Ah, yes! I should! Indubitably,” said Kaidou nervously. He walked up and rang the bell. I hope I’ll have lots of friends.

            (Y/N) rang the bell and clapped their hands. I wish for the people I care about to have a wonderful year! Especially Saiki…

            The pair returned to the Saiki family.

            “I never expected to engage in a battle with God,” said Kaidou, back to his usual self.

            “What did you pray for, Kaidou?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

            “Ah, well, it’s a secret!” squeaked Kaidou, blushing out of nerves.

            Yare yare. At least he’s getting over what that fake clairvoyant said.

            “What about you, Saiki?” (Y/N) looked at him.

            He shrugged in answer. (Y/N) nodded in understanding.

            “And you, (L/N)?” asked Mrs. Saiki.

            “I want my friends to be happy!” answered (Y/N).

            Saiki blinked. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised anymore at their good heart.

            “Oh, hey Kaidou, (L/N),” said a new voice. Hairo had arrived. “You’re here, too, Saiki? What a coincidence. Happy New Year!”

            “Y-Yeah,” said Kaidou.

            “Are you all visiting the shrine to pray? To tell you the truth, I—Hm?” Hairo noticed the adults behind Saiki who looked ecstatic. “Saiki, who are you with?”

            “My parents.” Unfortunately. I don’t want you all to meet.

            “Oh, so you’re Saiki’s parents!” exclaimed Hairo. “Nice to meet you! My name is Kineshi Hairo! I’m Saiki’s Class Rep! Saiki is always helping me out!”

            Mr. and Mrs. Saiki were crying in happiness about how good a kid Hairo was as the boy walked up to the shrine.

            “To think you have this many friends!” sobbed Mrs. Saiki. “I’m so happy I’m about to cry!”

            “Since when do you have such good communication skills?” cried Mr. Saiki.

            “They all just follow me around on their own.”

            “You know you like us!” teased (Y/N). Hopefully at least me. It’d be weird if you didn’t like me as a friend. Their heart clenched at the “like me as a friend.”

            You, maybe.

            I pray for a good rival that I can passionately challenge with all I’ve got, thought Hairo as he bowed at the temple. A formidable rival is also like a good friend. I hope I’ll find someone like that.

            “What did you pray for, Hairo?” asked Mrs. Saiki as the redhead returned.

            “Well, it’s a secret,” said Hairo.

            What’s the deal with everyone wanting friends? Saiki’s eyes wandered to (Y/N). Not everyone is like them.

            “Oh? Hey, guys!” greeted Nendou, walking up to the group. “What’re you guys doing here?”

            “Hiya, Nendou!” (Y/N) waved.

            “Oh, hey, look! My pal’s mom and dad are here!” observed Nendou.

            As Saiki heard Hairo’s astounded “realization” that Nendou might be his rival and Kaidou’s excitement at having friends, he couldn’t help but think about how people’s prayers were coming true. Even his own. (Y/N) seemed pretty happy as usual. Though their parents were probably on another business trip, they were still cheery. Saiki was glad about that.

            “By the way, Nendou, have you gone to pray yet?” asked Hairo.

            “Oh, you mean ringing the bell and stuff? Okay then, I’ll go do it,” said Nendou. He rang the bell hard. “All right! Let’s go get some ramen.”

            “What type of ritual is that?”

            “The Nendou ritual,” answered (Y/N), amused.

            Mr. Saiki laughed. “You only rang the bell. Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” He and Nendou walked back up to the shrine. “Now, you first throw money in here, and then you ring the bell. After ringing the bell, you bow twice. And then you clap your hands twice and say a prayer.” I hope Kusuo finds a nice significant other! “After that, you bow one more time to finish.”

            Nendou repeated the ritual before they returned to the group.

            Yare yare. What a wish my dad had… Saiki glanced at (Y/N) unconsciously.

            “Oh? Could it be?” said a sweet voice. “Ah! Saiki, what a coincidence!” Teruhashi had appeared in her glowing glory. I ran into him here! How lucky! I mean, lucky Saiki!

            Mr. Saiki noticed her, and his mouth dropped open in shock (a normal reaction for those meeting Teruhashi). Could it be that my wish from earlier has already—?

            No!

            But it ticks me off that it would be someone this cute! thought Mr. Saiki.

            There’s only one person here I actually like to be around, and that’s (Y/N). Not Teruhashi.

            “Oh! T-Teruhashi!” stammered Nendou.

            “Hiya, Teruhashi!” (Y/N) waved.

            “Wow!” Mrs. Saiki clapped happily. “Who is it this time?”

            “Hi, Teruhashi,” greeted Hairo.

            “What’re you doing here?” asked Nendou.

            “I’m Kusuo’s father! Nice to meet you!” said Mr. Saiki.

            “I’m Kuu’s mom,” introduced Mrs. Saiki.

            As everyone crowded around her, Saiki and (Y/N) stood off to the side. Saiki was annoyed that so many people were interrupting his chance at a peaceful day. (Y/N) was standing there like a personified ray of sunshine. They were rocking back and forth happily, humming lightly to herself.

            “Let’s leave before they notice we’re not with them.”

            (Y/N) grinned. “I’m a terrible influence on you! Let’s do it!”

            They turned and took a few steps before Mr. Saiki noticed.

            “Oh? Are you going home, Kusuo?” asked his father. He turned suddenly to the other teenagers. “Oh, that’s right! If you like, you’re welcome to come by our place! We have customary New Year’s dishes, too.”

            “Yeah, come join us,” invited Mrs. Saiki.

            “Yeah, let’s go!” cheered Nendou as the others agreed.

            Poor Saiki had become black and white and blank.

            “Saiki? Saiki?” (Y/N) waved a hand in front of his eyes. Oh, man. This really did a number on you!

l

            “Whoa! These mashed chestnuts totally rock!” said Nendou as he ate.

            “Go ahead and have as much as you like!” said Mrs. Saiki.

            Saiki sat in a corner, trying to avoid the festivities. (Y/N) was sitting in the sun next to him. Like a cat, they were almost napping in the warm light.

            “It’s very delicious! Please teach me how to make it sometime,” complimented Teruhashi.

            “Of course! It would be my pleasure!” said Mrs. Saiki.

            “You’ll make a good wife, Teruhashi,” commented Mr. Saiki.

            “I’m flattered!” gushed Teruhashi.

            That is not the option I want anyone to consider.

            …Not that there is any option.

            “Everyone, thank you for being good friends with Kuu,” said Mrs. Saiki honestly.

            “No need for thanks!” Hairo grinned.

            “We’re his friends because we want to be,” said (Y/N), stretching and smiling.

            Saiki liked that idea, strangely. He could make people do whatever he wanted, but to know some people just wanted to be around him was nice.

            “Yeah, you’re right, sorry,” said Mrs. Saiki emotionally. “I’m just so happy. He’s always had very few friends because he’s a psychic.”

            Everyone froze after that statement. Silence fell over the room.

            Yare yare.

            Saiki’s eyes immediately darted over to gage (Y/N)’s reaction. They tilted their head in confusion and glanced between him and his mom questioningly. However, there didn’t seem to be any hostility or fright on their face. Saiki was thankful for that.

            “Honey, you probably shouldn’t have said that,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “What?” Mrs. Saiki clearly hadn’t planned to say that.

            “He’s a…psychic?” asked (Y/N). “What do you mean by that?”

            Mrs. Saiki paled as she realized what she had revealed.

            “Honey, you should say something,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “O-Oh,” stammered Mrs. Saiki.

            Calm down. This is nothing to panic over. Nobody is taking this seriously. Well… Saiki glanced over at (Y/N) who was looking intently at him as if realizing something. Most of them aren’t. They may be a problem. As usual, (Y/N) was observant at all the wrong moments.

            Mr. Saiki coughed awkwardly. “Well…” He attempted to change the subject. “Do you guys know the logo of Shonen Jump?” he asked nervously. “You know, the pirate symbol?”

            “Yes, I do know it,” said Hairo, slightly confused.

            “If you turn it ninety degrees, it looks like the profile of a girl,” said Mr. Saiki. “Well…I just thought I’d point that out.”

            The teenagers still looked awkwardly at him and his family. Finally, Nendou looks at a manga.

            “Oh! Whoa! Cool! It really does!” exclaimed Nendou. “Here, look at this!”

            “You’re right! It does!” realized Hairo.

            “It looks like she’s wearing a skull hairclip,” remarked Kaidou.

            “I guess it does look like a girl,” said (Y/N). They remained distracted, however, and kept glancing back at Saiki questioningly. They weren’t as mollified as the rest of the group.

            Yare yare. I have no choice. I need another distraction. Using his powers, he knocked over a water glass and made it seem like Hairo had done it.

            “Oh, no! I’m sorry,” apologized Hairo as the water soaked the tablecloth.

            “Oh, no! I’ll bring a dishcloth!” cried Mrs. Saiki.

            The night ended with the incident, finishing any talk of Saiki’s psychic abilities. After dinner, the teenagers said their thanks and began to walk back to their houses together.

            “I didn’t expect Saiki’s parents to be so cheerful,” said Kaidou.

            “Yeah,” agreed Nendou.

            “At any rate, have you no manners?! You sure made yourself at home,” said Kaidou.

            “What?! Hey, you were the one talking all funny! What was that about?!” cried Nendou.

            “Now, now. It’s New Year’s. Let’s not ruin it by fighting,” admonished Teruhashi angelically.

            “More importantly…” (Y/N) suddenly spoke up after thinking hard. “I wonder what Saiki’s mom meant about him being a psychic.”

