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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

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Our First Defeat

Chapter 1: You’ve Cut Me to the Bone

Uh, oh- guess what time it is? That’s right chicks, dicks, and everyone in betwix(t)....

It’s ‘another series that should’ve just been a straightforward one shot’ time!!!!

This is probably going to be at least a four parter, so buckle up buttercups.

Warnings: Smut, infidelity, oral, cum play, longing, ANGST, Lewis being a shitty husband to Katherine, run-on sentences, feels, probably OOC Nixy-poo, childhood f2l mention, mentions of prom sex so underage I guess(?), potty words, rich people parties, reader is tipsy when they boink but so is Nix and it’s pre-established desire so idk man

Special thanks to @sunsetmando for being my constant idea sounding board and cheerleader and to @liebgotttme and @mrsalwayswrite for their unfalteringly supportive praise despite my constant self-inflicted shit talking!

Title and chapter names will come from the first defeat by noah gundereson

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Say what you wanted to about Doris and Stan Nixon, but they sure threw one hell of a party.

Waiters in sharp suits, sparkling crystal glasses filled with golden champagne, marble floors polished to a near reflective shine- nothing but the very best for the engagement party for Mrs. Nixon’s baby boy.

If your heart hadn’t already become calloused from heartbreak, you probably would burst into tears.

You’d known the Nixons all of your life, and with Nixon being a year and a half your senior and his younger sister being three years your junior, the three of you had little choice to become anything other than close. Even when Lewis had grown old enough to get sick of girls and their games of dress up and make-believe, you and he still managed to get along.

You were both the oldest children in your families, and for a while you had also attended the same advanced reading course offered by your private elementary school’s librarian. Your shared love of books had bonded you nearly as much as your shared birth orders, and it wasn’t uncommon for your parents to find you both nose deep in one of your father’s large tomes of mythology.

It surprised no one that the two of you became close as you got older.

What did strike both of your families as odd was just how close you two stayed- especially when you both started attending your respective boy’s and girl’s boarding schools. You’d been each other’s penpals, school dance dates, and summer trip companions.

After your Junior prom, you’d lost your virginities to each other after polishing off two bottles of lethally strong port wine. Nixon, sex-drunk and just plain old drunk-drunk, had insisted that he’d done ‘other things’ with girls- that he wasn’t really a virgin but he’d yet to actually do the act.

As if he was worried that you’d make fun of him.

As if you’d think less of him for it.

Of course, things had changed once college came around.

He became busy with his studies, and you had thrown yourself into attaining your nursing credentials. He’d gotten a fair share of girlfriends and you’d had a few relationships of your own.

When your families would get together for holidays and birthdays, the two of you would inevitably sneak off and fuck until one of you decided that someone was going to notice your absences.

Then, after rejoining everyone else for an appropriately deemed amount of time, you’d rush off again to repeat the cycle. Sex with Lewis was everything you’d been told you shouldn't want- hard and desperate and just left of dirty but God did you love it. You loved the way your bodies fit together, the way his breath felt on your neck as he held onto you so tightly that you thought he might leave bruises. The way he kissed you as if he were drinking the air from your lungs, like he needed your lips in order to breathe, to live.

More than anything, you loved the ease that existed between you two- the way you both helped the other redress and how he would take your face in his hands and call you sweet things as he gave you languid kisses before giving you a wicked grin and guiding you both back to the party.

It wasn’t ideal, and more often than not you’d feel hollow again after a few days, but your trysts with Lew were the closest thing you had to a consistent relationship.

When Pearl Harbor happened, you’d made the decision to enlist as a field nurse. Nixon had begun to attend an Officer’s school, so you’d already started to resign yourself to the fact that this fling of yours could never be anything more than just that, a fling. Apparently he had, too.

You’d felt like you had been punched in the stomach when you heard about Katherine.

He hadn’t even told you that he was seriously seeing someone, let alone considering marrying anyone.

It had hurt more than you wanted to admit.

How you managed to keep a straight face when his mother proudly told you and your mother about the engagement, you’ll never know.

All you did know was that he’d made a choice, and it wasn’t you.

And you had to get over it.

Even so, it had still taken both your mother and your father to convince you to come to this party tonight. Your brother and sister had been allowed to stay home- they were still considered too young to attend such frivolous events.

Lucky bastards.

But you’d let your mother dress you in a velvet gown of indigo-violet decorated with rhinestones across the bodice and sleeves, allowed your younger sister to braid your hair in a halo around your head (despite your mother’s plea for you to wear it in a more fashionable and mature style) and even gotten a grumble of a compliment from your sulking teenage brother and greeted the Nixon’s with the same amount of warmth you always had.

If nothing else, finishing school had taught you well when it came to hiding your true feelings.

Katherine was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, her hair shiny and her skin perfect and her body curvy and tight in all the right places. Her sky blue dress draped across her form perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

Her hands were graceful and delicate- the perfect canvas for the huge diamond ring Nix had bestowed upon her.

To make matters worse? You liked her.

She was smart and well-spoken, with a habit of interrupting someone mid-sentence but that wasn’t enough to make you dislike her.

“Lew’s sung your praises for years,” Katherine had smiled smally after you’d introduced yourself to her. “it’s wonderful to finally put a face to the name….”

“It’s all lies, most likely,” you assured with a grin, a sudden realization hitting you. “Speaking of Little Lew—”

Katherine rolls her eyes and offers a conspiratory whisper.

“Pretty sure he’s stress smoking somewhere upstairs. I’ve been trying to get him to quit—”

You snort at that. “Then you are far braver than most, and you have my respect.”

You look over your shoulder, frowning as you took in the scene.

Turning back to Katherine, you give her a nod.

“I’ll hurry him along,” you murmur softly. “Drag him down by the ear if I’ve got to—”

“Consider my respect earned in kind, then.”

Sharing a smile, you politely excuse yourself and slip away up the stairs.

You had a feeling that you knew exactly where Nix was hiding.

The formal library was dark wood and warm leather, with deep seats and cigar smoke stained books that sat on shelves so high that even the tallest man needed to utilize the built-in ladder to reach the top.

As children, you and Lewis had spent countless hours reading of far-away lands and exotic adventures, darting back and forth between whatever book you’d decided on and the grand globe by the window to trace your fingers over countries neither of you would probably ever actually visit.

This room held your sweetest memories, as well as some of your racier ones.

Finding Lewis in here was only fitting.

He looked unbearably handsome- sat on the windowsill with the wind fluttering his hair across his forehead while the moon lit up his profile and made him look like some exquisite marble statue.

The cigarette between his lips reminded you of all the times he’d smoke after fucking you, the way he’d exhale the smoke into your parted lips before kissing you so deeply your toes would curl.

“I could get used to this,” he’d said, after one of your last trysts.

“What, smoking yourself to death in your dad’s library?”

He’d shot you a glare before attacking your neck with kisses that left you giggling from how they tickled your skin.

“No, Smartass,” Lewis said as he nudged your nose with his, a lazy smile clear on his face when he lifted his head away from you enough to meet your eyes. “This, with you. Not having to rush off before your mom comes looking for you. It’s nice….”

That felt like a lifetime ago.

“If you frown at the moon any longer,” you call out, smirking at the way he startles before realizing it’s just you. “You’re gonna get a wrinkle before all the wedding photos.”

He shoots you a look, shaking his head before turning to stub out the cigarette in the silver ashtray.

“Not even gonna lull me into a false sense of security before giving me shit, huh?”

With a practiced ease, he gently slides the window back into place and locks it, fanning the lingering wafts of smoke from around his face before turning to fully face you.

A familiar smile crosses his face that has you rolling your eyes.

“Well, I’ve gotta get all I can out of my system- now that you’ve gone and replaced me.”

With another withering look, Lew comes up and kisses your cheek before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and another around your waist to lower you into a dipped hug.

“Hey now,” he grumbles into the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your neck and causing you to shiver. “I think you’re underestimating your talents if you think anyone can fling smartass comments my way better than you- oh!”

Twisting you back up so you’re both standing, he pushes the door to the library closed to get to the bookshelf behind it.

With curiosity, you watch him pull a book from the shelf and present it to you with a flourish.

“A gift for you, my lady.”

Rolling your eyes, you take the book in your hands and peer at the cover.

You recognize the title immediately as a Poirot mystery, a grin breaking across your lips as you realize it’s one of your favorites- a collection of short stories featuring the Belgian detective and Captain Hastings.

As you open the book, you suck in a breath when you see the scrawl of Agatha Christie’s signature across the title page, and upon further inspection, you realize it’s a first edition.

“Holy shit, Lew…” you whisper, running your fingertip across the indents in the paper her heavy-handed scrawl. “Where’d this come from? How’d you know….?”

Looking up at Lewis again, you are slightly embarrassed by the amused expression on his face, deciding to look back down rather than acknowledge how clearly he was watching your reaction.

“Well,” he begins, stepping behind you to squeeze your shoulders. “It came from a bookshop, believe it or not—”

“Lewis—”

“And as for the how….Blanche told me in one of her letters.”

That gives you pause again- the reminder that you and he hadn’t written anything to each other in quite some time.

Clearing your throat, you set the book down on one of the desks and bring a hand up to rest over one of his. “That’s very…..thank you.”

You feel him press a quick peck to the crown on your head, something you were fine with until you left the pressure of his lips lingering there.

“I hope, uh…hoped you’d also take it as a sort of, er- peace offering, of sorts….”

You feel your shoulders tense at that. The blood in your veins suddenly feels cold and dead.

You’d hoped he wouldn’t do anything like this- wouldn’t bring any of this up.

“I’m sure I don't know what you’re talking about—”

“Yes you do.”

Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you turn around to face him.

“There’s nothing to offer peace for,” it’s taking more effort than you like to keep your voice even. “What you do with your life is none of my business.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you should’ve heard about it from me,” he says quietly, and as his breath fans across your face you can pick up the sweet bite of whiskey beneath the smell of cigarette smoke. “That was….I should’ve been the one to tell you—”

“I don’t see why you felt you had to.” You give him a tight smile, working hard to keep yourself from scowling. “It’s not like we made any promises to each other….which I thought was the whole appeal of me, if I’m being honest.”

