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emilyssky · 1 year

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War Of Hearts // JJ Maybank

PAIRING: JJ Maybank! x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

GENRE(S): smut, angst, fluff, fuck buddies to lovers

WARNINGS: smut [ praise, degradation, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex, choking, slapping, spanking] , mentions of violence, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of alcohol, smoking. Jealous and protective JJ !

Author's note:Wrote this last night after finishing season 3, hope you’ll like it :)

SUMMARY:

You and JJ have been messing around for a few months now until you try to cut it off because of your growing feelings for him that you think are one sided. A series of unfortunate events bring you face to face with unexpected fear and your relationship with JJ when you get caught up in their treasure hunt.

I've always loved summer. Something about the warm weather, the sun, the ocean, and the salt on my skin made me feel alive. For the most part, I loved my life in ΟΒΧ. Some would say that I was born blessed, that I got both sides of the coin with my mom being a pogue and my dad being a kook but it feels mostly like a curse to me. My whole life I've never been fully accepted by either side. I wasn't t rich and snobby enough for the Kooks and never wild and spontaneous enough for the Pogues. It's not like I was on bad terms with anyone, everyone was friendly enough but ever since I could remember I felt left out, never having real friends. And if I'm being honest, it wasn't the kooks that I was jealous of, something about the pogue life pull me in. It seemed exciting and freeing in a way. When my mom married my dad and had me she knew that she wanted me to grow up knowing both sides. She wanted to offer me the chance to be the one to choose where I belong. She's big on following your heart and dreams and always told me growing up that I'll find my way and that if I follow my gut, the choice is gonna be pretty easy. We lived in Figure 8 but my mom opened a cafe on the south side, wanting to keep in touch with that side of her life. My life is a series of the same things over and over again. I like spending time alone, if I'm not at school or working my shift at the cafe, I'll probably be by the beach, reading or surfing. Sometimes I will go on boat rides with my dad or steal the keys and go by myself. It's not often that I will hang out with the Kooks, in fact, Sarah Cameron is probably the only person that I would voluntarily hang out with and actually enjoy it. And when it comes to the Pogues, everyone knows that it's just Kie and her boys. I'm friendly with all of them, occasionally have chat with or enjoy the waves together but that's about it.

Today is a day exactly like any other; I finished school and came straight to the cafe. It was not too crowded, with only a few regular customers enjoying their usual cup of coffee. I was behind the counter, cleaning the coffee machines, making sure everything was full and ready until I heard them. It's the group of kids that you hear before you see. John B enters first, pushing his long brown hair back as he laughs at something Pope is saying. I like John B, we share a lot in common and have nice conversations from time to time. He's a really fun and social person but this year was a rough one for him. His dad went missing almost a year ago, many people consider him dead by now but John B will not accept it, he still thinks he's alive, somewhere lost at sea. My mom and his dad were close back in the day before she met my dad and moved to figure 8. We used to play together when we were young up until he met his current best friends. My dad offered him a few jobs involving our boat and at the cafe, after Big John disappeared so I've been seeing him around more lately. Pope and Kiara follow right behind him. Me and Kie used to be close, but now our relationship has changed into a few talks here and there, I still consider her one of my closest friends though. Pope is fun. He's one of the few people that talks to me normally and always makes me feel comfortable at social events or parties. And lastly, my favourite pogue follows. JJ Maybank. Me and JJ have an interesting relationship. Teasing, flirting, bickering, that's his speciality with every girl in the Outer Banks, kook or pogue but sometimes I like to think that he actually enjoys my company. He was always the one I was looking forward to see but today he's the one I'm trying to avoid and have been trying for the past 2 weeks. His blue eyes find mine the minute he walks through the door, and a smirk spreads across his face.

"Hey, Y/n" John B greets me, reaching the counter.

"I'm not serving you free coffee." I immediately shake my head, knowing exactly what they want.

"Oh, come on." He frowns his thick brows, fake pouting.

I let a small chuckle at his attempt. "How many times do you think it will take for my mum to notice?"

"One more?" He offers, lifting his shoulders.

I scoff, shaking my head again.

"Come on, your mum loves me anyway." He presses.

"Yeah, but my dad not so much."

JJ places his elbows on the counter, right next to John B, and I immediately look down, continuing cleaning the coffee machine like I was doing before they came in.

"What if I'm the one asking?" He says, leaning in with that playful smile of his that I know all too well.

"Then it's defiantly a no." I fake a tight smile.

"Why so grumpy today princess?" He places a hand over his heart.

I roll my eyes and turn back to John B. He brings his palms together, begging me silently.

I sigh. "This is the last time." I point my finger at both of them.

"Yes!" They high-five each other.

"I'll bring it over." I wave them off.

I lift my eyes to his only for a second, catching the wink he sends my way as he follows John B to their usual table where Kie and Pope are seated.

I quickly fix up 4 iced coffees and walk over to them.

"Here you go."

"You're the best." John B touches my side lightly.

"You're coming next Saturday right?" Kie asks reaching for her coffee.

"What's next Saturday?" I question placing the last coffee on the table.

"We're throwing a party on the beach. It's gonna be fun." Pope explains.

"You're coming." JJ states without looking my way.

"I'll see." I nod at Kie with a small smile before leaving them to it. I walk back to the safety of my counter feeling his eyes burning on my back. The parties here at obx were always good. It's the one time that Kooks and Pogues can coexist in one place without jumping on each other's throats. Well, sometimes at least. It's fun nevertheless, all of us drinking and dancing by the beach forgetting our responsibilities and problems for a little while. I stay behind the counter, doing any task possible to distract myself but anytime I let my gaze fall his way, he's already looking.

"Thanks for the coffee Y/n." John B waves at me as they leave about an hour later.

"See you at the party cupcake." He brings two fingers to his forehead.

"Maybe." I shrug, walking to their table to clean up.

"You know I'll be miserable without you." He yells already out the door.

. . . .

I don't usually work on Fridays, so after school, you'll probably find me at the beach if I'm not locked in my room. I enjoy my alone time. Riding the waves, sitting under the sun with a good book, or drawing in my sketchbook. Today my mind felt a little heavier, so I took my time, and before I knew it the sun began setting. I quickly throw my bag over my shoulder and begin to make my way back, realising that it's almost dinner time. I silently curse at myself for not riding my bike to the beach cause the walk back to Figure 8 seems dreadful. My ears perk up catching the sound of a motorcycle approaching with speed and I close my eyes hoping that it's not him but when I hear the motorcycle slowing down I know that my hope is not coming true. He stops beside me and I stop walking, turning to look at him. His hair is pushed back by the wind, he's wearing a simple white t-shirt with grey cargo pants, and his face is as pretty as always. My eyes narrow a little as I spot a bruise over his right cheekbone and it doesn't take long before I spot all the different marks and scars across his face.

He still forces a smug smile on his lips, ignoring my staring. "Having an afternoon surfing session princess?"

"What happened?" My eyes can't stop studying his face.

"Oh, you know the Kooks had it coming." He shrugs, masking his face perfectly like he always does but I know better.

"JJ." I trail off, my stomach tightening knowing exactly where he got these injuries from.

His jaw tightens. "It's nothing' Y/n. Same old, same old." I shake my head, in disgust. I can't even stand the thought that his dad walks around the OBX freely. He's such a piece of shit. "Get on the bike." He nods behind him.

"It's fine, I'll walk." I tilt my chin.

He scoffs with a smirk. "When will you stop with this whole act you’re putting on?" He waves his hand around.

I change the weight from my right to my left leg, crossing my arms. "I don't know what you're talking about." I keep my face expressionless, ignoring the way his beaten face cause my heart to tighten.

His eyebrows come together and his gaze shifts, dropping the playful act. "You're ignoring me." He states.

I'm trying.

I avoided his eyes cause I know that the more I look at them the weaker I get. It happens every time, I say that I'm gonna stand my ground and then I find myself beside him regardless.

"Look," He clears his throat, eyes moving everywhere. A weird expression takes over his features and I immediately know that he feels uncomfortable. "I don't care why you're pushing me away but can you stop ignoring me for a few hours?" He struggles to speak the words and that makes me a little warm inside. I glance at his bruised face once more, remembering all the times he came to me after his fights with his father. All the long talks we would have in order to get his mind off of it or the times I would sneak him through my window to treat his injuries.

I sigh and silently climb behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I feel him chuckle. "Just so you know, we're just talking."

"Sure." I can't see his face but I bet he's grinning.

He took his time, driving aimlessly around the streets of OBX. I don't mind though, I know him enough to know that it helps him clear his head, so I stay silent resting my head against his back and enjoying the ride. The sun has set and the night breeze tingles my skin in the best way. I notice that he takes the familiar route to my house.

"Are your parents home?" He yells, looking behind his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think."

"We'll have to be quiet then." He clicks his tongue.

"Like that has stopped you before." I smile against his shoulder.

"True." He glances at me again, the corners of his mouth lifting.

He parks his bike a block down from my house and he walks quietly around the back while I go from the front door.

"Hey, honey." My mom yells from the kitchen at the sound of the door opening.

"Hey, mom." I enter the kitchen, sneaking my arms around her waist while she chops some cucumbers, preparing a salad for dinner.

"Dinner will be ready soon." She smiles.

"Oh, I'm not hungry, I already ate." I brush her off, walking to the fridge.

"It smells amazing dear." My dad enters the kitchen, dropping his keys on the kitchen table.

My mom flashes a smile at my dad before turning back to me. "When did you eat?"

"I hung out with Kie by the beach and we had some sandwiches." I quickly make up an excuse, grabbing a water bottle and closing the fridge.

"Just Kiara?" My dad lifts an eyebrow.

"Yes dad," I sigh.

"Honey." My mom scolds him.

"What?" He lifts his shoulders. "I'm sorry that I don't want my daughter hanging around boys that smoke weed, get drunk, and steal shit on the daily."

"Mark." She glares at him.

"They're not stealing anything, dad." I narrow my eyes, sick of him attacking them all the time. "They're not like that, you don't know them."

"Well, some of them are." He continues and I know exactly who he's referring to.

"You're wrong" I shake my head, lifting my hands. " and you're not gonna tell me who I can and can't hang out with." I walk past him shooting him a glare and head up the stairs.

"Y/n." I hear my mom yell but I ignore her and hurry into my room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

JJ's shoulder is rest against the open window, arms crossed in front of him with an unreadable expression. I drop my gaze to the floor, walking to sit on my bed and placing the bottle on my nightstand, feeling a little ashamed for the way my dad spoke about him and his friends.

"I'm sorry for my dad." I feel the need to say.

He moves to sit next to me, forcing a tight smile on his lips. "It's fine, we all know his opinion about the south side."

I move my head, trying to get a better look at him. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah princess you don't have to worry about me." The nickname tugs at my heart almost as much as his smile.

I reach to touch his hair, pushing them back and toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck. "You know you can talk to me."

His eyes twitch with suppressed emotion, his jaw set with eyebrows frowned. "I know." I offer him a small smile, not moving my hand. "Can you, like, talk to me?" He asks. His eyes are screaming even though he manages to keep his expression under control. "I want you to take my mind off things, just talk to me about anything." His tone is almost begging.

I bring my knees to my chest, wrap my arms around them and turn to face him. 'What do you wanna know about this time? My weird obsession with serial killer documentaries, my views on feminism, or if I put the milk or cereal first?"

His face breaks into the first real smile today and I feel a little proud. He shakes his head lightly, his eyes not leaving mine before he pulls me by the neck, smashing his lips to mine. It's like all the pain he carries and all the words he desperately wants to say are spoken by the way he moves his lips hungrily against mine. The softness of his mouth contrasts his rough breathing as his hands hold my face, pulling me closer to him. His small groan that echoes through the room and the feeling of his tongue brushing over mine snaps me back to reality.

"Jay," I whimper, pushing at his chest lightly.

His lips leave mine but our foreheads stay together. "I'm sorry." He mumbles, inhaling short, sharp breaths.

My fingers trace his bruises and my stomach twists even at the thought of how his dad created them. I hate how he grew up having to hide all this pain and I hate how he's being treated. "I don't want you to go back to him tonight." I whisper and his eyes snap to mine. "Stay with me."

His face finally breaks, and the emotion in his eyes overtakes his whole expression.

"But we're just sleeping," I lean back, pointing my finger at him. "and you'll have to leave before my parents wake up."

His eyes water a bit but a grin paints his lips as he wraps his arms around me, pushing me back to the bed.

A giggle escapes me. Damn him.

. . . . . . . .

"I'm going with Topper." Sarah touches up her already perfect makeup.

"Ugh." I groan. "What do you even see in him?" I scrunch up my nose. Sarah is the only kook that I can stand to hang out with. And the only Cameron I actually like.

"He's nice." She rolls her eyes at me, holding up two dresses, one yellow and one blue. "Stop being a bitch to him. Which one?"

I tilt my head." The yellow one obviously."

"What are you wearing?" She questions while peeling off her clothes and changing into the short yellow dress.

"I don't know if I want to go." I lay back down on her king-size bed.

"Come on, you love parties. Is it that you don't wanna go or that you don't wanna see a certain someone?" She wiggles her brows at me.

"I'm just not in the mood." I shrug, looking away but she sees right through me.

"Yeah right." She chuckles. "Cut the shit and get dressed." She throws a black shirt on me.

. . . . .

The beach is full of people, kooks, and pogues dancing, drinking, and having fun. Big barrels of beer everywhere, stands with bottles of alcohol and hundreds of red cups here and there. It's not even midnight and everyone is already wasted. Most of the girls are in their bikinis by now, dancing like there's no tomorrow on top of giant rocks. The minute we enter the party, I go straight for the beer, pouring myself a cup. My eyes silently search the crowd for any sight of his fluffy, blonde hair, or of any of his friends. I spot Kie and Pope taking shots with a few other people and John B just a few meters again, flirting with a blonde girl but he's nowhere to be found.

"Looking for someone?" Rafe says close to my ear, catching me off guard and making me flinch away. He smiles at my reaction.

"What are you doing here?" He's one of the people that rarely joins things like this. He and his friends really don't get along with the pogues, unlike me and Sarah. I try my best to limit my contact with Rafe, Topper, and the rest of their little group but somehow they find a way to be right in my face.

"Enjoying the free alcohol." He lifts the cup to his lips, hiding his smile. "What are you doing here?"

I take a sip of my beer. "I came with Sarah."

He nods, eyeing me up and down. "You look gorgeous as always."

I roll my eyes at his compliment. "Thanks."

"You know," He leans in closer. "you're always cold towards us but when it comes to these pogues you're a fucking angel. Why is that?"

I sigh out loud, not really in the mood to deal with his whining. "Cause I can. " I offer him a smile before walking away, blending in with the dancing crowd.

It didn't take more than 4 cups of alcohol, to find myself dancing between a few half-naked girls, that are probably as drunk as I am. My body has a mind of its own as I swing my hips to the beat of some '00 song. I lost sight of Sarah half an hour ago when she disappeared with Topper, and I joined Kie and Pope and took a few shots before throwing myself between the sweaty bodies, pretending that the fact that JJ is still nowhere to be found does not affect me at all. He's a known player around the Obx, sleeping around, flirting his way through, breaking hearts left and right and I've had my fair share of it. But the game he's playing is a dangerous one, and I'm trying to protect myself the best way I can.

"Shots!." John B yells, throwing his hands in the air, holding a bottle of tequila in his right one. A few girls extend their cups for him to pour them some but I've probably dropped mine while dancing cause it's not between my fingers anymore.

I tap on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hit me!" I yell over the music and open my mouth wide.

"Let's go!" He yells pouring a shot straight into my mouth. The alcohol drips down my chin as I try to swallow, my eyes watering at the process.

"Another one." John B says and taps my chin waiting for me to open my mouth again and I do. All eyes are suddenly on us, everyone is cheering and yelling as I shallow my fourth shot in a row and I feel two hands grabbing me by the legs and lifting me higher. I throw my hands in the air, laughing as the people around me scream louder. My mind is somewhere else, and I let the carefree feeling and numbness that comes with alcohol overtake me. Until I open my eyes. I sober up in a second when my eyes find his. His on top of a rock, smoking with a few other people. A girl leans in towards him, her hand wrapping around him as she laughs at something Pope said but he stays unbothered, his eyes still on me as he lifts his cup my way with a nod and a smile. I nod back not knowing what to do before turning back to the girls I was dancing with. I continue moving to the music but my mind isn't letting me shake him off. Suddenly, the alcohol feels heavy in my stomach and the sound of my heartbeat is louder than the music in my ears. My hand flies to my mouth as I run out of the dancing crowd and as far away as I can from the people before dropping to my knees and vomiting in a bag full of used cups. I feel two hands reaching for my hair as all the alcohol that I consumed leaves my system.

"It's okay, I got you." I hear Rafe's voice over the music that has faded a bit due to the distance. "Here" He hands me a napkin.

"Thank you." I cough out, taking the napkin, and bringing it to my lips.

"Hold on, let me bring you some water."

I wipe my mouth and drop the napkin inside the trash bag.

"Here." He pushes a cup of water into my hand, tugging my hair behind my ear as I take a few sips of the water slowly. "Stop drinking so much Y/n, Jesus."

"I'm okay." I rise to my feet.

"Come on," His hand wraps around my waist. "let's take you home yeah?" He starts pulling me towards the other side of the beach.

"I don't think she's going anywhere with you Cameron." My head snaps to the right, hearing Rafe scoff at the sight of JJ. JJ's eyes twitch when they fall on me, his eyebrows coming together.

"I don't think you have a saying in what she does pogue." Rafe's hands drop from my body as he takes a step forward.

JJ's expression shifts in a second when he moves his eyes from me to Rafe, a smile spreading over his lips. "Oh I think I do," He takes a step forward as well. "And she's not going anywhere with you." His voice drops a little.

"I suggest you take a step back." Rafe doesn't back down.

JJ's eyes darken. "Or what?" He takes yet another step. "Last time I checked you're still nipping at her heels and following her around in case she pities you and gives you a chance."

Rafe lets out a growl, pushing JJ backwards but he just laughs mockingly, knowing he hit a nerve but that angers Rafe more.

I step between them before Rafe can make another move. "Stop acting like five-year-olds." I look at both of them, but they ignore me, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Hey," My hand touches Rafe's chest, forcing his eyes away from JJ. "go back to the party, I'll let you know when I'm ready to leave." I lie, knowing that it's the only way to make him walk away without creating a scene cause trying to make JJ drop this would be even harder. Rafe's eyes narrow, flickering back to JJ. I reach for his hand, softening my tone. "I'll find you." I nod, trying to reassure him.

He nods back, letting out a sigh. "Turn him down kindly babe." He says, knocking JJ's shoulder with his as he walks out.

JJ's eyes are fixated on me. "You'll let him know when you're ready to leave huh?" He says when Rafe's far enough.

"Maybe." I play along, shrugging my shoulders.

His tongue comes out to wet his pink lips, hands resting on his hips as he takes a step towards me. "Is that so?"

"Last time I checked I can go home with anyone I want." I cross my arms, trying not to let my gaze drop to his lips.

"We both know that I would never let that happen." His voice drops, his tone raspier.

"Why JJ?" I tilt my head upwards due to our height difference but that doesn't stop me from taking a step forward as well, only leaving a few inches between us.

His fingers wrap around my neck, catching me off guard. "Come on now princess, let's not play dumb." He smirks.

"I'm not playing dumb. Actually, I'm done playing." I wrap my hand around his wrist, pulling it away from my neck.

Something flashes over his eyes but doesn't stay for long. "Trust me, I'm done playing as well." He mumbles before cupping my jaw with both hands, not letting me escape and in a split second his lips crush into mine. My breath hitches as the taste of weed and beer coats my tongue but I'd be lying if I say that I haven't missed it. It's been a week since the last time I kissed him and since then I've tried to keep myself at a distance, knowing that the more I let this go on the more invested I become, and knowing JJ, it will not end up well If I do. He lets out a low moan as his tongue enters my mouth, colliding passionately with mine. My fingers grab his shirt for support, my body suddenly overwhelmed by the familiar knot in my stomach that begins to build.

"Fuck, I missed you baby." He breaks the kiss, allowing me to take a much-needed breath. I dare to lift my eyes, looking up at him through my eyelashes, only to find him looking hungrily down at me. His hands travel from my jaw, down to the curve of my waist and he pulls my body to his. "You kept me waiting for so long." He breathes out, resting his forehead on mine.

"JJ" My tone begging and warning at the same time. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"You can not name a single good reason for us not to." He says, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

"I can name a few."

His hands drop to my ass and in a swift move, he lifts me off the ground forcing my legs to wrap around his waist. "I'd rather hear other sound out of that pretty mouth of yours." He starts walking away from the party, keeping his hands secure under my thighs and crashing his lips to mine once again. He makes sure we're far enough from the crowd and behind plenty of trees and bushes before stopping and dropping me carefully on the sand. He breaks the kiss, straightening his body and reaching to peel off his white long-sleeve shirt.

"You look fucking amazing tonight." He doesn't break eye contact. "I was hard from the minute I saw you walk in." He leans back down, his eyes roaming over my body as if he hasn't seen it in ages.

My hands reach for the ends of my shirt, pulling it over my head. "Fuck." He dives hungrily into my naked chest. Sucking, nibbling, and biting. He squeezes my boobs between his palms, rolling his tongue over my nipples, making them harder by the second. His wet lips slide down my stomach teasingly as his fingers toy with the button of my shorts before finally unbuttoning it. He drags it down my legs, leaving me in my black panties, exposed and ready for him. Somehow I always find myself in this position as much as I'm trying to avoid it but the sight of him desperately fumbling with his belt as his eyes devour my body is one that I'll never get enough of.

I lift myself onto my knees, lowering my body so I'm facing his crotch. I pull down his shorts along with his boxers freeing his already hard member. A small moan escapes my lips at the sight, my mouth watering. His thumb and index finger reach for my jaw, tilting my head to meet his dark gaze.

"I want your eyes on me as you choke on my dick, okay princess?" He says and I'm aflame from head to toe. He takes his dick in his other hand, pumping it a few times before dragging the tip across my lips, coating them with his leaking precum. I keep my eyes locked on his wild blue ones as I take him in my mouth.

"Fuck" He curses under his breath as I twirl my tongue around the tip. I replace his hand with mine, taking him deeper, the size of him weighing on my tongue. I relax my jaw, allowing almost his whole member to enter my mouth. His hands fist my hair while his hips begin to thrust forward, lightly fucking himself in my mouth.

"You're so fucking good at this baby." He praises me. "Look at you choking on it, that's it." I force myself to breathe through my nose while saliva starts dripping from my mouth down to my chin. He fastens his pace only for a few seconds before, pulling my head sharply back by my hair, his dick dropping from my mouth as I gasp for air.

He groans out loud. "I missed this."

His words sink in as much as I try not to let them. It's always 'I missed this' and never 'I missed you.'

He connects our lips again, tasting himself while he pushes me down on my back. His fingers run over my clothed pussy, and that's enough to make my back arch, silently begging him for more. My body responds to him in ways that I can't explain or control. Just a touch and he has me already panting. He pulls my underwear to the side opening my folds with his middle finger.

"Ugh." I gasp.

"Shit baby, you're already dripping." He whispers satisfied against my lips. His mouth falls to the curve of my neck, sucking on my skin as his fingers begin to rub circles over my clit making tiny moans escape me. Unexpectedly, he slides two fingers inside me, quickly building a fast pace.

"Oh, my god." I shut my eyes, pleasure creeping into my lower belly.

"You respond to me so well princess." He kisses me, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth. His fingers pump in and out of me, making my breath shorter as the pleasure builds.

"God Jay, I'm gonna-" The words die in my throat and the flicker of his thumb on my clit sends me unexpectedly over the edge. My orgasm rushes over me like a wave, my body going numb for a few seconds, gasps and moans leaving my lips.

"That's it baby, ride it out." His pace slows down a bit before pulling his fingers out. He leaves wet kisses along my jaw, making my eyes fly open.

"I want more. " My tone begging with no embarrassment.

A grin overtakes his lips, his eyes shining under the dim light of the moon. "I want you on your hands and knees. " He demands.

My body moves on its own, and before my mind can catch up I'm on all four, my ass on display in front of him. He runs his palms over the skin before slapping sharply my right ass-cheek.

I gasp, flinching forward. "That's for flirting with Rafe."

"I wasn't flirting with-"

Another slap.

"And that's for ignoring me for a week." He growls. I stay silent as he pulls my underwear to the side again. He strokes my pussy with the head of his dick, dragging it up and down my slit, teasing me.

"JJ please," I whine desperately.

He leans down bringing his lips beside my ear. "Say you're sorry for ignoring me."

I swallow the last bit of pride that's left in me, understanding that my need for him is too big, and knowing that his ego is hurt, I do as he says. "I'm sorry for ignoring, I'm sorry."

"You want me?" He presses, his tone dripping with enjoyment.

"Yes, I want you so bad, please." I push my ass backwards.

He lets out a low chuckle and I hear him rip open a condom, seconds later his head presses against my entrance and slides in slowly. We both let out a groan at the feeling. God, I missed this too.

"Ready?" He asks breathlessly after a few seconds.

I nod my head, allowing him to move his hips. He grabs a full fist of my hair while his other hand stays on the curve of my ass before he pulls out and slams back in.

I immediately gasp when he begins to thrust inside me building a fast and steady rhythm.

"God, you're so fucking tight." He groans. The sound of skin on skin fills the air and my breaths begin to come out short as I arch my back. His dick feels too good inside me, almost heavenly. The way he moves, the sounds he makes, I've missed everything.

"Fuck it's so good." I brokenly moan. His balls begin to hit perfectly at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to my second orgasm. His grip on my hair tightens and pants of air mixed with low growls leave his mouth. I'm struggling to keep my body up as a fucks me harder than ever before and the fire in my belly grows.

"I'm not gonna last long." He mumbles in my ear but the pleasure between my legs is too much, my muscles burn and I squeeze my eyes shut as I let my second orgasm wash over me, euphoria spreading at every inch of my body. My legs begin to shake the sensation too intense as he fucks me through the last of it. His thrusts become sloppier, his nails digging into the flesh of my ass.

He falls forward and I feel his heartbeat on my back. "Fuck, Y/n." He lets an animistic growl in my ear, his body stilling completely as he empties himself inside the condom. Drops of sweat fall from the tips of his blonde hair on my shoulder, while both he and I catch out breaths. After almost a minute he plants a kiss on my back before pulling out slowly. The feeling of emptiness creeps in, alongside with the embarrassment and the realisation of what just happened. I hear him pulling the condom out and throwing it somewhere, while I stay almost frozen. Now that everything is done, I can't find the strength to face him. I lift myself to my feet, my legs still a little weak but I ignore it reaching for my shorts and putting them back on. I keep my back to him and my head low as reach for my top. The sound of his belt lets me know that he doing the same. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. He holds up my shirt between his fingers.