            “Oh, that…I wonder what that was about,” said Hairo. “That made things kinda awkward, didn’t it?”

            Saiki teleported behind a telephone pole. Yare yare. They couldn’t undo the damage after all.

            “She was probably just joking,” said Kaidou.

            “But they did suddenly change the subject…” pointed out (Y/N).

            “Yeah, it definitely was a little strange,” said Hairo.

            “But Saiki’s mom is a little unusual, so…” said Nendou cheerfully.

            Don’t say that about my mom.

            “But they really dodged the subject,” remembered (Y/N).

            You really become observant at the most inopportune times.

            “I thought it might be true for a second,” admitted Hairo.

            “That’s silly,” scoffed Kaidou, acting tough.

            “I was just kidding,” said Hairo.

            At the next crossroads, they all split up to head to their respective houses. Each teenager was now alone.

            As (Y/N) walked, they continued to ponder on what had happened at dinner. Especially the incident with the water spill. (Y/N) knew it had seemed that Hairo knocked the glass over, but…his elbow never touched it. Could it be possible? It seemed outlandish, and yet…(Y/N) couldn’t help but think it made sense. Could Saiki really be a—

            Thwack.

            Sorry, (Y/N). I can’t have anyone know. Saiki sighed as he watched (Y/N) walk away. He could only hope that their germanium earrings wouldn’t negate his Nanana stick and memory altering.

l

            Saiki was half-pleased. His memory altering had been successful on Nendou, Teruhashi, Kaidou, and Hairo, but now they all had annoying misconceptions of what Mrs. Saiki said. The only person he was unsure about was (Y/N). He couldn’t read their thoughts, so he had no idea what she thought. As (Y/N) waved to him as he sat down for school, however, they clearly “remembered” what Mrs. Saiki said.

            Saiki’s never had many friends because few people understand him.

            (Y/N) smiled to themself. Saiki…You’re an enigma incarnate, but…I want to be your friend. Through thick and thin, I want to be by your side. I want to try to understand you, if you let me. I hope you’ll let me…because I really care.

            Those sentiments had been hidden quite deeply before, but as (Y/N) thought them, they took root, and something new bloomed in their heart.

            Oh dear, thought (Y/N) as that something new grew unbidden. Their eyes widened, and they touched their heart. I have a crush on Saiki.

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#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #saiki kusou no psi nan #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki #saiki kusuo #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #tdlosk

[mycenalucentipes]

I'd like to request fred and george weasley head cannons! Specifically how they would go about dealing with their feelings and asking out a crush in each house. So how fred would deal with realizing he likes a girl in Slytherin/Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw/gryffindor and how he would ask them out. Same with george.

(Bonus points if you wanna do for Ron weasley, harry Potter, and/or draco Malfoy too)

a/n: This seems fun, so I’ll give it a shot! I think I’ll do Hufflepuff and Slytherin for Fred and then Ravenclaw and Gryffindor for George. Sorry to split it up, but I get pretty carried away with writing^^’. These headcanons might be more like one shots, I apologise.  

a/n after writing some more: I’m sorry, these are definitely more like one shots. Umm, I'm not so good at headcanon stuff, so I hope you're not too disappointed! Also will try to get around to doing a Draco version of this over the next week???

Summary: Headcannons(err more like oneshots) on how Fred and George Weasley deal with falling head-over-heels for their crush! 

Warnings: Fluff I guess? A couple swears here and there, Fred and George and maybe you confessing your ever growing young love for each other

==========================================

Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!Reader

1.1k words

You were just a typical shy, kind hearted Hufflepuff girl. You wouldn’t throw an insult in anyone’s direction. Though you weren’t afraid to hex or charm someone. You tended to stay out of people’s way, ducking through the crowd and avoiding as many shoves as possible to get to your next class through the busy halls. 

It was in a 5th year Hufflepuff/Gryffindor Charms class that you shared with the Weasley twins. Professor Flitwick paired you and Fred up for an essay on your  two most recently learned charms. The Severing and Colour Change charms. 

It was during this duo effort that he found himself falling hard for you after an incident during the essay. 

You both decided to work in the Gryffindor common room one evening. Practising the charm as well as writing about the two. He cast the Severing Charm with too little caution or regard for his surroundings. 

Let’s just say, you ended up with a new haircut that night and were not too happy. Without skipping a beat after it happened, you shot the Colour Change Charm at him, turning his hair a bright indigo blue.

Fred didn’t even care that his hair was blue(well at that minute). He stared at you, awestruck that you had retaliated. Up until then, you were just the Hufflepuff that stayed out of everyone’s way. Never cursed or gossiped. Of course, Fred profusely apologised, all while laughing his head off. 

“You know, love. I must say, you look quite cute with that new haircut of yours.” He gave a cheeky smile before running away from your wand pointed at him, not wanting to see what else you might cast at him. 

Fred didn’t know why he never noticed you before. He wishes he would’ve. He loved seeing this new side of you and desperately wanted to get to know you more. 

Every Charms class, he would start sitting next to you, and distract you from lectures. He would write jokes to you on scraps of paper, or just nudge your arm or leg endlessly until you jokingly kicked him back. One time, you accidentally knocked him in the shin a little too hard that he yelped quite loudly in class. 

“Mr. Weasley, do you have something to share with the class?” Flitwick asked with a little bit of irritation in his voice.

“N-no sir, sorry!” He squeaked out, rubbing his shin under the desk. You shot him an apologetic look, then went back to listening to Flitwick continue on. 

George would tease him endlessly about his new little crush on the Hufflepuff girl. He noticed the lovesick daze his twin would be in during meals in the Great Hall. Fred would sometimes just get lost in staring at you while you joked around with your housemates. 

Occasionally, you would catch him staring, then smile a bit. He loved the way your eyes sparkled when he caught his gaze. Or how your smile would instantly brighten his whole world. 

Even after the project ended, he made every effort to try and hang out with you. Whether it be plopping himself next to you during meals or even following you to the library to study. Which, didn’t actually include much studying when he was around. He was far more fond of staring at you and joking around. 

You quickly grew accustomed to his constant attention, flirting, and shenanigans. You loved it all, but you would never dare be the first one to confess. So you quietly went along with him, watching and admiring, not having the confidence to believe he would like you back. Boy were you wrong. This man was whipped. For you. 

One abnormally normal Thursday, you sat through the regular same old charms class, ate the same meals, talked to the same friends, Fred pulled you outside to the courtyard after class was let out. He gently led you by holding your small hand in his larger one.

“Fred? Are you alright? Where are we going?” You asked, growing more concerned as Fred’s pace picked up. In all honesty, Fred was a tad nervous. Sure girls flirted with him here and there and he would sometimes reciprocate that. He was a charming guy, what can you say? 

Fred would not say a thing on the way to the courtyard. Heck, you still had no idea where this boy was taking you. You could sense a nervousness about Fred, which was quite odd to you. You’d never known him to be nervous about anything. Even in potions when Snape would drill him and Fred would just joke and laugh about it. So why was he so worked up today?

You both sat down at one of the corridors’s archways that bordered the school’s courtyard. You could finally see his face. He looked just the slightest bit flustered with a light pink dusting his cheeks. This is new. You thought nervously. Fred fiddled with your hand a bit, refusing to look into your eyes.

“Freddie, what is it? You’re scaring me…” You whispered out to him. He finally looked you straight in the eyes, guilt flashing through them. 

“Oh! No, please don’t be scared. Merlin, I’m so sorry, love, haha,” Fred apologized while grabbing your other hand now and facing directly towards you, “ Just a tad nervous, but I have to tell you now, I can’t wait any longer.” He began rambling on about how much you meant to him and how he couldn’t take his mind off of you. You lived rent free in this man’s head and he didn’t know how to contain his feelings any longer. 

“Fred, what are you on about?” You smiled, feeling giddy already. You had a suspicion of where this might be going. He stopped rambling, feeling his full confidence and charm return.

“Y/n, I was wondering if you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I quite fancy you. I really, really like you a lot!” He beamed with a wide grin. Even though you felt this might be what was happening, your face still turned into one of shock. Fred’s smile faltered for a second, but not for long. 

You flung yourself into him, giving him the warmest, sweetest bear hug you could manage. As you dove into him, he let out a small “oomf!” before returning the hug. 

“Yes, of course I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you!” You happily cheered. “And I like you too!” Fred couldn’t have been more happy with the outcome. He was completely, utterly head over heels for you. 

==============================

Fred x Slytherin!Reader

877 words

I think even if the reader was a Slytherin, Fred would still be pretty outgoing and wouldn’t shy away from her. He also wouldn’t hesitate too much to finally confess his feelings. I feel that he wouldn’t be able to keep his feelings to himself for very long. Here’s another scenario of Fred slowly realising his ever growing crush on you. It hits him like a slap to the face and he can’t contain these feelings to himself anymore.

Fred wasn’t really sure how his crush started. Maybe back in his third year, whenever you cheered on one of his and George’s pranks? He was amazed he was able to catch your attention, because the whole “Gryffindors and Slytherins will never mesh” thing. Since then, he never really saw a reason to totally resist all Slytherins. You were different. 

You weren’t snobbish or all high and mighty about being a pureblood Slytherin. You never bullied anyone. Except for Pansy occasionally. She usually deserved it though as she often picked on some poor Hufflepuff girl or a non pureblood Slytherin. You also never put up with Draco’s shit. So you and Malfoy ended up with a mutual understanding that neither of you would mess with each other.