Lewis brings his hands up to brush against your jaw, the unexpectedly soft touch making you shudder before you can stop yourself

“You’ve got to have known that I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N—”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss under your breath, biting the insides of your lip and shaking your head. “That’s unfair, you can’t do this- it’s wildly unfair to Katherine, it’s not fair to me—”

Lewis scoffed at that, a rueful smirk twisting his face as he let his eyes trail down your face.

“‘Unfair’....what’s unfair is asking me to go down there and pretend like everything’s hunky-dory when you’re here, looking like everything I’ve ever wanted in my goddamned life and expecting me to act like I wasn’t wishing you were on my arm instead—”

“Jesus Christ, Lewis, that’s enough—” you cross your arms across your chest as you step back out of his touch and turn to look at the wall of books. “What’s the matter with you? I’ve always known you could be an asshole, but this is cruel, even for you—”

“How am I being an asshole?” he snaps, taking your shoulders and turning you back to face him, his frown deep and imploring. “Because I’m being honest? Huh? ‘Cause I’m telling you the truth—?”

“Because you’re telling me the truth now!” you say venomously, letting your own face morph into a scowl. “Tonight, the fucking night where we’re all here to celebrate you and Katherine getting married! You can’t just expect me to not respect that—”

“What if I told you I didn’t even want to marry her—?”

“Lower your voice!”

You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to each other until you accidentally scuff your toes against the side of his polished shoe, something that shocks you out of your anger like a cold splash of water.

His cheeks are rosy with both drink and frustration, and you’re pretty sure that your face is flushed as well. Closing your eyes, you sigh and hang your head.

“If you didn’t want this,” you say a bit more calmly. “Then why did you ask her in the first place?”

You startle slightly at the feeling of him taking your hand, opening your eyes to watch him bring it to his clean-shaven cheek and hold it there. His eyes look tired, sad almost.

“Because I’m being shipped out soon,” he sighs heavily, twisting his head enough to press a kiss to your palm as the air whooshes out of your lungs in a pained sigh. “Because it’s what’s expected of me.”

Meeting your hesitant gaze, he offers a sad little smile and a shrug.

“Because it couldn’t be you, I didn’t really care who it was—”

Quickly, you take back control of the hand he’s holding and put your fingertips gently over his lips, your throat feeling tight at the admission.

“Don’t,” you whisper shakily. “Don’t finish that sentence….”

Taking your hand again, he moves it away from his mouth.

“Why not?” he says back just as quietly, eyes scanning your face. “Am I being an asshole?”

You shake your head, chest tightening as you take in his confession. “You’re breaking my heart all over again.”

He nods, his jaw clenching as he studies you. “I keep doing that, don’t I?”

When you don’t show any sign of amusement at his comment, he encourages you to wrap an arm around his neck as he pulls you into another borderline inappropriate embrace. A hug that was better suited for two lovers rather than two friends grieving a future that was entirely hypothetical.

His lips press to the side of your throat, inhaling the smell of your skin deeply and slowly.

“I don’t mean to,” he whispers, splaying his large hand across the small of your back. “I really want you to know that.”

You stay silent, focusing all of your energy into not crying.

Even if he had asked you to marry him, you would’ve had to say no.

Married women were unwelcome in all branches of military nursing- and you had worked too hard to ever consider giving that dream up.

Not even for Lewis Nixon….although you probably would’ve thought about it harder.

“I sometimes wish we’d never kissed,” you say with emotion in your voice, letting him hold you even closer at your hushed admission. “I wish I didn’t care about you, then we wouldn’t have to be like this…”

“I don’t,” he mumbled against your skin. “I wouldn’t take any of this back- even if I could.”

You shake your head sadly as you bring your other arm around his shoulders to more fully embrace him.

“That’s because you’re a masochist almost as much as you are a sadist—”

He groans at that, taking his face from your neck to press his cheek against yours.

“I knew getting you those Freud books was a mistake….”

This time you allow yourself to sigh a laugh. “Only because they seem to hit the nail on the head when it comes to explaining why you are how you are.”

“An asshole?”

“Yeah, Lew.” you gently break free of his embrace and smooth your hands down the front of his tuxedo- straightening his bowtie on the way. “Now you’re getting it.”

He looks as if he’s going to say something else, but you force a smile on your face and shake your head.

“C’mon, Mr. Nixon,” you say with a nod. “Your public awaits you. Best not keep them waiting.”

“Y/N—” He calls as you turn on your heel and walk to open the door.

“I’ll see you down there, Lewis.”

With that admonishing reminder, you open the door and hurry to find the restroom in order to collect yourself.

Dinner was going to be hell.

Of course, Doris sat you beside where Lewis was seated in the middle of the table- Katherine on his left and you on his right.

“Surrounded by his favorite girls,” Mrs. Nixon had cooed, standing behind Lewis’s chair and squeezing his shoulders excitedly. “What a lucky man you are….”

They had only just served the soup and already you wanted to crawl out of your skin.

The only things that saved you were wine and the endless stream of one-sided conversation from Katherine’s young cousin Marcus, who sat to your right.

He couldn’t have been more than sixteen- eyes wide and battle-hungry as he prattled on about the training courses he planned on enrolling in so that he could go to Japan and take revenge for the lives lost during Pearl Harbor. It served as a good distraction from the feeling of Lew’s eyes on your profile, silently begging you to turn and look at him.

You didn’t give in.

Marcus’s heart was in the right place, and it wasn’t his fault that you were trying to drown your distress in the sea of white wine you were creating inside of your belly.

But you had the feeling that if you had to listen to any more talk of what his brother had told him about the Navy and how prestigious their ships were, you were going to smack your head against the table until you passed out.

The only person who seemed to pick up on your distress was Lewis, and right now you were pretty committed to ignoring his attempts of conversation- hoping that by doing so you were strong-arming him into actually talking to Katherine, who was being so charming and well mannered that you felt like you were suffocating.

As you brought your fourth glass of wine to your lips, Lew decided to speak rather than just look.

“Think maybe you should slow down, Y/N?” Lewis says it quietly enough that only you and Katherine can hear him, and when you turn to face him you catch the sight of the other woman suppressing a chuckle into her glass of sparkling water.

A drop of resentment stains your previously high regard for her- her slight amusement being amplified to condescension in your current bitter state.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, Little Lewie,” you say with a light slur in your voice- one that only those who truly knew you would be able to detect.

As a child, you’d had a slight speech impediment that you’d grown out of with proper training and practice. It was only when you were overly tired or when you drank that it slipped back into your speech.

You could feel that now, its presence heavy on your tongue.

“Just gettin’ it outta my system while I’ve still got the chance……”

When you're able to find his eyes with your own, you see the concern shining in them and suddenly feel like you want to cry.

You can’t help but think that this could’ve been yours- your engagement party, your future.

You’d say that the ring on Katherine’s finger could’ve been yours as well, but if you were being honest you found it too gaudy and flashy for your taste.

Lewis probably would’ve known that, too….would’ve chosen something significantly smaller and much more simple to present to you while down on one knee.

But he’s not mine, should’ve stopped thinking of him as mine a long time ago.

Without another word to him you slid your chair back from the table and stood, nodding appreciatively to the butler who instantly appeared to scoot the chair back into place.

Your mother, who was sitting closer to the door, gave you a worried look as you made to walk past her, silently asking if you were alright.

With a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gently placed your hand on her shoulder in false reassurement that you were just fine. You mouth the word ‘bathroom’, as you passed her and exited the dining room.

How you managed not to run up the staircase in search of somewhere you could let your mask of contentment fall away, you have no idea.

But you did. Your finishing school teachers would’ve been proud.

Rushing through the library you knew better than the back of your hand, you quickly found the small, slightly hidden room behind a sculpture that held all the wealth of paper and writing supplies.

The door barely shuts behind you before you suck in a shaking breath, face hot with tears you were refusing to shed. Each exhale sounds as if it’s being punched out of you, hands reaching out into the dark to feel for the wall so you can find the small footstool to sit upon.

You were right, you couldn’t do this.

It was too much, despite how desperately you’d tried to callous over the raw part of your heart that still ached for him. Resting your head in your hands, you try to slow your breathing, to muffle to sobs begging to be freed from your chest.

The sound of the door clicking open has you shooting to your feet in surprise, the wine in your blood making itself known as you teeter slightly and you have to brace your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

The snap of the light being turned on makes you squint at the sudden brightness, the sight of Lewis breathing heavily as he leans against the door to close it behind him making your heart race even faster.

“You shouldn’t-” you have to sniff quickly before finishing your admonishment. “You really shouldn’t be here, Lewis.”

He nods, his Adam's apple jumping in his throat as he swallows, eyes trailing up and down your body. “I know.”

Even as he says it, Lewis starts walking towards you. “I should go….”

Your own breathing has become deep and heavy, lips parted to accommodate the sudden desperate need for more air in your lungs.

Mind having failed you, you search for the right words to send him away- to tell him that what’s about to happen is wrong and that you’re just making it harder on yourselves in the long run.

But all you can think as he reaches you, his hands coming up to hold your face with an unmistaken intention, is that you are going to explode if he doesn’t kiss you right now.

Lucky for you, his thoughts seem to be similarly inclined.

He kisses you so hard that you think your lips will bruise, his hands pulling your face so desperately close that his eyelashes tickle your cheeks as his eyes squeeze shut.

As you moan somewhere deep in your throat, Lewis opens his mouth to swallow the sound. His hair is soft in your hands, your fingers fisting and pulling at it until he makes a groan of his own.

You allow yourself to rise up on your toes to make his head tilt back slightly, gasping into his lips when he suddenly uses his grip on your face to pull your mouth back from his.

He licks his bottom lip, whispering your name so you open your eyes and look at him with a heavy-lidded gaze.

“I-I don’t want to go without one more….” he seems to be at a loss for words, which for Lewis Nixon is truly unusual. But you think you can read his frustrated silence.

Your eyes search his dark ones, uncurling your fists from his roots to bring your thumbs to his forehead and smooth the concerned furrow in his brow.

“Okay,” you whisper, coming down off of your toes to brush your nose against his. “Then do it.”

As if your words were a racing gun’s shot, Lewis hungrily kisses you again- backing you up against the wall and clutching at you with carnal desperation.