"Thanks." My voice falters. I pull the shirt over my head and run my fingers through my tangled hair. I feel his eyes on me, burning at the side of my head. I build up all the courage that I can master and turn my gaze to him and it takes one second to regrade it. He stands there, fully dressed, his blonde hair a mess, looking at me with those eyes. Those big, blue eyes that I've grown so used to over the last few months, staring at me with so much softness, analysing. Suddenly, my body is fighting a wave of emotions.

"What?" I ask, my tone almost a whisper.

He clenches and unclenches his jaw, his eyes saying so much but his mouth, not a single word. "I'm taking you home." He states before turning around and walking away back towards the party. I don't fight him, I simply follow him to his bike. Both of us know exactly what's going on, I know he understands what I'm trying to do but he doesn't seem to understand why and I don't bother explaining. I know him. I know how he is, I know how he reacts. I know who he is and who I am. I keep my hands tight around his waist as we make the short way towards my house on his bike. I try to enjoy these last few moments with him. It's always stolen moments like these. On his bike, on the beach, hidden in John B's van, silently in my room, or in my dad's boat. And that's not enough.

It's been days since I last saw him. He left me home, with a small nod and a goodnight and I haven't seen him since then. Truth be told, I haven't worked at the cafe at all, claiming to my mother that I have a lot of homework, which is partly true. I've been distracting myself as much as I can with school and studying. Tonight is no different, I'm sitting comfortably in my bed working on my homework for Monday.

"That's it, I'm done with this boy." My dad's yelling interrupts me, catching my attention.

"Honey please, he's going through a rough time." My mom tries to calm him down. "Let me talk to Y/n, maybe she knows something."

"She better not, she shouldn't be hanging out with these boys in the first place." I hear a door slam. I have heard my dad this angry in a long time, but usually, it is always about the same things; either me sneaking around and breaking his house rules or something to do with the pogues. My dad loves my mom and accepts her for who she is but he doesn't get why she still wants to have ties with the south side and most importantly why she wants me to grow up knowing both sides. But what are they fighting about now? What boy?

A soft knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts. "Come in."

My mom opens the door slowly., entering my room. "Hey, honey." She closes the door behind her.

"What's going on mom? Why is dad yelling?" I ask her right away.

She lets out a sigh and approaches my bed, taking a seat. "Y/n have you talked to John B at all?"

My eyebrows twitch. "Um, no not really, why?"

She doesn't appear mad unlike the way my dad sounded a few seconds ago, instead, her face falls at my answer. "Are you sure? Have you talked to Kiara or the other boys?"

I shake my head, her questions confusing me more. "No mum, why?"

"Apparently the keys to the boat are nowhere to be found." She finally explains.

"And you think Jonh B stole them?" I lift both my brows. "Mom, come on, I mean I would expect something like this from dad but not from you."

"No, no" My mom shakes her head, reaching for my hand. "No, honey. You know what I think of him, I care about John B, I've known him since he was a child. I wouldn't mind if he took the key and had fun on the boat with his friends for a few days but you know how your dad gets."

"It's always the pogues' fault." I roll my eyes.

"Please talk to him, " She nods. "I would hate for him to lose his job because of something like this. Just ask if he took them."

I nod back. "Fine, I will."

"Thanks, honey." She places a kiss on my forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight mom." I hold my smile until she closes the door. Why would John B take the keys to our boat? He knows that if he simply asked me or my mom we would let him borrow it. This doesn't seem like something he would do but then again, the only people that have access to the boat are me, my parents, and him. I reach for my phone and call John B but the phone rings and rings with no answer. I try a few more times, before trying Kie and Pope, but no luck. I stare at his number for a few seconds before pressing call, mentally preparing myself to listen to his voice after so long but just like the rest of them, he doesn't pick up.

"What the hell? Why is none answering?" .

I decided to go by the chateau after my morning shift at the cafe. I prepare myself and go over the things I'll say if by chance JJ's there as well but I stop in my tracks when an unfamiliar van comes into view packed outside the house. Sounds of glass breaking, things being thrown around, and doors slamming can be heard as I move closer to the house. I push myself behind a big tree, narrowing my eyes, trying to peer through the open window, when 2 men come into view. Big, muscular, and scary looking. Fear begins to spread through my body.

"You better not be in there boy!" One of them yells as they both throw themselves to a closed door, trying to open it. They kick and punch at the old wooden door as it slowly begins to crumble. Suddenly I see the window on the side of the house opening, and a body quickly forcing its way out of it. He turns around and I immediately recognise Pope's face. Kie follows shortly after with John B right behind them. They begin to run my way as I stay frozen, completely shocked by what's happening right in front of me. Pope's eyes lock with mine, his face taken over by a scared expression probably mirroring mine.

"Guys." He yells in a whispering tone and everyone's heads snap my way. JJ is the last to jump out the window, running behind his friends.

His eyes fall on me, eyes widening. "No, no, no." He mumbles as they all reach me. "No, not now." He grabs my arm just when a gunshot echoes through the area. I gasp, my body numbing with fear as JJ drags me along with them, my eyes not leaving the house as the 2 guys open the door and burst into the room that they guys came out of. JJ pulls me inside the small chicken coop closing the small door behind us. I bring my hand to cover my mouth, my fingers trembling. I look around taking in all of their scared faces. "W-what-" I try to say.

"What are you doing here?" JJ angrily whispers, pulling me by the arm to face him but I don't react.

"JJ now is not the time." Kie snaps at him, fear written all over her face as well. The chickens begin to make noise, yet nothing reaches me. "Do something. " She nods towards the chickens.

"Like what? Pet them?" Pope jokes while trying not to panic.

JJ reaches over taking the chicken in his hands and squeezing his little neck until it eventually stops breathing. I try to take deep breaths but my eyes stay locked on the house as the men get inside the car and drive off. Kiara takes my hand in her, tears wetting her cheeks.

"I think it's clear." John B says. "Come on." He steps out of the coop, Pope and Kiara following him.

JJ moves in front of me, stepping out as well. He extends his hand for me to take. My trembling fingers wrap around it, allowing him to pull me out.

"What are you here?" He repeats. His eyes look at me still panicked, moving around my face almost fanatically. His hands come up to my face, pushing hair away.

"I.." I try to form a sentence but my mouth is dry. "I was looking f-for John B."

"God." He runs his fingers through his hair, moving around.

"I thought we were going to die." Kie breathes out, holding her hand over her chest. Pope moves to her side and pulls her into a side hug.

"What just happened?" I say still trying to catch my own breath. "Who are they? What did they want?"

John B looks at his friends, and I know that he's silently asking them if he can tell me. He walks towards me. "Hey, I'm sorry you had to see that." He pulls me to his chest.

"Are you in trouble?" I look up at him. "you know that my mom will help you with anything. Just tell me."

"Y/n-"

"You don't have to know everything." JJ says, his hands crossed in front of him, his face suddenly cold.

I move my eyes to him, confused by his tone and sudden energy shift.

"JJ.." Kiara sends him a careful glare.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Um," I mumble, my eyes still fixated on JJ. "did you take the keys to our boat?"

He closes his eyes, cursing under his breath. "Yeah," he looks at his friends again, all of them looking at me apologetically. What the hell is going on? I'm used to not being involved in pretty much anything when it comes to them, but this is not a joke.

I narrow my eyes at all of them, shaking my head. "Can anyone please explain to me what the fuck just happened?"

"Look Y/n-" Pope takes a step forward but JJ cuts him off, placing a hand on his chest.

"No, she doesn't need to know."

"What's wrong with you?" Anger overtakes my tone. He's acting like an asshole right now. "Do you realise what just happened JJ? Those guys had a gun."

"I know that Y/n." He clenches his jaw, walking back towards me. "but it doesn't involve you, so just go back to figure 8 cause last time I checked that's where you belong." He gets closer to my face and I feel my whole body stiffens at his cruel words. "Stop trying to be a pogue."

I tighten the muscles on my face, not wanting to let the tears leave my eyes but the unexpected anger overtakes my body and my hand moves across his face, slapping him hard. His face freezes, staying to the right. He has never spoken to me like that. He has never acted this way towards me and I hate it.

"Fuck you dude." I spit, shaking my head. I turn to John B. "Give me the keys." I don't care why they took them and I don't wanna know what happened anymore, I just wanna go home.

"Y/n.." He gives an apologetic look.

"Give. me. the. keys." My tone is sharp as I open my palm in front of him.

He lets out a sigh before dropping them in my palm. I put them in my pocket, not saying a word to him, and turn around.

"Y/n, let me come with you." Kie offers.

"I'd rather not." I say getting inside my car and slamming the door shut. I pull out without waiting for any of them to try and stop me and drive off, letting the tears finally fall. Tears of fear, tears of anger, and tears of hurt. He was right; I desperately wanted to be one of them my whole life but that wasn't the reason why I asked. I don't give a shit what they were doing and how they ended up in a situation like that, but it was serious. It wasn't fun and games, those guys weren't joking around and I care about them. All of them. If they're in trouble I want to help them as much as I can. My mom would understand them and she would do anything to help cause she's a pogue. But I'm not. I'm not and they'll never see me as one. They'll never trust me enough. He'll never let me get close. I know how it is and I thought that I had accepted it but clearly I was wrong cause it hurts.

. . . .

It's been 2 days and yet I'm still on edge. I still look over my shoulder every 5 seconds, and I still flinch over any slightly loud noise. I've been zoning out constantly, my mind travelling back to that day and his words. It still hurts, the way he talked to me but it was the reality check that I needed. Maybe it's time to actually stop and move on.

I wipe the last of the tables getting ready to close the cafe. The sun is setting and I can't wait to go home and relax after a long day. I move to the counter, grabbing my stuff and making sure everything is closed and in order when I hear the 'ding' the door makes when it opens.

"I'm sorry we're closed-" I turn around coming face to face with the 2 men that broke into John B's house.

Their faces hold the same smug expression, satisfied with the clear shock that overtakes my whole body. "We're not here for coffee." One of them says, his voice raspy and low.

My feet move backwards until my back hits the front of the counter. "I-I can't help you then." I shutter.

"Oh but you can," He smirks. "you can deliver a message to John B for us." I shake my head repeatedly, my chest heavy as I try to breathe. He grabs me by the arm, his fingertips digging painfully into my skin while the other finds my neck, choking me.

"And since words won't do it for them, maybe this will. "The other one says, nodding to his partner with a smirk. The guy releases me and before I have time to catch my breath, his hand slaps me across the face so hard that it sends me to the ground.

"Ugh." It takes me a few seconds for my sense to return, my head heavy with pain and my skin burning. He grabs me by the shirt, forcing me upwards only to bring his hand across my face again. I yell in pain, tears streaming down my face as the taste of blood fills my mouth. My eyes struggle to focus.

He stands straight, looking down at me. "P-Please stop." I beg but he stays unphased, kicking me right in the stomach. Pain spreads through my body, my knees coming to my chest as I cough violently. He kicks me again, and again, his boot finding my face at some point and I scream until there's no strength in me to make noise anymore. The tears won't stop and breathing gets harder by the second.

"Tell your friend that he better give us the compass or else he's next. "He pulls my head up by my hair causing me to whine in pain. He gives me one last evil smirk before slamming it back on the wooden floor and walking away without a second glance at my aching body, his partner following.

I sob violently at this point, trying to keep my head focused and my eyes open but they're getting heavier and heavier, the world starting to spin. I don't know how long I stayed on the floor in and out of consciousness but when I heard my name being yelled my eyes snapped open.

John B kneels by my side. "Oh my god Y/n, what happened?" He says, his voice full of panic. His hands' ghost over my body not knowing where to touch me as he scans the injuries.

I don't reply but a broken sob escapes me.

"It's okay, it's gonna be okay." He slides his hands carefully under my body, my face twitching with pain. He takes me in his arms and walks out of the cafe. "It's okay, you're safe, I got you." he murmurs against my head. He lays me down on the back seat of the twinkie before hopping in on the driver's seat. His hands move fast, his eyes wild, looking back at me every 2 seconds as he drives.

"What happened?" He whispers. "W-who did this?"

I keep my eyes close and try to control my breathing but the pain is too much. "T-those men" The words that leave my mouth are barely audible but he catches them.

His hands tighten around the wheel, before punching it. He looks back at me anger written all over his face, his eyes almost watering. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Y/n. It's all my fault."

"The compass.." I drag out, causing him to look back at me with wide eyes but everything fades again.

I feel his hands on me again. He takes me in his arms. "We're here." He whispers and I bury my face in his neck. I recognise his house immediately. He takes big steps almost running trying to hold me without causing me pain.

He reaches the house. "Guys!." he yells. "Help!"

"Oh my god, Y/n," Kie cries out rushing to us.

"What happened?" Pope tries to help John B carry me to the couch.

"Y/n." It's his voice that makes my eyes finally open and it's the look on his face when he sees me that hurts more that the pain in my body. A single sharp breath leaves his mouth before he's by my side as John B places me on the couch. I let out a small whine.

"What happened?" He whispers, dropping to his knees beside me. "What happened?!" He yells turning to John B who has his hands buried in his hair, pacing around the room. Kie appears back in the room with a first aid kit.

"Those men, the 2 men that broke in, jumped on her. " He answers.

"What?" Pope says. "Why would they do that to her? How do they even know her?"

"It's the boat, idiots." Kie angrily says passing some ice to JJ. "They saw us jumping inside it to escape them."

"Baby," JJ presses the ice to my cheek, with trembling hands. I can already feel different parts of my body brushing. His other hand comes to my head, brushing my hair back. "Baby, I'm sorry." He places his lips against my forehead. His lips tremble, and he shakes his head, eyes wide full of fear and anger. "You're gonna be okay, I'm here yeah? I'm not leaving you again." He whispers, his voice breaking.

Kie appears next to us. "Jay, let me take care of her." She touches his shoulder. "She needs help and rest."

JJ leaves one last kiss on the side of my face before getting up. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."I hear him growl before he and the boys move further into the house. Kie cleans up all my wounds and takes care of the cuts that I had on my face.

"Get some rest okay?" She smiles a sad smile at me.

"Thanks, Kie." I mumbled before drifting off.

. . . . . .

I shiver, the sudden cold air that hits my exposed skin forces my eyes open, waking me up from my slumber. The living room is dark, not a single person is here except me. I try to lift my body into a seating position, and a sharp but lighter pain spreads around my stomach and back causing me to whine.

I hear a groan from my left and I turn to find JJ's sleeping body laying on the floor. His closed eyes twitch before opening. It takes a few seconds for him to react but when he sees me awake his body shoots up, hands stretching towards my body.

"Y/n," He breathes. "hey."

I rub my eyes with the back of my hands. "What time is it?"

"Um," His hands fumble with his phone. "It's almost 3 am. You fell asleep"

"Hmm," I hum, lifting myself into a seating position. "My parents-"

"Kiara texted them from your phone that you're gonna stay at hers tonight." He says. "Take it easy." He touches my back softly. A sad expression overtakes his face when he sees me struggling to straighten my back.

"Y/n.." He shakes his head and I know exactly what he's going to say.

"It's okay, it's fine." I reassure him. JJ tends to hold a lot of guilt inside. He thinks that he's responsible for anything that happens. It seems like he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders when there's really no need.

"No, it's not." He shakes his hand repeatedly. "It's not. I can't stand seeing you hurt because of me. You did nothing wrong, it shouldn't have happened like this." His eyes drop to his hands that are resting on my thighs.

"It's not your fault." I place my hand on top of his.

"But it is. We stole your boat to escape, they saw that. And then I acted like a dick refusing to tell you anything in order to protect you and keep you out of it when in the end it's you who got hurt." His voice is filled with guilt and anger.

"Protect me from what?" I scoff. "What's going on Jay?"

His eyes soften at the nickname but he stays quiet.

"Why don't you trust me?" I mumble, mostly to myself.

"I do trust you." He defends.

"Just not enough right?" I smile a little.

He closes his eyes. "Y/n, you know it's not like that. You know me."

"Apparently I don't JJ." I raise my tone a little. "I mean I thought I did, I wanted to. I was patient and I was understanding. I listened to you and I was there. As much as you would let me at least." I go on, and all the words that I was holding inside come rushing out. "The JJ I know would not talk to me like that, the JJ I know would not disappear for days, the JJ I know would not keep secrets from me."

"Y/n-" He tries to interrupt me.

"No, I get it, I know my place. " I hold a hand up between us. "I know we're not together but I care JJ. " I admit looking at him dead in the eye. His face falls at my words, jaw tightening. "I liked it when you would climb through my window and we would talk for hours about all the things you guys had done that day and I liked it when I would sneak out after midnight and go on bike rides with you. I liked how we would surf together or how we would lay on my rooftop, looking at the stars talking about all the things we want in life. You were the one that was pushing me to join you in all kinds of things, you would always tell me that I was a pogue deep down." Tears threaten to spill but I try to contain them.

"You were the one that pushed me away," He point a finger towards me. "Since day one, since the first day we fucked, you never wanted me."

"JJ," I lift my hands to my hair, struggling to control my anger. "I was trying to protect myself!"

"For what?" He shoots back, his frustration building as well.

"From you!" His shoulders fall. "I wanted you, I've always wanted you but I know you." I sigh, studying his beautiful, blue eyes that are piercing mine. "I know better than to let myself fall and believe that this is more than it is." I say quietly.

He tilts his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "I tried to stay away from you because I couldn't stand to hold you and know that you aren't mine. Every time I would look at your face, I would see nothing but walls. We would have sex and then you would go back to being cold and wanting to be as far away from me as possible and I honestly get it, people like me don't deserve people like you."

I shake my head in disbelief. "How can you say that?"

"Cause it's true." He chuckles sadly. "Look at you and look at me." He motions between us.

"Stop." I close my eyes, unable to stand the way he views himself, I wish he could see how extraordinary he actually is.

"Y/n, I know." His gaze hardens. "But when John B walked through that door with you almost unconscious in his arms. Your body and face brushed and beaten," He twitches his face as if the image brushes through his mind and physically hurts him. "I lost it. My heart dropped. Nothing mattered but making sure that you were okay and holding you in my arms. The thought that something like that had happened to you," He shakes his head, reaching to take my jaw in his hands gently. "I can't fucking stand it. And I swear to you that I will search the whole island for these motherfuckers and I'll fucking kill them for laying a finger on you." He leans forward, his forehead inches away from mine.

A small smile creeps on my lips at his words, my heart warming instantly.

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day, all I wanted was to protect you and I'm sorry for disappearing on you. I'm sorry about all the lying and the secrets and I'm sorry I can't be what you need and deserve." His eyes move all over my face while his thumbs move gently over my cheekbones.

I bite my lip. "JJ, you're all I want. You're more than enough." I say with my whole heart, wanting nothing more than for him to see himself the way I do. "You're the most incredible person I know and it hurts me that don't see it."

"I don't deserve you." He whispers, his lips ghosting over mine. His breath becomes my breath.

"Shut up." I smile crushing my lips to his. It doesn't take more than a second for him to react, moving his mouth against mine, inhaling sharply as if I'm oxygen. I let out a low moan as JJ's lips started nibbling at mine, demanding entrance that I'm all too happy to grant. It's ridiculous how much I've missed him, the taste of his lips is enough to make all the pain disappear. Everything fades away as our tongues collide, teasing and testing each other. My hands travel to his hair, tugging lightly while he holds my waist carefully. I push myself forwards, sucking on his bottom lip before capturing it between my teeth. I can feel him holding back, he digs his fingers into my skin and releases a sharp breath.

"Y/n," He lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss.

My frustration builds more with each second passing, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on me. I need to feel him. "What?" I breathe out.

"Maybe.." His eyes fall to my swollen lips, his mouth opening. "Maybe we should take it slow, considering what you went through the last few hours."

I shake my head. "No, I want you." I inch forward wanting to taste him again but he doesn't let me.

"Princess, trust me I want nothing more than to throw you on the couch and fuck you senseless while you scream my name for everyone to hear." He tilts his head downwards, his words making my insides hot and causing my thighs to clench together, hoping for some relief. His eyes big and wild, hungrily staring back at mine while I let my hands explore and touch his face, brushing his hair back and down his neck. My burning desire for his touch has overtaken me completely, my stomach tightens just at the thought of all of the things we could do but I know that he's right, my body still feels beaten and heavy.

"You need to rest for tonight." He takes my jaw between his fingers.

"Will you stay with me?" I'm scared that the minute we leave each other, things will go back to how they were, and what I realised after tonight and after what happened is that I don't wanna be without him anymore. I don't want to be scared anymore cause you never know what will happen.

His face breaks into a soft smile. "Lay down."

His arms felt familiar yet foreign. Like I missed the feeling of falling asleep buried in his chest, his scent filling my senses but different like something's changed.

The book that I'm reading has been getting less and less interesting with each minute passing. Maybe it's the fact that it's 10:00 pm and I'm laying in my bed, reading on Saturday night, or the fact that he hasn't called me or even texted the whole day. It's been a few days since the incident at the cafe. After we woke up that day JJ drove me back home and explained pretty much everything, about The Royal Merchant, the compass that they found, and how it lead them to the tape recorder that Big John left for his son. I still can't believe some of the things that happened to them and what they discovered. He made me promise that I won't tell a soul, something I would have done even if he hadn't asked. I haven't seen him since, mostly cause my parents have been babying me none stop. I told them what happened at the cafe, twisted around a little the actual truth, and claimed that the 2 men tried to rob the cafe but JJ and John B showed up. I haven't gone to school or done anything in general for the past few days. I've been laying low and have recovered completely but my mind has been stuck on what JJ told me. Through the days I found myself wondering what they were doing and wishing I was with them.

A knock on my widow breaks me out of my thoughts. JJ sends me a small wave. My head snaps to my door, checking if it's closed before running to open the window. He quickly pushes his tall body through the small opening, stumbling a little in the process.

"Hi" he breathes out, standing up straight.

"Hi," I giggle "what are you doing here?" I scan him with my eyes making sure that he's okay and also taking in the sight of him that I've missed so much.

"I wanted to check up on you." He says, running his hands through his hair.

My hands are itching, wanted to reach in and touch him but I don't know if that is too much. Honestly, I don't know where we stand, all I know is that I've missed him.

His eyes move around my face while he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes catch the movement. "Come here." He mutters before reaching forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. I bury my face into the curve of his neck, my eyes closing at the feeling of his embrace.

"I missed you." He speaks so quietly that I almost didn't catch it.

I tighten my arms around his neck, silently responding. I missed him too.

"I was worried about you." I say, pulling away slightly.

"About me?" He lifts his brows playfully. "Come on have a little faith in my survival skills princess."

I slap his shoulder lightly, trying to hide my smile. "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, everyone's fine." He brushes me off. "I'll tell you everything but first.." He cups my jaw with his hands and presses his lips to mine. I let out a surprised sound that dies in my throat before moving my lips against his, responding. I feel him smile into the kiss and he opens his mouth slightly, allowing my tongue to slide inside. He hums as our tongues play with each other, letting his hands fall to my waist. He pulls my body closer to his, forcing me to my tiptoes while the kiss gets heavier. The sound of our lips and our heavy breathing fills the room.

"My parents will hear us." I breathe out.

"I don't care." He attacks my lips again, backing me slowly until the back of my knees hit my bed. He breaks the kiss and gives me a light push causing me to fall on the bed. He stares down at me with a smirk slowly dropping his hands to the bottom of his shirt and peeling it off his body. My eyes take him in, his chest and abs on full display. I bite my lip wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him. He leans down, wrapping his hands around my neck, forcing my head upwards to look at him.

"Don't look at me like that." He drawls out.

I relax my face, staring at him through my lashes. "Like what?"

He pushes me down completely, my back flat against the bed while his legs are spread on each side of my hips.

He gives me a light slap on the cheek but it's enough to make my back arch and my thighs to clench together. "Don't test me, princess, 'cause I don't give a shit about your parents being just across the hall."

My hands find the bottom of my own shirt, pulling it over my head. "I don't give a shit either."

"Fuck." He dives right into my chest, his mouth nibbling and sucking on my exposed skin. My hands go to his hair instantly, guiding him to my breasts. He wastes no time, unclipping my bra and taking one of my nipples in his mouth.

"Mhh," I moan as he circles his tongue around the hardening nub. His hands hold my hips down when I try to find some relief by grinding my hips to his. His lips travel farther down teasingly, dragging his tongue over my stomach and stopping at the top of my pajama pants. His eyes shoot up, the light and hunger in them challenging me. His fingers toy with the fabric, pulling it down slowly, not breaking eye contact while I lift my hips, allowing him to fully take it off. He straightens up, his hands fumbling with his belt with his eyes glued to my panties. His breathing hardens when I open my thighs exposing myself to him.

"You have no idea how I missed you." He groans, pulling his pants down.

I blink at him with a small smile. "How much?"

His eyes darken, looking down at my figure hard. " Let me show you." He pulls me by the thighs to the edge of the bed and kneels down right in front of my core. I inhaled sharply as he wastes no time ripping my panties off of me. His eyes beamed with hunger, taking in the sight of me. He lowers himself just a little, his hot breath fanning my bare pussy causing shivers to spread through my body. He looks up, eyes narrowing playfully using the tip of his tongue to deliver a soft flick over my clit. My legs twitch slightly, which causes him to smile.

"Stay still princess." He pins my hips down again and drags his tongue over my slit. He groans against me, the vibration shooting through me while he wastes no time diving in and moving his tongue at a faster pace. Heat explodes through my veins, my toes curling at the feeling of his wet muscle absolutely devouring me with no hesitation. He sucks and nibbles, drawing and flickering against my sensitive nerves as I whimper shamelessly underneath him. My hand shoots to his hair, head falling back and my back arching when I feel not one but two fingers slotting into my entrance.

"Oh my god, Jay." I rasp out, my palm covering my mouth.

His fingers start moving violently fast inside me, filling the room with pornographic wet sounds as the heat on my lower stomach builds embarrassingly fast. "Fuck baby, you're so wet." He groans against me before moving his thumb to cover my clit, rubbing circles in a fast motion.

His mouth attaches to my neck, taking the soft skin between his lips. "I want you to come on my fingers baby can you do that for me?" He whispers in my ear.

My body lifts off the mattress, feeling myself climbing higher and higher. "I-I'm gonna-" The words die in my throat as a giant wave of unexpected pleasure crashes over me, my eyes roll all the way back to my head, my mind going completely numb as his fingers keep up the pace allowing me to ride it out.