Another part to add to his growing feelings was 4th year, watching you stand up to Professor Snape after he picked on George a bit too harshly. Of course, the twins could’ve stood up for themselves, they could care less about Snape and that class. Something in you had just snapped that day. It cost you 20 Slytherin house points, but you couldn’t bear to see Snape bullying any more students that day. 

Now to the part we are at today, 5th year. You both became friends over the past couple years. You were currently in the middle of pulling off some prank with Fred and George. Fred and George had a plan that involved you since you had an in with the Slytherins. 

You were to “accidentally” trip and fall into Pansy. In the process you “accidentally” slop some Out to Lunch Fake Moustache lotion on Pansy’s face. While you had her distracted, Fred and George would slip some Dungbombs into Crabbe and Goyle’s robe pockets. 

The plan went off without a hitch. Pansy was screaming bloody murder when she started growing facial hair. She only found out when Draco started cackling at her as she approached the Slytherin table for lunch. The laughter didn’t laugh long whenever Crabbe and Goyle entered. Nearly everyone evacuated the Great Hall after this. 

The three of you made a run for it. Filch was close on your tails, too close. George sacrificed himself so you and Fred could get away together. He winked at Fred with a salute, then turned around and grinned at Filch, not a glint of fear in his face. Just pure humour and amusement. 

The two of you slipped into one of Hogwarts’ secret passageways that led all the way to Hogsmeade. You and Fred laughed the whole way there. 

“Man, I gotta thank your brother later for taking one for the team.” You laughed, nearly out of breath from your workout.

Fred laughed along too, excited to finally have you alone. As you both made your way to The Three Broomsticks, he grew a little nervous. What if you didn’t like him like that? What if you fancied George? Or didn’t even want to date a Gryffindor? Man, he needed to calm down. 

After sitting down at a table in the corner with your butterbeers, he noticed you looked a bit flushed. “Y/n, are you alright? Pansy didn’t hurt you, did she? Are you fevered?” His mouth rushed with questions.

“N-no! Silly, I’m good. I just… Fred, I need to tell you something.” You replied. A look of concern spread over his features, fearing for the worst. He was so in love that his mind was a little wonky about this. He would lose all sense of reality when he stared into your beautiful eyes. His mind and heart would race when you would accidentally brush hands or place a hand onto his forearm. 

Finally, you stared into his eyes, “I like you!!!” You loudly declared, standing up to further prove your point. You startled quite a few patrons surrounding you. Fred slightly startled too, eyes going wide as he was not expecting this. He didn’t think you would confess to him. You stood there breathing heavily, waiting for his response.

“Love, I really, really like you as well!” He exclaimed as he too stood up. He pulled you close and brought your faces close to each other. “May I?” You nodded a little shyly, closing the gap between your lips. Once again, you shocked him. It took a second for him to lean into the kiss. 

When you did break away you confessed, “I’ve fancied you since year two, Fred.” His eyes widened. “Year two!?” You giggled bashfully and nodded while looking away. Fred gently used his hand to guide your face to turn back to him. 

“I really should’ve realised sooner. I think I only realised a month back if I’m being honest.” He said, a blush clear on his cheeks and ears. “Although, I’ve always been quite fond of you. You’re my little snake now.” 

You laughed and hugged him once more. You were finally his, and him, yours.

===============================

George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader

1.3k words

Now, I think George would try to be more subtle about it? It might take a bit more prodding from Fred to finally tell you directly. 

Though George never really took notice of you until third year of Hogwarts. You were mostly lost in your thoughts to yourself a lot and weren’t the most bold student. You were 11-13 though, that’s fair enough. 

It wasn’t until you made friends with the Golden Trio. Ron Weasley specifically. You and Ron became best buds in your third year and his first, like a sibling relationship. You met all three of them on the train. You had noticed Harry and Ron in one of the train compartments and asked if you could join them. Mostly because you figured the red head would be the Weasley’s younger brother! 

Ever since then you had been helping Ron with homework, attend quidditch matches with him, and even sneak him out to Hogsmeade. After a year of knowing them, during your 4th year, Ron invited you over to stay with them for winter break! So of course you had to go! 

It was wonderful there, with everyone, the atmosphere was warm, cosy, and overall felt like another home. 

When Ron introduced you to everyone, you definitely caught the attention of George Weasley, he was stunned to silence by your character and beauty. He thought you were the most beautiful thing to cross his path. He just had to get to know you better. Also because you meshed so well with his family! 

He was in awe at how much Ron looked up to you and how smart you were. You always helped Ron with his homework. Maybe you would help him too with his! Merlin knows he didn’t care much about his homework. Whenever meal times came around, you were always first to volunteer yourself to helping Mrs. Weasley out in the kitchen. You also could talk for hours on end about the muggle world with Mr. Weasley, being a half-blood yourself. You definitely had some information to share with him.

At some point during your stay, you decided you would try to befriend the Weasley twins. They were in your grade, so why not get to know them? George was elated by this. Falling in love was new to him and made him a little shy when it came to you.

Over the next week of break, you and the twins got very close. Often playing wizards chess, quidditch, or just pulling pranks on the others. You did accidentally give them both pig ears and pig tails with a prank formula gone wrong. They both found it hilarious and decided to try and make more of whatever it was you did.  

Since it would get cold, George would let you borrow his jumpers. He thought you looked absolutely adorable with how oversized they looked. He loved that they were his that you were wearing as well. You often would go to George and ask for a jumper to borrow when it would get cold. It was often rare to see you not wearing one of his jumpers around the house anymore.

Some nights, everyone would sit down by the fireplace and just share stories or jokes. You also situated yourself next to George, even leaning against him a few times (all of the time). His heart would flutter every time he felt your presence lean against him. He loved it, absolutely adored it. 

A couple times, you would fall asleep against him. He knew as soon as your weight would sink into him further along with the sound of your gentle breathing. He would then gently prod you awake once it got late enough and everyone had gone up to bed, leaving just the two of you. 

“Hmm…oh, hey George? Where did everyone go?” You pondered as you slowly sat up.

“Oh, they left for Ireland, said they’re not coming back for a couple days.” He shrugged as you gave him a look of ‘wtf’. He burst out laughing, “Kidding, kidding, I swear, they all went to bed. It’s past 11:00pm.”

You playfully smacked his arm, “Oh, you! Sorry for dozing off on you. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You looked so enchanting in your sleep. I couldn’t bear to disturb your peaceful slumber, so why wake a pretty face?”

“Y-you don’t mean that. How can I look beautiful while sleeping? I know for a fact that I sleep-talk and drool occasionally!” You giggled while leaning back into his side, resting your head onto his chest.

“Okay, so maybe you drool, but it doesn’t take away from your cuteness!” 

No matter how you looked, George would always slip in a compliment to you. He would even spin your self doubts into compliments. 

Eventually, it was time to go back to school! It was a couple months before George came to terms with his feelings for you.

Whenever George realised his crush on you though, he would try to subtly flirt with you. He would always flatter you, never missing an opportunity, oftentimes he would or if you were walking down the hallways together, he would playfully nudge or bump shoulders with you during your odd conversations. 

You often talked about really random things. Like, what a chair’s scream might sound like if a desk chair suddenly gained sentience. Or what if frogs harmonised their croaks and ribbits to mate? 

If you both were through a crowded hallway, he would grab your hand or wrap an arm around your shoulders to keep you close and not be swept away by the bustling students. 

Whenever you got excited over something, for example, you aced your potions exam, you would run to George after class and throw your arms around him. He would instantly hug back. 

He loved the way your hair smelled, how it felt when you hugged him, how your laughter would ring through his ears. He loved it all, couldn’t get enough of it. 

He also loved when you would attend the quidditch matches and cheer him on. So he decided he would confess to you after a match one day.

“Hey Y/n, meet me after the quidditch match today!” 

“Why do you even ask,” You replied with a laugh, “I always do that anyways.” George just shrugs and runs off to catch up with his teammates.

Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. Of course, Gryffindor came out on top! The Gryffindor stands cheered wildly, you included. You rushed down the stands to meet George. 

When things calmed down, he took you somewhere a little more private. 

“Y/n… I wanted to tell you that meeting you has been the most wonderful moment in my life. Hanging out with you has been an even more wonderful time.  You captivate my mind everyday. I can’t help but admire you!” 

“George, what are you on about?” You looked up at him questioningly. He sighed with a smile and ran his hand through his hair.

“God dammit Y/n, haha. What I suppose I’m trying to say is that these feelings have transformed into something more than just…friendship.” Oh. You blushed heavily, finally getting the hint. “I like you, like, like-like you, Y/n!” 

“Oh George! I like you too! I feel the same way! I-I never knew you felt this way.” You mumbled into his chest. As soon as he had confessed, you had thrown yourself into a hug with him. 

“I noticed,” He chuckled while hugging you back.

“I guess, looking back, a lot of our interactions like that make sense now.” You laughed at your own obliviousness. 

George would be so flustered and over the moon that you two were finally a thing, that he would forget to ask you out on a date. He sincerely meant to do so. So on your way back to the dorms, he would suddenly spin towards you and ask you to go out with him for lunch/dinner whatever you prefer! 

====================================

George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

I profusely apologise for these becoming so long and like..kind of not headcanons again.

1.4k words

As a Ravenclaw, George would be drawn to your wit, sharp mind, and creativeness. You weren’t just a typical bookworm. No, you put your intellectual prowess to use. Often to cause mischief or shoot back sarcastic comebacks to any rude students or professors. 