You lose yourself in his fervor, scratching your nails down the back of his neck just shy of leaving a mark and moving to loosen his bowtie.

He catches your hands and pins them beside your head, squeezing them in a silent request to keep them there. You nod into the kiss, gasping for breath when he tears his mouth from yours and drops to his knees before you.

Looking down your body at him, you pant lewdly as you watch his hands disappear beneath the skirt of your dress and hurriedly pull your underpants down around your ankles.

The only patience he shows is in his careful assistance of helping your step out of them, but then he is immediately returning to his pilgrimage to the warm place between your thighs- bunching the deep violet-blue fabric in one fist while his other hand encourages your thigh up and over his shoulder.

He kisses you down there just as thoroughly as he had your mouth, licking the hot petals greedily to part the way to your clit before attacking it noisily and skillfully. Your head makes a dull sound as it lolls back to hit the wall, your hips surging forward at the gentle and unintentional scrape of his teeth against the soft flesh.

In an apologetic motion, the hand holding your dress beside your waist rubbing its thumb soothingly across your side.

You allow one of your hands to drop from beside your head to rest over his, your sigh of forgiveness getting lost in a breathy keen of pleasure.

“Shit,” you sigh, bowing your head forward to watch him look up at you from between your legs. “Jesus Christ, Lewis!”

Rather than take his mouth from you to reply, he elects to moan into your sex, the vibration striking somewhere deep inside of you that has your thighs quaking. Your eyes drift closed as he continues to suckle on you, the sound of him inhaling sharply through his nose making you feel dizzy with heady desire.

It had been almost a year since he’d last gone down on you- only because that was the last time you were afforded enough time for such foreplay.

And he’d only gotten better at it.

With careful yet distracted motions, he maneuvers the hand covering his so you are now holding your skirt up and out of the way for him. You open your eyes at the same moment you feel his fingers curl inside of you, an airy mewl slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble stupidly down at him, finally bringing your other hand down to fist in his hair again as you begin to see the white-hot orgasm creeping into the sides of your vision. “Too soon….I’m sorry, it’s too soon—!”

His intentional humming around your bud paired with the cruelly perfect crook of his fingers sends your careening over the precipice of pleasure.

Your body shakes and your hips buck uncontrollably as he refuses to relent his near fervent milking of your orgasm.

You keep expecting him to stop, to pull away from you and start to seek his own release.

But he just doesn’t stop.

“What’re you doing?” you ask brokenly, keening into another moan as he slips one more finger inside of you. “Get up here and—ohhh!”

“Again, “ you hear him grunt into you with a near frantic tone. “Give me one more….”

You’re absolutely lost as he ushers you into another orgasm, mouth feeling dry from the open mouth panting you’ve had to resort to in order to remain lucid.

“I need you,” you whimper pathetically, your eyes open and unseeing as you gasp for breath in a vain attempt at cooling the fire burning in your body. “Please, I need you inside me….please, Lewis!”

It feels like he’s only just unsealed his lips from your sex when suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and his hand is cupped around the back of your head, kissing you languidly as your thrumming ears pick up on the soft sounds of fabric being untucked and trousers being shoved open and down.

Before you can manage to find the coordination to bring your hands down to help him free his cock, you feel him bringing the same thigh that had been over his shoulder up to hook around his hip.

With a familiarity that aches in both your heart and your core, you wrap your arm around his shoulders and nod into the kiss, just as you had that first time in your dorm room after the night of your Junior prom.

After one more soft peck, Lewis sheaths himself fully inside of you.

Your face twists at the abrupt fullness that stretches your sex to the sweet-stinging point that you ache for more often than you liked to admit, eyes flashing open in euphoric alarm as the man you’d loved since you were fifteen fucked into you with a punishing pace.

Apparently, he was just as desperate for you as you had been for him.

It’s now he who is making desperate noises that have to be muffled, his face buried into the slope where your shoulder meets your neck.

At some point, he’s managed to undo the button at the top of the back of your dress, nosing the fabric around your collarbones open so he can latch his lips to the flesh at the curve of your shoulder- worrying at the skin with tongue, teeth, and lips.

If you were in a teasing mood, you’d accuse him of having an oral fixation.

Lewis would make another comment about how much he regretted giving you the books by Sigmund Freud.

You’d try to offer some witty retort, only to be cut off by him pinching at your clit and biting at your lip.

It was so easy, everything with him just felt so good and comfortable and warmly familiar.

As if he can hear your thoughts, he presses his temple to yours so his lips are at your ear.

“It should be you,” he nearly whines. “I’ve only ever wanted you—”

The sob that bursts past your lips is so bitter and childish that even Lewis seems to notice through his haze, pulling his head back in time to catch sight of the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he grunts as he kisses the tears off of your skin. “I love you and I’m sorry.”

Just as your first moan had been, your first deep sob is captured by his mouth. Your lips are salty and you can feel from his shaking lips that he’s struggling to keep his own upset at bay.

The hand that was holding your thigh wraps around it to press a thumb against your clit, and you can’t stop the stream of babbling that follows the movement.

You can’t shut up about how much you love him and how angry you are with him and how badly you wished things were different.

“I know,” he mumbles to each admonishment and devotion you utter, his voice becoming tight as you intentionally squeeze down on him with everything that you’d got. “I know, I know, Please love me anyway, I know.”

It’s the sound of Lewis coming undone that sends you into your second orgasm, holding on for dear life as he brokenly thrusts into you a few more times before yanking himself away to spill himself onto the wall beside you- bracing his arm there as you blindly reach down to stroke him as well.

You both stand there, breathing as if you’d both just sprinted across the fields behind his house.

Using the wall as a support, you turn to face him and press your forehead to his sweaty temple, the hand of the arm against the wall moving to rest atop your head as he shudders and stills in your hand.

“Good,” you breathlessly praise him as you gently release his cock. “So fucking good….”

As you bring your hand to your mouth to suck it clean, Lewis curses lowly as his eyes follow the movement, like you’ve hurt him somehow.

Before you can reach your hand down to get more, Nix grabs your wrist and holds it in the air.

“Don’t you dare,” he whooshes out with an exhale, turning his head to kiss you deeply enough that you know he can taste himself. “I’m gonna fucking cum again if you do shit like that…”

You give him a small smile, pecking a quicker kiss on his lips.

“Didn’t think you’d be open to letting me lick it from you directly.”

His wicked smile is lazy, wrapping his arm around your waist as you make to push yourself away and twisting your bodies so he’s now the one leaning against the wall with you pressed against him.

‘Not yet,” he pleads into the crook of your neck. “Please, not just yet.”

And, because you’re a terrible and weak person, you stay.

When his fingers start to undo the buttons holding your dress together in the back, you shake your head.

“One more,” he murmurs as your dress starts to fall loose around your shoulders. “Just once more….”

Despite knowing how much you’re going to hate yourself for doing so, you nod and lower your arms so your dress pools around your feet.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Just once more.” ~ ~ ~ (HELLO I LOVE YOU AND SORRY FOR ANOTHER SERIES WHEN I HAVE ONLY EVER ACTUALLY FINISHED ONE BUT THIS IS WHO I AM AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT THEN I AGREE WITH YOU, TBH)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

also let me know if you want to be added to le taglist bc i am a silly lily who will forget unless i’m constantly reminded

also also here’s the dress i used for reference bc what are outfits

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #lewis nixon x reader #problematicfavesareproblematic

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aclosetfan · 3 years

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And Np

(ask game)

haha dude you’re like my new best friend now lmao thanks so much for being interested enough to ask about my dumb ideas!

Eight is titled “Artistic Aspirations” which isn’t a creative title at all. It’s another multi-chapter, no powers au, blues fic!! Personally, I think it's too safe and boring to write. The story spans a few years; I’ve shortened the outline to make it readable, but it still ended up being too long, sorry.

Background on the girls at the start of the story:

Bubbles is 21 and a broke, struggling artist finishing/right out of undergrad. Lives in Cityville. she’s on the verge of having to crawl home to her family with her tail between her legs

BC is 23 and finishing her physical therapy program in Townsville. Still lives with the Professor, but she practically lives full time at her boyfriend's place. She’s semi-neurotic about her relationship, not because it’s unstable, but b/c she thinks it’s too good to be true. Butch, for what it’s worth, doesn’t blink an eye—just a chill dude in this one. VERY into BC.

Blossom is 25 and starting her law career. Lives on the East Coast, working for a successful firm. Would like to move back home at one point, but she hasn’t really had the “right” reason to.

Plot (under the cut!)

It opens with Bubbles at a diner waiting for her sisters at their regular booth. Life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like she had hoped. At the diner, Buttercup announces that she and her long-term boyfriend are finally engaged! Bubbles has met Butch plenty of time as well as Brick, Butch’s older brother, but she has yet to meet his youngest brother. In fact, Bubbles doesn’t even know his name. Butch just affectionately refers to him as “my dumbass little brother,” which Brick (a defense lawyer here in Townsville) wholeheartedly agrees with. Butch has also said “he’s into all that artsy stuff like you. Draws and shit.”

Until they finally meet at the wedding

He wasn’t there for the wedding rehearsal because his flight was delayed—he was somewhere “fancy” according to Butch b/c of some “art thing, idk, he’ll be here.” “He better be!” Cries HIM, who is one of Butch’s dads, but Bubbles doesn’t really know how exactly b/c everyone is adamant that HIM and Mojo (their other eccentric father) have never once been in a relationship

So when Bubs finally meets the brother she’s walking down the aisle with, she—a person who has an undergrad degree in art (haven’t decided what kind yet lol)—is like WAIT BOOMER JOJO THE BOOMER JOJO?!?! He’s like, “lol sup” and she loses her mind because Butch’s dumbass little brother doesn’t just “draw and shit,” he’s actually an art world prodigy, who despite being very young and very alive, is considered very renowned in major art circles.

(Not Banksy per se, but he’s like one of those Bad Boy artists that would make other artists roll their eyes) (also a man of many projects but doesn’t have the follow-through for a lot of them—which if he wasn’t so good at the stuff he actually finishes, would bite him in the ass; he’s flaky, gets bored easily).

Bubbles is amazed she hasn’t made the connection between the brothers and Boomer just laughs.