"That's it, baby," He mumbles against my neck. I close my eyes, still feeling the tingling sensation lingering in my belly. He pulls his fingers out, the aftermath of my orgasm dripping to his palm. He wraps his swollen lips around them, testing me while piercing me with his blue eyes.

He moans lightly. "The taste of you is incredible."

"Can I have a taste?" I nod down to his visibly hard member, that's fighting against the fabric of his boxers as he straightens his back, towering over me. My mouth watering at the thought, hands inching to fill the weight of his throbbing cock against them.

A low chuckle escapes him. "I would die to feel those pretty lips around my dick," He takes my jaw between his fingers. "But there's something I want more right now." He captures his bottom lip between his teeth, reaching to pull his boxers down. His dick shoots up free hitting his stomach, my eyes flicker to the tip, red and swollen with drops of precum coating it already. He pulls the drawer of my nightstand open, grabs a condom from the ones that he left a few weeks back, and quickly rolls it over his dick. He takes both of my wrists in his hands before I have any time to touch him and slams me back down on the bed.

He pins my hands over my head. "Your hands stay there."

I nod, trying to stop the grin of excitement that's forming on my lips. The feeling of need and frustration that only he can make me feel and that I've missed so much overtakes me as he lines his dick in my entrance. His tip brushes over my clit, opening my folds before pushing in slowly. His forehead falls on mine and we both gasp as he fills me up entirely.

"Shit, princess." He hisses when I nod my head and give him the green light to move which he wastes no time doing. He pulls out all the way before slamming back in, filling me up again with such a powerful push that it causes me to gasp out loud. His hips find a rhythm in no time, attacking me with sharp, deep thrusts that make my breasts bounce almost painfully. His forceful movements draw all kinds of sounds out of me while everything begins to fade. My ears fill with the sound of my own heartbeat and his low moans and grunts as he pushes in and out of me, stretching me out with the size of his cock. I fight to keep my eyes open, only being able to focus on his beautiful face, that's overtaken by a mesmerizing fucked out expression. His eyebrows are drawn together, drops of sweat coating his forehead while his mouth hangs slightly open. He looks breathtaking as he fucks me senseless, reminding me with each thrust that in reality, he's all I want. His hands reach for the back of my right thigh, lifting it a little gaining access to a better angle that allows him to thrust deeper. My eyes roll back, unable to contain the pleasure that shoots from my core, my hands fly to his back, nails dining to the soft flesh, earning a deep grunt from him.

"You're doing so well baby, look at you taking my dick like a good girl." He grabs my neck with his free hands, his pace quickening making the knot in my stomach tighten. I dig my nails deeper, hands tugging his hair while both of our bodies dripping with sweat but I don't care about anything except my second orgasm that approaches.

"Are you gonna come for me again princess?" He teases me, feeling my walls tighten against him. "Tell me how good it feels, and maybe I'll let you come." He demands, tilting his head downwards and tightening his grip around my neck.

I can feel my wall throbbing, tightening painfully around his dick trying to keep him inside as heat begins to spread in my belly. "It feels so good Jay, so fucking good please baby don't stop." My dignity dissolves as tears start to form at the corners of my eyes.

"Tell me I'm the only one you want." His thrusts being to get sloppy, signalling that his own high is approaching. His eyes are wild, and everything starts to feel overwhelming.

"Y-you're the only one, I only want you." I confess, my tone desperate and begging.

He connects our foreheads again, hand dropping to my clit and with a single flick of his finger, I'm over the edge. My back arches, black spots fill my vision, and an almost euphoric feeling pulses through my veins. My brain and body are overtaken with pleasure and I keep my eyes shut as JJ's orgasm hits him just as hard.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He buries his face in the curve of my neck, letting his low groans fill my ear. I let him ride it out, ignoring the over-sensitivity that I start to feel. His body freezes for a few seconds as he releases into the condom before collapsing on top of me. I feel his heart drumming in his chest while he tries to control his breathing. I'm still in a state of bliss, ears still ringing and heart still beating fast. We stay like this for a good minute, our sweaty bodies touching and our fast breathing filling the air until he decides to lift himself off me and fall to the side.

Silence overtakes us, letting everything that just happened sink in. He pops himself on his elbow, head resting on his hand as he looks down at me with soft eyes. His hair going in every possible direction, his lips swollen and his neck covered in marks I don't remember making.

I smile at the sight of him.

"What?" His breathing is still uneven.

"You're pretty." I think out loud.

His eyes shift, lips curving upwards. "I love you, Y/n."

The raw emotion is visible as he speaks the words, causing my heart to stop for a split second. The words I desperately wanted to hear and desperately wanted to say for so long. The skin of my cheeks tingled but I say nothing, still processing what he just said.

His face breaks into a smile, unphased by my silence. "Fuck, I wanted to say that for so long." He lets out a breath of relief, pushing his hair back.

I've dreamt about this moment, never actually believing that it'll happen, thinking that just a hookup was all that I would ever be for JJ.

I stare deep into his ocean eyes. "I love you too JJ." I speak the easiest truth I've ever had to say out loud.

His smile grows more, overtaking his whole face and causing his eyes to almost close. I reach over throwing a hand around his neck and kissing him like I've never had before. We both smile into the kiss and giggles fill the air.

"I'm in love with you." He says again, against my lips.

His phone interrupts our moment before I have the chance to say it back again.

He sighs, reaching towards the floor to retrieve it from the pocket of his pants.

"What?" He picks up, keeping his eyes on me. His face drops, eyebrows coming together. "Slow down, slow down." His gaze shifts and I lift myself to a seating position, quickly throwing my shirt on. "Okay, I'm coming got it." His body almost bounces as he paces back and forth, his free hand moving fanatically until he stops right in front of me, ending the call.

His eyes light up and a challenging smile tugs at his lips.

"What?" I ask, completely lost.

"Wanna join me on a treasure hunt princess?" He grins.

"What do you mean?" My face twitches with confusion.

"John B needs me, they found something." He begins to get dressed.

"And what? You want me to join you guys?" I can't help the excitement that spreads over my face. "What do you mean?"

"The guys are waiting for us at Kie's place." He stands up straight, all dressed and ready with his hands resting on his hips. "That's the reason I came here." He bites his bottom lip, trying to contain his smile. "To get you. They guys are okay with it, especially with everything happening with Sarah and John B. " He waves his hands around.

I frown." What's going on with Sara and John B?"

He shakes his head, reaching for my waist. "I'll explain on the way. Are you in or not?"

I look into his eyes, the deepest shade of blue I've ever seen. The eyes that I've fallen so hard for and I would do anything for. The eyes that are now silently inviting me, challenging me, and making my heart beat faster. All my life I wanted nothing more than to be like them, to feel what it's like to live life their way, and even though what happened was the scariest thing I've ever experienced I can't help but give him a small nod.

His teeth make an appearance before he takes my face in his hands, planting a kiss on my lips. "Get dressed then baby, the gold is waiting." He smirks.

I smile against his lips. I guess my mom was right; the choice is pretty easy if you follow your heart.

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the12thnightproject · 11 months

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Chapter 2: Tick, Tick….People are disappearing. Meanwhile Katsu & Mitsuhide’s second meeting goes about as well as their first..

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

Six weeks later…

Aki was late.

Not the normal lateness common to people living in an era that didn’t have clocks – that I was used to. No, he was over a week late to meet me in Niigata. For the past nine days, I had been holed up in an inn, basically counting the lines on the floor (twenty-four), playing both sides of a game of shogi (to a draw), and teaching myself to juggle. The fact that I could now easily manipulate five makeshift ‘bean’ bags (wood shavings and gravel sewn up in fabric) said everything about my boredom. Aside from one kunoichi who stopped in to wait out a rainstorm, there had been nobody interesting to talk to (granted, she had been really interesting).

While I would have said that Aki could survive anything and everything that life threw at him – nine days late was an ominous sign. Sure, he’d always been prone to disappearing for long periods of time. He’d also had a knack for reappearing on the exact day he’d promised.

Something’s wrong.

It was possible that he would eventually show up at the inn, but I couldn’t continue to hole up indefinitely – for one thing, inns cost money. I had paid for the 10-day “week” in advance – did I really want to commit to another week of this?

I need to be looking for him.

If Aki had been around to ask for advice, he probably would have suggested I return home, to the The Mountain, and wait for further communication. But that would just guarantee that Fume would put me to work scrubbing floors for the rest of the year. Hm…. I could continue south, and go to Azuchi. Aki maintained a bookstore there, but that was a front. In truth, it was a message drop for his couriers and spies. If anyone had seen him recently, then Takauji, who was currently manning the store, would know of it. And, if not… well, I could at least leave him a ‘where the hell are you?’ message while I figured out my next move.

Once decided, I wasted no more time and headed out into a cool late summer morning. The air had a bite to it, and the breeze carried the smell of harvest fruits. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with wondering what happened to Aki, I might have enjoyed the journey to Azuchi. But happy as I was to be on the move, my mind was consumed with images of all the disasters that could have befallen him. Maybe he’d gotten caught up in a petty squabble between neighboring daimyos. Maybe he’d been injured or taken suddenly ill somewhere.

Maybe he simply got tired of you and never planned to return.

Ugh! Mental doomscrolling wouldn’t do me any good. Ok. Positive thinking. Instead of worrying why he was lost, figure out how to ensure he was found. Though Aki’s system of couriers and spies wasn’t nearly as vast a network as some others, like the Takeda mitsumono, there were still a lot of us. If we all worked together, we’d run him to ground… somewhere.

By the time I arrived at the bookseller’s in Azuchi, I had nearly convinced myself that finding Aki would simply be a matter of legwork. I could do that. I’d been criss-crossing the country on my own for years now. I had contacts in every city. I could do this… I could d--

“Thank the Gods you’re here.” Takaugi greeted me, not with his customary vague hello-and-can-you-take-over-so-I-can-go-piss, but a frantic announcement. “Francisco sent a message that Aki is missing, and I don’t know what to do.”

There is a reason why Takauji is often the one getting stuck in the old man disguise here. He has no initiative.

I dumped my pack on the floor behind the low counter. “Has anyone else heard from him?”

He shrugged. “You’re the first courier to come through since I received that message.”

Like I said. No initiative.

I put my hand out and after a momentary pause, Taka realized what I wanted and plopped Francisco’s note in it. I scanned it quickly, then slowly, but Taka had indeed given me all the available information. It simply said that Aki had missed a scheduled meeting and Francisco was concerned. But then he had likely needed to pay someone to write it for him, as he barely could speak Japanese. Writing it was far beyond his abilities.

Shit… if Francisco was worried too, something had to be terribly wrong. But… I couldn’t freak out in front of Takauji. Someone needed to take control of the situation, and I appeared to be the only candidate at hand. Taka wouldn’t listen if he saw me panic.

“Alright. Let’s first send out messages to all his couriers – we’ll have them search the corners of the country.” Which had basically been my plan anyway.

Taka simply gaped at me (literally, unhinged jaw). “What should I write… exactly?”

It deserved its own hashtag. #Takahasnoinitiative. I bit the inside of my cheek to avoid snapping at him. He couldn’t help it. Maybe he had been dropped on his head as a child. Daily. “I’ll write the first one. Then you can copy it.” I grabbed my pack, plus some paper and writing supplies we kept behind the counter and started to head for the private courtyard behind the shop. Then, I turned back to Taka. “Oh, and don’t tell anyone he is missing. Anyone who isn’t one of us.”

It shouldn’t have needed to have been said… but Taka doesn’t think either.

Once safely in the courtyard, I allowed myself a moment to have a private breakdown. I could feel my throat and chest tighten. What if Aki never came back? What would we all do? He’d spent years building his network. Would it disintegrate without him?

Ok. Breath.

Breathe.

I flipped myself into a handstand to center myself… focusing on the physical to cleanse the mental. One thing at a time. Listen to the wind, alert to when it chang-

At that moment, what I heard instead of the wind, was the sound of a packet being slapped onto the counter. This was followed by a voice that almost made me topple over. “I have an urgent message for Akihira.”

Mitsuhide.

He sounded about fifty percent less calm than the last time I had heard him speak, and… why am I upside down again? From where I was, as long as I kept still, I wouldn’t be visible from the front, but I couldn’t change positions without potentially alerting him to my presence.

Hopefully, Taka would remember not to mention…“He’s… he’s errm. I’ll m-m-make sure it goes out with the next courier.” Good. Though Taka had stumbled, most normal people would not have noticed.

Then again… this is Mitsuhide we’re talking about. He’s not normal. He might not even be human. Of course, he noticed. “My, my, that was quite the stutter. Is there a problem? You keep looking toward the-”

“Don’t go back there!” Taka sounded like every guilty toddler on the planet.

Footsteps.

Sandalwood and cinnamon.

That prickly feeling shot through me again, destroying all the focus I had just worked so hard to achieve.

Before I could react, my view was impeded by Mitsuhide’s legs. I tilted my head to look upward, meeting Mitsuhide’s eyes halfway. Then he crouched so that we were nearly face to face. “How very interesting, child. One might almost be convinced that this is your preferred …position. Perhaps you are part bat?”

Thank goodness I hadn’t yet started writing the ‘Aki is missing’ messages. Mitsuhide would definitely have noticed those. “Oh, you know. I’m just hanging around.”

No response.

Tough crowd.

It was tempting to stay upside down and force Mitsuhide to continue to crouch, or potentially get a crick in his neck, but today I was Aki’s representative and there was no reason to further antagonize him, even if he was the most aggravating man in this era. I flipped back to my feet with an artistic flourish. “Not to worry, I will make sure that Aki receives your correspondence the moment I see him.”

Neutral professional tone. Don’t give him anything to react to. These are not the droids you are looking for.

His posture shifted, just a little, just enough for me to register his skepticism.

Ok. Jedi mind tricks don’t work on kitsunes. Good to know.

He let me stew in silence for a moment before asking, “what are you not telling me?”

Seriously? We’re doing this again?

“You know, sometimes I think you say things like that not because you believe the person is holding back information, but because you hope they are. It’s a fishing expedition.” And I am not going to bite him. Anything. I’m not going to bite anything.

His eyebrow went up. “After a single meeting, you’ve determined this about me.” Sarcasm dripped into the air and plopped down at my feet.

“I’m very perceptive.” Which is true, as far as it goes. But something about Mitsuhide short circuited the connection between my brain and my mouth. And with my worry about Aki, my shields were low anyway.

“Perceptive… If you say so, Brat.” The heavy pause mid-sentence made it clear that he had other preferred adjectives for me. “I have not forgotten our last meeting.”

Neither had I.

I made a point of smiling at him. Ok, it was a fake smile, and I’m sure he was aware of that. “Perceptive and memorable.”

Eyebrow.

Distract, distract, distract!

I took out my juggling bags and tossed them into the air. “Dexterous too. There was nothing I could have told you anything that you didn’t already know – or that you didn’t learn soon anyway.”

Although I hadn’t personally witnessed any of this past summer’s conflict between Nobunaga’s forces and the Ikko-Ikki, my friend Sasuke (and his friend Yoshimoto) had later filled me in on the details – not that they had been part of the battle either, but instead were part of the diversionary tactic that led up to it.

Mitsuhide fluidly reached over and took over my bean bags – juggling them as effortlessly as I had. “You cost me time.” He let go of the bags and before I could return to the rhythm of the trick, they all fell to the ground.

Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop. Splat.

The fifth one landed on its seam, and burst open, scattering pebbles and wood shavings across the courtyard.

Mitsuhide stared down at the jumble of bean bags at my feet. “Interesting. It appears you aren’t as skilled as you believed you were. It would behoove you to learn, and quickly, that recklessness and overconfidence are quite a fatal combination.” He patted me on the head – patronizing, not affectionate. “See to it that Aki receives my correspondence.” He bowed. Polite but distant, then, without another word, Jareth-with-better-teeth strolled out of the shop.

I hate him.

That had been even less pleasant than my first encounter with him. I felt like someone was jamming an ice pick through my sinuses. Maybe I’m allergic to sandalwood. Or cinnamon.

Maybe I’m allergic to Mitsuhide.

“Did I do that correctly?” Taka peered nervously into the courtyard. “And… he’s not going to come back and kill me, is he?”

You? No. Me? Jury still out.

It would take me years to explain to Taka the art of misdirection. Easier to simply say, “you did fine.” Then I took Mitsuhide’s message out of his hands. Without a second thought, I opened it to read—

“You told him you were taking that to Aki.” Taka scratched his head. “You shouldn’t read Aki’s mail.”

“I always read Aki’s mail. In fact, he once told me I should. Anyway, what I told Mitsuhide was that I would give Aki the message as soon as I saw him, which, of course, I will. But since I don’t know when that will be, if this is important, then I’d better see if there’s something that I can do to help.” I did… owe Mitsuhide that much.

His letter was coded, which made sense, but Aki had made a point of teaching me all his codes, not just the ones he used for his correspondence. We had even created a special code together, but that one was only used between the two of us. In retrospect, this was an ominous sign… maybe he had already been worried about his future.

I made myself comfortable on the ground and started to decode the message. “Go back up front, Taka, this is going to be a while.”

“Can I go take a piss first?” Taka was already heading through the back exit en route to the city’s cesspits.

“Sure,” I called to his retreating back, then got back to the message. Friend. Have you had any knowledge of who might be interested in smuggling Nanban weapons out of Sakai or the western ports? Or at least, would you be able to point me to the daimyos most likely to be stockpiling them?

Hm, if Francisco was to be believed, Aki had been headed to the port of Sakai the last time anyone had heard from him… Was it possibly that he had already been looking into weapon shipments? If so, that was the sort of information that Aki kept to himself, and none of the rest of us had much experience with smuggl—

Except me. I had had experience with them.

“Once they load the crates on board,” Iekane gestured to the other crates, “you ought to be able to climb out at night and track down your brother.” He showed me where there was a latch on the lid, and I tested the escape mechanism. “The ship isn’t planning to leave for a few days.” He handed me my bow and arrows. “Light one of these on fire and shoot it into the air. I’ll wait on the dock with our horses. Goodbye… well, good luck, I mean.” I lay back down in the crate and my world became dark as Iekane closed the lid. A few moments later, I heard another voice. “You there! What are you doing with my … shipment?” Footsteps came closer to the box. I held my breath. Now would not be a good time to be discovered. Hopefully Iekane wasn’t in trouble either. “Final inventory check!” Ooh, that was a good bluff on Iekane’s part, since he couldn’t know what was in these boxes. I heard the lid on another box open, and the dull heavy clank of metal – but the only metal that would be imported these days would be Nanban guns. Crap. Of all the crates to pick, we’d somehow gotten mixed in with someone’s weapon smuggling outfit. “Wait ‘til they get a load of these, heh heh.” The clunk of that lid. I prayed that this guy wouldn’t inspect every box. Another voice, this one with a European accent that I couldn’t place through the walls of the crate. “I’m happy you approve, Motonari. You, boy, help us move these.” “Of course.” That was Iekane’s voice. I felt the box being lifted. The motion was soothing, almost like being rocked in a cradle, and in spite of my anxiety, I felt myself becoming sleepy. But after about half and hour or so, my crate’s journey ended with a thunk. And then more thuds – oh the other crates. The jingle of coins. “Pleasure doing business with ye!”

Even after over five years, memories of that near-death experience still gave me nightmares. I couldn’t go into small spaces without having a panic attack… but that also meant that I had very clear memories of exactly how to find that warehouse in Sakai, a warehouse that had at one point been used to store Nanban weapons.

Still, it had been five years… the warehouse could have changed hands, the weapons could be coming to an alternate location now. Was this enough information to pass along to Mitsuhide? Maybe I should check it out on my own first… especially since I had another reason to make that trip. Aki had been planning to meet Francisco, who lived in Sakai. I could go to Sakai myself, check things out, and question Francisco. Then if I learned anything interesting, I could bring that back to Mitsuhide, with a mea culpa for reading his mail.

It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Or… something to that effect.

By the time I dropped three stacks of messages into Taka’s hands, my fingers were sore and cramping. Originally, I had planned to have Taka make the copies himself, but I didn’t trust that he would complete them, or avoid a transcription error that would spill over into all of them – this was too important to trust to a Takauji version of “telephone” in which “Aki is missing” turned into “Go to the province of Aki to look for a missing letter.”

“Give these to Ryo, Kinshiro, and Heitane when they pass through.” Each of them would distribute their stacks to Aki’s spies, who were scattered across the country.

“Are these for Aki, or for Mitsuhide’s request?” Taka looked at the store’s entry, clearly worried that speaking his name out loud would cause the man to manifest.

Don’t worry, Taka, you must stand in the middle of a pentagram and say the name three times for that to happen.

“This is for Aki. I’ll deal with the other on my own.” At my words, Taka sighed, in what I presume was relief. “Um, do you mind if I bunk with you tonight?” There was a set of rooms for the bookseller to use above the storefront. The quarters weren’t terribly big, but for one night, it wouldn’t be so ba-.

“Must you?” Taka frowned, as he glanced at the position of the setting sun on the horizon. “Er, normally I wouldn’t mind, Katsu, but there’s a woman and…”

“Say no more.” Did this woman realize that under the old man disguise Taka was about thirty years old? Or… not? Maybe … you know what. I did not need to speculate on Taka’s love life. I could find a cheap inn. “If Mitsuhide comes back, all you need to tell him is that I took his message to Aki.”

“What if Aki comes back looking for you?” Taka carefully stored the messages under the counter. “Are you heading back to The Mountain?”

Hm, it probably would be a good idea to tell someone where I was heading, just in case. It would be better if I could tell a useful someone, someone with initiative, but I had to work with what I had. “No. Sakai. I’m going to Sakai.”

The shops in the castle town were all in the process of closing for the night, but a few merchants were still willing to sell their wares, even as the sun set. If I was going to be in Sakai, I would need a decent wicker or bamboo hat. Otherwise, in the warmer coastal weather my hood would stick out like a sore ninja. While I waited for the woman in front of me to decide between two different decorative obi cords, as usual paying attention to everything and nothing, the conversation between the woman and the merchant caught my attention.

“Weren’t Lord Hideyoshi and Lady Mai supposed to have returned to Azuchi by now?”

Mai… that’s Sasuke’s friend… the one who works in Azuchi castle.

I’d never met her, but she and Lord Hideyoshi had figured prominently in Sasuke’s tales of this past summer’s battles. I turned a woven hat upside down, examining the inside, pretending to be concentrating on its weight and not her response.

“Um. Well. Yes. But. Um. They are having such a nice time together that they decided to extend their trip. In fact. Mai sent a nice note to all the seamstresses telling us about how pretty it is in Sakai and the weather is lovely there so they are not yet coming back.” The woman’s hands were shaking.

She’s lying.

One of the rules of lying? Keep it short and simple. The more you talk, the more you have to keep track of.

Proving my point, the seamstress continued, “Of course she also said that Azuchi has the best fabric merchants, so I’m sure that when she and Lord Hideyoshi return, she’ll come here immediately… because our orders are piling up.”

“I look forward to seeing her again,” the merchant said while he wrapped up her purchases (she bought both ties).

After the woman took her package and left, I quickly paid for my hat… clearly, I had some additional research to do…

Later that night, when I was holed up at yet another inn, I jotted down what I had learned that afternoon. Mai and her fiancée Hideyoshi had taken a trip to Sakai, and they had neither returned when expected nor sent a message announcing a delay. This was atypical behavior for Lord Hideyoshi (per a couple of Oda’s vassals who probably shouldn’t have been talking that loudly in a public restaurant). Item number two – Mitsuhide was concerned enough about weapons smuggling and smugglers to send a message to Aki.

Were these two items connected?

Meanwhile, Aki had also disappeared, sometime before he was due to meet Francisco in Sakai.

And though I did not know where Aki had been specifically going prior to intending to meet Francisco in Sakai, that was enough of a confirmation to me that all roads led to Sakai.

I hadn’t spent a lot of time there myself, but I knew enough to get around. I knew the blind alleys and the rooftops. Even better, I was certain that Francisco would be willing to trade lodgings for in-house translation services. I could take my time and investigate this properly.

‘Case log’ begun. Travel plans solidified. Hat acquired. Time for sleep.

Time to attempt sleep.

Time to stare at the ceiling again.

Sleep never comes easily for me – I have to chase it, tie it down, hug it to me, and hope for as much rest as possible. Unsurprisingly, when I finally dropped off, I was haunted by the memories of the crate, the weight of full boxes pressing down, the voices of the weapons smugglers checking their stock.

Likely these dreams were summoned by my plan to return to the scene of the so-called crime.

But maybe in doing so, I would finally put some of those ghosts to rest.

@mllorei @selenacosmic @tele86 @bestbryn @lyds323 @akitsuneswife

#10things #10 things i hate about you #mitsuhide monday #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #ao3 link

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mystichanjumin · 1 year

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Nights Like These

Pairing: Jumin x Mc (reader)

Tags: Fluff, Slight angst

Summary: Jumin is away on a business trip, and although Mc usually accompanies him on these trips she decides to stay home to get some work done. Now she lay restless in their shared bed on night three of Jumin's week-long trip regretting her decision.

It was nights like these, the ones where she lay alone in the bed she usually shared with her husband, that made her feel like she did all those years ago isolated in Rika’s old apartment. It had been ages since Jumin had gone on a business trip without Mc by his side, but she had promised him that she would be fine and that the week apart would fly by before either of them realized; she cursed herself for the foolish decision. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and groaned at the sight. It was 3:45 in the morning, meaning only three minutes had passed since she checked last.

With a disgruntled huff, Mc tossed for the up-tenth time that night. As she stared at the ceiling she began to feel the hollowness nestle itself in her chest. If she allowed it Mc knew that the familiar feeling in her chest would consume her, so she took to distracting herself. She reached for her phone, which lay charging on the bedside table, and mindlessly scrolled through her social media. It had worked for a while until she stumbled across a photo of her husband. This was a common occurrence, every company wanted proof of meeting with the successful businessman, and being his wife meant that she often came across these corporate posts.

As Mc zoomed in on the photo of her husband she took notice of how tired he looked. To those who didn’t know Jumin the way she did, they would assume that the young CEO looked as he usually did, but Mc knew him far better. The look in his grey eyes concerned her, they looked so dull and the bags under his eyes indicated that he was not taking care of himself the way he had promised. Without another thought, Mc dialed her husband’s number.

The line rang twice before an equally concerned voice answered, “My love, is everything all right? You should be asleep.”

“Are you taking care of yourself? I told you that you still need to take breaks even when I’m not there to remind you. Are you eating well? You know that you forget to eat when you're on these trips,” Mc concluded her loving reprimand with a sigh.

There was a moment of silence on the other end which was broken by the sound of a bemused chuckle, “I apologize, my love, I will do better to take care of myself. While we’re at it, would you care to explain to me why my wife is awake at such a late hour?”