At age 14, you became an animagus, a pine marten! You might be more of a shy and withdrawn Ravencalw, but people just seemed to gravitate towards you. You never had any problems getting along with people. (Minus a few Slytherins…) 

You and George had Transfiguration class together.  This was 5th year charms, so you were learning some vanishing spells as well as more of turning animals into inanimate objects. McGonagall had paired the two of you up for an essay presentation. You looked over to him with a small grin, and he of course, returned the gesture. 

You two would meet during evenings either right before dinner, or nights after dinner whenever George didn’t have quidditch practice. 

He always looked forward to these meetings. Conversing with you was so easy, it just felt so natural to him. He loved how well spoken you sounded. You were always researching something about a different charm or spell. You were always experimenting with some new charm or spell to get different reactions out of it.

A couple times you tried testing it out on him as you both worked together. You hadn’t meant for as many mishaps as you had, but George enjoyed them nonetheless. 

One time, you were attempting to give shoes a pair of wings. After hearing this fun fact, George offered up a pair of his shoes. Your spell went just a tad awry, giving his shoes a rat tail, ears, and four legs. His shoes scurried away down some drainage. They’re still wandering around the undergrounds of the castle to this day…

Another time, you were practising a transfiguration spell with George. This time it was actually for your project and not just some random experiment you conjured up. You turned him into a ferret. A bloody ferret. You were casting the spell, when someone knocked into your wand hand, thus redirecting the spell towards George instead of the wooden box that sat on the table in front of you. 

You had no clue what to do. You hurriedly picked him up and ran to McGonagall. She just sighed and turned him back as soon as you explained why in the world you came running to her with a ferret in your hands. 

“George, I am so so sorry!” You blushed while frantically apologising to him. He laughed and just said, “It’s all good love. No harm done!” You both ended up bonding over these little mishaps. George ended up loving so many of them he had you help implement some of your random charms into the Weasley twin tricks and sweets. 

Finally, the night before, you both finished the project. You just wrote about the importance of casting transfiguration spells correctly. As well as incorporating the charms that would turn people into animals. (Yes, he begged you to include the time you transformed into a ferret). Though you now knew how to undo that spell. You had to beg McGonagall for that one.

“Hey Y/n, wanna turn me into a ferret again?” George kept pestering you that night to do so. He wanted to show off your skills in class tomorrow. At first you heavily protested. What if you couldn't do it right again? (“That's the point of practice, silly!” George would retaliate. He loved getting you worked up. He also felt honoured that you cared so deeply for his safety.) 

You eventually caved, figuring it could be fun. You still had yet to show him your animagus form. Martens and ferrets happened to be of the same family, so why not? You sighed, casting the spell, and watched as he quickly shrank to the form of a ferret. He ran right up to your legs, running around in circles. You giggled at his playfulness and then transformed into your pine marten form. 

His little ferret form gave you a shocked face as if to say, “Wtf!? You’re an animagus!? Bloody hell that’s amazing!” He loved this. So. So. Much.

Your presentation went very well! A few times, you had to nudge George in the arm to keep speaking, he’d get lost in your words, listening to your voice. Once he got speaking though, he really did take over a lot. 

After this, he, like Fred, would insist that you keep hanging out. You would often join him for meals or trips to Hogsmeade, along with some other Gryffindor friends. 

George wanted to form a strong friendship bond with you. He did so, without even realising he fell for you, until Fred’s words hit him deep one time. 

He would always make sure to hold your hand and buy you a couple treats at Honeydukes. He knew all of your favourite candies by now. 

If it was cold, he would lend you his scarf and hold your hand inside his coat pocket. He rarely would leave your side for anything. 

Everytime your hand was in his, his heart would skip a beat. Or if you weren’t beside him, he found himself longing for your presence.

Fred would make fun of him endlessly, but lovingly, for how whipped he was for you. 

He would often sneak into your dorm/common room late at night and pester you to cast the ferret spell again, and have you run around with him in your pine marten form. He loved roaming the halls with you as a little animal. You wouldn’t get caught near as much unless McGonagall was roaming for some reason. It was much easier to hide away from authority. 

It was one fateful night, you both scurried your way up to the astronomy tower in your animal forms. Once you reached the top, you transformed back into your human form, and undid the ferret spell on George. You were both panting heavily, large grins spread across your faces, as Mrs. Norris had almost caught the two of you.

George stared into your eyes, admiring the starlight that reflected so beautifully in them. He could never get enough of your beauty. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat and summoned the courage to speak. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a little while now,” he began, a little shaky, but full of sincerity. 

You looked towards him, a blush rising to your ears already, “What is it, Georgie?” He smiled at the use of his nickname from you.

He grasped both of your hands, intertwining both of yours and his fingers together. “Well, ever since I’ve gotten to know you from our project, I’ve really come to appreciate and admire your brilliance, scheming, creativity, and the special feelings of the moments we spend together.” He confessed, a blush now covering his face.

“Oh really now?” A large smile grew on your face as you brought one of your hands up to softly caress the side of his face and into his hair. As if to urge him to continue.

“I-I’ve realised that my feelings for you are more than just friends. I really want to be something more than just good ol’ pals, y’know? You just, light up my whole world, brighten every day!” He paused as he was getting really excited. “I’ve fallen for you Y/n, and I cannot get up. I would really love for you, if you would take me as your boyfriend?” His face almost matched his hair colour. He was bright red, his heart was pounding twice as fast, waiting for your reply.

“Oh, Georgie, of course I would!” Your voice responded, full of love and tenderness. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear something like that from you. Your humour and kindness, how you see me for who I really am, it’s been amazing getting to spend time with you. So of course! As long as you’ll have me as your girlfriend!” You both laughed. He picked you up into a hug and spun you around. 

When he set you back down, you stayed in each other’s warm embrace for a while. Breathing in each other’s scents, you both appreciated the peacefulness and love that surrounded your atmosphere now.  

==============================

End a/n: I really hope this last one made sense xD. I lost my mind a little trying to write it out. Hope you enjoyed!

#nicosnwrites #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley #george weasley #george weasly x reader #george weasley x y/n #weasley twins #hp headcanon

[etherfall]

What does N call Alder? I think a cute fanfic idea would be the first time he calls Alder his dad, whether it's to his face or like, "my dad told me..."

I've got a little story just for this moment, hope you enjoy!

“Alder!”

Alder, who was sitting at the front entrance to their home, turned his head at the sound to see N excitedly bounding across the grass with his poncho trailing behind him. 

It had been a few months since he first found N in the woods. To Alder’s delight he was adjusting very well, and was now incredibly comfortable being in his home. For the first few weeks N didn’t speak. Alder was initially worried that his critical period for language learning had passed, but N was very smart and quickly picked up English.

N’s old shirt and pants had been replaced with a cream-colored poncho embroidered with gold lace that Alder had spent all night painstakingly sewing. Although he had lost many nights of sleep, it was worth it to see N’s smile of happiness as he slipped the new poncho across his shoulders. It felt good to be taking care of somebody again.

N stumbled to a stop, panting as he caught his breath. Alder let out a chuckle, amused.

“Slow down there N, what happened?”

N tugged on his hand excitedly. “Alder you have to see this!”

Alder stood up from the front steps of the house and let N lead him into the forest. “Where are we going? You still haven’t told me what’s happening.”

“Shhhh!” N said, hushing him. Alder smiled and closed his lips, letting the boy lead him deeper into the woods.

When they had gotten a good distance from the house N suddenly crouched down, pulling Alder into the bushes with him. He pointed into the brambles, wide-eyed and awed. 

“Look!”

Alder squinted, trying to see what N was pointing at. His eyesight had definitely waned over the years, but he eventually made out the figure of a Sawsbuck who was followed by a group of Deerling. 

It was truly a sight to behold. The great Sawsbuck held itself majestically, blinking slowly as it turned its head. The dapple of soft forest light scattered across its brown fur in a beautiful display of pattern. It would have blended in perfectly with the surrounding trees if not for the crowd of bright pink spring Deerling that were bouncing back and forth at its feet. Alder let out a breath of deep admiration. It was always a breathtaking scene to see such a beautiful creature in the wild.

The Sawsbuck dipped its head to calm the excited group of Deerling, nuzzling one softly with its nose. The Deerling wiggled its tail, letting out a happy bleat of excitement. The Sawsbuck lifted itself up regally and began to trot away into the woods, with the Deerling following behind. Soon they disappeared into the thick tangle of the forest.

Alder was beaming. The Sawsbuck was a great surprise to see. When they were both sure the pokemon were gone, Alder stood up and brushed the dirt off of his pants.

“That was a really beautiful thing you found, N. Did you see all those Deerling? That Sawsbuck is one busy dad.” He said with a chuckle.

N stood up as well, his expression of awe shifting to one of confusion.

“Wait, what’s a dad?” He asked, puzzled.

Alder silently face-palmed himself. He had completely forgotten that N had a very different upbringing than other people. He racked his brain for a quick explanation.

“Err…well I suppose you could say that a dad is a parent who raises you and cares for you.”

Alder gestured towards the forest where the Sawsbuck had disappeared. 

“That Sawsbuck we just saw is the dad to all those young Deerling. He cares for them and makes sure that they are all safe.”

Alder could see the gears in N’s head turning. He tried to clarify it a little more.

“Pretty much everyone has a dad, and their job is to look out for you as you grow up. Whether that be, let's say, making you food or teaching you how the world works. A dad doesn’t have to be related to you by blood, but he should be there to support you.”

N brightened in understanding, then turned his head to look at Alder. 