There’s, quite predictably, an instant connection between the blues. Butch, who cares for his sister-in-law, is like “Bubs don’t date my brother. He’s not mature enough to be dating anyone.” And Bubbles doesn’t listen!! Because she’s desperate for love and this could also mean she’s finally getting her big break!! Their relationship is really intense and Boomer does end up getting her a nice cushy job at some indie gaming company that he’s dipping his toes in. But just a quick as the flame is lit, it goes out. Boomer gets bored, Bubbles’ art isn’t being taken seriously, and she ends up getting fired for creative differences. Fired and despondent, she gets her break-up text from Boomer the next day. The day after that, he’s dating a model.

Absolutely crushed, Bubbles packs up her bags, leaves his apartment, and moves back in with the Professor. Butch and Buttercup (and Brick—but he’s at work) are ready to kick ass. Bubbles though would rather forget about it and holes up in her childhood bedroom. Eventually, BC gets her out of the room, brings her to Butch and her’s home, and is like “listen I know you’re heartbroken, but ima need you to do something for me—“ and Bubbles is like omg srsly?? Right now?? And BC is like “I need a mural on that wall, something cutesy, ya kno a stork or something?” And Bubbles is about to snap but then, she's like WAIT A STORK!!! And a new baby on the way really brings Bubbles out of her stupor—it gets her painting again. (Bubbles is full of love and you can’t tell me she doesn’t love babies)

So the mural is a hit at the baby shower and Robin (longtime best friend, also pregnant), is like Bubbles please paint me one, and her partner Princess is like MONEY IS NO OBJECT IF ROBIN WANTS IT SHE GETS IT. And then, subsequently, Robin’s (and Princess’s) mural takes off in the rich, white lady community, and soon enough Bubbles is being commissioned for more than just Baby Murals. Princess goes around bragging that she was the one who “discovered her,” and becomes Bubbles' “business agent.”

Basically, Bubbles is on the rise. As opposed to Boomer, who is on the fall. He’s hit an art block. It’s really bad. His melancholy is really bad. Very much plays the “woe is me" card. Hasn’t been back to Townsville in a while, so when his nephew (who he’s met briefly over facetime lol) turns one, he decides to fly in for his birthday.

Plans to mope and bum off his brothers for a bit, but is shocked to see Bubbles, who he then realizes he shouldn’t be so shocked to see. Has a ream “this was a mistake, she’ll make scene” moment, but Bubbles greets him as if nothing between them had ever happened (LIKE A QUEEN). Boomer takes this personally. Then Boomer meets Princess, who gloats about Bubbles, and then, looks at the award-winning boy and goes, “so anyway, who are you again?”

This pisses Boomer off even more and then, over the course of the week he stays with the greens, this anger builds up. He eventually takes it out on Bubbles, like, “you wouldn’t be who you are without me.”

[cue that one blinking gif] Bubbles goes off. Boomer storms off. Romance is in the air.

[well I guess the reds are hitting it off, but that’s c-plot and who cares]

Princess isn’t privy to this growing resentment and only sees an Opportunity™. She reaches out to Boomer’s agent. Then, she reaches out to a museum, and is like “I’ve got the most BITCHING exhibit for you.” Then, she tells Bubbles about the gig she booked for her.

Bubbles and Boomer are like no way am I doing a collab with them. Boomer’s agent is like “chief ima be real with you, it’s this or nothing.” Princess looks at Bubbles and tells her to suck it up. So, they end up working together, which means Boomer is back in Townsville.

Cue lovers to enemies to friends back to lovers speedrun. Hello yes.

Because they’re forced to collaborate, because Bubbles is more confident, and because Boomer has been knocked down a peg or two, they actually (finally) get to know each other on a personal level. And being closer to family helps Boomer, in some ways, mature. It’s a whole connecting back to your roots “ive grown and im better now” character development for Boomer.

Ends ambiguous ;) but it's happy.

#ppg blues #ppg fic outline #my writing #outline ask game #this one is boring #but it is cute to think about #i guess the theme is growing up in your twenties #which is really hard ngl #read more under the cut #if you think it's not boring :) thank you

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armpit-of-orion · 4 years

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if u want to I’d love to hear some of ur hcs of beej interacting w charles and delia cause their dynamic gives me life and they’re his PARENTS

for sure! thanks for asking!

(also guys check my tag “beetlejuice headcanons” for more of my headcanons and feel free to ask for more!)

this got long as fuck, so I’m putting in a cut.

also p.s. “Amanita” is pronounced “am-uh-NY-tuh.”

okay so maybe Charles and Emily always wanted a big family, but they had difficulty conceiving and it was hard enough for them to have Lydia, so they sort of gave up on the idea of a big family. so Charles doesn’t mind (read: is thrilled) when Beetlejuice sort of slides into their family.

Delia’s also always wanted to have a family; a spouse and as many kids as they could support. but her life didn’t seem to be heading in that direction, and by the time she hit forty she’d figured that her hope to have a big family was gone. so like Charles, it really isn’t unwelcome when her new family starts to grow.

now, it’s true that two kids doesn’t usually count as a “big family.” however, it’s also true that it does count as a “big family” when one of those kids is Beetlejuice.

(to be clear, Beetlejuice isn’t a child; in human terms, he’s in his early thirties. so when I talk about a parent-child relationship here, I mean parent-adult!child relationship. it’s more father/mother figure than just father/mother. just thought I should make this point clear since I ship him with the Maitlands, which would be not be okay if I was portraying BJ as in his teens/early twenties or something.)

Beetlejuice starts to see Charles as a father figure before he starts to see Delia as a mother figure.

that’s because he first sees Lydia as his sister, and he tries to relate to the people around him the way Lydia does. since Lydia doesn’t really see Delia as a mother figure (she starts to later, but not right away!), BJ doesn’t see Delia as a mother figure at first either.

BUT since Lydia only sees Charles as “Dad,” that’s exactly how BJ sees him too!

(I mean Lydia has known Delia, Adam, and Barbara as people other than her parents, but Charles has only ever been “Dad” to her, and it’s hard to see your parents as being actual people, not just your parents, especially when you’re young.)

Charles panics a little at the realization that he’s somehow adopted a demon who’s at least twenty times older than he is, and that panic manifests as him trying to engage Beej in traditional father-son bonding activities.

the fishing trip doesn’t go well, as Charles wasn’t aware that Beetlejuice does Not Like water, and it hadn’t occurred to Beetlejuice that fishing might involve him being near water.

they try to play catch, except Beetlejuice misunderstood the point of the game, so when Charles tosses him a baseball, Beetlejuice opens his mouth and somehow manages to swallow the ball whole. Charles is too disturbed by whatever the fuck that was to try again.

but! they figure out that they like going on walks in the woods together! Charles likes to try to identify the plants and wildlife they see, and it’s a good way for Beetlejuice to get some fun snacks.

Charles is (mostly) used to seeing BJ eat random bugs, but on one walk he sees Beetlejuice pop a couple of wild mushrooms into his mouth, and all Charles’s logic flies out the window for a moment.

he starts yelling at Beetlejuice to spit them out, and in his shock and confusion, Beetlejuice does the opposite.

Charles is in the process of dragging Beetlejuice home and has started to dial 911 before Beetlejuice can even react.

“Whoa, Chuck, what are you doing?”

“That looked like one of the deadly Amanita mushrooms. They’re extremely toxic; we have to get you to the hospital right—”

“Uh, Chuck? I’m dead. Those angalida—”

“Amanita.”

“—indochina mushrooms aren’t gonna make me more dead.”

“…oh.”

Beetlejuice makes fun of Charles for forgetting that he’s, y’know, dead, but he’s secretly touched that Charles cares about him enough to panic like that.

and Delia! Beetlejuice starts to see her as a mother figure before Lydia does.

(actually, Delia being all “mom” around Beetlejuice helps Lydia warm up to the idea of Delia being a mother figure to her, too!)

they both have a ton of self-esteem issues, but they work on that together!

also they do spa days! sometimes Lydia joins in, but it’s usually a mother-son bonding thing. they do foot soaks and homemade face masks. Delia always has to make extra face mask …goop? (idk what to call it) because BJ will eat it. he likes the ones with honey best!

they talk a lot about stuff! Delia’s awesome to talk about sex with because she’s so nonjudgemental and open. once Beetlejuice stops trying to shock her or make her uncomfortable they actually have pretty deep conversations, and she helps him develop a healthier attitude about sex.

Delia starts teaching him how to meditate! it’s really hard— especially when you have ADHD— but it’s also really helpful and rewarding as long as you keep at it! and Delia never gets mad about how long it takes or about how BJ struggles to sit still or keep quiet for just ten seconds. she doesn’t give up, and after a couple months of five minute sessions he’s actually able to meditate a little!

also Beetlejuice makes her a necklace! (the Maitlands had a jewelry-making phase.) it’s the ugliest thing ever and Delia adores it, and she actually manages to make it work with some of her outfits. (she’s that good.)

during the weekdays, while Lydia’s at school and Charles is at work, Beetlejuice usually spends time with the Maitlands. but if Delia’s home, BJ will follow Delia around the house (like how my family’s dog follows my mom around lol). most of the time he doesn’t even try to distract her or engage her; he just wants to be in her presence! (once Lydia gets home though, he’ll leave Delia in favor of following Lydia around.)

Delia quickly becomes someone Beetlejuice goes to for comfort or emotional support. Lydia, bless her heart, does her best, but she’s not the most emotionally mature person (she’s fifteen! that’s okay!) and she has plenty of her own problems too, and BJ recognizes this and turns to Delia as a result. Delia’s hugs are awesome and help him forget about Juno.

in conclusion Charles and Delia are Beetlejuice’s parents and they love and support each other thank you and goodnight.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice headcanons #charles and delia are bj's parents #charles deetz #delia deetz #lydia deetz #charles as bj’s father figure gives me LIFE #mine

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rippedjeansandloudmusic · 5 years

Text

im the daughter of an identical twin and heres the tea

Im not a twin. None of my siblings r a twin. The whole twin-parent-twin-kids shit aint true. This is backed up by the fact that in my mom's family every other generation had a twin, and my mom never had any.