Mc knew that he would worry about her if she told him that sleeping in their shared bed without him was nearly impossible, but she also knew that he would see straight through her if she tried to lie, “It seems you’ve spoiled me, Mr. Han. I find it very difficult to sleep without you. It’s only been three days and I miss you so much.”

“I can send for you in the morning. It’s a two-hour flight, and although I hate when you travel without me, I would rather that than you compromise your health due to lack of sleep,” a pragmatic solution to most, but Mc knew the true meaning of his words. He hated being without her just as much as she detested being without him.

Before Mc could respond, surely to lightly tease the man, he continued, “I fear that it is you who has spoiled me, Mrs. Han. Your health is of the utmost importance to me, but I must admit that my wanting you here is for far more selfish reasons.”

“Oh?” Mc prompted with a smile, “What would those reasons be?”

“I miss my wife,” it was as if he was letting out a breath he had been holding for too long.

“Two hours isn’t so long,” Mc sat up and pulled the covers closer to herself. “Elizabeth has to come with us too, we can’t just leave her here.”

“Of course,” Jumin agreed.

“A-and I still have work I need to do, so you can’t distract me either.”

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” Mc giggled at Jumin’s mischievous tone.

“I guess I should get some sleep before my flight tomorrow,” Mc began to feel the familiar pull of sleep for the first time that night. “I have to pack and I have to get Elizabeth ready too. Oh, and I should give the new secretary a run down on how things go when we're both away and—“

“I will take care of that. You just focus on getting yourself and Elizabeth here safely. I cannot stand another day without the two of you with me.”

“Who knew Mr. Jumin Han was such a softy,” she teased lightly.

Jumin laughed, and it was Mc’s favorite sound, “Only when it comes to you, my love. Now please get some rest.”

“Okay,” Mc whispered as she blushed. “Good night. I love you.”

“And I love you. Always. Sleep well.”

Mc held her phone to her chest once the call ended. The feeling of loneliness she had felt earlier that night was replaced with the warm comfort of knowing that someone loved her so unconditionally. She laid back in bed and let herself be drifted off to sleep.

#Jumin Han #Jumin han fluff #mystic messenger #mystic messenger jumin

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unprocione · 10 months

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name : rian!

pronouns : he/him :)

preference of communication : discord! always discord, i constantly forget tumblr ims exist, and on discord i can remark things as unread, so i don't lose the notification if i can't reply at the time, which helps when i'm burnt out or if my attention span is particularly bad that day.

most active muse : leon & only leon these days!

experience / how many years : i've been writing on tumblr since late 2018! it feels like way longer, i started writing on tumblr when red dead redemption 2 was released and i was writing josiah trelawny while the game was actually still under embargo, scrambling to watch every new playthrough episode i could find while the fandom was setting up. i didn't actually play the game myself until it was released on pc in late 2019!

best experience : i had several really good experiences writing atlas/frank fontaine from bioshock in a western cusp-of-the-nineteen-hundreds american heartland verse, going into alot of topics like industrialism at that time, the american labour movement and american union history, strike tactics & the economics of greed. it was inspired alot from a show on the usa network called damnation that got cancelled, i did a ton of historical research and i mostly wrote with red dead redemption ii muses, did alot of worldbuilding with @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins who is an excellent roleplay partner! i'm working on potentially setting up that verse again but from a different perspective for leon, because i miss it.

rp pet peeves : oh i have alot of opinions but i keep 'em to myself until you give me an opportunity. can't stand people getting cancelled for writing villains as the actual villains they are in canon, or characters generally as more complicated morally, especially when they're referencing content from the actual media and people are losing their minds because they're not the fandom expectation or easy ship material. so many people will have 'mun does not equal muse!!' in their carrds and byfs but will clutch their pearls if you even quote directly from source material, and then harass the fuck out of you, send hate anons, suicide bait, i mean we've all seen it happen or heard about it if it hasn't happened to us directly, definitely so if you're on this site for more than a year, so you know what i mean. i don't like people looking to my writing for moral directives or sifting through all my content to glimpse some kind of agenda, i think that's chronically online behavior. obviously it's different if someone is writing pedophilia or something but i just feel like i shouldn't have to make that disclaimer at all, it feels like common sense but if i don't say something i run the risk of someone messaging me like 'so you support so & so? kill yourself!' y'know.

fluff, angst, or smut : i like all of these in moderation so long as there's depth to it further than just being fluff, angst, or smut for no cause, you know? if it's not signature to our muses, if it doesn't fit narratively, and is just feel-good content, i just get bored, and having any of this in back to back to back to back threads of just one roleplay genre is like being smothered to death with chocolate cake, i only like a little bit once in a while otherwise i get sick of it, y'know.

plots or memes : plotting 100%, but even though i heavily prefer plotting, i don't often have the energy for it? even if i really like the other muse's portrayal. or, alternatively, i will do all of this plotting in my head, and just like. never act on it, or bring it to my roleplay partner, due to this weird ocd-adjacent anxiety symptom i'm trying to break now that i have meds to help me out, where i make alot of social rules and conditions for myself that just overall completely pens me up and isolates me. i don't know what it's called but i've just always had that and it gets in the way of what i love doing all the time.

long or short replies : i don't have a reliable perception of long or short replies! i'm happy with two paragraphs but i'll reply with like six or eight paragraphs average because once i get over my anxiety there's really nothing else stopping me and i like run-on sentences and exposition and scenery and internal monologues!! and i know it's not always appropriate sometimes too, like if we agree on a shorter thread for less pressure, but i've always had a hard time knowing where to stop with anything, i have no perception of an appropriate point to cut off? i need like. a reverse nanowrimo.

time to write : apparently 11:00 pm - 6 am est, since that's when i'm most productive lately.

are you like your muses : god i hope not. i did choose to write leon as gay though because, i'm gay myself and it was more comfortable for me, even though he's pretty heterosexual in canon, but that's less from me wanting to relate with him on a point, and more because i have had some really uncomfortable and bad experiences shipping with female muses who didn't respect boundaries in the past. whether that's projecting attraction on me as a person instead of my muse, or wanting me to write noncon or torture porn, and finding a way to take it out on me when i said no or tried to let them down easy, and it's one of those things where looking back on the memory of it gives me the same tight-chested feelings as alot of people get when they've been involved in intense drama and callouts and stuff. just can't do it anymore! maybe that'll change someday ^^

tagged by: @blitzkriegers & @omniterror thamk u both for tagging :) tagging: @ubcs, @sinibell, @valour-bound, @mycelae

#there might have been more folks who tagged me but i can't remember...#» 🕊️ ﹕ chris redfields arms are bigger than my future. (ooc.) ❧#» 🕊️ ﹕ over here ，stranger. (dash games.) ❧

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spikeinthepunch · 1 year

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i really wanna pull back to my website. i think i lost track of my initial "personal website" hype as at the time, while i was all excited to get on it and did have fun, i wasnt in a great place? mainly in terms of having a social circle online. which i think is important to think about. social media pulls you in by the interaction- quick ability to chat, pass around posts with rts or rbs, like them. the reason many get stuck to it is because of that- you want interactions. especially as an artist or any creator you are likely posting with the intent of gaining an audience. and so looking for validation in the form of interaction is common.

this is 100% something i fall into. and even more so, i have lacked a circle of people to call friends online esp after my rp. i have mutuals. mutuals who are all lovely! but lets be real, how many of you do i talk to in PMs or on discord?? probably 1% of you, and its no problem with you.... i just find it harder to connect online than ever before. unless i get overly passionate with mutuals i have strong interests with, and more of them go out of their way to openly interact (talking on reblogs, replying on posts), its unlikely i will figure out how to connect either. aside from it potentially being my problem, i do think social media normalizes 'passive interaction'. a simple reblog and nothing more, quiet tags in a post, just a like, never sending asks (or doing so on anon).

back when i wass 10-14 online, it seemed easy. i think when youre younger there is more excitement to have online friends, and kids can often be just... more boisterous online as its a space where you can be yourself for real. i never stopped being myself online, i just find myself tired, busy, or having trouble engaging with exciting fandoms like i used to because im aware of how toxic some can be. so it wasnt until late last year where the ball started rolling- i started actually making connections with people through single-malt-sctoch esp after some joined my mc server. majority were from my sideblog and thus enjoyed that fandom. suddenly it was like i was back in mindcrack from my earliest days on tumblr. id never gained such an active group of mutual connections, and thus friends.

thats what i realized i was missing in order to purely dive into the personal website life i think. if i were to go off to my website and have no friends then im just isolated, or pulled back to social media in order to feed myself with social interactions (which direct one are far and few in between- usually still just rt's, likes, etc which arent actually satisfying in the end) . of course i will still be here sharing my art, esp for the sideblog i am actively making stuff for. and ill still attempt things like youtube etc and share projects! but it helped to realize not being able to have friends i could contact in places like discord was making it hard for me to focus on the site. of course i want to socialize, but it is hard to do so when you cant make obvious connections, and as hard as it was trying to step into actually gaining more than just mutuals, its happened and i really want to utilize that.

#me @ me can you ever make a short post for literally anything lol

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tuesday7econlive · 2 months

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The Opportunity Costs of a Late Night Dilemma

Late night hunger. This is a common issue that has arisen for most college students at least a dozen times over the course of their undergraduate career. Students find themselves engrossed in their work, balancing a lifestyle between classes, assignments, maybe a sport or going to the gym, or perhaps even a job. Living a hectic schedule has its ups and downs and can often leave a student feeling hungry during the nighttime. Such hunger will have students applying a concept called opportunity cost to their thought process when decision making. Opportunity cost is the cost of giving up something in order to get something else out of it. When weighing the costs and benefits of where to eat a student will have to consider the amount of money they spend, the amount of time they have to eat the food, and determine the extent to which they will enjoy their food. Sometimes, when food is more expensive at one place than another, the student will have to disregard their preferences and choose the option they can actually afford. This situation is called the weak axiom of revealed preference.

I often find myself experiencing such a dilemma, especially on Friday nights. My last class of the day is from 6-7:30pm, and I never have any time to eat beforehand. By the time my class is over, I face my first choice of deciding whether to get food from the dining halls or UTC. Last Friday, I found myself looking at the costs and benefits of both when deciding where to eat.

The Dining Hall

Costs

Would only give me 15 minutes to eat food before the dining hall closed since it was a 15 minute walk there from my class

I was unsure of what the menu would look like (I do not eat pork but sometimes they only have pork options at late night) so I might not have been able to eat from the dining hall anyways

There might not have been too much food left over, so I might not have been able to get the equivalent of a whole meal

Benefits

I would not have to spend any extra money as I already have the unlimited meal plan

UTC

Costs

I would have to spend extra money

Benefits

I would be given a few hours to eat before places in UTC close

I had more options of what I would like to eat

I could guarantee that I would be able to have a full meal

As seen above, if I decided to go to the dining hall, I would have been able to get food without having to spend extra money, but I was not sure how much food I would have been able to get or if I could have even gotten food in the first place. However, if I went to UTC I would have been spending extra money, but at least I could have guaranteed that I would be able to have a decent sized meal. After looking at the opportunity costs of both, I decided to give up on the idea of not spending extra money and go to UTC because my prime focus was dealing with my hunger.

When I went to UTC, I had the option of either going to In-N-Out or Chipotle. This is where I faced my second set of choices, where I had to consider the opportunity costs of both. Last Friday, I did not have an extensive amount of money in my bank account, so I had to keep this in mind when making my decision.

In-N-Out

Costs

Missing out on Chipotle

Benefits

Cheaper meal which I had the money for

Would satisfy my hunger

Chipotle

Costs

Paying for a more expensive meal which I didn't have the money for

Benefits

Tastes better than In-N-Out

Would satisfy my hunger

Though I do prefer Chipotle to In-N-Out, I got In-N-Out instead. The costs and the benefits between both places lined up with a 1:2 ratio, and my preferences indicated that I would generally go for Chipotle. However, due to the lack of money in my bank account at the time I realized that I would have to go to In-N-Out regardless of my preferences. In this case, I demonstrated the weak axiom of revealed preference. In the end, I was satisfied for the night as my hunger was no longer an issue I had to deal with.

Noura St. Hilaire

ID: 21849556

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pyroclastic727 · 4 years

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Is Amity autistic?

In the Owl House fandom, we hear a lot about how Luz is written to be ADHD. Now I would like to present the flipside: Amity is coded as autistic.

Here’s the breakdown.

Amity is touch-averse. “BuT aMiTy ToUcHeS LuZ aLL tHe TiMe” nice try. The key to autistic touch-aversion is only being okay with touch when she initiates it. And that totally matches up with Amity. See, Amity is really happy when she initiates touch with Luz. She’s also cool with it when Luz holds her hand after standing near her for enough time that Amity can predict an incoming touch. That’s because Amity consents to that touch and expects it.

But when other people touch her? She doesn’t take kindly to that. When Luz initially bumped into her at Covention, she snapped at her and degraded her. Even when she bumped into Luz in Enchanting Grom Fright, her initial instinct was to snap at Luz, since she didn’t expect to be touched. When Hooty touched Amity’s face without consent, she flipped out and beat him up. Not even Lilith beat Hooty up when he wrapped her up in his mucus-filled tube, but Amity gave Hooty the injuries we all wanted to see him with, because he breached her boundaries without her consent. Even as late as the last episode, Amity fell over when her face got close to Luz’s on the bleachers, because she didn’t expect it.

Amity stims. Okay, this one took me a while to catch, since most of the time, Amity is very controlled with her actions. This symptom isn’t very intense; her senses aren’t understimulated too often, and she really only does it when she’s really excited.

Mainly, when Luz offered to carry her. While she adorably scrambled for words, she also flapped her hands against her legs. At first I thought it was just a cute thing she did, but there’s more to it. She was so excited to be held by Luz that it showed up in her hands flapping...a common stim. With Amity feeling more comfortable around her new friends than the old ones, I wouldn’t be surprised to see more stimming in the future.

Amity always has The Mask as her expression. You know, the one with her eyes half-lidded, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly downturned. I also call it the Resting Blight Face, for...reasons.

At first I thought it was just a way to hide her true emotions, since her parents are assholes. But even though Luz makes her feel accepted, she keeps doing it. It’s more like...you know that feeling when you’re thinking really hard, or uncomfortable, or ashamed, or even just relaxed, and you can’t think of which expression to wear quickly enough, so you put on an unreadable one to tide people over? Apparently most people don’t do that, since allistic people tend to have expressions for those feelings, ones that arise naturally.

Another symptom of autism is having hard-to-read expressions, or being less expressive. In Amity’s case, it’s the fact that she doesn’t see a need to have an expression in calmer moments, so she just uses her usual expression.

Amity hyperfixates. This has several facets, so I’ll break this down.

She initially hyperfixated on school. And that’s how she became top student. Amity Blight is who you would mistake for a “gifted student.” But make no mistake...she is not gifted, and gifted is a bullshit label used to overexert people and force them to keep school as their special interest for their entire lives (and I may have a bit of a vendetta against it). Anyways, we already know she’s a perfectionist. My theory is that Amity originally was hyperfocused on school--the Abominations track, to be exact--and that’s part of how she got so good. Then, her focus shifted, but the school expected her to keep being top student. Cue the perfectionism; she was no longer able to focus on school like she wanted to, but everyone expected her to, so she got insecure about it.

She hyperfixates on Azura, just like Luz did. Yeah, she keeps it secret from the world, for most of the time. But she definitely likes Azura a lot. I mean, she started to reconsider her opinion on Luz when Luz offered her an Azura book. She destroyed her jock career because she tried to use an Azura move in real-life Grudgby. Her interest in Azura is long-lived, starting about the time that her interest in school would have expired (which would explain why she stayed closeted). And we can’t ignore the fact that she sees Azura in Luz and is definitely enjoying the parallels between herself and her fictional counterpart. (Which might not be a coincidence, but that’s an entirely different theory).

She hyperfixates on Luz. Yes, part of this is a crush. But a lot of us have watched Amity’s personality go from alpha bitch to cutest little bean in the Boiling Isles, all thanks to Luz’s influence. Lumity is not a rivals-to-lovers speedrun due to bad writing, it’s due to Amity hyperfixating. She’s already extremely introspective, going so far as to keep a diary where she analyzes and makes sense of herself. It’s not a stretch to say that she identified the faults that kept her from Luz and worked hard to change those off-screen.

Amity keeps a journal. To me, this seems like masking. You see, Amity is what people would consider to be high-functioning, since she can pass for allistic. But in order to do this, she has to put in significant effort on her part. See, when she does something that makes it so she doesn’t pass, she just sees it as a problem (since she probably doesn’t know about autism, and she passes well enough that she would totally be undiagnosed). Then she tries to fix the problem, in order to keep being perfect.

Amity has awkward body language. Thanks to the journal and other ways of masking, you don’t see this early on. But once she feels comfortable enough around Luz to let her guard down...she completely forgets boundaries. To review: in episodes 15-17, she throws herself at Luz, holds her formal rival’s hand for 24.71 seconds, blushes every time she sees Luz, and loudly declares her thirsty thoughts about Luz in uniform before literally running away. While some of this can be seen as normal gal pal things or crush things...you’d think a repressed wlw like Amity would try very hard not to touch Luz, so as to avoid being outed. Or at least she would do less of that stuff, so as to respect Luz’s boundaries the way she wants her boundaries to be respected. But that’s not the case, since she straight-up misses a lot of social cues. And since she feels comfortable around Luz, she doesn’t feel the pressure to be so paranoid about the cues, and can be her awkward self. From her point of view, she probably sees it as being freed from her parents’ judgment.

Amity takes things literally, sometimes. Now, this doesn’t happen all the time, since she isn’t heavily affected by this autistic trait. But when Luz says “I’m picking up what you’re putting down” and Amity says “I’m not putting down anything” and looks down...she not only missed the conclusion Luz drew from her words, but also assumed a literal meaning from her words. I can’t come up with many other instances of this, mostly because this doesn’t happen often. I would assume that Amity missed these a lot early on, and learned how to mask/identify them.

Amity is easily upset when things don’t go as planned. Let’s review these. In the library, she gets really mad at Luz when they end up stitched to a book, and it takes Luz’s sweet personality to get Amity to loosen up and laugh over it. When she goes to practice magic, and Luz steals her wand and uses it to get her siblings kidnapped, Amity locks Luz in a cage and assumes that she will get badly injured if she tries to fix the problems she caused. When Luz comes to her school, she panics and focus on how that doesn’t change anything. When she burns Willow’s mind, she appears absolutely terrified of being punished, flinching and bracing for impact when Luz finds her near the memories, constantly trying to distract Luz as they work together to save Willow, and hiding behind Luz when she confronts the Inner Willow. When Luz asks her to join her in Grudgby, Amity doesn’t initially agree, instead taking much more of the episode to come to terms with her involvement in it.

Amity likes predictability. She’s not attached to routines, but she does like being able to expect things. If she makes a plan for the day, she expects that day to adhere to that plan, and she doesn’t respond well when it changes. When Luz comes to her school, she focus on how that doesn’t change anything...not how that would ruin things or complicate things. Whenever she gets involved in Luz’s shenanigans, she either gets angry, scared, or takes a while to accept it. In a broader sense, she takes a while to accept that Luz and her shenanigans are a permanent fixture in her life--sixteen episodes, to be exact.

Finally, it would make for some excellent representation. An ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist is pretty groundbreaking. But an ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist girl who dates an autistic wlw witch girl from another dimension is exactly the kind of intersectional representation you’d expect to see from an unrestricted Owl House crew.

...Now, this might just be me hardcore projecting. I’m a little scared to post this because I don’t know how much of this is me reading into imaginary things, or trying to convince myself that Amity is like me. Feel free to debate/disprove me or support me in the comments.

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zukkoxx · 3 years

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mha boys doing the hickey prank on you

(w/ bakugo, kiri, shinsou)

bakugo 💥

you and bakugo’s relationship started with bickering and annoying each other till you drive the other crazy.

and that didn’t stop when you started dating.

now, it’s more of pulling silly little pranks on each other.

and each time you would try to one up the other.

well, the last prank you pulled in bakugo had him fuming, he was mad for a week.

so obviously he had to get you back even worse.

he got mina to help him, figuring she’d be best at making the makeup look like the actual thing.

she berated him the whole time, telling him if he broke her best friend’s heart she’d shoot acid in his eyes.

he brushed off her comment. you deserved this.

it was a little late in the evening after you get to bakugo’s dorm, finished with all the tasks you had to do today.

“hey kats.” you greet, placing your things on his desk and joining him on the bed where he was sitting on his phone.

he looked up at you, almost feeling bad when you gave him a genuine smile before snuggling up next to him. “whats up?” you say when he doesn’t respond.

“nothing. how was your day?” he quickly asked.

the two of you talked for a while about random stuff, and at some point you went up to kiss his cheek, laughing at a comment he made.

but you freeze when you see a dark, purplish mark on the side of his neck, in plain sight.

you furrowed your brows, wondering how you hadn’t noticed to before.

“katsuki...what’s this?” you ask, making him turn from his phone and look at you.

“what’re ya talkin about dumbass?”

“don’t call me a dumbass, what the hell is this on your neck?” you speak louder, pressing a finger under the mark.

“it’s nothing, probably a bruise from a mission-”

“bakugo.”

the blond widens his eyes at your deep tone and the way you said his name. he never really heard you speak like this unless it was towards a villain. but even then, you never sounded this serious.

“you and i both know that’s not a fucking bruise.”

he stares at you silently, not knowing if he should end the prank or not.

he decides to push on.

“i don’t know what you want me to say.” he shrugs, looking away from you. he couldn’t stand seeing the hurt in your eyes.

you scoff, trying to get rid of the pressure building in you throat. “you really are just a big asshole, aren’t you?”

he stayed quiet. “if you wanted to break up with, you could’ve just told me.” you try so hard to keep your tears at bay, not letting them cross your waterline.

but it feels like a dagger had been stabbed through your heart.

“and to think, i thought you could have actually loved me.” you chuckle darkly before trying to get off the bed.

upon hearing your words, bakugo quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you against him.

“i do love you-”

“let me go you asshole!” you push his chest, tears finally escaping. “we’re done! that’s what you wanted right?”

“y/n it’s not real! calm down.”

he holds your waist so you were sitting on his lap, keeping you still. you look at him, trying to figure out what he was talking about. “what the hell do you mean it’s not real?”

he stared at you for a second, almost scared that if he looked away, you’d be gone. but he eventually reaches to the table beside his bed and grabs a makeup wipe mina lended him. he quickly wiped the mark, staring at you intensely.

“see?” he turns his head, and you find the purple mark gone, only a slight red pigment left from where he wiped so harshly. “fake.” he holds up the wipe so you see the purple stains covering it.

“it was a prank.”

you felt like you could finally breath again, but your relief quickly turned into anger, and you punched bakugo’s chest out of instinct. he didn’t react.

“i hate you. why would you do this?”

“you pranked me last week!” bakugo states, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“i put pink dye in your shampoo katsuki. this was overboard.” you mutter, wiping your cheeks to get rid of sparse tears.

bakugo frowned, feeling even more bad about the whole thing. he had to admit, he took it too far. “you’re right. i’m sorry.” you didn’t respond, but accepted his apology.

“hey.” bakugo lifted your chin to look at him. “you know i love you, right? more than fucking anything.” you nod. “don’t ever doubt my love for you, or i may have to blow myself up for making you feel that way.”

you laugh slightly, bending down so you could hug when, pushing your face into his neck.

“you know i’m getting you back for this.”

kirishima🪨

kirishima often does things without thinking ahead.

not fully comprehending the consequences of his actions.

this was one of those moments.

it was april fools day! great right?

except kiri and the boys made a bet, wondering who could pull the best prank on someone in their class.

kiri took a while thinking about who he should prank. and eventually, a perfect prank to pull on his precious s/o came to mind.

a hickey prank. haha....ha. -_-

he had seen tons of videos where someone made a fake hickey and pranked their s/o with it. he always laughed his ass off at them.

this would be the perfect opportunity!

so he sprinted to ochaco’s back room, hers being the closest, and asked for some makeup he would return quickly.

he went to his room, doing his best at imitating the red, purplish bruise you’d often give each other.

when he thought he did the best he could, he leaves his room, trying to find you so he could get the prank over with.

he sees you in the kitchen, eating a bowl of fruit, chatting with jiro.

he makes his way over slowly, nervousness creeping up his spine with the amount of people in the common area at the moment.

he didn’t want to embarrass you, but he didn’t want to give any of the boys 50 dollars either.

he stood behind you, awkwardly waiting for you to finish talking to jiro.

jiro looks past you, motioning for you to check. you turn, eyes brightening as they land upon your boyfriend.

“hey kiri, what some fruit?” you push the bowl towards him, and he shakes his head with a dopey smile. “no thanks babe. just checking on you.”

you melt at his kind words, about to respond when jiro speaks up beside to. “i think you should be checking on yourself kiri. jeez y/n, are you human or a leech?” she covers her moth to stifle a laugh, pointing to a very specific spot on kiri’s neck.

you halfheartedly laugh, confused, and glanced at the area yourself.

you breath stops when you notice a big purple mark covering the side of his neck.

you didn’t do that to him...

kirishima stands uncomfortably still, not real really knowing what to do this far into the prank.

“kirishima? wha...” you can’t even speak, just utterly astonished at what you’re seeing.

you stare at him and shake your hands, waiting for him to explain himself.

“are you going to say something!?” you ask, the hurt in your voice making his heart break.

he didn’t like this. not at all. why did he do this?

“...fuck you kiri.” you spit, ignoring the fact that you still used his nickname while you were mad at him.

you walked away in a hurry, leaving jiro glaring at kirishima.

“what did you do?” she asked.

“i-it was a joke! a prank! i...it’s april fools!”

“well go tell them that!” jiro says, pushing kiri to go follow you.

kirishima runs after you, getting to you as soon as you enter the elevator to go to your dorm. he sprints inside, crashing into you in the process.

he looks at you with wide eyes when he sees tears running down your face. “why are you here?” you quickly yell.

“y/n it’s a prank! it’s april fools day, please baby! i’m sorry!” he goes to hug you. you don’t return it but you don’t push him away either.

“what the heck eijiro! that wasn’t funny!” you yell in distress. you were happy it wasn’t real, but the feeling from being absolutely heart broken to feeling better in the span of seconds was overwhelming.

“i know. i know it was stupid of me to even attempt this. i made a stupid bet with the others. i am so sorry. you know i’d never do this to you. please, forgive me.” he begs, holding onto you for dear life.

“i’m really upset with you right now, eijiro.”

“you should be. i don’t blame you y/n. but please, don’t leave me.”

you sighed, finally going to hug him back. “i’m not going to leave you kiri. i was scared you were leaving me!”