“Wait, that means that I should call you dad!”

Alder paused, stunned by the sudden response. “I…what?”

“Well you made me dinner every day, you gave me a home when it was raining, and you made me new clothes!” He said, excitedly lifting up an arm to show off the poncho. “You taught me about things I didn’t know and took care of me.”

N nodded to himself, beaming, oblivious to the fact that he was making Alder melt with happiness. He turned his head back towards the forest, looking out at where the pokemon had disappeared. A small smile hung on his lips.

“If you say that everyone has a dad, then you must be mine.” He murmured, tilting his head to look at Alder. “Right?”

Alder felt his heart twist. A complicated feeling of delight and sadness tore cruelly at his heartstrings.

“Oh N… A dad can be anyone, as long as you believe they care for you enough.”

N wrapped his arms around Alder’s waist, repeating the word a few more times, before burying his head into the folds of Alder’s poncho with a soft smile on his face.

“I like that. I think that I will call you dad.”

Alder felt as if he might start bawling. He tucked one hand around N’s shoulders, pulling him close. He pressed his other hand against his heart, turning his head to look down at N, trying to capture the moment forever in his mind.

“You can call me whatever you want N, but I feel very honored that you would choose to call me your dad.”

They stood together in the embrace, basking in the warm evening light. Alder turned his head away, feeling his heart flip with so many complicated emotions that had been dormant for years. He didn’t know if N knew the weight of the words that he had just said, but all he hoped for in the moment was that N was feeling comforted and loved. After a while Alder gently let go of N, giving him a bright smile.

“It’s starting to get late. Let’s head home now, son.”

N looked confused again. “Son? What’s a son?”

Alder laughed, ruffling N’s hair before gently taking his hand and leading him out of the bushes towards their house. The fading tendrils of the afternoon sun danced across their ponchos as they made their way through the woods together.

“That’s a name that I would call you N, the person whom the dad loves and cares for the most.”

#alderadoptsnau #AAN AU fics #pokemon black and white #pokemon bw #pokemon au #n harmonia #n pokemon #champion alder #Bit of a longer piece this time #But an important one at that #I hope I did alright haha...

[mistress-lou]

Neir Automata charachters react to meeting a human (you)

Requested by me self indulgent writing :)

9s

Let's be honest the first time you two meet he probably shrieks

And not a small one like a really high pitched excited bird screech

After your ears were finished ringing and you could finally hear him he bombards you with questions and at first you answer them politely to the best of your ability

"So is it true humans don't rust?"

"Well no but we go through something similar called 'aging' pretty much our bones become more and more fragile over time our skin begins to sag and we have trouble moving around and we usually have little to no energy by the time we reach our 40's."

"Wow you guys have it rough! But can't you all avoid the effects of 'aging' by doing routine maintenance and replacing all of your the parts of you that are irreparably damaged?"

You have to explain that while yes keeping up to date with your body to keep it healthy and doing your best to get rid of all of the impurites inside your body can help you can never really stop the effects of aging

He doesn't really get it but is both surprised and happy to know that your body can heal minor injuries on it's own. But still keeps a close eye on you anyway

Reads all the codex that he can find on humans no matter how small it may seem he doesn't want to risk it especially after knowing you can't just replace all your broken and corrupted parts like other androids can

Starts to carry a small notebook around with him where he writes your conversations, your personal interests, allergies, eating habits, sleeping schedule, and even your bathroom breaks (yes gross ik but he wants to know when him and 2b should take a break from adventuring so you can relax)

Definitely likes to gossip with you about other YoRHa members and especially how much of a pain their commander is (which is often quickly silenced by 2b)

Ask about 2b and he'll talk for hoooours

Like he won't shut up about her goddamn you'd think he'd at least have filter and stay a bit more quiet when she's only like 5 feet away

Poor guy obviously has big crush on 2b

Although he does sometimes make some flirty comments to his operator too so maybe that's just how he is?? Or maybe he just likes those two in particular because he's close to them

Although he never really talks to you that way but that's fine though!

And 2b never says anything about it so maybe she's just not paying attention or maybe she likes it.....? Your not sure androids are hard to read especially 2b even though you guys are relatively close now

2b

Just no

The moment she saw you she literally turned on her heel and walked the other way

9s had to grab her and literally beg for her to hear you out because she just wanted none of it

After a few minutes of convincing she agreed to listen to you she thought you were a runaway android at first so she wanted to leave before she might've recieved any orders to bring you back or (slight spoilers) execute you but she decided to hear you out for 9s's sake

Was very surprised when you told her you were a human she didn't believe you at first but after telling her what year you were from, details of the day machines attacked, and a confirmation from YoRHa, she finally decided to beileve your story

Was very annoyed when her new mission was to escourt and protect you while she there on earth completing her main mission

Most likely only kept you around because of 9s and 6O's begging

Very quiet anytime you ask her questions she gives very curt short answers

"So...how are you doing today 2b?"

"All my diagnostics and sensory functions are all green."

"Err..okay how about mentally are you okay?-"

"I don't get tired and all my core and brain functionality are working fine."

"O-oh okay well how about-"

"Machines ahead get back with 9s!"

"But they're like 100 ft away we can just go the other way- wait!!"

"...ugh"

Everytime you complain to 9s that you think 2b just hates you he just constantly reassures you that 2b is just like that and to just give her a little more time to warm up to you

And after travelling with her for a bit it seems like she was starting to warm up to you

For instance any time you tell her she's going to fast she'll slow down, and if your hungry she'll go fishing or go hunt a boar, if your sleepy she'll turn around and head back to the resistance camp.

If you bring it up she'll say she needed some more supplies or she needed some repairs

Won't admit it but she likes having you around because you make 9s smile so much. She loves overhearing your guy's conversations where you guys just laugh and talk (lmao mommy 2b)

Although she hates when you both gang up on her and beg her for a break or to go fishing (totally not an excuse so you and 9s can go play in the water)

She always agrees though (she's a softie and she can't say no to you two)

If you ask her to carry you she will mostly because she knows how much less durable your body is than hers

9s will most likely get jealous and ask for one too and she has no problem with it she'll just pick both of you up and walk off to the resistance camp for rest (although she does find your guy's constant giggling annoying)

A2

If you thought 2b was bad A2 is something else

The moment she saw you she thought you were a member of YoRHa and tried to take your head off you were lucky and somehow managed avoid her attack by a hair

You frantically explained that you had no idea who YoRHa was and that you weren't an android but a human

She of course didn't beileve you and turned around and left you there ignoring your pleas for help and explanation of what was happening and what happened to earth

Although something was telling her to stick around and watch to see if were telling the truth

So she did she tailed you watching as you scurried away from machines and hid from androids because according to what she heard you say "they're both the same all gears and metal."

Which did secretly tick her off because: How dare you compare us (androids) to those machines!!

After a while of watching you she couldn't tell if you were just reallly dedicated to your role or if you were actually telling the truth

But your luck had to run out eventually

You tripped while running away from three small stubby machines and a goliath biped it was because you were extremely underfed and dehydrated mostly because you could barely find any places to fish or get any fresh water without their being an android or machines watching it and you could never rest more than thirty minutes because you could always hear the loud shuffling and bangs from the machines walking around

So as the goliath raised his arm for the final blow you closed your eyes finally relieved that your days of scavenging and living in constant fear was over

However the end never came you heard a loud thud and whoosh of wind around you as if something had blocked the attack from the biped

Who would have the power to do such a thing?

You heard a series of more loud bangs and slashes and then eventually you heard 4 loud thuds and then silence except for footsteps walking towards you and stopping a few feet next to you

You kept your eyes closed and played dead in the hopes for whatever killed them wasn't very bright and thought it killed you too

"...."

"...."

"Hey I know your not dead I can see your eyes twitching get up or do you want me to leave you here for more of those things to come?

"N-NO!!"

"Then get up"

You did as you were told and followed her back to an abandoned building in the forest close to where you first met her and she was surprisingly kind and told you to rest while she kept watch over you maybe it was her seeing how exhausted you looked (or maybe how slowly you were lagging behind her on the way here gave you away)

But you took her offer gratefully and quickly fell asleep

After waking up the next day with what felt like the best sleep of your life you saw a2 standing over you with a make shift plate made out of bark with moose and boar meat and a cup of water in the other

You gratefully accepted them eating your food rather quickly (choking a bit a few times) and left with A2

After a bit of questioning she explained why she attacked you and (eventually) that she had been following you and you in return told her how you woke up and then accidently ran into her

Your journey with A2 was quiet but fufilling in a way...?

You guys avoided YoRHa members and she taught you how to look for traces of life and where to find running water (sorry but i see her being kind've like a nomad she has to get water somewhere right?) and you told her all about your life in the human world before machines

Like 9s and 2b she keeps a close eye on you and makes sure that your always well fed and well rested so you won't accidently hit anything to hard or cut yourself then fall over and die

And while you explained to her you dont die that easily she'll still make sure you where away from anything sharp and dangerous

Mosst of the time she just grabbed you by the back of your clothes slinging you over her shoulder and just walking around that way

oh how romantic!! 💓 (your pretty sure you say this to cope with idea that she might see you as baggage or worse a pet but you do you)

Operator 6O

Let's be honest the only reason you'd end up in operator 6O's care was if 2b couldn't handle you anymore and decided to kick you out and send you to the bunker

Which says a lot because she never fails a mission (wth did you do???)