They were crazy close before my mom met my father. like, total ride or dies. my mom debated breaking up w my father because he was so fuckin close to my uncle they were constantly around one another

My uncle, when he was young, had an intense brain injury that made it so he was almost brain dead. Ever since that not only does he look nothing like my father (idk why that is they have the same dna but they look nothing alike) but they couldnt be more different. If they werent twins i have no doubt they wouldve fuckin hated each other

Even though they arent attached at the hip anymore, theyre still so fucking close. I dont see it much but my mom talks about how they never go a day without talking.

When my parents got engaged, my uncle fucking raced to get married first. He sorta wanted to make it obvious that he didnt need my father, that he was somehow better than my mom, too, and he was mature. None of these were true, but hes insane so

I also technically have 2 dads and 1 mom, if you think about it genetically. If i took a dna test a'la mourey theyd both be my dad. Crazy.

(My mom says after one convo w my uncle that theyd know she hated him too much to have a kid with him, though. Tea.)

I dont think they have that esp shit??? My mom doesnt, either, but apparently they show up to events wearing the same clothes a lot. Like, they went to a dinner w family a few weeks ago and my dad showed up in khaki slacks and a cranberry polo, and when they saw my uncle he was wearing the exact same fuckin thing my mom lost her shit.

(Dad and uncle: accidentally wear the same thing my mom: didnt u grow out of this shit jesus christ)

My mom hates my uncle, and my uncle hates my mom. My mom doesnt like my uncle mostly because hes an asshole to her (because he is), and i think he doesnt like my mom because she took my dad away from him.

When my parents got married it became obvious that my dad's level of importance was this: my mom, me, my siblings, then my uncle. My uncle's list, though, always had my dads name at the top in bold font. Im not sure how this affected their relationship, but theyre still ride or dies, just with a lot less die.

My dad has been in the same monogamous relationship for roughly 17 years. My uncle has been through 5 marriages, the longest of which is the one he's currently in, 2 years strong.

They co-own a business, and my uncle basically stole a fuckton of money (like close to a million bucks) to make a house in southern kentucky on a river with a boat and shit. Hes still in debt to my dad. After living in this house for roughly 8 years he sold it because his new wife wanted to move.

He sold the house. That spent a million bucks to build. Fucking hell, man

Theyre both shit parents. Not in the way that they dont love their kids (my uncle doesnt have any kids but his ex-wives have) but in the way that their dad was so shit that they dont know how.

Theyre the youngest of 5 boys, and all of their older siblings arent the best. The only stable person is my dad, saying as he's never been divorced and actually cares for his kids.

I'm the oldest of 4 kids, and it seems like both my dad and my uncle want to have a semi-okay relationship with me, even though my uncle still doesn't like me too much saying as im a reminder how my dad 'left him'.

They both seem to have a white knight complex, too. That may be specific to them but yeah.

If you look at the big parts of their lives and/or personalities, theyre nearly indentical. Its only when you get into the details just a bit smaller than 'assholes' or 'educated white men', you see their lives are a lot more different than you'd believe.

U want any more info hit me up. Im not a genius but i do have some insight

#twins #esp #telepathy

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anamorph-marco · 5 years

Text

A question:

Has anyone else in the world read both the Leandros brother series and also watched Voltron? I had an idea for a vld fanfic and associated art that would put the Voltron characters in the place of the Leandros’s series characters but like... I feel like I am the only person who would read it. Especially since the Leandros series ended with the final book Everwar never being officially published (as far as I’ve been able to find.) And VLD had 3 massive fan exodus’s from declines in show quality following seasons 5, 7, and 8 and intermittent steady fall off from the massive amount of fandom wank that made the fandom one of the most notoriously toxic on the internet for the past 2 years. I just don’t know if anyone other than myself has read/engaged with both series. not to mention I only have about 17 followers anymore that aren’t porn bots inactive. and I appreciate you all. Oh well. I’ll tag this and see if anything happens welcome if you’ve never met me before please interact and tell me what you think :3 ____________ What I’ve got so far: Cal (Caliban) is an emo edgelord who is very good with most weapons He is also only half human. As he is half monster/demon-elf His much older half brother Niko who is an even better fighter and swordsman than Caliban is. And is mature beyond his years from trauma and raising Cal on his own. So there's Keith and Shiro There's the Vampire mistress Promise Nightingale who was a nurse in several wars and is very rich. She’s Niko’s love interest in the Leandros’s series and this doesn’t exactly track 1:1, so I’m wondering if I made her binary flux, and had her have two names, Allura and Adam, then that would cover Shallura, and Shadam, both are ships that I still very much enjoy. anyways, Allura The illustrious Robin Goodfellow/Puck who is a satyr but only sometimes. And he is a playboy tease Aka a loverboy. But also next to Niko he is the most capable fighter and often complete with Cal for most kills. Lance Rafferty and his brother. The werewolf alchemist and medic who are the most knowledgeable of how to treat magical injuries and the bodies of monsterkind. But they are also a very temperamental asshole who doesn’t like being interrupted. Also Rafferty’s brother is trapped as a wolf. And he spends his free-time trying to find a way to change him back. Pidge and Matt Ishaiah the literal angel. Who is in love with Robin. And they were a thing back during Pompeii. But Robin fell in love with a girl. And then... well yeah. So they work together but their relationship is tense with a lot of bad blood built on top of old good bonds. Hunk... kinda (it’s close enough) And then there’s the werewolf chick that Cal ends up dating for several books who is basically a... “black-rom” (don’t @ me, it fits) type of deal even tho he has feelings foe her. James Coran can be the ancient bartender that knows who Promise is and keeps her secret that Ishaiah works for. Boom... That basically wrote itself (more or less) So I guess this would be a Jaith, Lunk, Shallura/Shadam fic? with maybe some crossover as they form their relationships? but it would probably stay mostly gen? idk It’s a complicated mess and would have to be pretty flexible as it was worked through.

#vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #cal leandros #leandros brothers #cal leandros series #cal and niko #nightlife #madhouse #deathwish #lance #lunk #jaith #shadam #shallura #long post

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rivetgoth · 5 years

Note

Any hot takes on 2001 maniacs (field of screams) that you'd like to share with us mere mortals

Oh I have… so fucking many. Whenever people ask me for 2001 Maniacs headcanons with no specifics I just get lost cuz I SERIOUSLY… DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START LIKE YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE EXTENT OF TIME I’VE SPENT THINKING ABOUT 2001 MANIACS………

I’ve been thinking about the timeline of Harper’s life and specifically his struggle with sexuality & shit, the way I see it Ogre kinda implies that his version of Harper seen in Field of Screams is supposed to sort of be an older/more mature version of Giuseppe Andrews’ Harper, kind of combining Giuseppe’s Harper with Stanley Dyrector’s Harper in the original 1964 but like… added homosexuality (and for the record Ogre’s Harper is SO fucking similar to Stanley Dyrector’s Harper, I rewatched the original Two Thousand Maniacs! a few weeks ago and I seriously had forgotten how strong the parallel is, much more than Giuseppe Andrews’ Harper imo - And this makes sense, cuz Ogre said he grew up with the original Two Thousand Maniacs and even remembers when he saw it for the first time as a kid LMAO). So the way I kinda see it is that Giuseppe Andrews’ Harper is a reflection of what “our” Harper was like when he was a kid. Since Giuseppe is considerably younger than Nivek anyway.

Assuming Harper is around Ogre’s real age at the time of filming, which was 46, Harper woulda been born in the late 1810s, for time period context.So I think when Harper was younger, like in his teens into his 20s, he was seriously like, the town black sheep and just so fucking notoriously rebellious, just the worst troublemaker and specifically ladykiller who just flirted with and fucked EVERY girl in town. He’s always loved death, he’s always been a freak, in the comic he was demanding Pleasant Valley go to war before the massacre even happens and is even the one who first fought back against the soldiers who were causing trouble by straight up murdering one by ripping his heart out (again, BEFORE the massacre). I think Harper’s response to being gay in the ultra conservative Deep South of the 1800s was just to repress it and instead go after as many women as possible, and to channel a lot of his feewings into like, murdering animals and stuff cuz he really had no fucking healthy outlet at all for everything he had pent up over the years.

But there had to be, like, an in-between from that Harper and the Harper we see in Field of Screams, and I think the massacre definitely did a number on his mental state but I think there had to be a transition before that to the slightly more respectable, much more charismatic and mature Harper we see in Field of Screams, who’s clearly admired by even the highest ranking members of Pleasant Valley (B- Buckman…). I have this whole headcanon for that that I’ve shared before where I basically think that Harper and Milk Maiden were engaged for awhile… I think that they were really good fwiends and fuckbuddies and like, on and off dating and they were “coworkers” since Milk Maiden would screw around with Harper while he was doing doctor bullshit, and Harper really does genuinely love spending time with Milk Maiden and they have a lot of shared interests (murder) and everyone ever agrees that Milk Maiden is like the sexiest woman ever, so Harper was kinda hoping that it’d get rid of his ~homosexual urges~ if he settled down with Milk Maiden, and in kind of a panic he proposed to her and they got engaged and everyone in Pleasant Valley was soooo happy and just going on about how PERFECT Milk Maiden and Harper were for each other and how Harper was SO LUCKY!!!! and Harper was like kind of terrified cuz as the wedding grew closer he was just. So not feeling it. But he tried to keep his chin up and stay positive!!!1111!!!1 telling himself that this would like finally make him normal :))

And of course being how they are neither of them were waiting till after marriage to fuck LOL and I think one night Milk Maiden just confronted Harper and was like… “We don’t … have to get married. You realize that right.” And Harper fucking panicked and was like WHWHWH AT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHAT?? WHAT??? WHAT???? and Milk Maiden basically like fucking told him that she… knows… If a man isn’t interested in her. And she’s like “I know men well enough to know that if a man isn’t interested in me then he’s not interested in women at all. Harper.” and Harper just vehemently denied that but after relaxing a little bit he did like finally admit that he… maybe wasn’t… ready to settle down yet after all :) And there wasn’t really any bad blood between em because Milk Maiden would much rather not be tied down to someone who isn’t interested in her anyway cuz that means she’s free to just fuck men who actually are into her, so they found a way to kinda call off the engagement in a way that didn’t raise questions and they continued to be good friends / murder buddies / friends with benefits (Ogre said that they still get off together to murder even though Harper doesn’t like having sex with her which is .. I’m not even dissecting that now but that’s what he SAID) so things ended well overall, but it was also a REALLY BIG SCARY TURNING POINT for Harper because, well. It kinda hits him that he was literally in the perfect position to be married to the most beautiful sought after woman in Pleasant Valley who he himself genuinely adores and likes spending time with but… it wasn’t… enough. To make him feel normal XDD and he still has no fucking interest in women at all. So it was… kind of. really horrific for Harper too.