“i’d never! never in a million years!”

“i know, just don’t do that again. you really scared me.”

he nods against you. “never again.”

shinsou 🌀

shinsou was never good at expressing his emotions.

he was very reserved and even though you were his s/o, you often had trouble figuring out what was going on inside that complicated head of his

so when you laughed at izuku’s jokes, or praised shoto’s quirk

of course he wouldn’t tell you how jealous it made him feel. how it made all his insecurities rise up.

you didn’t mean to make him feel this way, god no. you had known the two boys longer than him and were used to having the comfortable playful conversations with izuku and serious quirk related talks with shoto.

but shinsou didn’t like all the attention you gave them.

and he couldn’t find a way to let you know how he felt that didn’t involve telling you. which he wasn’t going to do.

so he ended up doing the next best thing that came to mind.

make you feel what he was feeling.

he gets some makeup from someone he had already forgotten the name of and went to his dorm, doing his best to make the fake hickey at least a little believable.

he didn’t want the prank to be too serious, just to hit you with a quick realization that you had been making him feel this way.

so he waits for you to meet him in his dorm like you always do, and even leaves the makeup out in the open to see if you’d catch on yourself.

“hellooo my love.” you say cheerfully, and shinso smiled at your happy mood.

“hi y/n. had a good day?” he asked, sitting on the edge of his bed as you approached him, standing between his legs.

“mhm. but i missed you.” you muttered, pushing his face against your stomach as you hugged his head.

hitoshi frowned at your words. maybe this wasn’t a good idea. maybe he’s been overthinking and this stupid prank will just make things worse.

“so, what did you do today-”

you pull back from hitoshi and catch a glimpse of a bruise on his neck. you grip his chin, turning it to the side with slight force and narrow your eyes.

“what happened here?” you asked curiously

“nothing babe.” your boyfriend shrugs

“hitoshi is this a fucking hickey?” you asked after getting a better look, hoping to whatever god there was that his answer would be no.

“what does it look like?”

“don’t talk to me like that, you prick.” you seeth, and push his head away until he falls on his back on the bed.

“we’re over! i hate you.” you say the last part quietly, still not wanting to believe what you saw was real.

“wait y/n, it’s fake!” hitoshi yells before you could leave his dorm.

“how is it fake hitoshi? what, you had no real feelings for the bitch that sucked on your neck? do you think i’m stupid or something?”

“the hickey is fake y/n. i made it.”

you stared at him with deceiving eyes, crossing your arms and tapping your foot. “is this some type of mind joke hitoshi? i told you don’t use that shit on me.”

“please babe, c’mere. wipe it off.”

you slowly made you way back to him, gripping his chin to turn his head again and swiped at the mark. it smeared a little, but didn’t come off. you licked your thumb before rubbing it into the mark, finally making it disappear.

you pushed him back slightly, eyes still angry. “what was that all about? why’d you do that?” you ask.

“just thought it’d be funny.” he lies, looking away from you. you knew he was lying. he always looked directly at you when talking about something. especially something serious.

“do not make me even angrier than i already am shinso. fess up.”

hitoshi groaned, putting his hands over his face before looking at you with tired eyes. “fine, i got jealous of you hanging out and being friendly with midoriya and todoroki. i just wanted to get you back in a way.”

“so you pretend to cheat on me?”

“i’m sorry. it was really immature of me and i should��ve just talked to you. the makeup is right over there if you still need proof.” he points to his desk and glance at it, seeing the makeup sprawled on top.

you sighed, not wanting to forgive him so easily. but you couldn’t help it with the way he rubbed the back of your legs soothingly and looked at you with love filled eyes.

“ugh, you’re lucky i love you.” you state, trying to stop the smile growing on your face as you see him smirk softly.

“and i love you. more than anything. thank you for forgiving me.”

“and...i’ll try not to make you jealous. i really didn’t mean to.” you say, remembering the reason for the whole situation.

hitoshi shook his head. “you can hang out and be friends with whoever you want. i know you wouldn’t leave me or be unfaithful. and i’d never be unfaithful to you. i’m so thankful for you.”

.....

“stop getting all mushy on me.”

i always see hcs where the boys get pranked, i thought it’d be cool to do the reverse. i can still do y/n pranking the boys if you guys would like that! hope you enjoyed this! leave a request here! -> 🥀

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avnkin · 4 years

Text

Wardrobe Malfunction

Author’s Note: I’m listening to an ASMR Hogwarts study session while writing this,, would highly recommend lmao

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: After having kept your relationship with Draco a secret for many months, you find yourself accidentally exposing it after having grabbed a piece of clothing that wasn’t your own.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some angst but fluff to even it out

You and Draco had been keeping your relationship a secret for almost four months now, you both having mutually decided that the wrath of your housemates wasn’t worth it, you being a Gryffindor and him a Slytherin it wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven.

Every weekend Draco’s roommate went back home to visit his family meaning that you and him had his entire dorm to yourselves, which you always took full advantage off.

It was now a Sunday and since his roommates trip had gotten delayed it meant more time that you and Draco had to yourselves, so you stayed hauled up in his bedroom the entire day only leaving twice to attend the Great Hall for breakfast and dinner.

“I wish it could always be like this” you frowned as you laid your head on Draco’s chest, you were growing tired of having to hide your relationship, especially from your friends since you felt like you were betraying them in some way.

“I know darling, me too” Draco kissed the top of your head before beginning to run his fingers soothingly through your hair quickly lulling you into deep slumber.

When you awoke the next morning with Draco’s arm draped around your waist you allowed yourself to cuddle more into him thinking you would have a couple more minutes to spare, but oh boy how wrong you were.

Once you looked up at the clock that hung above his door you gasped once you saw the clock indicator pointing at 10 but not 8. You sprung out of bed beginning to frantically run around the room in search of your clothes.

“What are you doing” Draco rubbed his eyes as he propped himself up onto his elbows, “I missed first period and I’m so late for second” you rushed out as you hastily pulled up your skirt, “you need to wait a couple of minutes so people don’t notice we’re both late”

“Alright” Draco laid back down onto his pillow, “accio tie” you waved your wand before stretching your arms up to get your robe which laid on top of Draco’s closet.

The tie wrapped itself around your neck and you didn’t bother attempting to fix it simply giving Draco a kiss on the forehead before you ran out of his dorm and into the common room.

You always had to be careful when making your exit to be sure there wasn’t anyone there to see you. Once you’d made it out into the hallway unscathed you ran as fast as your feet could carry you towards Snape’s classroom.

“Miss Y/L/N finally decided to make an appearance I see” Snape crossed his arms over his chest as he displeaseingly watched you stand in the door way of the classroom, all heads now turned in your direction.

“Sorry Professor” you muttered before hurriedly taking your usual seat next to your friend Liza.

“So what did I miss?” you asked as you began pulling your books out of your bag. When you didn’t get a reply you quizzically looked over at your friend who was staring wide eyed at you.

“Liza?” you asked snapping your fingers in front of her face but she still didn’t look up at you.

“Uhm Y/N... why are you wearing that?” you furrowed your brows at her words before following her pointed finger down to your chest. You felt sick to your stomach once you saw Draco’s Slytherin tie wrapped around your neck instead of your red Gryffindor one.

Hearing the classroom door squeak open you looked up to see your boyfriend enter, the first thing you noticed was the lack of green around his neck.

Your friend followed your gaze and was quick to put two and two together. “Oh my god! You and Malfoy?” she squeaked and you hurriedly went to cover her mouth your cheeks flaming red as you looked around the classroom to see if anyone had heard.

“No! Or yes but you can’t tell anyone!” you declared slowly removing your hand from her mouth.

“I think everyone already knows” she giggled gesturing around the classroom and sure enough students were whispering amongst each other whilst pointing at your tie and Draco’s lack of one.

“Bloody hell” you sighed internally groaning your eyes finding Draco’s who carried the same panicked glance as you.

Once class was over you quickly gathered your things and made your exit. As soon as you reached the corridor you ripped the tie from around your neck and squashed it into your bag.

You suddenly felt someone grab your upper arm and walk in front of you quickly seeing the back of Draco’s head made your stomach sink, he didn’t look too happy.

“What the hell Y/N how the bloody hell did you mange to take my tie” he whispered-yelled being careful not to attract the attention of oncoming students.

“I’m sorry! I taught myself this trick ages ago where my tie ties on it’s own and it’s never done anything like this before, it must have been because I was tired, I wasn’t focused i’m so sorry Dray” a heavy sigh left your mouth as you looked down onto your feet.

“You know what I can’t be seen with you right now so just stay away, alright?” you simply nodded at his words a heavy weight on your chest as Draco reached his arm out indicating that he wanted the tie.

You reached into your bag and slowly passed it to him, as soon as he had a hold of it he walked away from you, leaving you standing alone in the deserted corridor.

Tears began to fill your eyes as you watched him round the corner, how could you have been so stupid, you just ruined the best thing you’d ever had in your life.

Almost two weeks had now gone by and Draco was still ignoring you, he’d managed to shut the rumours about him and you down quickly and it particularly stuck with you once you’d overheard his friends saying that he’d never date a ‘mudblood’ like yourself.

Thinking it was over between you and Draco you didn’t hesitate to accept a trip to Hogsmeade with a boy from Ravenclaw you knew had been harbouring a crush on you for many months now.

His name was Aidan McLaggen and he was apparently quite the heartthrob, it seemed every girl had a crush on him since when you’d exited the main doors accompanied by him you’d gotten nasty glares from almost all the girls you walked past.

Aidan had insisted that you’d go to The Three Broomsticks for some butter beers which you were hesitant about since you knew Draco often spent his time there with his friends over the weekends.

But after minuets of Aidan’s protesting you eventually agreed letting him lead you into the crowded tavern. Your eyes immediately started dancing around the crowd in search of a certain blond which didn’t take you long to find.

Once Draco’s eyes met yours you found yourself melting underneath his gaze but before you could do anything Aidan had intertwined your hands and began walking you towards an empty table at the far end of the tavern.

Once your butter beers finally arrived you attempted to push all thoughts of Draco into the back of your mind and focus on the boy sat in front of you but you had missed how Draco’s eyes had been filled with rage once he saw Aidan touch your hand and how he’d abruptly stood up from his chair once he saw the two of you sit down, arms still connected.

He’d practically power walked towards you slamming his hands down on the table causing the containments of your butter beer to spill all over your hand.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing McLaggen” you stared wide eyed at Draco as you watched him glare at the poor boy in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you asked before Aidan could get a word out but Draco didn’t look over at you simply continuing to glare at Aidan who seemed to have no idea what was going on as his eyes darted between you and Draco.

“Just out for butter beer with this lovely lady what about yourself Malfoy?” Aidan gingerly replied as he took a sip from his butter beer, raising an eyebrow at the blond stood in front of him.

“Well this ‘lovely lady’ happens to be my girlfriend so if I were you i’d leave, right now” his tone held a warning to it as Aidan looked over at you. “Is that true?” he asked and that’s when Draco finally made eye contact with you.

You shook your head at him before abruptly standing up, the chair loudly squeaking from underneath you as you began to make your exit with Draco hot on your heels.

Once you’d made it out into the cold brisk air you wrapped your arms around yourself continuing to ignore Draco’s calls as he ran after you. Once he finally reached you he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him.

“Y/N please-” he began but you cut him off, “No! Draco what the hell do you think you’re doing? You don’t talk to me for weeks and tell all your friends that you’d never date a ‘mudblood’ like me but then you see me with somebody else and you do this?”

“I never said that, you know I wouldn’t! They came up with that all on their own and I’m sorry alright? I’m so so sorry, I love you and I’m ready for everyone to know that”

“What?” your voice was small as you watched him intertwine your fingers before pulling you into his chest.

“What are you doing Draco people are watching” you panicked as you noticed the lingering crowd of students beginning to crowd around you.

“Well then, let’s give them a show” Draco smirked before he fully pulled you into him, leaning down towards you so he could connect your lips with his. You smiled into the kiss as your arms going around his neck as his travelled down to your waist.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked as you leaned back a bit watching as he smiled lovingly down at you.

“One hundred precent”

#draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #harry potter x reader #harry potter #draco imagine #ravenclaw #gryffindor #slytherin

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

NSFW Alphabet // Ethan Torchio

words // 2383

warnings // smut, clearly its nsfw headcannons

pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader (might be mentions that seem like they are for f reamer but comeon theres lingerie for every body 👁️👄👁️)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. an apology to the people on my tag list i think i accidentally have not been tagging you this whole time i am so so so sorry omg

request // yes, it was a reblog i cant find it right now

summary // self explanatory

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Regarding you, Ethan is the king of after care. As rough as he can be in bed, that’s just how sweet he can be once you're done with it. Goes full on dad mode (don’t know how else to explain this). He will have water, painkillers if you’re now in pain, a washcloth to clean you up, new clothes, and of course the cuddles.

“I’m alright, Ethan. I can do it on my own,” you say as Ethan walks to you with the wet cloth ready to clean the mess he made on your body.

“I know you can, amore. I just want to take care of you,” he says as he leaves a kiss on your lips.

I can also see him being the one to make a big fat breakfast the morning after, or at least get up early to pick something up.

Now I also feel that he is in need of some aftercare. It depends on the day really, if he’s had a pretty rough day and all I feel like he’d ask for some backrubs after. In this case he’d fall asleep so quickly like omg. But on the biggest part I see him feeling the need to reassure you that the things he said (i think we already established that this man would call you a slut) are not how he feels about you and will be asking if you feel the same.

“Do you love me?”

“Wha- of course I do, Ethan! Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know… I guess - I guess I am worried that you don’t after what I said.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to himself I feel like he really likes his chest and arms. Like I don’t know but I see him really getting off with you pretty much mastubating on his chest. Ya know what I mean? (i think you do you little sluts). He pretty much enjoys anything you do on his chest. I can imagine him looking at the mirror after you two had sex, seeing the cum on his chest along with the marks you have left and just smiling.

“What are you looking at, love?” You ask, seeing as the man is standing in front of the bathroom mirror from your spot on the hotel bed.

“Nothing, just the mess you made.”

“Mhm, and I bet you like it, huh?”

“You have no idea… Hey, are you sure you got tired? Cause I think I can do another round.”

As for his arms, as I said, he simply really enjoys that he can man handle you anytime, get you in any position he likes and feel you scratching them from the pleasure.

When it comes to you, Ethan is an ass guy. Say what you want but the man is an ass guy, end of discussion. He loves anything that involves your but. It does not explicitly have to be something like anal. He simply enjoys seeing your butt and holding it in his hand. It does not matter if it’s big or not, if it has stretch marks or whatever. Wear lingerie that he likes or that itty bitty teeny weeny bikini if you wear them or even some tight pants that make your butt just poìp and he can not contain himself.

I think I have said that to someone here (i think I had sent an ask to zodi @ icouldbeyourputtet) before but I feel like this man is very into spanking, like not even the rough malicious way. but this very wholesome chill way.

You had been talking about it all day, not having had a minute alone with each other for days, you could only dream what you could do that night after everyone left.

A playlist was playing in the background and a cigarette was burning on the ashtray next to your legs, you assuming a similar position, as said cigarette, bent over Ethan’s lap as he caressed your ass cheeks and back, playing around with the lingerie set he had gifted you a while back. (Did I just go to search my fave porn vid, lol exposing myself, and get disappointed because I can’t find it and translate it into fanfiction? yes yes i did, so bare with what i can remember)

“It’s okay, baby, you can take a little more, come on,” he praised, leaving a spank and yet another soft rub on the very red cheek.

He continued, going with the music, a very nice pattern, not very rough spanks but just enough to cause pain, pleasure and redness all over. Accidentally the man landed a few very rough ones causing a gasp and a series of giggles as you practically fell off his lap.

“Ethan, what the hell?” You laughed getting up from the floor and this time sitting on the man’s lap, sharing kisses with him.

“What,” he copied your action and laughed, “it was not intentional. I got carried away by how nice your butt is.”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is and is not messy. He will not want the cum to be in every surface possible you know, he will be careful but at the same time this man just loves to see his cum on you, whether it’s your back or your stomach, or in you if you’re ok with it. I bet he has a teeny weeny breeding kink but not necessarily because of the idea of breeding you but rather because he looooves seeing his cum run out of you… I'm not sure if this falls in the breeding kink category but alright

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to fuck you while watching porn.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like he is pretty experienced. From what they band has said in interviews and stuff, he seems to be getting some pretty often (no one, NO ONE, is surprised at that). He is not acting arrogant tho (not unless that’s the dynamic of the night), he is willing to learn what works for you and you specifically

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As I said this man is an ass guy so I’d say anything that involves having the view of your ass. Humor me but i think he’d really like 69 with a female/afab partner (don’t know if this works very well with two dick-baring people lol). It has it all, eating you out,

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think it can be both with him. He will not exactly try to make jokes but if something like the previously mentioned spanking incident happens it’s def welcome.

Now as a general rule I see him being pretty serious. I will be honest, I’m getting brat tamer vibes from this man so it’s all pretty serious when you really get into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering he’s an Italian man and if you look at a lot of photos of him he def fit the ‘mediterenean’ man type. I see him just barely grooming. I don’t see him really shaving or whatever but he also wouldn’t want you to choke on pupic hair, he much rathers you choke on his dick

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It all depends, really. He can be quite intimate with you but it all depends on the moment. There are different occasions for everything. For example, and this is a paradox that I hope I’m explaining well enough to understand, he is not very rough (will not be very aggressive and stuff, like to the extreme those tik tok boys want to pretend they are with their * growling * ew) but he will be rough. intimidating looks, spanking just enough to make you feel pain and redden up your ass cheeks. He’s like that mostly when you are being bratty.

Most of the times, like we’re talkin kind of lazy sex moments, it more wholesome ig, like very intimate and just comfortable and almost comforting. Ok, but like why do i see him having sex and having casual conversation (not the most common, i see this as like lazy day off, having nothing else to do and not being like super horny but being more like h o r n y … am i making sense?)

Setting the scene, you two are at home, both have a day off but it’s kind of raining so any of your plans are ruined. At this point it’s at around 10 am, not early, not late. You have missed each other and both have made it obvious but you are both in a very tired state so you opt for something not too much.

Plain and simple missionary is what goes around this time, Ethan on top just holding your legs around his waist,, going at a pretty medium pace.

“It’s a pity the weather is bad today,” says Ethan staring out the window.

“I know, we were going to go to the beach… I’m bummed about it,” you say, short of breath as the man continues his pace fucking you.

“Mhm, true. But this is better, amore, no? I’ve missed you so much,” he breaths out the last part, moans interrupting his words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does that pretty often, especially if you are not around to help. Sometimes it’s because of you that he needs to. I would def see him exchanging naked pics with you and at first he does that to tease you but he ends up teased when he sees a video you sent of you masturbating.

Bets that he’d be taking photos and vids of you fucking on occasion so he goes to these when he misses you on tour.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As I mentioned previously I see Ethan to be a brat tamer. That I see to be the main kink that kind of works around everything else.

“Can you stop this, slut? It has gotten exhausting. I told you no noise but here you are,” he ordered, looking down at you trembling below his finger tips.

His face was quite stoic, voice never wavering from the strict and cold tone he tended to have when scolding you on the daily. Most times it was leaving a cup out of the sink but this time the scolding came from misbehaving. As if it was not enough that he was punishing you for being a brat and riling him up all morning, now you had to disobey orders. It was getting to him for sure.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you whisper, Ethan seeming satisfied with the response.

“Aw, why so tame puppy, now you decide to be nice?” His tone stayed the same, his words imitating a joke but the whole ordeal was not even close to it.

Now as for other kinks (did I open a site because I could not think? yes, shut up), as a result of being a brat tamer dom there are some few more kinks accompanying specifically that. He is def into bondage, both tying you up but also being tied up on occasion.

“Puppy, I have told you that is not a way to treat me. Untie me,” he says calmly, wrists tied on the headboard of the bed, eyes fixated to you.

“Well, why not? You do it all the time,” you whine, placed on all fours, facing Ethan as you lean towards him on your hands, “I want in on the fun.”

If only he was not tied… Ethan’s mind was already going places, figuring out exactly how he would punish you after you untie him -or after he escapes the restrains, whatever comes first. You knew that, very well - in all honestly that was the plan, that is always the plan.

“Amore, let me go. Let me go and your punishment will be tame,” he voiced looking at you, now positioned on top of his lap, touching yourself right then and there.

“I sense you want to be punished puppy, don't you?” You simply nod your head, eyes closed in pleasure.

“You see, the problem is you will not enjoy what I am thinking.”

“Mhmn.”

“Well, get yourself off now that you can, cause after I get my hands on you… You’re not getting to cum for days, amore.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, anywhere. I can see him having a preference to the luxury of either of your houses or a hotel room but if you push his buttons just right, some restaurant’s bathroom it is.

why can i imagine him having sex at a weeding venue’s bathroom….. omg…..

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Honestly, both. I feel like he would be extremely good at giving it, but would never opposed to receiving

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s ok with them but he doesn’t love them, ya know?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

Is surely try to do new things but it will always depends on what it is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Come on. This goes without saying. He is a drummer for a living. He can surely go on for long…

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I def feel like he has a fair amount of toys. Some for himself, some for you… He looooves using them to punish you.

(small mention to my last fic little puppet)

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A ton! It’s his specialty. Maybe one of his most common punishments is edging and teasing. He can drag it on for days

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not very loud but is surely encouraging you to be.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

#maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio

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alyss01 · 3 years

Text

Studying for finals headcanons:

Corpse x GN!reader, Sykkuno x GN!reader, Toast x GN!reader

Word count: 1.5K

Requested: no

Synopsis: How Toast, Sykkuno and Corpse would be with a S/O studying for finals. Headcannons and fluff.

Warnings: none

A/n: Do I have more than enough requests? Yup! Should I probably work on those? Most likely. Basically wrote this during / after the most intense two to three weeks of studying I’ve experienced in at least a year. I needed some comfort so i provided myself with it, hope it can do the same for others even though most people have most likely already finished all their exams, tests, finals and all that already. Enjoy! (This was also mostly written at like 2AM the day of my last final, but it is proofread)

Masterlist

Corpse:

Let's be honest, he would have no idea what exactly it is you're studying

He knows some basics that are common sense and bits and pieces that he's collected while you were rambling about the topics to him

Generally though, he has no clue what's going on and certainly will not be able to help you do the actual studying

However if it helps for you to explain the topics to him instead of reading the books for a hundred times with seemingly no pay off, he'll gladly listen

Allows you to rant of about the intricate details as he fakes an understanding and nods his head along

Don't get him wrong, he loves to hear you talk and is genuinely interested in what you're saying, but you might as well be speaking a different language cause he cannot understand a singular word that passes your lips

If you're a night owl, that's great! He'll love to bring you midnight study snacks and bring a glass of water every so often

He definitely stays up with you and likes to just hang around the room where you study in the background and vibe to some music

Every so often he will walk up to you for head pats

The screen in front of you shone brightly, lighting up the room. The only thing telling you the time and date was your laptop. With the curtains permanently shut and having lost any sense of time you did possess over the past days, you wouldn't have a single clue how much time had passed otherwise.

Music comes through your headphones in attempt to keep you focussed on the matter at hand, a word document that is much longer than you would've liked containing all the summaries you had made over the past days.

The music however also deafened you from the sound of the door opening and closing, as Corpse stepped into your room with a white plastic bag containing some snacks and a cup of your favorite drink in his other hand.

As he set the objects on the desk beside you, you realized he had come in and pulled one side of your headset off your ear.

Corpse's arms wrap around you from behind, his chin resting on your head as you nuzzle yourself closer in his embrace. His eyes lazily trail over the text on the screen for a moment before they narrow and turn away.

Tilting your head back, you look at him from underneath, chuckling as you catch his confused look at the screen.

"when did you have this exam again?" The question escapes his lips almost with a hint of pity within.

Sykkuno:

Honestly I think it really depends on what you're studying if he will understand it or not

No matter what it is however, he is proud

When he has a chance in any conversation he'll casually bring you up and proudly explain what kind of complicated things you have been studying and how smart you are

He is so encouraging, no matter if he quite understand what it is you study or not

He probably would leave you interrupted while studying, but if you come out of your room to seek his attention out first he'll be so happy

If something bothers you or frustrates you about the material he's waiting with open arms to take your mind off it

If you're studying for long times he'll come to crave some affection so he'll either be glued to your side when you do finish or he will come and seek you out first

Will provide you with snacks, your favorite food, smoothies, coffee, tea, whatever you prefer while studying, he'll get it for you

Will want to spent time together once the stressful period is over, catching up to affection he may have missed during it

I think he'd definitely keep quite a careful watch over you in terms of rest

He will drag you off to bed at 2AM if you're still studying demanding you get some proper rest

"you know staying up this late is bad for your health, right?" The worry was evident in his voice as he leant against your desk as he stood beside you. His back was turned to the furniture and his eyes were glued to your tired face.

"it'll be worth it once summer vacation hits." You shoot Sykkuno a tired smile, making him turn his head to where your mug dutifully stood, as it had been for the past three days, half filled with your favorite study drink which had turned room temperature by now.

He raised his eyebrow in question, watching as you turn back to the screen that lights up your face with white light, the page's reflection in your eyes, "rest is important if you want to do well on the exam."

"so is knowledge and caffeine," though your words may be harsh, the tone with which they leave your lips easily tell him it was a joke, "besides, I'll just need to finish this last part."

His hand finds your hair, and you lean into his warm touch as you shut your eyes for a moment, taking in the moment. A small smile formed on his lips at the sight, his fingers threading through your hair.

"promise this is the last part?" He speaks up as you open your eyes once more, looking up at him as you give him a small smile.

The bags under your eyes paired with the exhausted look on your face had noy been as clear in the past days as they were currently. He admired you for your willpower to study these amounts, but you worried him sometimes with your behavior.

Your voice pulled him back to the small smile that played on your lips, "I promise."

Toast:

He's knowledgeable, not on all topics and subjects, but he's definitely knowledgeable

Start ranting to him about topics and he'll genuinely become interested and follow along, asking some questions here and there

If you ever need to write some sort of paper or essay, he'll gladly read it over for you for any mistakes or things to change

He won't admit it, but if you start explaining some of the things you're studying to him, he'll love it

Especially if it's something you're passionate about, he'd love to watch you explain stuff to him

The way your eyes shimmer, and how excited you look to talk to him about it all, he loves it

Forehead kisses while studying and will order food for you and bring drinks

Probably won't hang around too much in the room you're studying in to give you privacy and peace, but will come in and ruffle your hair before placing his lips on your head momentarily and wish you luck when he passes your door

In these moments often likes to sneak a peek at your papers or computer screen, just to see a glimpse of the topic you're working on

He doesn't mind if you stay up longer than him to study but will definitely drag you to bed for rest when he's decided you didn't give yourself enough rest

"I'm ordering take out, what do you want for dinner?" Toast is quick to poke his head around the corner of your door, phone in hand as he walks in and leans against the doorframe.