But it's not all bad if anything you have it a lot easier you don't have to walk and walk till your feet feel like they'll fall off, you don't have sleep on the cold hard floor (if you were too far from the resistance camp), and no more life and death battles with the machines

Well not you, you just stood there and watched as 2b and 9s did all the work but you where a great source of emotional support :)

But the bunker was pretty nice if you liked being swarmed and bombarded with questions from all the YoRHa members in the bunker and maybe sometimes subtly touched and groped by them

Thankfully 6O is a little more calm than the others and she'll always ask for your permission before she touches you

But like 9s and the rest of the androids she'll still ask you a ton of questions

Her favorite things to talk about are flowers, animals, fashion, makeup, and skincare

If you know a lot about these topics than hallelujah!! You guys are going to be the best of friends!!

Pretty much a girly girl and if she was born in our modern world she would most likely be a very popular influencer or makeup artist and with her bubbly personality she'd probably have a few thousand if not million followers

She's really good company and she even teaches you how she does her job and you even help around when the other operators are compromised or sick (undergoing repairs) at the moment

Plus androids hearing your voice helps boost morale so it's a win-win

2b is also a favorite subject of 6O's because she considers her to be one of her closest and dearest friends (even more so after she sent her a picture of the desert rose and she does talk about that a lot) so complaining to her about 2b wouldn't do anything she'll probably do the same thing as 9s or just change the subject

And while operator 6O and you were talking another operator came over and gave something to 6O something about a 'gift from 2b'

And inside was a small pouch of makeup!! Goodie

A few 100 years old but hey it's still there!

While she was excited for the gift she didn't know how to use it so of course she looked over at you and gave you the saddest most desperate puppy eyes you'd ever seen

"Hey Y/N can you help me put this on please??"

"Err i'd love you too but i don't think that's safe it expired- well a few hundred years ago.."

"It's okay I'm sure it'll be fine our skin is really durable so it's fine!!!"

"That's not point-"

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease please-"

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!! Geez..."

Doesn't matter if you have a lot of experience or no experience with makeup she still wants your help

But don't purposely make her look bad please it'll break her heart :(

And after your done helping her apply her makeup (which looks pretty good) she is absolutely ecstatic she loves it and then she insists that it's your turn to do your make up

You do your best to try and explain that your skin wasn't like hers and that it could probably cause a lot of damage to you if not kill you

She'll be really disappointed but understand and she'll just sadly put it away

After a few more days of seeing her eye her makeup and then your face you eventually decide to give in and let her put makeup on your face but only if she helps take care of you if things go wrong and she happily agrees

She did really good actually but you only keep it on for about thirty minutes before you feel your face getting extremingly itchty and take it off to see it gave you a really bad rash (but thankfully that's all it did)

She kept her promise though and she had managed to make some rash cream after finding a recipe in the YoRHa database

And even better the cream was really effiective your rash disappeared in about a week but you told her you'll never be putting on century old makeup again and she wholeheartedly agreed this time

#neir automata #writing #9s #a2 #2b #operator 6o #neir automata x you #neir automata x human reader #neir automata x human #9s x human #2b x human #a2 x human #operator 6O x human #first writing

[just--vi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FIRST (and favorite) FIC

This fic was my first dip back into the fandom after a long long break, and I'm 100% convinced it led me to some of my loveliest friends (and turned into several more fics in the meantime).

Lil snippet under the cut if you'd like a preview.

As luck would have it the beach this time of year is frigidly cold. Tourists line the boardwalks in puffers and trench coats with scarves wrapped around their necks and beanies on their heads – if you squint toward the shops it’s a sea of multi-colored bobbles and the occasional ugly beret.

Remus’ spot isn’t far off from the thick of it. An old folding table with uneven legs that is covered in chipping paint, both old and new. He has wedged half a newspaper under the back right foot of it and is using a collection of heavy rocks to keep the painted postcards from whipping off toward the water. Just the other week he’d lost an entire stack of them because some kid had shouldered by a bit too quickly and knocked the make-shift paperweights to the ground, letting the wind catch the postcards and sending Remus scrambling desperately after them.

By the time he’d trudged back up the hill to the boardwalk the kid and his parents were gone.

As foot traffic begins to thin, Remus drops the paintbrush and stretches out the fingers of his right hand. They crack audibly, and the dull ache begins to seep its way toward his forearm. He offers one long, tired sigh before shoving gloves onto his hands and packing his things away into the rolling crate wedged underneath the low barrier between walkway and beach. Old paintings first, wrapped sensibly in plastic now that they’ve dried, newer ones gingerly on top. Paints go into the worn out bookbag that he slings over his shoulder and he waffles for a moment on the decision to try to take everything in one go, or hope his table doesn’t end up stolen or vandalized (again).

Eventually, because his fingers are beginning to go numb and snot is starting to drip out of his nose, he folds the table and hoists it up against his hip with one arm. It’s not terribly big, a handful of feet long and not quite as wide, but the worse his joints get the harder it is to lug around. He wraps his other hand around the handle of his crate and drags it awkwardly behind him, dodging evening stragglers and one dog wearing a sweater, whose owner offers up a sweet smile and gives him a rather wide berth.

His car is parked a little farther than he’d really like to walk, but he couldn’t justify the paid spots and when he’d come out this morning he’d really been feeling quite good… Now the short hill leaves him a little breathless and wheezy, and by the time he’s popping his trunk (the seats already laid down flat) his skin is prickling under his sweater, suddenly too hot.

It’s not a pretty sight, Remus wrestling the table up toward the trunk, only the snaps on the legs have long since rusted out and they keep popping open, knocking him painfully in the knee and drawing a stream of quiet curses out of his mouth, the trunk claims his elbow next and he is moments away from giving up entirely when the weight of the table shifts just enough to send him a little off balance, before sliding seamlessly into the boot.

Twisting around to offer a (faintly irritated) thanks to his helper, Remus stops dead. Suddenly the heat in his cheeks is less for the short jaunt up the hill or the bite of the wind, all flushing blood that reaches all the way into his ears.

“Err – thanks, bit of a pain to do on your own,” he mumbles, ignoring the fact that the other man seemed to have had no such problem. At the very least the comment earns him a barking laugh, head thrown backward and eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes him blush harder because it really hadn’t been that funny.

“No worries, I couldn’t watch you struggle anymore without feeling like an absolute jackass – hand alright?”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfic #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders muggle au #marauders #we're going to ignore the fact that its birthday was actually three days ago #and we're going to ignore the fact that i started and deleted a canon-compliant fic before her that will probably never see the light of da

[silent-raven13]

Miles' love

There's days when Miles is overwhelmed with the world, where his anxiety goes haywire and got him going through panic attacks. Sometimes he just needs someone to be comfortable with or be by himself. Mostly he either talks to his Hobie about personal issues, sometimes talk to his parents like stuff about school and relationship advices.

Now, many seem that Miles' is the princess type always being taken care of, always spoiled with love and being cherished like a rare gem. That may be true especially, with his punker boyfriend. Hobie had always shower his Sunflower with gifts, love, anything and everything to make sure he is happy.

But, this isn't about Miles being taken care- No, this is about Miles' being a supportive and loving partner.

Now, many would assume Hobie Brown is a punker without no issues or problems, except if he's being Spider-Punk. All Spider-Heroes have dealt with trauma and lost of their loved ones, and being a Hero- err, he doesn't believe in heroism, anyway, the struggle of protecting the innocent is already relatable with Spider-people.

However, not many knows he too have his own depression, which Miles have been very aware. it started when Hobie mentions his neglectful mother and absent father, how much he hated them for leaving such a dysfunctional family. The worst part being poor with so many siblings and trying to survive dealing with an alcoholic mother. One of the major cause of his depression when he sometimes looks over a happy family, seeing both parents loving their child can hit a nerve.

He always wanted to be loved, to be hold and often to question if he desire it. Sometimes he believe he's trash and desire to be tossed aside, because of his abusive mum's words cut him like a knife. Many think words don't bother him, it's because he had the biggest BULLY of all, his mother! Foul words have been thrown at him in such an early age that he could remember his mom sneered at how much he look a lot like his father or how ugly he is. The distasteful foul slurs she uses in spiteful hate on her children shows how bitter she became when her husband left them- her!

So yeah, he never found loving parents, and his siblings can only do so much. He always wanted to have a family that would love him. In honesty, he does get jealous at his friends' connection with their families. Of course, he loves and cherish the family he build! That's the whole point, a person create their own community, their own family with trust and love. Yet...

Ha, it's always that yet, funny?

The punker yearn to be loved, to be worth it. There's times he believe he give so much and in the end he believe he isn't worth of love. Isn't worth of being with his Sunflowers. Too flawed. Too messed up to be with his darling Miles. No, he sees how much Miles can do so much better than him- WAY BETTER!

Ganke would be perfect him.

Is always his final thoughts or many a bloke with money and kindness would be better for his Miles. These dark thoughts got him restless, spend days not sleeping well. Smoking, drinking and doing a bit of drugs would help numb the pain, and he would carefully to use a little.

Don't want to tweet out being a crackhead on the slums of New York in his world. He refuses that lifestyle, he almost went there and it was hell crawling back out especially without support.

The Punker sat on the edge of his boathouse having a smoke; a little cigarette. Days like this makes him crave for a cigarette. Just when the twenty year old tries to quit, it always comes back to him.

Miles is gonna hate me for this. Nah, he'll for sure leave. i don't deserve him. I don't deserve to be love...

He looks at the river seeing how calm it is.

Everyone is only friends with me because I don't give a shit. No one ask for my opinion or how I'me doing... I'm a shit person.

He sighs feeling his depression hitting hard.