And I really like this scenario, I’ve given a lot of thought to it cuz not only do I think it creates more depth to Harper and Milk Maiden’s relationship but I think it also really paints them both as… like… adults. It reminds you that they’re adults and that Harper has even come close to straight up marriage and been engaged and all that and idk it’s… good, I like it.

BUT YEAH I FEEL LIKE THAT KINDA SOBERS HARPER UP A LOT AND HE’S FORCED TO REALLY FACE HOW FUCKED UP HE IS and that was .. BEFORE the massacre. After the massacre things go even more downhill, I kind envision that it was the night of the massacre that made Buckman really come to love and admire Harper and see him as a real second in command, because in the comic, after Buckman was murdered that night Harper took over and tried to lead the people of Pleasant Valley away to defend themselves from the soldiers. So Harper took over for Buck and I feel like that really created a bond between Harper and Buckman (they were on good terms before though too, Harper most likely was the one who helped Granny give birth to the kids and I HC that Harper is their godfather but yeah) that obviously “is stronger than death” LOL, but that’s kind of miserable for Harper sometimes cuz it means not only does he have to deal with the misery of being fucking dead and cursed and all that but on top of that after repressing his stupid feelings forever his biggest crush of all time is suddenly constantly complimenting him and depending on him and gushing about how smart and loyal he is and Harper is like. Burning inside.

And. Speaking of. Burning Inside…. Ministry. Industrial music. Harper canonically (according to Tim Sullivan in the audio commentary) saw Trent Reznor and/or Marilyn Manson and fell in love and wanted to be just like them and steal their looks (a joke about how Trent and Manson stole Ogre’s looks LOL), which is supposedly why Harper as we see him in Field of Screams is decked out in piercings, black middle part, industrial band tattoos (you can definitely see Ogre’s Process tattoo in multiple shots, for example), etc. That woulda prolly been in the mid-early 90s, when Trent and Manson toured together and Trent had his iconic 90s goth middle part (in fact, they toured together with the band PIG, also very Harper-core for obvious reasons, for the Self Destruct Tour in 1994, IN LATE APRIL, and there was no concert the day of April 22, 1994… or was there?). Industrial music is the gayest music genre as you all should know, and a great place for self expression for stupid gay idiots who love death and blood, so… really really good outlet for Harper :) He’s like over 100 years old and just head over fucking heels for Trent Reznor to cope with being closeted in the Deep South for the last century which is… so… fucking unreal. Hey pig yeah you hey pig piggy pig pig pig!!

So yeah :))))))) Gay rights! -Harper Alexander

#2001 maniacs #ask #soft hooting #anonymous

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voilafandomonium-blog · 7 years

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The Best Worst Proposal

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine Pairing: Jake/Amy Rating: General/Teen (nothing explicit, or particularly mature. This is pure fluff) Disclaimer: Obviously I own none of the characters etc. Also, this is my first B99 fanfic, so beware (??). All mistakes are mine (feel free to point any out - I welcome constructive criticism/feedback).

Summary: It’s been a long week for Amy, and the last thing she expects is for Jake to pull an elaborate hoax to celebrate one of their anniversaries - and it’s not even an anniversary they’ve really celebrated before. But, because she loves him, she puts up with it (and in the end, it’s totally worth it).

Amy was exhausted after following up leads for almost a week concerning what seemed to be a low-level drug dealer. But after this many dead-ends, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was potentially more complex than she originally thought. Well, imagining that it was more complex was better than the alternative—that she missed something.

She entered the bullpen close to midnight, focused on how else she could approach the case. Case file in hand, she reread all available information. She just needed a new perspective, and potentially a new binder. She could organize all her leads and maybe she’d get that new perspective she needed.

“Five, four, three, two, one…”

Confused, Amy looked up to see Jake finish counting down before turning on celebratory music. Various members of the squad shot confetti into the air and began dancing in place with Jake before he slid forward on one knee. He only stopped when he was kneeling in front of her with a familiar red velvet jewelry box in his hand. It brought on an intense sense of déjà vu, but also made her heart stutter in anticipation.

Is this- could this be- no. He wouldn’t- her mind was struggling to process what was happening. All she could think was that her hair was probably a mess, and her makeup was probably smudged and everyone was looking at them, and Jake still wasn’t speaking. This was not how she had imagined (or planned) on being proposed to—if that was what this was! There was no evidence that Jake was proposing after three years of dating. Except the kneeling. And the ring box. And his smile. Oh God.

“Amy Santiago, you have made me the happiest man on earth for the past three years. I spent a liiiiiiiitle bit more than one whole dollar on this ring. In honor of our anniversary of the best worst date ever, will you go out with me again tomorrow? You have to say yes.” He paused, wrinkling his nose. “Except not really. Because you have equal say in this relationship. Obviously. And I know you’ve got that one case that just isn’t working out. But I checked your calendar before setting all this up. Whaddya say?”

Amy felt like laughing (and crying, but that wasn’t the point). Jake wasn’t proposing. She was so stupid. All that worrying (and excitement and giddiness, shut up) for nothing. He was just being a dork and trying to celebrate one of their anniversaries.

“Ames?”

“Oh! Of course. I can’t wait to celebrate the best worst date ever with you.” She says, unable to hold back the giggle at the back of her throat.

Jake looked at her a little oddly at the giggle before sliding the ring on her finger—her left ring finger, not that it was important.

“Promise to keep it on, Ames? This one took a few tries to get, and I’ll be crushed—nay, devastated—if you lose it.” He requested with a goofy grin, holding her hand tightly. The goofy grin though...was it a little strained at the edges?

Before Amy could examine it more closely, Jake’s face shifted into his normal dopey look. Accepting that the ring was part of whatever scheme he had brewing for their date (it brought to mind a few other dates he had planned that were met with only moderate success—like the roller-skating incident) Amy nodded. “Sure, babe.”

Finally getting up to both feet, Jake grinned enthusiastically. “Thanks. You’re the best Ames.”

“I know.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly before grabbing her bag. “You ready to head home?”

“Yep. Just gotta put a few files away.” He waved three casefiles at her before jogging over to the records room. Amy contemplated following him (they’ve had some good times in that room) before deciding that it would require far too much energy. Falling into her chair, she began reorganizing her drawers while waiting.

She’s only made it through her top drawer when Jake reappeared. Putting on her coat and swinging her purse over her shoulder, she accepted Jake’s hand and waved goodbye to the rest of the squad.

With the familiarity of Jake’s conversation washing over her, the difficulty of her current case prodding the back of her mind and the exhaustion of a long day finally setting in, there was barely any room left in her mind to notice that the ring felt a little heavier than the one from five years ago.

Amy is nothing if not conscientious, but the ring that she told Jake she would keep on created some problems in her regular routines. She couldn’t shower with it, and had to remember to put it back on in the morning (after she had forgotten to put it on last night, after washing her face, Jake had complained—he was really serious about her keeping it on, for whatever reason). It got caught in her hair a few times as she ran her fingers through her hair after waking up, and it pulled at a loose thread in her pajama top as she was changing. But, Amy kept the ring on, because she told Jake she would (and Jake had put up with her and worn the matching sweaters she thought would be so cute on Thanksgiving. The least she could do was wear this stupid ring even if it made her heart beat a little funny).

She only had to tell two people that she wasn’t actually engaged. The first was her barista, Lauren. Lauren was their ‘regular’ barista, and Amy would almost consider her a friend. Almost. Upon seeing the ring, Lauren had squealed and attracted the attention of a few customers and her coworkers.

“Jake finally popped the question?” Lauren was grinning. “Lemme see that ring!”

Ignoring the embarrassment (God, it was so similar to the actual worst date, when she had been so goddam embarrassed in that horrible dress. Was that Jake’s plan all along? Because if it was, she had underestimated his planning ability) and everyone’s curious faces, Amy grinned ruefully. “No. He didn’t propose. This is just a gag – celebrating one of our anniversaries.”

Lauren looked crestfallen. “Really? Too bad, it looks like a nice ring – and it suits you.”

Except for the fact that it was plastic and cubic zirconia, Amy would have agreed. It could have been a tasteful round diamond bracketed by smaller baguette diamonds in a simple setting. Something she would have chosen for herself. But Amy knew better. “If only it weren’t plastic, right? Can I have our usual?”

“Sure thing. It’ll just take a second.” Lauren accepted the debit card and ran it before gesturing Amy to the side to wait.

The second person she tried to explain it to was a well-meaning older woman, also waiting for her drink.

“I don’t understand. You’ve got the boy, and the ring, but you aren’t engaged?”

“Yes. My boyfriend has an…interesting sense of humor. He likes to celebrate things a little differently. This is a joke.”

“What kind of joke is a fake engagement?”

“It’s not a fake engagement. We just…aren’t engaged.” Amy had to physically restrain herself from saying yet. “We’re only celebrating one of our anniversaries.”

“Hmph. I just don’t understand you young people.”

Before Amy could defend her generation of young people, the woman had gathered her tea and left.

After that, she just accepted the congratulations. It was easier. Also, only like two extra people offered congratulations.

Getting to the precinct, Charles took one look at her and giggled. Amy ignored him. He was probably just imagining that the ring was real (not unlike what she was doing), and was demonstrating his overinvestment in her and Jake’s relationship. Or he was in on whatever joke Jake had planned.

Surprisingly, a few of the perps around the bullpen and in the holding cell congratulated her (their frequent flyers - ones who remembered that Jake and Amy together. Amy tried to ignore how touched she was that they cared). Someone tried to steal the ring (she got to twist the dude’s arm up behind his back like she’d seen Rosa do before), and another gave her a lead on her drug case. After a late (late, late, really late) lunch, Jake texted her about their night. He and Rosa were on a stakeout for a string of B&Es they were working.

Wear something nice tonight. Idk when I’ll be back, so ill pick you up @ home @ 8

. . .