Pulling your headset off, you rotate your chair to the side, facing him as you question where he is planning to order.

He walks over to your desk to hand you his phone so you can scroll through the online menu, his hand quick to brush your hair back. Instead of pulling his hand away, he lets it stay in your hair, brushing through it a few times with his fingers.

While you were invested with the online menu, his eyes scan the screen, where you were working on the introduction to a paper.

He recognized the material, the day before you had trailed off on a small explanation that ended up much longer than intended when he asked what you were currently working on.

When you finish looking through the menu and having filled in your order, you catch his gaze glued to your screen.

Before he leaves your room he gives you some slight advice, offering to replace some words with others before wishing you good luck and leaving your room for the time being. At least until the food arrives.

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Circumstances (Just Friends Part 7) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5789

Notes: I have decided to include one of the requests I received in this series as I didn’t know how to best write it as a standalone at this point. I think it makes sense as part of this series as trust between Cillian and the Reader has been clearly established. I might still write a stand-alone piece as well incorporating the same request as this is the sort of Smut I like. So, stay tuned for that!

------

The Letter

It has been five weeks now since Cillian and you admitted your feelings for each other and things were going great.

Some days you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found a man like him, someone who cared not only for you but also your son Max.

Cillian adored Max and Max enjoyed Cillian’s and Cillian’s children’s company.

Cillian would often pick Max up from preschool when you had to work late and prepare dinner for you and Max. Max thought that this was fantastic since you were a terrible cook.

But, despite this, it was sometimes difficult to arrange dates when you both had children to look after. You both tried to work around this issue as best as you could but, realistically, you only managed to have three sleepovers per week, mostly when Cillian didn’t have his boys. This was when he came over to stay at your house and you always hated when he had to leave.

After all, you were madly in love, a feeling which was unfamiliar to you. You wanted to be around him all the time and whenever you weren’t together you missed him.

As expected, you received some backlash from strangers due to your age gap but you tended to ignore the frustrating comments. They didn’t know you and they didn’t know your relationship.

The comments you received from your friends were nothing but supportive and even your grandmother thought that Cillian was good for you, much unlike your previous partners.

You still haven’t told your parents about your relationship, but your sister was aware. She followed Twitter quite eagerly and loved Cillian’s TV Show hence the reason you told her.

Your sister was concerned that your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship due to the large age gap, but that wasn’t a problem you were ready to face yet and little did you know that you were about to have bigger problems than that coming your way.

Bad news was about to hit you like a freight train. It was 10am on Friday morning. You were working from home while Max was at preschool as the doorbell rang.

It was unusual for the postman to drop off letters personally. Usually that meant that you had to sign for your letters, which was never a good sign.

You thought that it must be a vehicle recall, or notice of some sort. But it was worse. It was a letter from your real estate agent advising you that you will be required to vacate the premises within 30 days.

You could not believe it. It was difficult enough for you to find this townhouse as a single mother in an area where the schools were decent enough. You were always on time with your rent and never missed a single payment. You had no idea why you had to move out.

You called the real estate agent immediately and were advised that the owner is returning from America and requires the premises at the end of the lease term. There was nothing you could do.

The real estate agent advised you that there were no suitable rentals in the area within your price range but that they were willing to give you a good reference should you find something else with a different agent.

You were devastated. The last thing you wanted is to take Max out of preschool just after he made some friends. Furthermore, Cillian’s youngest son was attending the same preschool and it was a perfect arrangement for the both of you.

As you went on with the day, you put your non urgent work aside in order to search for rentals online as, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh Cillian… I totally forgot’ you said as you opened the door.

‘You forgot our date?’ Cillian chuckled as he walked in the door, giving you a quick kiss.

‘I must be the worst girlfriend’ you said with some embarrassment. You never forgot a date with your boyfriend before. After all, it was what you looked forward to the most.

‘Relax, it’s fine Y/N’ Cillian said before noticing that your face was slightly flushed and your eyes were red.

‘Are you alright though? You look like you’ve been crying’ Cillian said as he ran his hands over both of your arms. He knew that something was wrong.

‘Yes, I just had a very stressful and shit morning. I am alright now though’ you said as you walked into the bedroom to get changed, ready to go out for lunch.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Cillian asked from the hallway.

You took the letter which you received from the real estate agent from the sideboard in the hallway and handed it to him.

‘I’ve just been searching for a new rental but they are either too expensive or out of the area. But, I have found one in North Dublin and the schools there have halfway decent reviews so…’ you explained and, before you could finish your sentence, Cillian interrupted you.

‘The schools here are much better Y/N. I don’t think you should change Max mid-term; it will put him behind’ Cillian said.

‘Don’t you think I know this?’ you asked frustrated. You were still quite upset about having to move.

‘I will lose the enrolment as soon as I move out of area. Despite, I cannot drive backwards and forwards with work. I barely make pickup time now with the hours I am at the office’ you added just as tears began to build up in your eyes again.

‘Common, sit down’ Cillian said as he sat down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

‘I might have a solution’ he said as he wiped your tears away.

‘Go on then’ you said, still sobbing.

‘You and Max could move in with me. That way, we could spend more time together and Max won’t have to change preschool and can start year one with Charlie’ Cillian suggested.

‘Move in with you? Cillian, don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that? We have only been together for 5 weeks’ you said.

‘Yes, but we’ve known each other for a few months now. Seems like a perfectly reasonable timeframe’ Cillian chuckled, making you laugh. You knew that he was being sarcastic. He always had a good sense of humour.

‘Coming from the man who just a couple of months ago didn’t want to settle down’ you smiled.

‘Well, that was before I got myself such a beautiful girlfriend’ Cillian said before giving you a passionate kiss. He could taste the saltiness from your tears but it didn’t seem to bother him.

‘You are crazy, you know that’ you chuckled after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, you do that to me’ Cillian said while cupping your face with both of his hands.

‘We would, however, need to work on your cooking skills’ he added jokingly, earning him a nudge.

‘Very funny’ you said with a laugh.

‘Seriously though, what do you think?’ Cillian asked.

‘I think Max would really love this idea and I would love nothing more than sharing a bed with you every night. I am just worried that you will get sick of me after a while’ you said.

‘I don’t think I could ever get sick of you Y/N. Just your cooking’ Cillian chuckled before telling you that he loved you.

‘I love you too Cilly’ you said before kissing him passionately.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

‘It’s a yes, thank you’ you said before pushing him back onto the bed.

‘The lunch reservation is at 1pm Y/N’ Cillian said as you hoovered over him.

‘Forget about lunch’ you responded just as you threw your t-shirt to the floor.

However, just as you were getting down to business, your phone rang, not once, but twice.

It was Max’s preschool and you knew that it was urgent.

You quickly returned the call and were told that you must pick up Max as he had a fall on the playground.

You got dressed quickly and drove to preschool to pick up Max. You were advised to go to hospital to see whether Max’s arm was broken.

Being cautious, you followed the teacher’s advice and took Max for an x-ray at hospital. Luckily, it was just a sprain which should resolve with some rest. Unfortunately, by the time you got to leave the hospital it was 6pm. You were there for hours.

Cillian suggested that you and Max come over to his place for dinner. You gladly accepted the offer and this allowed you both to talk to your kids about moving in together.

As you told them, they were beyond excited and Max was quick to arrange a sleepover for the following night.

You and Cillian agreed but, for a change, arranged a babysitter to look after your three boys allowing you to go for dinner and to the movies with your friends which was something you didn’t do very often.

Movie Night

The next evening, Cillian’s sister came over to watch the kids. This was the first time you met someone from Cillian’s family and she was quite excited to get to know you.

Apparently, Cillian had told her and his parents about you already.

After you chatted with her for half an hour, you both made your way to the restaurant.

Unfortunately for you, your friends had invited Jeremy, unaware of the fact that he continued to message you daily much to Cillian’s frustration.

Regardless of this, both you and Cillian were polite as you sat down across from Jeremy and your friends.

‘What did you guys do with the kids tonight?’ your friend Amy asked.

‘My sister is looking after them at my house’ Cillian responded.

‘What about Max?’ she asked.

‘Max is at Cillian’s house as well’ you said, which is when your friend Amy slipped the news. You had already told her that you would be moving in with Cillian just before he starts filming again.

‘Oh well, better to get used to it. Living with 4 boys soon Y/N eh? That shall be interesting’ she said.

Her comment quickly raised a lot of questions, in particular from Jeremy.

‘You really are becoming a sugar baby Y/N aren’t you?’ he said sarcastically, causing Cillian to laugh. He tried very hard to take Jeremy seriously, but it was difficult.

‘A sugar baby? Is that even a word?’ Cillian asked.

‘You know what I mean’ Jeremy said.

‘No, please enlighten me’ Cillian responded.

‘Alright’ Cillian chuckled.

‘It’s none of my business Cillian, but why is that you actors have to get involved with women who are so much younger than you?’ Jeremy said.

‘You are right, it’s none of your business Jeremy’ you said harshly while Cillian tried hard to bite his tongue.

Your friends quickly changed the conversation after that but you couldn’t keep your hands of your boyfriend that evening simply to annoy Jeremy and Cillian played along.

‘I am sorry he’s been a tool’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear as you walked to the movies with your friends.

‘I find it very difficult to remain polite around him’ Cillian said.

‘I know’ you responded just as the theatre opened.

You took your seats and, to your frustration, Jeremy sat down right next to you, causing Cillian to get annoyed.

After what Jeremy had said to you and Cillian, you refused to speak to him and largely ignored him until the movie started.

About twenty minutes into the movie, you started to get rather bored. You couldn’t believe that you had to be there for another two hours. Who decided to choose a two- and half-hour movie in French, with subtitles? Of course, you did, without doing any research.

You looked over to Cillian and noticed that he was disinterested in the movie as well and stopped reading the subtitles. It was evident, he was somewhere in dreamland, probably thinking about how he could annoy Jeremy after his most recent insult.

Noticing your boyfriend’s disinterest in the movie, you reached for his hand, running your hand over the top of his gently. You had his attention now and he gave you a warm smile for all you could tell in the dark theatre.

Taking his hand into yours, you guided it on top of your thighs which is where it sat for a while. Not getting the hint, you arched back into your seat and guided his hand further up beneath your loose cotton skirt.

Whilst you couldn’t see much, you noticed Cillian turn his head towards you. Just as he did, you guided his hand further up your thigh while biting your lip. You tried hard for your eyes not to leave the movie screen.

He finally got the hint and squeezed your thigh gently before handing you your cardigan from your bag.

You placed the cardigan across your lap just as Cillian lifted up your skirt slightly beneath it, giving him better access.

You glanced to your right to ensure that Jeremy, who was sitting next to you, didn’t see what Cillian was doing.

Luckily for you, he was intensely focused on the movie although, no doubt, your boyfriend would have preferred if Jeremy knew what you were doing. After all, Jeremy had just insulted him and it wasn’t long before Cillian and you got together, that Jeremy had told him that he would like to get into your panties.

Just as Cillian’s fingers wandered up your upper inner thigh, you released a sigh and parted your legs slightly while making sure that your cardigan provided enough cover.

By the time Cillian’s fingers reached the apex of your thighs and touched your panties, they were already damp.

You were grateful that the theatre was so dark because your skirt was up to the top of your thighs and draped over Cillian’s hand which would otherwise have been clearly noticeable beneath the thin cardigan.

You were panting with desire, just from Cillian stroking and squeezing your thighs and running his hand over your wet panties.

You slid down a bit in your chair and spread your thighs even more. The adrenaline rush had your inhibitions going out the window.

You could hear a slight chuckle from Cillian as he noticed you pushing your body down against his hand.

Just in that moment, you felt his fingers sliding your panties to the side.

Within seconds, he dipped a finger inside your wet entrance, gathering some of your natural lubrication, then moved it upwards toward your clit.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, hissing quietly. By that time, you both had completely stopped paying attention to the movie.

Cillian started in a slow rhythm, circling your clit a few times, then dipping down shallowly into your entrance, repeating it over and over.

Your fingers were digging into his forearm on one side and onto the armrest on the other.

Your hips were moving of their own accord as you were whimpering quietly as Cillian’s fingers moved in and out of you.

Suddenly, it hit. You groaned quietly, gripping boyfriend’s hand, pushing his finger into you even deeper and grinding your clit against the palm of his hand.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you and you couldn’t help it but let out a shallow moan.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Jeremy asked, noticing the sound you made while looking at you with some confusion.

‘Yes, I am fine’ you said bluntly and with a deep breath while Cillian pulled his fingers out of you with a grin on his face.

You handed Jeremy your popcorn before rearranging your skirt and handing Cillian your cardigan. At this point, he needed it more than you as his erection pushed against the zipper of his jeans.

‘Follow me’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear before standing up and excusing yourself, walking past Jeremy.

‘Where are you going?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Bathroom’ you responded. You were still annoyed with him and he wouldn’t get anything from you but stern and short answers.

Cillian waited another minute or two before following you so that he wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

You waited for him in the front of the cinema with a big smile on your face.

‘You choose the worst movies’ Cillian said with a cheeky smile.

‘I have been enjoying it so far’ you smirked before taking his hand and pulling him towards the parents’ room.

‘Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea’ Cillian said as you locked the door behind you.

‘Relax, it’s 10pm. No one will need this room until tomorrow. We will be safe. Despite, I know you, this won’t go down any time soon unless we get to it’ you smirked as you placed your hands on Cillian’s crotch before crashing your lips onto his with haste.

Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his jeans and pushed down his zipper before running your hand inside his briefs and stroking his hard cock.

‘You’ve got ten minutes’ you said after breaking the kiss and before turning around, leaning forward over the wash basin.

Within seconds, Cillian lifted up your skirt and pushed down your panties before lining himself up with your wet entrance.

You smiled at him in the mirror as he gently pushed your legs apart and grasped the perky butt cheeks before him.

Cillian pried them apart and stepped forward. He was flush against you and you couldn’t help it but release a soft moan.

His cock slipped between your legs, and the head glided across your sensitive lips.

‘Fuck I want you so much’ you moaned as you pushed back against him in anticipation.

Without words, Cillian pulled back a little and then pushed up into your tight tunnel.

‘Fuck’ you moaned loudly as your walls stretched to fit his length inside you.

‘You got to be quiet’ Cillian whispered from behind you as he began to thrust in and out of you.

He gave you barely a moment to brace yourself before he gripped your hips and pulled back. His cock slipped out almost the whole way before he thrust his hips forward and dived back into your heat.

Cillian set a hard pace, knowing that you didn’t have much time together before someone would get suspicious.

You could hear his laboured breathing behind you as you held onto the basin tightly.

‘God yes’ you moaned quietly as the tip of his cock hit your cervix over and over again.

Cillian smiled at your reaction and reached down to grab your thighs. He spread your legs even wider. By that time, you were on your toes, with no leverage of your own.

‘Don’t stop’ you whispered as you could feel another orgasm build up in your stomach and, within seconds, your walls constricted around him.

You cried out a little too loudly, and your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you.

Cillian kept his brutal thrusts up as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Your legs trembled before him and he smiled as you whimpered with every thrust.

The contractions around his cock and your moans sent Cillian over the edge also and, shortly after you came down from your high, he reached his and filled you with his warm cum.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned quietly as he slowly began to relax, his face resting on the back of your shoulders, kissing them gently.

After he came down completely, he pulled out of you and you could feel the mixture of his cum and yours drip down your thighs.

Cillian handed you a paper towel but you declined the offer and simply pulled up your panties.

‘I like to remember this for the rest of the night’ you grinned before giving him another passionate kiss.

Your comment earned you a chuckle but, deep down inside, Cillian liked the thought of knowing that your panties will be wet from his cum for the remainder of the night.

After making sure that no one was around, you left the room together and made your way back to the theatre together.

‘You’ve been gone for a while. Is everything alright?’ Jeremy asked as you sat back down next to him.

‘Yeah, I had to make a phone call’ you said just as Cillian sat back down next to you.

You both had a cheeky grin on your face as you watched the rest of the movie.

‘The movie was great, wasn’t it?’ your friend Alice asked as you left the theatre and Jeremy agreed simply because he knew that you chose it.

‘What did you think about the twist towards the end Cilly?’ she then asked.

‘Yeah, uhm…yeah it was alright’ Cillian said, not knowing what she was talking about.

‘There was a twist?’ you whispered to Cillian as you walked outside the theatre.

‘I think we missed the majority of the plot babe’ Cillian whispered back before taking your hand into his and following the others to the pub.

Jeremy kept starring at you and Cillian and you could notice the frustration on his face. You enjoyed it, a lot.

Later at the pub, Cillian received the usual attention from some young females. It always made you chuckle but it really annoyed Jeremy.

Despite the fact that Cillian enjoyed Jeremy getting annoyed, it soon became too much for him and, after about three drinks, you both decided to leave.

Getting Down to Business

You called a taxi and drove back to Cillian’s house.

‘It’s unbelievable’ you giggled sheepishly and slightly tipsy from the three gin and tonics you had earlier.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked, closing the door behind you.

‘All the attention you get from all of these young women every time we go out’ you said.

‘What can I say, it’s Tommy Shelby Effect’ Cillian laughed.

‘Hmm I think I get it’ you said and, just after this comment, you kissed him passionately just as his sister walked out of the living room.

‘Alright, I am going’ his sister chuckled.

You both thanked her for looking after the children and made your way to the shower. You both smelled like beer and popcorn.

Just as you got into the large shower together and were talking about the evening, Cillian couldn’t help it but complain about Jeremy.

‘You know, I am yours Cillian!’ you said as you ran your hands over his chest.

‘You are mine, are you?’ he chuckled in response to your comment which reminded him on his script for Season 5 of Peaky Blinders.

‘Yes…’ you whispered into his ear just before biting his earlobe gently while the hot water ran down in between you.

Cillian’s hands soon moved from your back down to your naked butt cheeks while his lips kissed the bare skin on your neck.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said in between kisses.

‘I love you too Cillian and I want you to fuck me as if you own me’ you whispered. ‘Take me the way you want to’ you added seductively.

‘You’ve been watching too much of this TV show’ Cillian said with a chuckle, referring to a new TV documentary series that you were watching on Netflix about BDSM.

‘It’s intriguing though, isn’t it?’ you asked running your hands over Cillian’s chest and down in between his legs. He grew hard almost instantly as you touched him.

Your face was inches away from his and you could see pure hunger and lust aflame in his eyes as you were stroking him gently. His warm breath fanned over your face like an aphrodisiac and the want in his eyes was intoxicating.

He remembered the last episode of the documentary quite well and grabbed your hair at the back of your head gently, causing the hot water to run down your breasts.

You bit your lip with excitement, fire building up in your eyes.

‘You really want to try this don’t you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright’ he sighed with a smile and, with his free arm, he pushed you onto your knees almost instantly.

That’s it, exactly what you wanted.

He pulled on your hair, making you look up at him while you were biting your lips.

You suddenly felt a wretch in your stomach. Cillian wasn’t normally that forceful with you and you knew that, for him, it was a roleplay more than anything. Being with an actor clearly had its perks.

‘Is this what you want?’ he asked, causing you to nod again.

With his hand still firmly in your hair, he guided your mouth towards his hard cock.

You open your mouth willingly and, within one thrust, the head of his hard cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

You didn’t even try to pull away and he slowly and deeply began to thrust in and out of your mouth, giving your barely enough time to breath.

You gave into his rhythm as the warm water was running over your back.

‘God, your mouth feels amazing’ Cillian moaned, knowing that you enjoy it when he is talking to you while were intimate. You loved the sound of his voice.

Just as you got used to the sensation of being forced up and down his cock, he began to tweak one of your erect nipples with his free hand, causing you to moan around him.

‘Good girl, keep going’ Cillian said with a slight smirk as he toys with your nipple, pulling and rolling it between his fingers.

The pit of your stomach was set aflame and your thighs were slick with your juices.

With his cock in your mouth and your nipples being aroused, you are under sensory overload.

As he continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, you closed your eyes trying to concentrate on the raw pleasure that was radiating from your body in waves.

‘Look at me’ he demanded, causing you to open your eyes again and dig your hands into his thighs as he kept going.

‘That’s it’ he moaned, thrusting into your mouth a few more times before pulling you away from his throbbing cock and your mouth comes off with a satisfying pop.

Some small tears were running down your cheeks, your mouth sore from opening so widely and your hair was still in his hands. He roughly wiped away the saliva around your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat gently.

You looked up into his blue eyes and wanted nothing more than for him to take you, fuck you hard.

‘Common, let’s take this to the bedroom’ he said as he began to notice the water getting cold.

‘Yes sir’ you winked, earning him a chuckle.

‘You defiantly are serious, aren’t you?’ Cillian said as you dried each other off. He was slightly out of his comfort zone but decided to play along as he could see the desire in your eyes. You were by far the most adventurous and kinky woman he’s ever been with.

Moments later, you made your way to Cillian’s bedroom.

‘I don’t think so’ Cillian said firmly as you reached the edge of the bed.

With his hand on your throat gently again and the other on your waist, he guided you towards the large reading desk in the bedroom.

‘Turn around’ he instructed and, as soon as you complied, he pushed you down onto the table.

Just as you your face leaned against the cold wood, he took both of your arms and secured both your hands behind your back.

Electricity shot down your spine as you tried to struggle out of his grasp teasingly.

You were completely under his control just as you wanted.

He put your two wrists wrapped around one hand and with the other, slowly traced a finger up your inner thigh.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

Cillian took his time, exploring every inch of your thighs and ass.

‘So sexy’ Cillian said as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, causing you to whimper.

He continued to run his fingers up and down your pussy, teasing to put his fingers in.

You whined and struggled against his grasp, your wetness started trailing down your thighs.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as Cillian slowly eased his fingers inside, scissoring his fingers as he went.

‘Shh’ Cillian said, knowing that you had to remain quiet with the boys in the next room.

Your mind went blank as pleasure shot through your nerves, spreading like wildfire.

Cillian’s fingers swirled around inside of you languidly, leaving no space unexplored and, moments later, he brushed against your g-spot causing you to jerk.

‘Stay still’ he said as he pressed his body down, immobilizing yours.

He knew very well that you liked to squirm when he reached your sweet spot as the intensity was too overpowering.

This time, you wouldn’t get away, no matter how hard you try.

‘Oh god Cillian, please’ you yelped, the feeling of his fingers on your g-spot being too much for you to handle.

But Cillian wouldn’t let you squirm away and you soon learned that you had to just give in, surrender to him.

But, just as you relaxed and could feel your orgasm approach, he pulled his fingers out of you.

‘Did I say you could come?’ he teased as he placed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste your wet juices.

‘No sorry’ you said, hoping that he would put his fingers back inside of you.

‘Sorry what?’ Cillian asked sheepishly.

‘Sorry Sir’ you grinned just before you ran your tongue along the length of his fingers.

‘Good girl’ he whispered just as he trailed his fingers back down towards your wet entrance.

Within seconds, they entered you again and continued where they left off.

You tried hard not to come right away and, after several more minutes, you couldn’t control it any longer.

‘Cillian please, can I come?’ you moaned, your walls already beginning to contract around his fingers.

‘No Y/N, you cannot’ he said, withdrawing his fingers once again, pulling your head back on your hair and kissing you passionately.

Just as he pushed you back down, you could feel him line himself up with your entrance.

Your hands were still pinned behind your back as he pressed the tip of his cock into you slowly. Your walls clench instinctively.

‘Don’t you dare come until I’ve given you permission’ he murmured into your ear as he pushes into you torturously slow.

‘I promise I won’t come without permission’ you said as you could feel Cillian’s body against yours and his hands gripping over your hands pinned behind your back and your hair.

‘Good girl’ he whispered as he continued to push inside you slowly until he was completely inside.

You tried to wriggle so you could adjust to his size, but Cillian held you in place. He slowly moved out until only the tip remained inside and thrusts back in deeply.

You moaned loudly into the table as he continued his rhythm, fucking you slowly but deeply. Your mind blanks, pleasure rocking through your body.

You could feel him tighten his grip over your hands as he slowly pulls out and slams into you, eliciting a yelp.

‘Yes, oh god, yes’ you moaned loudly as he began to pick up the pace, knocking you almost breathless.

Your moans caused Cillian to place one of his hands over your mouth gently. You were way too loud.

You felt like a wound-up toy, yearning to be released from the tension. With every thrust, you come closer to your orgasm. He's hitting you fast and deeply, but not enough to send your over the edge. You whine and whimper, weakly struggling against his body. You are so close, teetering on a cliff.

‘Please’ you moaned into his, desperate for your release.

‘Please what?’ Cillian asked as he thrusts in and out of you and removing his hand for just one moment to allow you to speak.

‘Please let me come’ you responded.

‘You will need to do better than that’ Cillian said as he thrusts into you even deeper.

‘I do anything, please’ you moaned, your walls beginning to clench around him.

‘Anything? Hmm, alright, that seems like a fair deal’ Cillian said picking up the speed.

With those words, you let go. Pleasure rocked through your body like a wave.

You tried to fight the feeling of falling and flying at the same time as your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian moaned at the same time as he felt your tight walls close around his cock and, with three more thrusts, he came inside of you.

You could feel his cock throb inside of you as your legs shake from the powerful orgasm.

Just as you both came down from your high, he slowly pulled out of you, causing some of his cum to leak out.

He released your hands and helped you up from the desk.

You turned around to face him and, with one of your hands, you reached in between your legs collecting some of his cum before licking it from your fingers suggestively.

‘I enjoyed this’ you smirked, causing Cillian to stare at you in disbelieve.

‘You are naughty, aren’t you?’ he chuckled just before giving you a kiss.

‘Yes I am’ you smirked before you both made your way to the bed.

By that time you were exhausted.

You curled up in each other’s arms and shared some gentle moments together.

‘I am looking forward to sleeping in this bed with you every night’ you said.

‘So do I’ Cillian responded, before turning off the light.

Morning After

The next morning, you got woken up by the smell of pancakes and three missed calls.

Your father had tried to call you to congratulate Max on his recent soccer medal.

You returned the call and handed the phone to Max while you joined Cillian in the kitchen for a coffee. Just as you were drinking your coffee, you listened to Max speak to his grandfather on speaker.

‘So how have you been Max?’ grandpa asked.

‘Good poppy, we are having pancakes’ Max said.

‘Mum made pancakes? Do they taste any good?’ grandpa laughed.