Maybe I should call Miles- No, he doesn't want to see me like this.

He always prefer Hobie when he's cooler. The Punker believed his Sunflower wants him to be the rock, the wall that protects the two.

It's better if I just deal with this on my own.

He had trouble calling out for help, too. It's difficult for him to talk about his personal troubles rather making everything into riddles or jokes. It's a way to shield him off from the world and from his Sunflower. He knows he shouldn't, before he was about to go to his bedroom.

An orange portal opens up right in the middle of the boathouse, Miles jumps out looking at his partner. This time the nineteen year old took off his Spider-man mask to show a frown, to go over to hug him.

Hobie looked surprised for the moment, "Luv, what are you doing here?" He quickly tap his cigarette bud out.

His boyfriend hugs him tighter, "I had a feeling you weren't feeling well."

"How?"

"You're not the only that gone through this kind of stuff." Miles softly spoke, "I noticed yesterday you were quiet and distant like I was a virus. My Spider Senses been going off too. Hobie, what's wrong? You can talk to me." He kisses his Hobie's cheek, "Mi amor, please. I know, your going through with something."

"I..." The Punker frowns giving a sad puppy pout with his inky eyes looking teary then he sighs being silent.

Great, now he'll get mad and leave me. All because I don't want to bloody talk! Hobart, you are one fucking wanker!

Instead of Miles being upset with the answer, he completely understood. See, he had a feeling his boyfriend might be sensitive to talk about certain stuff, so he went to Dr. Sims for advice. Rather than demanding or expecting an answer so quick, it was best to be there to listen. Dr. Sims recommended to be patient. So Miles will, gladly being the partner his Moonflower needs.

Miles cup his punker's face pulling him into a gentle kiss on the lips. "Whatever you're going through, I'm here with you." He pulls him into another tight hug, "We don't have to talk, we can be quiet, snuggling together. You know, you have me to cry on. Take all the time you need, Hobie. I love you and I'm not leaving your side." Another kiss on the punker's cheek.

Hobie felt tears coming down his cheek as he sniffs. Miles wiped them away, and gave another kiss on his boyfriend's face. "Thanks, luv... I don't fucking deserve you." Hobie finally hugs his Sunflower tightly as he weeps to him. "Sorry...Sorry, luv. I just feel like shit today!"

Miles hugs him tighter, with his face being buries into Hobie's shoulder as he spoke, "Bae- mi alma, mi carińo! I love you, and everything about you that includes your flaws. We deserve each other! You're so worth it! I'm happy being with you." He took his boyfriends' face, again to say to his face, "Hobie Laurence Brown, I fucking love you! Your mine and I will never let you go!"

"Fuck, luv. You always have a way for words." Hobie gave a small smile through his cries, he sniffs before kissing his Sunflower. "You're my everything, luv. I just often think-" Miles cut his off, "Don't ever think like that! I will always be with you! You and me are soulmates, remember! You and I made a promise we riding this train till we die."

"Heh, you're right, luv. I just-" He buries his face into his Miles' chest to breaths in his scent. "I'm sorry..."

"Shh, it's okay. Come, I'll take you to your room! Did you eat anything? Had some water?" Miles picks his boyfriend up which caught the punker off guard. It's kinda funny seeing Miles being shorter than him picking him up like a girlfriend, especially when it's a hug carry style. Then again, Spider-man powers!

"Sweeping off me feet, Sunflower? To make me feel better..." Hobie jokes.

"We both know I wear the pants of this relationship!" Miles giggles as he happily carries his boo to his bedroom, so the two can cuddle and spend some quality time. This is the perfect time for Miles to show all his love, self care to his man, and cook for him! This is the perfect cure to making his Hobie feeling better. Everyone needs some self-care from time to time.

It wasn't long till Hobie his cuddling with his Sunflower on their bed having giggles and laughter in the room as they play with the electric guitar. Miles' love is always special to him, and he knows no one will never replace that!

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #spiderman #across the spider verse #fanfic

[stoopid-turtle]

in the swamp

Hi. I'm a rando on the internet. Nothing I say is real. Don't believe any of it. 🤡🤡🤡🤡

Okay, so I'm somebody who, in the year of our lord 2023, got sucked into bjyx. I've gone all hyper-fixated on it, and I need somewhere to splurge out my thoughts so I can at least get them out of my head.

I was honestly really reluctant to buy into bjyx. Reeeeeally reluctant. But I eventually caved, and I'd like to explain why so I can organize my thoughts.

If you're reading this, hi. I hope you enjoy. I'll link to some videos if I have the link handy, but I feel hesitant about the propriety of linking to the bts videos. I started watching them on YouTube, and after having read more widely, I guess some of them aren't supposed to be on there? Anyway, I'm just gonna err on the side of not linking to bts videos. (I don't know if it matters bc I'm in the US, on a minor platform, and it's many years on from when they were filmed, but hey, better safe or whatever)

This isn't a primer or intro, so I won't take the time to explain terms. I'll also refer to widely-known bjyx candies without too much explanation. Again, this is mainly for me.

Most of this isn't new in the turtle world. I guess I have a few thoughts that I haven't seen anybody else (in English) say, but I don't think it's that insightful. But if you want to read yet another "How I learned to stop worrying and become a turtle" post, this is for you.

It's gonna be long, though, so it's in multiple parts that I'm still editing.

I really do plan to post this, then fade into the night to resume lurking because I don't have the time for long fandom engagement. So make of it what you will and then go off and do what makes you happy.

None of this is real anyway. 🤡🤡🤡🤡

1. My Turtle Origin Story 2. Consuming Candies Pt 1: DD and GG are le Gay 3. Consuming Candies Pt 2: DD ❤️ GG and GG ❤️ DD 4. Miscellany and Such 5. The Acceptance of Unsteady Ground

Special Turtle Prezzie! Timeline of GGDD Love <- 🐢🎁❤️

#bjyx #yizhan #i guess i'm a clown? #but aren't we all? #am i doing this right?

[ikeromantic]

Happy (almost 2024). I'd like to request Sariel, eggnog, and party.

Oooooh I like this one. I hope you enjoy! Approx. 1200 words of Sariel to warm your heart. IkePri New Years Event story!

Sariel stood at the fringes, half hidden in shadows. Just as he preferred. He was here to watch and arrange, not to have a good time. His purpose here was to ensure no diplomatic incident and to gather intel. People let themselves go at a party. Alcohol and music were great to loosen the lips of even the most determined schemer. 

Nokto was working his skills with the ladies, while Jin and Leon chatted up the noblemen and merchants. Chevalier held court over a collection of traditionalists, and even Yves had a small entourage of primarily foreign dignitaries in conversation. Things were going well. Almost too well.

His gaze narrowed as he searched the party for the one face he hoped not to see. But there he was. Face half-hidden behind a party mask. The hell cat. His smile said something was planned. Perhaps already in motion. Sariel did another quick check of the room, but saw nothing out of place. 

He hurried toward the servant’s entrance, already armed with the beginnings of a plan. The disturbance must be located and neutralized before - “Emma?”

She was already there, handing out orders to the serving staff and palace guard. “It could look like anything,” she told them. “An envelope. A small cloth sachet. A bag. If you see something like that out of place, immediately - carefully - remove it.”

Sariel couldn’t help but smile as she handled the crisis with grace. And much the same as he might have. Giving orders as if she were born to it. Thinking through what she knew of the hellcat’s tactics. He leaned close and whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

Emma hadn’t realized he was there and nearly jumped at the sudden, soft voice. But she managed to restrain her surprise to a slight squeak as she spun. “Sariel! Oh my goodness. You really - you shouldn’t sneak up on people!”

He grinned at her expression, caught between amusement and offense. “Many have told me this, and yet my habit remains.” 

She laughed and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “My beloved devil. I should probably just get used to surprises.”

“As should I. I didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on things tonight.” 

“I didn’t plan to, but when I saw Clavis slip in, I knew something was about to go down.” Emma gave a slight shrug. “A minister is never off duty, right?”

Sariel nodded. “Correct. I overheard your orders. Very well done.”

She grinned. “I did learn from the best.” 

“You are an excellent pupil.” He pulled her into a hug. On duty or not, he wanted to hold her, even if just for a moment. She leaned into him with a happy sigh, and for a moment, they just stood like that. 

Then, from the balcony, there was a muted boom followed by coughing. Sariel and Emma sprang apart and rushed toward the sound. 

Cyran stepped in from the balcony, a look of apology on his face. “Err, sorry everyone. Nothing to worry about. I just dropped something.” The poor man was covered head to toe in ashy blue powder. 

Sariel quickly tossed a coat over him and escorted him from the hall. Emma followed close behind. Once out of earshot, Sariel stopped and turned to the soldier. “What was that?”

“Nothing to worry about. I just dropped a little something off the balcony.” Cyran cleared his throat. “Hopefully it was one of a kind . . .”

“Yes,” Emma and Sariel said at the same time, earning them an amused look. “What else does Prince Clavis have planned,” Sariel continued.

The soldier shrugged. “Who says the prince had anything to do with this? I’m just a little clumsy.”

Sariel frowned. “You know, you don’t have to cover for him. If you agree to testify -”

“Gonna stop you right there. I’m clumsy, and I guarantee there’s no proof Prince Clavis had anything to do with anything. Now. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get this blue stuff off.”

Emma gave a nod. Sariel would have kept questioning the soldier longer, but she was probably right. They wouldn’t get more from him. Cyran was very loyal for reasons Sariel felt he would never understand. Clavis was a menace. “Fine. Go get cleaned up. You best hope you’re right about there being no proof. Because I’d lock the hellcat up in a heartbeat.”