You mean you’re not going to choose my outfit this time?

. . .

Haha, Santiago. Not tonight. Unless you can finally admit that my fashion sense is superior

. . .

Never. You forget that I’ve seen you in a speedo.

. . .

And you loved every second of it. Gtg, think the perp is here. Love you!!!!

. . .

Love you too.

Putting her phone down, she couldn’t help but be distracted by the stupid ring again. It was remarkably shiny for a gumball machine ring and reflected surprisingly well in the precinct’s harsh fluorescent lighting (just like it did in the sunlight). Avoiding the potential daydreams that she had been succumbing to more and more frequently (that involved a real diamond ring and an intimate ceremony not unlike the one she had planned for Rosa those years back), Amy went back to her paperwork. If she finished up the paperwork and logged evidence efficiently, she may be able to clock out at a reasonable time so she wouldn’t look like a total troll tonight (those were Gina’s words. Amy had made a note to look it up on UrbanDictionary. Weren’t those troll dolls supposed to be kind of cute?).

Eight o’clock found her in a blue dress, waiting for Jake to pick her up from the apartment. She was feeling oddly nostalgic for their (best) worst date, and the horrendous dress Jake had chosen. Instead of the hideous monstrosity with bow, this blue dress was actually flattering, and didn’t make her feel like she was fourteen again (or make her feel like Jake’s second choice. What was so great about Jenny Gildenhorn, anyways?).

Six minutes later, a car horn honked. Then honked again. And again, prolonged this time.

“That idiot.” Amy muttered, locking the door behind her as she rushed down the stairs. Opening the outer door, she was met by Jake, standing by the car, preparing to honk again.

“Wow, Jake. You’re really taking this…reenactment kind of far, don’t you think?”

Jake grinned before jogging over to open the passenger door for her.

“When have I ever taken things too far?” He joked. Amy gives him her patented Really? Are you kidding me, Peralta? look. “At least I’m not wearing the shorts.” He defended before closing the door behind her. Amy had to admit that she’s glad he’s not wearing the shorts—though he did dress up with a coat and tie (Amy couldn’t help but think that it was sweet that he actually took the time to think about changing for tonight before he left for work in the morning). It’s a pleasant change from the regular plaid/hoodie/jacket combo he usually wears at work (although, to be honest, she’s found herself to be quite a fan of that look too).

Closing his own door behind him, he paused to lean over and kiss her lightly on the cheek before moving in for a more intimate kiss. She smiled into it, leaning towards him and angling her head to try and take control. He grunted lightly before giving in. Too quickly, he pulled back and gave her a peck on the lips.

“You look gorgeous, Ames. Definitely should have let you dress yourself the first time.”

“Aww, where would the fun in that be, though?”

Jake laughs. “You’re right. Definitely wouldn’t have been any fun.”

The drive was spent in comfortable conversation. Amy critiques Jake’s driving while he cracks jokes. Intermittently, they discuss a few of their open cases. Amy hasn’t brought up her troublesome one yet, wanting to let it sit in her mind a little longer before bringing it up to Jake. Without realizing it, she’s apparently developed the habit of spinning the ring around her finger. The habit only came to her attention when Jake reached out to hold her hand halfway through their drive (offhandedly, she thought about how it would be a bitch to quit the habit, once she took the ring off).

After they’ve parked, she realizes they’re at Shaw’s. “Just like the actual date?” She asked him, walking into the bar still holding Jake’s hand. All Jake could do was nod and grin (is that a bashful grin?) before they’re met by almost the entire precinct. The night started like any other night after work—drinks with the squad, stories about best/worst perps, teasing Boyle and a few harmless bets. It didn’t feel like anything special (not that it had to, Amy would spend time with Jake however she can). But it shifted when Jake asked her to dance.

She still wasn’t the best dancer (unlike Jake—though she still hadn’t learned where he gained that particular talent), but she has undoubtedly improved over the years. “I swear to God, Peralta, if you’re going to try and make me dance that jig from The Titanic, I will murder you in your sleep.” She threatened. It was still unclear how far Jake is going to take them down memory lane.

“Nah, not tonight. Figured we could just sway a bit. That’s something you can handle, right?”

Rolling her eyes, Amy purposely stepped on Jake’s foot. The bastard just laughed before unexpectedly forcing her into a turn. She betrayed herself by laughing. Their planned swaying quickly evolved (devolved? Amy’s not sure exactly how to classify it) into poorly executed dips and twirls. But she and Jake were laughing the whole time, and it never occurred to her to chastise him for being a goof. It’s part of why she loves him, after all. And really, it felt remarkably romantic.

By the time the crowd has changed over to the drunker and/or late night party types, they’re saying their goodbyes and putting on coats in preparation for, as Jake called it, ‘Part 2 of the most amazingly awful best worst date in the history of ever.’

Amy barely had time to complain about the length of his name before they’re stepping out of the car again. The neighborhood wasn’t the greatest and she couldn’t see anything that looked like a place you would take someone on a date. Suddenly, she realized exactly where they are.

“Oh my god, Jake. Seriously? The building from our stakeout?” Amy was a little ashamed that her voice comes out more affectionate than she had planned. This was not what she would call an occasion to dress nice.

“Gotta do this right.” Jake says. For a split second his face showed shock before morphing into a forced look of humor. “Even brought some peanuts, ‘cuz you know I get snacky.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “How are we supposed to get into the building?”

“Through the door. Duh.”

Confused, Amy watched as he unlocked the front door and gestured her through. The last time they were here after hours they had to sneak in. Walking up the stairs, Amy can’t help but wonder how Jake got a key—how much planning had he put into this (subpar, if she’s being honest) date? The only thing it really has going for it is Jake, who usually finds ways to make all her days better. While it’s been fun to reminisce, part of her would have rather just stayed in and watched Property Brothers or something.

On the roof, she sat on a crate, trying to ignore the goosebumps on her legs. She admired the view (it’s not that great, actually) and waits for Jake to join her. As he sat down, he draped a blanket over her lap, successfully covering her legs and keeping her warm. A bit of her vague irritation leaks away.

“Thanks, babe.” She murmured.

“No problem. I know how cold you get. Your feet are like freezer-burned popsicles in the morning.”

“Hey! I can’t help the temperature of my feet!” she replied in fake outrage—this wasn’t a new argument.

“Socks, Amy. Socks help to keep our tootsies all toasty warm.” Jake said. “Dammit, I ruined the serious vibe I had going on. But how I could I not say ‘tootsies’ or ‘toasty warm’?”

Seeing Jake’s genuinely concerned face, Amy couldn’t help but laugh. “If you hadn’t said either, I would have been concerned.”

Seeming to accept that, Jake nodded along before tossing a peanut up in the air and catching it neatly in his mouth. “Ready, Ames?”

“Hit me.”

They spent the next few minutes tossing peanuts back and forth. Amy noted, with a fair amount of pride, that she has definitely improved since their first night on this rooftop.

Jake, however, has been doing worse and worse as the night wears on.

“You okay, Peralta? Are my stupendous skill psyching you out?” She joked, trash-talking him as he missed yet another peanut.

His eyes, which had previously been rather glazed over, quickly refocused. He gave her a quick (and rather unconvincing) grin. “Yeah, your ‘volume is key’ strategy is really psyching me out, Santiago. Here, this’ll be a high one. Ready?”

Amy nodded. “Born ready.”

Jake tossed the peanut up in the air. Amy tilted her head back, trying to follow its path. She leans back a bit…almost there.

It bounced off her forehead.

“Dammit! Peralta, that ones on you, because that was a terrible throw!” She was laughing as she said it though, sitting up straight and getting ready to throw him a peanut (she’s thinking she’ll just chuck it in the air, see if he’ll run after it like the goober he is).

But, when she’s finally totally straightened up and has her eyes open (they’d been closed before, in laughter, she thinks), Jake was in front of her. Kneeling on one knee. And looking the most serious she has ever seen him.

Everything freezes.

“Oh.”

“Amy Santiago.” He grins. A genuine, god-i-love-you grin that reached his somewhat glassy eyes. Amy’s eyes were feeling a little glassy (i.e. wet) too, to be honest.

He continued, “I wasn’t lying when I said you’ve made me the happiest man on earth for the past three years. But, years ago we went on the best worst date ever and that was the moment that I realized what you could be to me—that you could be everything. And you are. I’ve been kind of obsessed with you since then, and I can only hope that you feel a little of the same,” Jake takes a deep breath before chuckling, “because I’d be honored if you would embark on the incredibly un-boring adventure of life together-”

Without her explicit permission, a choked little giggle-sob escapes Amy’s mouth. Jake ducks his head, and matches her with a wet-sounding chuckle.

“And continue to wear that ring for the rest of your life. Because it was definitely a little more expensive than the one I gave you almost five years ago. I’ve typed this speech up, revised it an practiced it a million times - Santiago style.” He winked. “So, Amy Santiago. Will you marry me?”

Amy never thought she would be one of those girls that cried when she was proposed to—she was too logical. Besides, she never thought she would be surprised by her proposal. It would be something she and her partner discussed and agreed on (more of a contract/mutual decision, her brain supplied). But here she was, crying.

But, Amy realized, she never expected to be partners with a man like Jake Peralta. Someone who pushed her and her buttons, who made her laugh and smile and made life always seem like an adventure. Someone who made her a better person, and drove her crazy in the best way possible despite (or because of) their differences.

“Uh, Ames? Should I stand up? Are you still thinking, or…?”

“Oh god.” She hadn’t answered. “Of course. Yes, I’ll marry you Jake. I would love to. Oh my god.”

Jake just laughed, lowering his head over where he had been gripping her left hand. “Thank god. I was starting to get a little worried.” He joked with her as he pulled her up to stand with him.

Amy could see in his eyes, though, that there had been a small part of him (the part of him that always reminded him that his dad left, and thought that he wasn’t worth her love. This was also the part that Amy endeavored every day to prove wrong) that had been worried.

“I love you. So much.” She reminded him.

“I love you, so much, too.” He responds before kissing her deeply.