‘No Cillian made pancakes. Mum and I are moving to his house soon and then we can have pancakes every weekend’ Max said.

‘Cillian? Who is Cillian?’ grandpa asked.

‘Mum’s boyfriend’ Max responded, causing you to choke on your coffee.

‘Can you please put your mother on the phone’ he said.

To be continued…..

‘

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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awhitehead17 · 3 years

Text

Batfam Alphabet: K - Kryptonian’s

Summary: After noticing how everyone is busy meeting up with someone who is either a Kryptonian or even a Kent that day, Dick notices how he’s the only one in the family that doesn’t have a Kryptonian partner.

Enjoy! :D

“C’mon Damian, let’s go! We’re going to be late!”

Dick pauses from where he’s walking through the foyer and looks up to find Tim shouting for their younger brother as he hurries down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom the teenager rushes to the door and throws it open and impatiently waits in the doorway as he checks his watch every few seconds.

Raising an eyebrow, Dick glances at the top of the stairs but doesn’t find any sign of Damian. He turns back to Tim. “What’s the rush?”

Tim blinks and stares at him for a moment like he’s just noticing Dick’s presence for the first time. With his eyes flicking to and fro Tim huffs in annoyance and taps his foot restlessly. “We’re meeting Conner and Jon at Amusement Mile but we’re running late because a certain someone can’t apparently keep track of the time!”

Dick frowns, suddenly feeling concerned for his brothers’ safety. “Is going there a wise idea?”

With a wave of his hand Tim dismisses his concern. “It’ll be fine. At the end of the day we’re all trained and it’s only a phone call away if anything does happen. Kon and Jon are there so if we do need an emergency evac we can get out of there quickly.”

Before Dick could respond a new voice joins the conversation.

“We have plenty of time Drake, don’t be so impatient.”

Both Dick and Tim look up to find Damian now descending down the stairs at a leisurely pace, obviously not in such a hurry as Tim is. Dick wonders if Damian is doing it purposely to annoy Tim or because they do have a lot of time to spare and Tim is just being overly-cautious.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little early or even on time brat.” Tim snaps at him, glaring as Damian reaches the bottom of the staircase. “Now come on, we’re wasting time.”

Without even so much a goodbye Tim spins around and hurries out the door once Damian approaches. Damian tuts but follows behind Tim saying “Bye Grayson” as he passes Dick on the way out of the door.

It takes Dick a moment to react, his mind catching up with the fact that Damian and Tim are hanging out together, seemingly willingly with one other. He blinks and shouts after them, “don’t kill one another! Stay safe and remember to call if anything happens!”

Neither brother responds to him but Dick rationalises he’s done what he could, if something happens between them he is not to blame. Maybe he should message Conner to ask him to check in and to make sure they behave. The Kryptonian brothers get along unlike Tim and Damian so his caution is reasonable as them two together is certainly a questionable matter. In the end he decides against it, instead choosing to wait and see what the end result of the day looks like.

Eventually he shuts the front door and continues on his way with what he had been doing before the sudden distraction.

------

Dick’s route through the foyer is interrupted again not even an hour later, only this time because of the group of girls gathered there. Dick stops and stares at the scene unsure on how to proceed, should he make his way through them or go around them?

Steph, Cass, Barbara and even Kara are grouped together giggling about something. Seeing three of them together is rather normal but he is surprised to see Kara around.

Before Dick could decide on what action to take he’s spotted by Steph. The blonde waves enthusiastically at him. “Hey Dick! How are things? Don’t mind us we’re moving to the media room now.”

The other girls turn and face him. Cass and Kara give him a smile and a small wave in greeting while Barbara shoots him a bland look. He wouldn’t expect anything else from her.

As Dick is about to move he’s stopped short by Kara addressing him. She points up to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “Dick, is it true that you used to often climb up there and hang from it?”

Dick glances up and his mind is suddenly ambushed with fond memories of when he was a kid and used to do acrobatics from said chandelier. Alfred used to give him hell for it, particularly after he accidently broke one when he got a bit too bold trying a new move.

He smiles and looks back at Kara nodding. “Yeah, that’s true. More often than you would think believe it or not. I did it less frequently as I got older though.”

Kara snorts with amusement. “I can totally see Jon doing something like that, rao, even Conner would try something like that.”

“Considering who they’re friends with, that doesn’t surprise me.” Steph comments laughing. “Well lets get to it! See you later Dick!”

Steph takes off down the corridor towards the media room with a bounce in her step. Kara sends him one more smile and follows her, Cass comes up to him and stands on her tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek before following them and finally Barbara sends him a wistful smile before trailing behind the girls, clearly also remembering what he used to be like back then.

Once they disappear from view it takes Dick a moment to move, his mind thinking about what just happened. He didn’t even realise they were friends with Kara. He doesn’t even know how they know each other, then again he doesn’t follow every move the girls make, they’ve probably had cases that have crossed over a time or two. Shaking his head he lets it go and continues on with his day.

----

When Dick bumps into Bruce in the kitchen later on that day he feels like there’s a pattern forming.

He’s sat at the kitchen island minding his own business as he eats his lunch and mindlessly going through Facebook, Alfred is pottering about also minding his own business, when Bruce rushes in looking a little frazzled.

Dick watches mollified as Bruce darts about the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards left right and centre clearly looking for something which he doesn’t find straight away. As soon as he came in, Alfred simply stood to the side and allowed Bruce to freely search the place patiently waiting for the inevitable to happen.

After searching every cupboard and draw available Bruce turns to Alfred and before the man could say anything Alfred simply holds out his hand revealing a travel mug. Bruce suddenly looks so relieved and gratefully takes the mug out of the butler’s hand with a breathless “thank you”.

“You are a saint Alfred, there’s no way I’m going to be able to cope today without this.” Bruce determines already taking a sip of the mug’s contents.

Dick blinks, completely lost to what’s happening, especially when all Alfred does is nod as he had been expecting that reaction the entire time.

“What is going on?” He blurts out without meaning too. The two men turn and face him, Alfred looking passive and Bruce looking surprised at his presence. Has Dick become invisible or something? That’s the same reaction Tim had that morning in the foyer.

“Oh, afternoon Dick, I completely missed you sat there.” Bruce says looking a little sheepish, a look that isn’t common on the man though Dick’s seen it more than enough times at this point in his life. “I have a meeting with Clark and the rest of the League members. I’m running a bit behind schedule but not enough to not grab my coffee before heading off. I won’t be back until late, don’t wait for me before going out tonight.”

With that statement Bruce leaves the kitchen with the travel mug clutched tightly in his hands. Dick shoots Alfred a surprised look but the elderly man has already turned around and continued with his task.

Sighing Dick turns his attention back on his half eaten lunch and goes back to scrolling through his Facebook newsfeed. Quickly getting bored of it, he places his phone down and strikes up a conversation with Alfred, the man appears more than happy to converse with him as he works.

After a while Alfred breaks their conversation, sending Dick an apologetic look. “I’m sorry Master Dick but I’m going to have to excuse myself. I have a scheduled phone call to make in a few moments.”

Dick stares, caught off guard by the reason. “What? Who with?” After he says it he realises how bad and how patronizing it sounds. He immediately winces and apologises.

Alfred merely looks amused at his behaviour, thankfully not taking any offense to it. “If you have to know Master Dick, I have a call with Mrs Martha Kent. We’re going to be comparing recipes and giving some recommendations.”

“Okay…”

Alfred leaves the kitchen then, leaving Dick all by himself in the room as his mind reels back over the last hour or so to what’s happened. Is everyone busy today or something?

Finally finishing his lunch, Dick clears his mess up and wanders out of the kitchen trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day.

-----

The next thing to happen which adds to the odd feeling he’s been having throughout the day is when he bumps into Selina in the corridor of the bedrooms wing. He’s heading towards his own room when he notices Selina strutting her way towards him.

His eyes widen as he takes in her outfit. She’s wearing a low cut black blouse paired off with tight leather pants and high heels. She’s wearing a golden necklace with matching bracelets on her wrists and her face done up with perfect looking make-up. The shadowing around her eyes make them stand out along with the boldness of her lipstick which helps define her facial features.

Dick stops in his tracks and watches as she approaches. When she’s close enough she stops and sends him a smile.

“Hot date?” Dick asks with a grin. He can’t help but be curious on why she’s dressed up like that. Bruce isn’t around and there’s no party that he’s aware of happening. Unless she plans on crashing the meeting Bruce happens to be in, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened…

Her smiles turns more devious, “Not quite birdie,” she drawls out. She places her hands on her hips and cocks them to one side. “I’m meeting with Lois Lane. There’s a certain… get together we’re attending and I tend to make a statement.”

Dick’s eyes widen in surprise, he hadn’t been expecting that. He knows that Selina and Lois know one another, he’s seen them interact with each other enough times at gala’s both Bruce and Clark have attended too but he didn’t know they were that close.

After a couple beats he sends her an easy smile. “Well, I’m certain you’re going to make a statement alright.”

“Thank you kitten,” she replies patting his cheek softly, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.” She saunters past him, continuing down the hallway clearly ready to kick some ass. Selina is the personification of the saying ‘looks can be deceiving’.

“Have fun!” Dick calls out to her retreating form.

As he enters his room Dick is struck by a thought that even Selina is busy that day. It’s really starting to appear that he's the only one without any plans or even someone to meet up with. It suddenly makes him feel lonely, it’s an irrational feeling but he couldn’t help feel it temporarily, maybe it’s jealously of his family all currently hanging out with someone or each other. It’ll soon pass when everyone is back home and skulking around looking for stuff to do out of boredom.

----

Half an hour later and Dick knows he's had enough. It seems like the last straw has been drawn and how the universe has decided to rub salt into the wound.

Dick’s not even out of his bedroom doorway before he’s stopping short at the sight of two beings walking past him. He blinks and looks down the hallway with furrowed eyebrows and seconds later it registers who he’s seeing.

“Jason?”

His brother stops in the middle of the hallway and turns around to face him. He looks surprised for a moment before his expression goes back to neutral. “Oh, hey Dick.”

“What are you doing?” He questions his brother, his gaze slipping to Jason’s companion. Bizarro stands next to Jason, his eyes drifting between the two of them as he watches them interact with a frown.

Jason jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “We’re heading out now as we’re about to meet Artemis.”

Dick runs a hand over his face taking in the new information. “How long has Bizarro been here?”

His brother sends him perplexed look. “Uh, like all day? Did you not know that?”

“No. No I didn’t.”

“Oh,” Jason shrugs, not bothered by his answer, “well whatever. As I said we’re heading out now, so see ya! Say bye bye, Bizarro.”

“Bye bye.” Bizarro calls out to him with a wave of his hand.

Dick half heartedly waves back as he watches them disappear down the hallway. Once they were gone Dick slips back into his room and shuts the door behind him, completely forgetting the original reason why he had been leaving in the first place.

He goes over to his bed and flops down on it with a heavy sigh. Jason, even Jason, is busy and has company. How is it only him who isn’t doing anything? Usually it’s the other way around, where he’s always trying to find time in his schedule to meet up with his friends, family or to have some time for himself.

Burying his face into his pillow he sighs dejectedly, feeling sorry for himself. Dick frowns, maybe that’s not the right term, would jealously be more accurate or maybe loneliness is better suited. Whatever the word is for what he’s feeling, he knows it’s pretty much unwarranted. He should be happy that all of his siblings and extended family are out being sociable, they all have hectic and unpredictable lives, taking any free time a person has to spend it with those they care about is worth it.

Dick shouldn’t be annoyed with his family because he’s the one currently holed up in his bedroom sulking because he doesn’t have anyone to be with. It’s not their fault.

Something else he notices is how everyone seems to have their own Kryptonian, or by extension a Kent.

There's Bruce and Clark, though Bruce will deny their friendship at every opportunity. Tim and Conner, who are best friends (maybe more, Dick’s not quite sure). Damian and Jon, as much as the former is reluctant to admit how much he cares for the younger. Steph, Cass, Barbara and Kara who are all apparently friends. Selina and Lois. Alfred and Mrs Kent. Jason and Bizarro.

He’s the only one without a Kryptonian partner. While he’s worked with Clark a few times and has connected with him, after all Clark’s the one who inspired him to become Nightwing, it’s not the same thing.

After spewing in his thoughts for a while, Dick comes to a conclusion that sleep sounds like the best option right now. If he sleeps then he’s not thinking, and as a bonus at the same time his body is resting and extra rest never hurts anyone.

He shifts on his mattress, getting into a more comfortable position to sleep in, and buries his head further into his pillow. Closing his eyes he tries to force his body into unconsciousness. His eyes snap open only seconds later when his phone pings from it’s place on his bedside table.

Stuck between being excited for a message and dreading it, Dick reaches out and grabs the device. Rolling over onto his back he lifts his phone up in front of his face and reads the notification. Seeing who the message is from, a wide grin stretches across Dick’s face and any dread he had been feeling instantly disappears. It seems like the universe has finally decided to side with him (or that it’s had enough of him moping) because it’s a message from his long time old friend Wally West.

‘Hey man it’s been waaaayyyyyy too long. Are you free to hang out any time soon – we need to catch up bro.’

Dick agrees with the message, it has been too long since they last saw one another. From what Dick heard last is how Wally’s been busy helping out in Central City, his relationship with Linda is progressing smoothly, he’s been helping to train his cousin and how he’s been away on a mission with Jay. Dick had thought Wally was still away, hence why he hadn’t contacted him but obviously he’s wrong about that.

Dick types out a reply to his friend, feeling eager and excited to meet up. ‘I’m free right now if you are. C’mon over to the Manor when you can?’

It takes a few moments for Wally to respond. ‘Absolutely. Though will Bats have my ass if I just show up?’

Dick snorts, of all the things to be concerned about… ‘No. You’re fine. B’s in a meeting.’

‘Okay! I’ll be there in a flash ;D’

It’s stupid but Dick couldn’t help chuckle at the poor joke. No doubts on how Wally’s picked up that behaviour from Barry.

Feeling jittery, Dick rolls off his bed and begins making his way downstairs so he could greet Wally by the door. He doesn’t know what they’ll do other than talk to catch up and possibly raid the kitchen at the same time. Dick doesn’t mind what they do, at least he finally has someone to hang out with!

Just as Dick reaches the bottom of the stairs in the foyer, the doorbell rings alerting him of Wally’s arrival. Dick grins as he approaches the door and it only gets wider when he opens it to reveal his best friend standing there on the front porch.

“Wal-man! How’s it going dude!” He exclaims stepping towards the speedster.

Wally’s gaze snaps to him and an identical grin appears on his face. “Dick, it’s so good to see you man!”

They come together and embrace tightly with a few firm pats on the back. They part after a few beats and then take a moment to observe one another. Dick is pleased to find Wally appearing the same as he did when he last saw him, looking happy and healthy.

“So…” Wally trails off when the silence gets drawn out for too long.

“So.” Dick repeats promptly. Getting himself together, he continues to grin and throws an arm around his friend’s shoulders, using that leverage he guides Wally into the house. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

Wally’s own arm wraps around Dick’s back as they pass through the foyer. “That we do. I can’t even remember when the last time I saw you was.”

With his free hand Dick waves the comment away. “Doesn’t matter, we’re here now. Shall we grab some food and go to my room? I would suggest the media room but the girls are currently inhabiting it, have been all day, alternatively we could go to the conservatory or even outside since it’s dry and warm.”

Wally hums for a moment before answering. “Food is a definite must, you know me – hey has Alfred cooked recently, any chance we could steal some leftovers? And your room sounds fine, at least there’ll be less chance of us being disturbed by one of your millions of siblings.”

Dick rolls his eyes at the comment though he carries on smiling, some days it really does feel like he has a million. Will Bruce ever learn the meaning of ‘no more’?

“I have no idea what Alfred has in the kitchen so we shall see when we get there.” Dick says smiling.

The two of them fall into an easy stream of chatter as they begin catching up with what’s going on in their lives.

As they chat Dick thinks to himself, why was he so bothered that his family members all have their own Kryptonian when he has his own speedster? A couple of them also have a speedster but not everyone so Dick can hold onto this, at least that’s what he’s rationalising to himself. Thinking back on it, Dick realises that it’s stupid, why should he be concerned about it at all? He's now with his best friend, that’s what matters and that’s exactly what he's going to focus on.

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Note

hello i have fallen i love with your charlie fic (❤❤!!) and i want to ask if you could you write some angst where barnaby has a crush on mc and they're super oblivious and later they start dating someone else ans barnaby realizes he lost them?

My dearest anon, let me say: I AM SORRY. Writing your ask took me forever (literally, lol) even though I had it in my head the moment I got your asks all those months ago. But I never felt the right inspiration to actually write it down until today. Today it just hit me. I do hope you're actually still around and reading what I made out of it.

I'm really truly sorry. 😅

So, without further ado, I present to you:

Missed Chances

Barnaby Lee x Reader

Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

He was by no means dumb, he just wasn’t as clever or booksmart as most of his peers, a fact he was well aware of. But it didn’t bother him that much, really. He had found his means of getting by during classes and ever since distancing himself from Merula Snyde back in their third year, he had been able to gather a circle of friends around him he could fall back upon.

There was popular Penny Haywood for Potions, shy but gifted Ben Copper for Charms, and ever so patient Rowan Khanna when he had troubles with Transfiguration.

Barnaby’s favourite study sessions, however, were those for Defense Against The Dark Arts. Not because he was particularly bad at the subject; on the contrary, he was a skilled duelist and most charms and jinxes came naturally to him. No, the real reason those lessons were his favourite was because it was you who was teaching him.

Ever since he’d been drawn into your close circle of friends, his above average DADA marks had been plummeting, since he kept getting distracted during class. The professors weren’t impressed but neither surprised at his apparent lack of academic skills and under normal circumstances, Barnaby would have tried everything in his power to prove them wrong, that he could do better, that he wasn’t as stupid as everyone made him out to be.

But when you offered your help in catching up on the subject, Barnaby had changed his mind. You were always top of your DADA class and what better way to spend some time alone with you while listening to your beautiful voice explaining the differences between a curse and a hex.

Barnaby knew most of the things you were telling him already, so he had ample time to just watch you talk during your study sessions. He knew no one else could get so excited over dark creatures and cursed objects like you did. The way your eyes were sparkling when lecturing him on the differences between a werewolf and regular wolf had him enthralled every single time and the proud smile you gave him when he answered one of your questions correctly never failed to make Barnaby’s heart beat hard in his chest.

He would have loved to see that smile more often, but he made sure to let his real knowledge of the subject shine through sparingly. He was afraid that if he got too good, you might want to drop studying with him and that was something he couldn’t risk; spending time with you had become the highlight of his day. No one he knew rivalled the warmth you radiated and the unbroken faith you had in him, a sentiment that was completely new to Barnaby.

When the big news of the Celestial Ball was announced, it was all his peers could talk about. What to wear, how to look and who to bring were the questions dominating all of the four common rooms.

Barnaby never had to think twice who he wanted to be his date for the dance. He thought about how to properly ask you out for days on end; you were no common girl after all. You were the most extraordinary girl he knew and thus deserved an extraordinary invitation. But when he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, you looked at him sheepishly.

“That’s so sweet of you, Barney. I’m so flattered, really. But I already promised Rowan and Ben to go with them. You know, just as friends.”

His heart sank at the words. Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Maybe people were right about him being stupid after all.

Seeing his disheartened look, your face changed into something softer. “But I’m sure Rowan and Ben wouldn’t mind if you came along with us? As another friend?”

Barnaby beamed at her. “I’d love that. We’re going to have such a great time together, as friends,” he added, not quite sure whom he wanted to reassure, you or himself.

He would probably never forget the night of the Celestial Ball when he saw you in the dress André Egwu had designed for the first time. Rowan and Ben had arrived at the ball before you and when you stepped into the Great Hall all on your own, Barnaby’s breath stopped for a moment.

You were dressed in a beautiful, burgundy dress with intricate patterns embroidered around the neckline. Your waist was accentuated by a small belt and the skirt of your dress flowed around you in several layers of fabric. You looked like an ethereal being to him as you walked through the crowd over to him, Rowan and Ben, your skirt trailing slightly behind you.

His eyes didn’t leave you for the whole evening even for a second. He could hear you laughing when you danced with Rowan and Ben, the sound like silver bells to his ears. When he asked you for a dance with him, your hand just happened to fit perfectly into his and your bright smile made Barnaby forget everything else around you and him. He did take great care to not step on your dress, however. You looked so perfect, he didn’t want to ruin it with his own clumsiness; although he pretty much doubted anything could have taken away from your beauty.

When the Celestial Ball was over, Barnaby took the chance to walk you back to your common room. You had your arm linked with his and marched in step with him. As he was taller than you, it required some effort on your part, the strange walking rhythm making you giggle. The sound had Barnaby’s heart beat faster.

Barnaby was almost reluctant to let you go when you had reached the concealed entrance to your common room. He wasn’t quite sure what to do; all he wanted to do was put his arms around you, drawing you as close to him as possible and never letting go again. But he hesitated; what if you didn’t feel the same?

To gain some time, he cleared his throat. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” you smiled at him. “I’m glad you came along. You just have the most fun with your friends, right?”

The word ‘friends’ put a damper on the butterflies that had been swarming in Barnaby’s stomach until this point.

“Yes, friends,” he echoed, “because we’re friends.”

A look of confusion crossed your face for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” Barnaby lied quickly, glad that the flickering light of the torches hid the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Just exhausted from dancing, I guess.”

“Oh, alright. I’d better get to my common room then. Good night.”

There was a short, awkward pause, before you smiled at him, waved and vanished into your common room. Barnaby sighed; at least for night, he had definitely botched his chances.

Ever since the Celestial Ball and the anticlimax of its ending, Barnaby had made it his mission to convince you there was more to him than being your friend. He’d ventured into the library on his own and gathered together all books on romance he could find and read every single one of them. Most of them, especially the older ones, had given him quite some headaches, but he knew you enjoyed reading old love stories, so maybe they had some useful information to offer. How someone could spend their free time reading things like Jane Austen for fun, however, remained a mystery to him.

And apparently, the tips he had sourced weren’t that helpful either. Barnaby tried it all, he complimented you, he brought you flowers and small gifts that reminded him of you and tried connecting with you over things he knew you loved. Whenever he saw the chance to ask you out he tried. But as soon as he had gathered his courage, you had already promised one of your numerous friends to go with them instead. It was exasperating, really.

All the while, the study sessions with you continued. Barnaby had stopped pretending to be as oblivious as he made himself out to be in the beginning; he knew it was risky, in case you might want to drop studying with him if he got better, but he was too addicted to your smile at this point. No matter how hard his day had been, a smile from you and everything else was forgotten.

Barnaby wished you would finally notice just how much he adored you, but as long as he could spend time with you, listen to your voice and hear your laughter, everything was fine with him.

Until it was not.

He had noticed you were distracted lately and not as talkative as he was used to. Today’s Potions class was no exception. Professor Snape, who was even moodier than usual, was lecturing the class on the importance of knowing potion recipes by heart.

“You will not always carry a textbook with you,” he droned, “and while I wouldn’t trust half of you to brew a potion even with proper instructions, maybe some of you will be able to produce something remotely resembling a proper concoction by sheer luck. If I see one piece of parchment on the table, you will clean your classmates’ cauldrons after class. Begin.”

Dreading the next two hours of guessing which ingredients to use in what order, Barnaby glanced over to you. But you hadn’t been listening to the instructions, it seemed. Your attention was focused on a piece of parchment in front of you, hastily scribbled lines running across it. Barnaby tried catching a glimpse but when you noticed, you blushed deeply and quickly covered the parchment with your hand.

Barnaby, however, wasn’t the only one who had noticed the piece of parchment. Before you could do anything, Professor Snape had appeared next to you and snatched the parchment out of your grip.

“I thought I said no notes allowed, or didn’t I express myself clearly enough for your convenience?” he snarled.

“No, Professor, you misunderstand,” you gasped, “these aren’t Potions notes, it’s private. Can I please have it back?”

You reached for it, but Snape jerked his hand up so it was just out of reach. “That gives it even less reason to be present in my classroom,” he said coldly, a cruel smile stealing onto his face. “Let us share with the rest of the class what is distracting you from my lesson.”

Your cheeks were glowing bright red as Snape started reading the content of your note.

“Do you like me? Yes or No. Circle your answer,” he read out loud. “How droll,” he sneered over the chuckle of your classmates, “I suggest, next time you concentrate more on your potion and less on your silly personal bearings. Perhaps the result will be more decent then. 10 points from you and detention tonight.”

As he swept past your table, Barnaby noticed your hanging head. You had your hands clasped tightly together in your lap and seemed so small all of a sudden that he felt furious. Even though Snape was his head of house, he had no right whatsoever to embarrass you in front of everyone like that.

“Are you okay?” he asked you gently.

Not looking at him, you shook his head. “Why did he have to do that?” you whispered. “He could see I wasn’t taking notes. There was no need to read it out loud.”

“There wasn’t,” Barnaby agreed. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and lightly placing his hand on your arm. “He’s just a big, old, mean bat. Everyone says so.”

You sniffed, a small smile already spreading on your face again. “That’s true. Thank you.” You covered his hand with yours and squeezed it lightly. The touch sent jolts of energy through Barnaby from where your hands connected. His skin was still tingling when you turned towards your cauldron again, breaking the contact.

“Who was your note for, anyway?” Barnaby asked, trying not to sound as if this wasn’t the question burning red hot on his mind.

You looked at him wide-eyed. “I can’t possibly tell you.”

“Why not? Do I know him?”

Blushing again, you could only nod before dropping your gaze.

“It’s someone I’ve been friends with for a while now, but I don’t know if he feels the same. I don’t want to ruin our friendship by making a stupid move.”

Barnaby held his breath. You couldn’t possibly be talking about him, could you?

“How could it ruin your friendship?” he asked. “If he’s your friend, he’s your friend and nothing can change that.”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe you should just tell him,” he said deliberately casually, “who knows, maybe that friend of yours has been feeling the same for some time now, too.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “You think so?”

Barnaby nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Just try your luck, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

After the class was over and you had parted ways for the rest of the day, Barnaby counted the minutes until the evening when you had agreed to meet for another study session before your detention. He was positively bouncing with energy ever since lunchtime. You had come over to him with a nervous smile on your lips to ask him to meet up with you later.

“Chances are, I’ll need to tell you something,” you had said with a shaky laugh before joining your other friends for lunch. Barnaby had swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to look unfazed, but his insides had been burning with impatience ever since.

That was why he had arrived earlier than usual at the library that evening. He picked all the books out you would be needing and stacked and restacked them several times at the table you were usually working on.