Cyran just grinned and ambled off, leaving a little trail of blue dust in his wake. 

“Do you think that’s the end of it,” Emma asked when they were alone again.

“Doubtful. There wasn’t enough of that blue dust to do more than annoy the -” Sariel’s response was cut short as a series of muted booms echoed down the hall from the ballroom. A moment later, merchants and nobles began to scream. They rushed from the room, dusted in blue. And behind them, Clavis’ laughter rang out as wild as the hellcat himself.

Sariel and Emma ran to the room, but it was far too late. Leon and Jin were coated with the stuff, and Yves was barely recognizable. Chevalier’s pristine white cape was cerulean now, and his icy gaze stared out of blued skin. Clavis wasn’t untouched, but he didn’t seem to care. He had only a moment to enjoy the prank though, as Chevalier reached for his sword. 

Clavis, still cackling, darted from the room with his brother in hot pursuit. The other princes followed, though whether to punish Clavis or stop Chevalier was unclear. 

Emma looked around the room, aghast. “I can’t believe it. Look.” She pointed up. “He attached them to the chandeliers. They probably burst when the packets warmed enough.”

Sariel nodded. There was no one left now in the ballroom. Just them and the blue-dusted remains of the decorations. The servants would come later for clean-up, and tomorrow he would have his hands full with smoothing over this debacle. But right now . . . his amethyst gaze landed on Emma. 

She was dressed for the party, her gown of silk and lace clung to her most fetchingly. And with the party technically over, they were as off-duty as a minister could get. “What are you thinking about,” she asked. “You have that dangerous smile on your face.”

He held out a hand to her, and felt a little thrill of joy when she took it without question. Then he began to lead her in a formal waltz, as if music still played. Emma knew the steps well by now, and moved gracefully with him as if she too could hear the music in his mind. She laughed softly and rested her head on his shoulder.

The blue dust stirred in the air around them, a strange and magic haze that sparkled where the light hit it. Sariel felt as if, for a moment, there was only he and Emma in the world. As if this moment was everything, with his lover in his arms. He spun her and then caught her, pulling her close.

“Have I told you that I love you,” he asked, his gaze locked with hers. 

“Hmmmm . . . have you? I’d need to check my files for a confession . . .” She smiled up at him, happiness etched in every line of her.

Sariel nodded. “I see. Then -” He brushed his lips to hers in a featherlight kiss. “I love you. You are an amazing woman.” 

Her cheeks heated at his words, or perhaps it was the look in his eyes. “I love you too.” 

“I know.”

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri sariel #sariel noir #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys

[mrsgreenworld]

Okay, I think what I initially planned as only a 2-chapter fic is going to be a three or maybe even four-parter. I also wanted to try and write this chapter from Yaman's POV.

I don't own the show or the characters, they all belong to the Yabani writers, producers and the production company. This is only fanfiction.

Time, Distance And Healing (Chapter 2)

Yaman pulls up at the main entrance to the house and kills the engine. He sneaks a glance at Alaz who's looking out of the car window thoughtfully.

"Home, sweet home" Alaz murmurs quietly.

"C'mon, let's get inside, everyone's waiting for you" Yaman says with all the enthusiasm he can master, even though he's panicking on the inside and has been in the state of paralyzing dread all their ride home.

He knows that his ever so perceptive little brother suspects something. That's why Yaman almost spilled his guts several times. He's torn between the desire to be honest and just wanting his little brother next to him. Even though they talked over the phone almost every day, they've barely seen each other over the last 5 years. Alaz came back only once, for the wedding. Yaman's visited him a few times in America, alone as well as with their siblings, and the last time a few months ago with Rüya. Those visits weren't nearly enough, leaving Yaman constantly missing his little brother. So finally having Alaz back home feels like a blessing but Yaman knows it won't last because all hell will break loose once Alaz learns the news.

Will Alaz stay once he learns the truth? Will he ever come back after that? Will he allow anyone to come to him? Will he talk to any of them ever again? Or will he consider keeping everything from him a betrayal? Yaman's so not looking forward to getting the answers to all these questions.

"Is she already here?" Alaz's voice pulls Yaman from the anxious whirlwind of his thoughts.

"Err ... Nope. Not yet. She'll come over a bit later".

Alaz just nods and climbs out of the car. Yaman follows him after drawing in a deep nervous breath. They walk to the front door and open it, only to be assaulted by loud pops of crackers and confetti raining on their heads and some flying right into their faces. Yaman's sure he's swallowed a few.

"Welcome home, Alaz!!!" their mother, sisters, Rüya and Feride Abla all scream together.

Then all of them take turns hugging Alaz. They talk over each other, shooting questions in rapid succession. But beneath the very real happiness of finally seeing Alaz, Yaman can also see everyone buzzing with the same nervous energy that he's feeling. Çağla and Ece are the worst really, both of them have panic and guilt written all over their faces. And of course Alaz catches on it immediately and just when he opens his mouth to say something about it, Yaman jumps in with:

"Alaz, güzel kardeşim benim, we forgot your bags, let's get them out of the car".

Alaz looks at him with suspicion but nods and they step out to get the bags. Yaman opens the trunk when he hears Alaz ask:

"Okay, Abisi, tell me: what's going on?"

Yaman knows it's a lost cause but he plays dumb nonetheless:

"What are you talking about? Nothing's going on".

Alaz just gives him the look.

"I swear nothing is going on".

"Really? First you were being all shifty on our ride home. Now everyone else is acting weird".

"They aren't acting weird, they're just happy to see you. They've missed you".

Yaman tosses the backpack at Alaz and then pulls out the suitcase, slamming the trunk shut.

Alaz follows Yaman's every move like a hawk and Yaman knows that his brother won't drop it. That's why he almost runs inside the house from Alaz's scrutinizing gaze. Everyone's waiting for them in the living room, exchanging nervous glances. Yaman mouthes a desperate: "Play cool!" and adds loudly for Alaz to hear:

"Kardeşim, let's get your luggage upstairs, to your room. Maybe you also want to change and get some rest after the long flight".

"I'm fine. You, - and I mean all of you - on the other hand, are up to something" Alaz says, pointing his signature finger at everyone.

"What?? No!"

"Pfff!"

"Don't be silly!"

"What do you mean? We're just happy you're home!"

Everyone's talking over each other again and playing so not cool that Yaman wants to facepalm. He pats Alaz's shoulder and says:

"C'mon, Alaz, let's go upstairs, I promise we'll talk but after you get some rest, take a shower, maybe unpack. Ok?"

Alaz narrows his eyes at him:

"I knew there's something!"

"Alaz, please, let's go. I'll tell you everything, we'll all talk together, just not right now".

"Is it about her? Is something wrong with her?” Alaz raises his voice and Yaman sees alarm in his brother's eyes.

He sees something else too: the beast that Alaz has spent the last 5 years taming and training - Yaman sees that beast pulling on its shackles.

"I swear to god, Yaman, if something ... Is Asi okay?"

It's the first time Alaz's said her name in 5 years. He's always asked about Asi but for some reason she's become the Voldemort whose name was never mentioned.

"She's okay. She'll be here soon and you'll see for yourself that she's totally fine" Yaman reassures Alaz and hears Çağla mutter:

"You won't believe how fine".

Yaman glares at his sister and focuses on Alaz again:

"She's fine, I promise. Now let's go upstairs, please".

Alaz throws a miffed look at everyone but gives a curt nod and reluctantly agrees:

"Fine! But you're all hiding something. Not for long though!"

He follows Yaman upstairs, to his old room. Yaman enters first, rolls Alaz's suitcase inside and leaves it beside the couch. He turns to Alaz who walks to the bed and drops the backpack. Yaman observes as his brother looks around the room and mutters:

"Nothing's changed. Everything's just the way I left it".

"We thought you'd like it that way. If you want to change something, it's better if you do it yourself".

Alaz just nods and then freezes. Yaman follows his gaze and sees that it's fixed on a picture on one of the bedside tables. The picture of Alaz himself ... with Asi. Yaman remembers the day the picture was taken like it was yesterday. It was him who made it. It was a rare moment of quiet and peaceful happiness that Yaman felt truly lucky to have captured. Because Alaz and Asi were never quiet or peaceful. They weren't really happy either and that was the saddest part. Because they loved each other but loving each other isn't always enough. And it broke Yaman's heart. Especially it broke for his little brother. Who couldn't be with the love of his life but also never learnt to be without her.

"Kardeşim?" Yaman says carefully.

"Hm?" is Alaz's only response, eyes still fixed on the photo.

"I love you. So very much. You know that, right? And I'm so proud of you".

The words finally catch Alaz's attention and he turns to Yaman with raised eyebrows.

"What's up with you, Abisi? Caught a love bug? Or trying to get on my good side so that you won't catch hell once I learn what you've all been hiding from me?"

Yaman lets out a short laugh at Alaz being well, Alaz.

"I've just missed you, that's all. And I feel like I don't tell you this enough".

Alaz narrows his eyes at him but Yaman sees the vulnerability beneath all the suspicion and sarcasm. Alaz's still not used to hearing people say that they love him. He's not used to people actually meaning it.

"Okay, whatever" he mutters and immediately adds:

"You wanted me to get some rest, unpack and change so badly. Why don't you leave me to it?"

Yaman nods quickly and makes a bee line for the door. Once the door closes behind him, Yaman exhales heavily:

"Oh my god, this is so not going to end well".

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