Their first kiss as an engaged couple her brain reminded her. She smiled, giddy at the thought. Because she was kissing her fiance. And she was wearing an engagement ring-

Abruptly, she pulled away. Jake’s eyes popped open. “Not to complain, but you kind of ruined our moment there Santiago-”

“Are you telling me that I’ve been wearing an actual engagement ring for over 24 hours, thinking that it was a cheap vending machine ring?”

“Uh…maybe?”

“What if I had lost it? Or thrown it away because I thought it was stupid? Oh my god…”

“Well, then you would have plunged me back into crushing debt, babe. But you didn’t. Just like I knew you wouldn’t. Because you owe me after the Thanksgiving sweaters. But mostly because I know you still have the actual cheap plastic one in your jewelry box.”

Amy blushed. Because he was right—that stupid, scuffed, plastic ring was sitting in her jewelry box. She had retrieved it after their fake fight. And ever since then, it had been safely tucked away.

“Besides, this’ll make a great story to tell the kids. How their mom didn’t even realize it was the real engagement ring until a day later. Some detective you are.”

Amy punched him in the shoulder, ignoring his muttered ow. “Just because you’re my fiance doesn’t mean that I won’t still kick your ass.”

Instead of responding, Jake just grinned at her dopily.

“Jake?”

“You called me your fiance.”

Amy blushed before squaring her shoulders. “Well, you are my fiance. Besides, didn’t you just reference our unborn children? When did we discuss kids?”

It was Jake’s turn to blush. “I, uh, guess we didn’t. But, I kind of assumed…which I shouldn’t have. But, well. I want to. And I hope you do-”

Amy cut him off with a kiss. “I do too. We can talk numbers later. For now…let me just enjoy kissing my fiance.”

Jake grinned before obliging her.

Less than a minute later, he pulled away. “So, I was definitely going for a romantic vibe here, but whaddya say we move it inside?”

“Oh god yes, I’m so cold.”

“Plus, I figured a bed might be nice.”

“Ooooh, I like the way you think, babe.”

Jake winked at her playfully (it was a horrible wink – his entire face scrunched up) before gathering their stuff and grabbing her hand.

Laughing and kissing the whole way down the stairs they practically fell into the car. Amy spent the entire car ride with her left hand in Jake’s right. She could feel him stroking the ring and feel the metal heating up from their joined hands.

It was only later, lying in bed with Jake (this time he was absentmindedly stroking her back, with their fingers linked on his chest) that she realized she’ll never have to take the ring off. It will stay there forever, eventually joined by a second one—one that will match the ring he will eventually wear. She could keep spinning it around her finger forever.

She could go to the coffee shop tomorrow and show Lauren the ring for real, find that woman and tell her that the engagement is real. She could accept people’s congratulations because she really is getting married. To Jake Peralta. He’ll be her husband. And she’ll be his wife.

It was to those happy thoughts that Amy Santiago fell asleep, half laying on her fiance, with a smile on her face.

I really do hope y’all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it.

#my fanfic #b99 fanfic #jake x amy #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #b99 #brooklyn nine nine

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ladyamelia-whitfield-blog · 7 years

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HELLO LOVELIES!! ;D As said in my post in the ooc blog, here’s a bio on Amelia and as I’ve also mentioned, I’m a huge plot-whore, so do come on over and IM me if y’all wanna plot a connection/anything with Amelia here or LIKE this post and I’ll come to ya instead!!~<3

So damn excited to be heree and I can’t wait to rp and get to know everyone of u soon!!:D~<3 <3

So she’s the only child ( so far for now,as idk yet whether I want her to have any older siblings or not) to the a high-ranking Duke and Duchess in Bearoria, the kingdom where she had been born in , grew up in and where she stayed & called home for many years till she was married off to a Duke in Dracborough (when she was 20)

I kinda have it that her family was always invited to the royal court whenever there was an event or function happening there or even invited to stay there a few times over the years due to her family’s position and possibly her parents being good family friends with the King and Queen.

As it was during her time spent in the royal court was when she bumped into and became friends with Emrys’s, the adopted son of the royal physician there, when she was 5 and he, 7. Their friendship grew greatly over the years and evolved into a very close one whereby they eventually even became besties.

Her personality is that of a kind, warm, calm, mature and wise lady, who's also well-mannered and socially graceful as well as keeping in with social etiquette expected of her when she's out in public but she's humble so she doesn't mind making friends with anyone of any societal ranking. And at times she may be quite compliant to her family's wishes except of course when it comes to who she makes friends with or who she chooses to help cos she simply cannot agree on her familiy's elitiist or classist views. She also knows how to speak out for others if she sees something unjust being done but she'll do it in a direct , mature way.

Eventho, she accepts the way that most of them are living in male-dominated society plus she does abide to society's protocols while conducting herself in public, she internally however, doesn’t feel that the whole situation is really fair to women but then what can she do about it ? Except to sometimes try to defend a poor helpless woman if she comes across any men abusing them. She doesn't really see women being any lesser than men in terms of intelligence and all that stuff, but she just remains calm about it and currently now as a lady she just keeps those thoughts to herself and isn't an activist or anything tho she might voice her thoughts to Emrys if he eventually tries to get all unbearable in his views of male superiority (that's when she's gonna knock some sense into him again as she has tried to do during their childhood)

Over their many years of friendship, both Emrys and her then very slowly , gradually and subconsciously fell for each other. And they both kinda realized it one day when they were each individually self-reflecting on their own but then decided to suppress those feelings as they were afraid that the other might not reciprocate those feelings. Thus, they didn’t confess to each other their romantic feels as they both didn’t want to potentially lose or risk the great friendship they had going on that time.

But then one day, early in her 20th year, she found out that her parents were going to get her married off to son of a duke (an old family friend) in another kingdom due to a couple of social/financial advantages and she became utterly dismayed and against that idea. Cos eventho she had thought of the possiblity that her parents might set her up for an arranged marriaged in the future, she kinda hoped that it would to be someone she could have a bit of romantic feelings for or at least she could potentially she herself falling for him or even the possibilty that her parents might let her have a small say in the choosing of suitors? BUT unfortunately, her now-arranged betrothed was someone she just couldn’t muster any romantic feelings for no matter how hard she had tried when they had met a few times before in the past and she had only come to tolerate him as a friendly acquaintance and nothing more.

So she tried to negotiate with her parents to not marry this guy or at least find someone else of equal stature which they felt was required but unfortunately for poor her, her parents were strongly adamant and wanted to see this particular marriage through, for their own selfish reasons. Thus, broken-hearted and helpless Amelia then felt very down as she could see herself ending up with a lifelong loveless marriage with her future husband as they had very little in common & didn’t really connect that much and plus she’s secretly quite the romantic at heart. Feeling a lil depressed , she then calls upon Emrys and asks him to come out for a night out with her in the in the city. When they were finally out in the town, she then tells him that she wants to do something impulsive and wild for once in her life and he either supports her and stay by her side tonight or just go away, as this was her last night of freedom before having to be shackled into a loveless marriage as she was shipping out tomorrow to meet her fiance & start the engagement & wedding arrangements. (this whole wedding/ quick arranged marriage ordeal is making her act a lil uncharacteristically that night XD) She then proceeds to drown her sorrows by drinking in a small inn, something she has never done before in her life(!) and pours out the story of her sudden engagement & woes about her future marriage to Emrys. While listening, he then tries to reason with her & stop her from drinking to no avail.

As a last bid-attempt, he then snatches a few pints from her and chugs them down himself. She then gets mad at him and then they struggle a lil bit while shouting at each other which included vague and heavily hinted sentences abt their romantic feels for one another They then stop struggling upon recognizing some sort of romantic/heat/sexual chemistry was happening between them atm, and they oops, slept together and have one night of unbridled pent-up passion XD And early next morning, despite feeling slightly awkward abt what had transpired between them the night before, she & he, both didn’t speak much except to quickly and say their goodbyes and she left after a tight hug.

She then only finds out some weeks later, on the eve of her wedding day, that she was pregnant with Emrys’s child! She then decides that there’s no way she can get married now because she doesn’t want to lie to her future husband that she’s pregnant with another man’s baby as well as she doesn’t want to bring terrible shame on her family name cos she def wants to raise the child lovingly & properly, so she impulsively decides to run away? Thus she leaves a letter explaining everything except for the identity of her baby daddy and scrams, but during her getaway , she accidentally gets into a very minor accident and hit her head very hard. So went she wakes up, she’s an amnesiac of some kind and her head is utterly empty of who she is and stuff? Her family then successfully finds her and selfishly decides with her groom, that they keep the secret of her being pregnant with another man’s baby from her and do their best to restore all her other memories about her life including planting a couple of fake ones like she’s currently in love with her groom and she’s having his baby as they had slept together before the wedding :P So the poor girl believes them cos really, what else is she to think?XD And thus gets married and lives with her husband in Dracborough. She then has the baby which is a girl and falls in love with her so much so her daughter is the biggest sunshine in her life rn? And then gradually over the next 5 years, she eventually gets most of her memories back except for that one night that happened between her and emrys XD . And currently her relationship with her husband is distant and def not so good cos she just can’t seem to fall in love with him eventho she tries her best and she also doesn’t like him very much as a person as he has some ugly character traits she dislikes. And he in turn, is currently pissed at her cos she doesn’t love him after all this time, he’s a lil possesive of her and despite wanting her to love him back, he’s also half-hating her for having another man’s kid and them unable to produce any kids together despite them trying sometimes. (she’s secretly dreads their time in bed together as she doesn’t love him nor feel anything for him). Plus, she’s very unhappy about the fact that he seems to dislike, or if she didn’t know any better, she would say he hates“their daughter” and is pretty cold and distant with the poor lil gurl and so Amelia just concludes that it’s probably some sexist thing he has going on that he prefers to have male heirs and probs views girls as lesser beings or something. So she’s also kinda secretly angry at him too for treating “their” daughter so.

So right now, she does remember Emrys very well as all their great friendship history, and the fact that she had (or maybe still might have? ;) ) suppressed romantic feelings for him but she just doesn’t remember that eventful night at all…yet.

I’LL TRY TO COME UP WITH A PLOTS PAGE SOON, BUT I WOULD SO LOVE TO HAVE AS MANY CONNECTIONS BETWEEN AMELIA AND ALL OF YOUR LOVELY MUSES, GUYS, SO DO HMU / LIKE THIS POST!! <3~<3

#sov.intro

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