It felt like an eternity until you finally entered the library, each second dragging into an eternity of its own. Barnaby saw you first. You stood in the entrance to the grand room and all of a sudden the library seemed to be a little brighter just by you being there. You scanned the rows of bookshelves with your eyes and a wide smile appeared on your face as they fell on him, waiting for you between books and quills in your favourite spot.

You quickly bounded over to him, a spring in your step that was a stark contrast to the miserable mood you had been in this morning. Before Barnaby even had a chance to ask what made you so happy, you had flung your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

On instinct, Barnaby put his arms around your waist and held you for a sweet moment that he wished would last forever. He could smell the flowery scent of your perfume and breathed it in deeply, trying to commit every last detail of how you felt in his arms to memory. He was sure you had to feel his heartbeat; how could you not with how hard it was hammering against his ribcage?

“He said yes, Barney! He really said yes!” you squealed, not caring one bit about Madam Pince’s indignant shush.

The sheer happiness coursing through his veins turned into ice that froze him from the inside in a matter of seconds. Confused, he loosened his hold on you and pushed you far enough away from him to look you in the face. The joy visible on it almost broke his heart.

“What?”

“My crush!” you beamed at him. “I followed your advice and asked him out, just now! And he said yes!” you repeated, hugging him again.

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” you said. Barnaby could feel your breath on the skin exposed by the open collar of his shirt. He hated himself for the shiver running down his spine.

“Why?” was all he managed to whisper in response.

“Because without you, I’d never have the courage to talk to him upfront. It’s all thanks to you that I have a date now. You’re really the best friend I could ask for.”

Every word you spoke was like a dagger pushed up to the hilt into his broken heart, every second he saw you smile at the prospect of going out with the boy you wanted to be with - the boy that wasn’t him - a twist of the blade until he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. His heart, that had beaten so wildly just moments before when he had held you in his arms, could have stopped beating right there and then; Barnaby doubted it would have felt much different to the consuming emptiness he felt at this very moment.

You were rambling on and on about where you wanted to take your date and what you would wear but Barnaby wasn’t listening. He didn’t even know who you were talking about; all he knew was that it wasn’t him and that thought was louder in his head than your words could ever be.

“What do you think of that?”

Barnaby realised you had come to the end of your explanations and expected an opinion from him. He forced himself to smile apologetically at you, when all he wanted to do was scream.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he croaked out.

Your brow creased. “Are you okay? You’re so pale all of a sudden.”

“I’m good,” Barnaby answered with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and started again. “I’m good, I just caught a cold, I think. I should go see Madam Pomfrey later.”

You made a sceptical sound and raised one eyebrow. “If you say so. So what do you think? Is Madam Puddyfoot’s Tea Shop a good idea or not?”

Barnaby had never heard of this tea shop before, but he’d go to Knockturn Alley for a date if it only was with you. “It doesn’t matter where you take him. He’s lucky he gets to go with someone like you in the first place.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I’m just happy you’re happy,” Barnaby said and even meant it, in a way. He just wished the source of your happiness was him and not somebody else.

You hugged him once again and he was glad that you couldn’t see the pained expression crossing his features for a moment. “You’re the best, Barney. I’m so glad to have you in my life.”

You let go and turned towards the table laden with books Barnaby had so carefully set up. “Shall we?”

He sat down with you and watched as you started taking out your notes on objects cursed with minor jinxes. Your eyes were sparkling even more than usual and even now, you were so beautiful to Barnaby it hurt.

With a sigh, he concentrated on what you had to say for a change. His time spent daydreaming about you was over for good now, so he might as well do what the two of you were here for and study.

No, Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

But even he knew that when it came to you, he had missed too many chances.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #barnaby lee #anon ask #fun fact #this is exactly what happened in game for my mc lizzie #went to the celestial ball with barnaby #and ditched him afterwards #whoops #and for talbott of all people #because yknow #that old let us date the quidditch kids discussion #but we're not getting into that now

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unpopularwiththepopulace · 3 years

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A retrospective on some of Broadway’s most important female costume designers across the last century

How much is our memory or perception of a production influenced by the manner in which we visually comprehend the characters for their physical appearance and attire? A lot.

How much attention in memory is often dedicated to celebrating the costume designers who create the visual forms we remember? Comparatively, not much.

Delving through the New York Public Library archives of late, I found I was able to zoom into pictures of productions like Sunday in the Park with George at a magnitude greater than before.

In doing so, I noticed myself marvelling at finer details on the costumes that simply aren’t visible from grainy 1985 proshots, or other lower resolution images.

And marvel I did.

At first, I began to set out to address the contributions made to the show by designer Patricia Zipprodt in collaboration with Ann Hould-Ward. Quickly I fell into a (rather substantial) tangent rabbit hole – concerning over a century’s worth of interconnected designers who are responsible for hundreds of some of the most memorable Broadway shows between them.

It is impossible to look at the work of just one or two of these women without also discussing the others that came before them or were inspired by them.

Journey with me then if you will on this retrospective endeavour to explore the work and legacy that some of these designers have created, and some of the contexts in which they did so.

A set of podcasts featuring Ann Hould-Ward, including Behind the Curtain (Ep. 229) and Broadway Nation (Eps. 17 and 18), invaluably introduce some of the information discussed here and, most crucially, provide a first-hand, verbal link back to this history. The latter show sets out the case for a “succession of dynamic women that goes back to the earliest days of the Broadway musical and continues right up to today”, all of whom “were mentored by one or more of the great [designers] before them, [all] became Tony award-winning [stars] in their own right, and [all] have passed on the [craft] to the next generation.”

A chronological, linear descendancy links these designers across multiple centuries, starting in 1880 with Aline Bernstein, then moving to Irene Sharaff, then to Patricia Zipprodt, then to the present day with Ann Hould-Ward. Other designers branch from or interact with this linear chronology in different ways, such as Florence Klotz and Ann Roth – who, like Patricia Zipprodt, were also mentored by Aline Bernstein – or Theoni V. Aldredge, who stands apart from this connected tree, but whose career closely parallels the chronology of its central portion. There were, of course, many other designers and women also working within this era that provided even further momentous contributions to the world of costume design, but in this piece, the focus will remain primarily on these seven figures.

As the main creditor of the designs for Sunday in the Park with George, let’s start with Patricia (Pat) Zipprodt.

Born in 1925, Pat studied at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in New York after winning a scholarship there in 1951. Through teaching herself “all of costume history by studying materials at the New York Public Library”, she passed her entrance exam to the United Scenic Artists Union in 1954. This itself was a feat only possible through Aline Bernstein’s pioneering steps in demanding and starting female acceptance into this same union for the first time just under 30 years previously.

Pat made her individual costume design debut a year after assisting Irene Sharaff on Happy Hunting in 1956 – Ethel Merman’s last new Broadway credit. Of the more than 50 shows she subsequently designed, some of Pat’s most significant musicals include: She Loves Me (1963) Fiddler on the Roof (1964) Cabaret (1966) Zorba (1968) 1776 (1969) Pippin (1972) Mack & Mabel (1974) Chicago (1975) Alice in Wonderland (1983) Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Sweet Charity (1986) Into the Woods (1987) - preliminary work

Other notable play credits included: The Little Foxes (1967) The Glass Menagerie (1983) Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1990)

Yes. One person designed all of those shows. Many of the most beloved pieces in modern musical theatre history. Somewhat baffling.

Her work notably earned her 11 Tony nominations, 3 wins, an induction into the Theatre Hall of Fame in 1992, and the Irene Sharaff award for lifetime achievement in costume design in 1997.

By 1983, Pat was one of the most well-respected designers of her era. When the offer for Sunday in the Park with George came in, she was less than enamoured by being confined to the ill-suited basements at Playwright’s Horizons all day, designing full costumes for a story not even yet in existence. From-the-ground-up workshops are common now, but at the time, Sunday was one of the first of its kind.

Rather than flatly declining, she asked Ann Hould-Ward, previously her assistant and intern who had now been designing for 2-3 years on her own, if she was interested in collaborating. She was. The two divided the designing between them, like Pat creating Bernadette’s opening pink and white dress, and Ann her final red and purple dress.

Which indeed leads to the question of the infamous creation worn in the opening number. No attemptedly comprehensive look at the costumes in Sunday would be complete without addressing it or its masterful mechanics.

To enable Bernadette to spring miraculously and seemingly effortlessly from her outer confines, Ann and Pat enlisted the help of a man with a “Theatre Magics” company in Ohio. Dubbed ‘The Iron Dress’, the gasp-inducing motion required a wire frame embedded into the material, entities called ‘moonwalker legs and feet’, and two garage door openers coming up through the stage to lever the two halves apart. The mechanism – highly impressive in its periods of functionality – wasn’t without its flaws. Ann recalls “there were nights during previews where [Bernadette] couldn’t get out of the dress”. Or worse, a night where “the dress closed up completely. And it wouldn’t open up again!”. As Bernadette finished her number, there was nothing else within her power she could do, so she simply “grabbed it under her arm and carried it off stage.”

What visuals. Evidently, the course of costume design is not always plain sailing.

This sentiment is exhibited in the fact design work is a physical materialisation of other creators’ visions, thus foregrounding the tricky need for collaboration and compromise. This is at once a skill, very much part of the job description, and not always pleasant – in navigating any divides between one’s own ideas and those of other people.

Sunday in the Park with George was no exception in requiring such a moment of compromise and revision. With the show already on Broadway in previews, Stephen Sondheim decreed the little girl Louise’s dress “needs to be white” – not the “turquoisey blue” undertone Pat and Ann had already created it with. White, to better spotlight the painting’s centre.

Requests for alterations are easier to comprehend when they are done with equanimity and have justification. Sondheim said he would pay for the new dress himself, and in Seurat’s original painting, the little girl is very brightly the focal centre point of the piece. On this occasion, all agreed that Sondheim was “absolutely right”. A new dress was made.

Other artistic differences aren’t always as amicable.

In Pat Zipprodt’s first show, Happy Hunting with Ethel Merman in 1956, some creatives and directors were getting in vociferous, progress-stopping arguments over a dress and a scene in which Ethel was to jump over a fence. Then magically, the dress went missing. Pat was working at the time as an assistant to the senior Irene Sharaff, and Pat herself was the one to find the dress the next morning. It was in the basement. Covered in black and wholly unwearable. Sharaff had spray painted the dress black in protest against the “bickering”. Indeed, Sharaff disappeared, not to be seen again until the show arrived on Broadway.

Those that worked with her soon found that Sharaff was one to be listened to and respected – as Hal Prince did during West Side Story. After the show opened in 1957, Hal replaced her 40 pairs of meticulously created and individually dyed, battered, and re-dyed jeans with off-the-rack copies. His reasoning was this: “How foolish to be wasting money when we can make a promotional arrangement with Levi Strauss to supply blue jeans free for program credit?” A year later, he looked at their show, and wondered “What’s happened?”

What had happened was that the production had lost its spark and noticeable portions of its beauty, vibrancy, and subtle individuality. Sharaff’s unique creations quickly returned, and Hal had learned his lesson. By the time Sharaff’s mentee, Pat, had “designed the most expensive rags for the company to wear” with this same idiosyncratic dyeing process for Fiddler on the Roof in 1964, Hal recognised the value of this particularity and the disproportionately large payoff even ostensibly simple garments can bring.

Irene Sharaff is remembered as one of the greatest designers ever. Born in 1910, she was mentored by Aline Bernstein, first assisting her on 1928’s original staging of Hedda Gabler.

Throughout her 56 year career, she designed more than 52 Broadway musicals. Some particularly memorable entities include: The Boys from Syracuse (1938) Lady in the Dark (1943) Candide (1956) Happy Hunting (1956) Sweet Charity (1966) The King and I (1951, 1956) West Side Story (1957, 1961) Funny Girl (1964, 1968)

For the last three productions, she would reprise her work on Broadway in the subsequent and indelibly enduring film adaptations of the same shows.

Her work in the theatre earned her 6 Tony nominations and 1 win, though her work in Hollywood was perhaps even more well rewarded – earning 5 Academy Awards from a total of 15 nominations.

Some of Sharaff’s additional film credits included: Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) Ziegfeld Follies (1946) An American in Paris (1951) Call Me Madam (1953) A Star is Born (1954) – partial Guys and Dolls (1955) Cleopatra (1963) Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) Hello Dolly! (1969) Mommie Dearest (1981)

It’s a remarkable list. But it is too more than just a list.

Famously, Judy’s red scarlet ballgown in Meet Me in St. Louis was termed the “most sophisticated costume [she’d] yet worn on the screen.”

It has been written that Sharaff’s “last film was probably the only bad one on which she worked,” – the infamous pillar of camp culture, Mommie Dearest, in 1981 – “but its perpetrators knew that to recreate the Hollywood of Joan Crawford, it required an artist who understood the particular glamour of the Crawford era.” And at the time, there were very few – if any – who could fill that requirement better than Irene Sharaff.

The 1963 production of Cleopatra is perhaps an even more infamous endeavour. Notoriously fraught with problems, the film was at that point the most expensive ever made. It nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox, in light of varying issues like long production delays, a revolving carousel of directors, the beginning of the infamous Burton/Taylor affair and resulting media storm, and bouts of Elizabeth’s ill-health that “nearly killed her”. In that turbulent environment, Sharaff is highlighted as one of the figures instrumental in the film’s eventual completion – “adjusting Elizabeth Taylor’s costumes when her weight fluctuated overnight” so the world finally received the visual spectacle they were all ardently anticipating.

But even beyond that, Sharaff’s work had impacts more significantly and extensively than the immediate products of the shows or films themselves. Within a few years of her “vibrant Thai silk costumes for ‘The King and I’ in 1951, …silk became Thailand’s best-known export.” Her designs changed the entire economic landscape of the country.

It’s little wonder that in that era, Sharaff was known as “one of the most sought-after and highest-paid people in her profession.” With discussions and favourable comparisions alongside none other than Old Hollywood’s most beloved designer, Edith Head, Irene deserves her place in history to be recognised as one of the foremost significant pillars of the design world.

In this respected position, Irene Sharaff was able to pass on her knowledge by mentoring others too as well as Patricia Zipprodt, like Ann Roth and Florence Klotz, who have in turn gone on to further have their own highly commendable successes in the industry.

Florence “Flossie” Klotz, born in 1920, is the only Broadway costume designer to have won six Tony awards. She did so, all of them for musicals, and all of them directed by Hal Prince, in a marker of their long and meaningful collaboration.

Indeed, Flossie’s life partner was Ruth Mitchell – Hal’s long-time assistant, and herself legendary stage manager, associate director and producer of over 43 shows. Together, Flossie and Ruth were dubbed a “power couple of Broadway”.

Flossie’s shows with Hal included: Follies (1971) A Little Night Music (1973) Pacific Overtures (1976) Grind (1985) Kiss of the Spiderwoman (1993) Show Boat (1995)

And additional shows amongst her credits extend to: Side by Side by Sondheim (1977) On the Twentieth Century (1978) The Little Foxes (1981) A Doll’s Life (1982) Jerry’s Girls (1985)

Earlier in her career, she would first find her footing as an assistant designer on some of the Golden Age’s most pivotal shows like: The King and I (1951) Pal Joey (1952) Silk Stockings (1955) Carousel (1957) The Sound of Music (1959)

The original production of Follies marked the first time Florence was seriously recognised for her work. Before this point, she was not yet anywhere close to being considered as having broken into the ranks of Broadway’s “reigning designers” of that era. Follies changed matters, providing both an indication of the talent of her work to come, and creating history in being commended for producing some of the “best costumes to be seen on Broadway” in recent memory – as Clive Barnes wrote in The New York Times. Fuller discussion is merited given that the costumes of Follies are always one of the show’s central points of debate and have been crucial to the reception of the original production as well as every single revival that has followed in the 50 years since.

In this instance, Ted Chapin would record from his book ‘Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’ how “the costumes were so opulent, they put the show over-budget.” Moreover, that “talking about the show years later, [Florence] said the costumes could not be made today. ‘Not only would they cost upwards of $2 million, but we used fabrics from England that aren’t even made anymore.’” Broadway then does indeed no longer look like Broadway now.

This “surreal tableau” Flossie created, including “three-foot-high ostrich feather headdresses, Marie Antoinette wigs adorned with musical instruments and birdcages, and gowns embellished with translucent butterfly wings”, remains arguably one of the most impressive and jaw-dropping spectacles to have ever graced a Broadway stage even to this day.

As for Ann Roth, born in 1931, she is still to this day making her own history – recently becoming the joint eldest nominee at 89 for an Oscar (her 5th), for her work on 2020′s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Now as of April 26th, Ann has just made history even further by becoming the oldest woman to win a competitive Academy Award ever. She has an impressive array of Hollywood credits to her name in addition to a roster of Broadway design projects, which have earned her 12 Tony nominations.

Some of her work in the theatre includes: The Women (1973) The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1978) They're Playing Our Song (1979) Singin' in the Rain (1985) Present Laughter (1996) Hedda Gabler (2009) A Raisin in the Sun (2014) Shuffle Along (2016) The Prom (2018)

Making her way over to Hollywood in the ‘70s, she has left an indelible and lasting visual impact on the arts through films like: Klute (1971) The Goodbye Girl (1977) Hair (1979) 9 to 5 (1980) Silkwood (1983) Postcards from the Edge (1990) The Birdcage (1996) The Hours (2002) Mamma Mia! (2008) Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (2020)

It’s clear from this branching 'tree' to see how far the impact of just one woman passing on her time and knowledge to others who are starting out can spread.

This art of acting as a conduit for valuable insights was something Irene Sharaff had learned from her own mentor and predecessor, Aline Bernstein. Aline was viewed as “the first woman in the [US] to gain prominence in the male-dominated field of set and costume design,” and was too a strong proponent of passing on the unique knowledge she had acquired as a pioneer and forerunner in the field.

Born in 1880, Bernstein is recognised as “one of the first theatrical designers in New York to make sets and costumes entirely from scratch and craft moving sets” while Broadway was still very much in its infancy of taking shape as the world we know today. This she did for more than one hundred shows over decades of her work in the theatre. These shows included the spectacular Grand Street Follies (1924-27), and original premier productions of plays like some of the following: Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler (1928) J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan (1928) Grand Hotel (1930) Phillip Barry’s Animal Kingdom (1932) Chekov’s The Seagull (1937) Both Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour (1934) and The Little Foxes (1939)

Beyond direct design work, Bernstein founded what was to become the Neighbourhood Playhouse (the notable New York acting school) and was influential in the “Little Theatre movement that sprung up across America in 1910”. These were the “forerunners of the non-profit theatres we see today” and she continued to work in this realm even after moving into commercial theatre.

Bernstein also established the Museum of Costume Art, which later became the Costume Institute of the Met Museum of Art, where she served as president from 1944 to her death in 1955. This is what the Met Gala raises money for every year. So for long as you have the world’s biggest celebrities parading up and down red carpets in high fashion pieces, you have Aline Bernstein to remember – as none of that would be happening without her.

During the last fifteen years of her life, Bernstein taught and served as a consultant in theatre programs at academic institutions including Yale, Harvard, and Vassar – keen to connect the community and facilitate an exchange of wisdom and information to new descendants and the next generation.

Many designers came somewhere out of this linear descendancy. One notable exception, with no American mentor, was Theoni V. Aldredge. Born in 1922 and trained in Greece, Theoni emigrated to the US, met her husband, Tom Aldredge – himself of Into the Woods and theatre notoriety – and went on to design more than 100 Broadway shows. For her work, she earned 3 Tony wins from 11 nominations from projects such as: Anyone Can Whistle (1964) A Chorus Line (1975) Annie (1977) Barnum (1980) 42nd Street (1980) Woman of the Year (1981) Dreamgirls (1981) La Cage aux Folles (1983) The Rink (1984)

One of the main features that typify Theoni’s design style and could be attributed to a certain unique and distinctive “European flair” is her strong use of vibrant colour. This is a sentiment instantly apparent in looking longitudinally at some of her work.

In Ann Hould-Ward’s words, Theoni speaks to the “great generosity” of this profession. Theoni went out of her way to call Ann apropos of nothing early in the morning at some unknown hotel just after Ann won her first Tony for Beauty and the Beast in 1994, purring “Dahhling, I told you so!” These were women that had their disagreements, yes, but ultimately shared their knowledge and congratulated each other for their successes.

Similar anecdotal goodwill can be found in Pat Zipprodt’s call to Ann on the night of the 1987 Tony’s – where Ann was nominated for Into the Woods – with Pat singing “Have wonderful night! You’re not gonna win! …[laugh] but I love you anyway!”

This well-wishing phone call is all the more poignant considering Pat was originally involved with doing the costumes for Into the Woods, in reprise of their previous collaboration on Sunday in the Park with George.

If, for example, Theoni instinctively is remembered for bright colour, one of the features that Pat is first remembered for is her dedicated approach to research for her designs. Indeed, the New York Public Library archives document how the remaining physical evidence of this research she conducted is “particularly thorough” in the section on Into the Woods. Before the show finally hit Broadway in 1987 with Ann Hould-Ward’s designs, records show Pat had done extensive investigation herself into materials, ideas and prospective creations all through 1986.

Both Ann and Pat worked on the show out of town in try-outs at the Old Globe theatre in San Diego. But when it came to negotiating Broadway contracts, the situation became “tricky” and later “untenable” with Pat and the producers. Ann was “allowed to step in and design” the show alone instead.

The lack of harboured resentment on Patricia’s behalf speaks to her character and the pair’s relationship, such that Ann still considered her “my dear and beloved friend” for over 25 years, and was “at [Pat’s] bed when she died”.

Though they parted ways ultimately for Into the Woods, you can very much feel a continuation between their work on Sunday in the Park with George a few years previously, especially considering how tactile the designs appear in both shows. This tactility is something the shows’ book writer and director, James Lapine, was specific about. Lapine would remark in his initial ideas and inspirations that he wanted a graphic quality to the costumes on this occasion, like “so many sketches of the fairy-tales do”.

Ann fed that sentiment through her final creations, with a wide variety of materials and textures being used across the whole show – like “ribbons with ribbons seamed through them”, “all sorts of applique”, “frothy organzas and rembriodered organzas”. A specific example documents how Joanna Gleason’s shawl as the Baker’s Wife was pieced together, cut apart, and put back together again before resembling its final form.

This highly involved principle demonstrates another manner of inventive design that uses a different method but maintains the aim of particularity as discussed previously with Patricia and Irene’s complex dyeing and re-dyeing process. Pushing the confines of what is possible with the materials at hand to create a variety of colours, shades, and textures ultimately produces visual entities that are complex to look at. Confusing the eye like this “holds attention longer”, Ann maintains, which makes viewers look more intricately at individual segments of the production, and enables the costume design to guide specific focus by not immediately ceding attention elsewhere.

Understanding the methods behind the resultant impacts of a show can be as, if not more, important and interesting than the final product of the show itself sometimes. A phone call Ann had last August with James Lapine reminds us this is a notion we may be treated more to in the imminent future, when he called to enquire as to the location of some design sketches for the book he is working on (Putting It Together: How Stephen Sondheim and I Created 'Sunday in the Park with George') to document more thoroughly the genesis of the pair’s landmark and beloved musical.

In continuation of the notion that origin stories contain their own intrinsic value beyond any final product, Ann first became Pat’s intern through a heart-warming and tenacious tale. Ann sent letters to three notable designers when finishing graduate school. Only Patricia Zipprodt replied, with a message to say she “didn’t have anything now but let me think about it and maybe in the future.” It got to the future, and Ann took the encouragement of her previous response to try and contact Pat again. Upon being told she was out of town with a show, Ann proceeded to chase Pat through various phone books and telephone wires across different states and theatres until she finally found her. She was bolstered by the specifics of their call and ran off the phone to write an imploring note – hinging on the premise of a shared connection to Montana. She took an arrow, stabbed it through a cowboy hat, put it in a box with the note that was written on raw hide, and mailed it to New York with bated breath and all of her hopes and wishes.

Pat was knife-edgingly close to missing the box, through a matter of circumstance and timing. Importantly, she didn’t. Ann got a response, and it boded well: “Alright alright alright! You can come to New York!”

Subsequently, Ann’s long career in the design world of the theatre has included notable credits such as: Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Into the Woods (1987, 1997) Falsettos (1992) Beauty and the Beast (1994, 1997) Little Me (1998) Company (2006) Road Show (2008) The People in the Picture (2011) Merrily We Roll Along (1985, 1990, 2012, segment in Six by Sondheim 2013) Passion (2013) The Visit (2015) The Color Purple (2015) The Prince of Egypt (2021)

From early days in the city sleeping on a piece of foam on a friend’s floor, to working collaboratively alongside Pat, to using what she’d learnt from her mentor in designing whole shows herself, and going on to win prestigious awards for her work – the cycle of the theatre and the importance of handing down wisdom from those who possess it is never more evident.

As Ann summarises it meaningfully, “the theatre is a continuing, changing, evolving, emotional ball”. It’s raw, it’s alive, it needs people, it needs stories, it needs documentation of history to remember all that came before.

In periods where there can physically be no new theatre, it’s made ever the more clear for the need not to forget what value there is in the tales to be told from the past.

Through this retrospective, we’ve seen the tour de force influence of a relatively small handful of women shaping a relatively large portion of the visual scape of some of Broadway’s brightest moments.

But it’s significant to consider how disproportionate this female impact was, in contrast with how massively male dominated the rest of the creative theatre industry has been across the last century.

Assessing variations in attitudes and approaches to relationships and families in these women in the context of their professional careers over this time period presents interesting observations. And indeed, manners in which things have changed over the past hundred years.

As Ann Hould-Ward speaks of her experiences, one of her reflections is how much this was a “very male dominated world”. And one that didn’t accommodate for women with families who also wanted careers. As an intern, she didn’t even feel she could tell Patricia Zipprodt about the existence of her own young child until after 6 months of working with her. With all of these male figures around them, it would be often questioned “How are you going to do the work? How are you going to manage [with a family]?”, and that it was “harder to convince people that you were going to be able to do out-of-towns, to be able to go places.” Simply put, the industry “didn't have many designers who were married with children.”

Patricia herself in the previous generation demonstrates this restricting ethos. “In 1993, Zipprodt married a man whose proposal she had refused some 43 years earlier.” She had just newly graduated college and “she declined [his proposal] and instead moved to New York.” Faced with the family or career conundrum, she chose the latter. By the 1950s, it then wasn’t seen as uncommon to have both, it was seen as impossible.

Her husband died just five years after the pair were married in 1998, as did Patricia herself the following year. One has to wonder if alternative decisions would’ve been made and lives lived differently if she’d experienced a different context for working women in her younger life.

But occupying any space in the theatre at all was only possible because of the efforts of and strides made by women in previous generations.

When Aline Bernstein first started designing for Broadway theatre in 1916, women couldn’t even vote. She became the first female member of the United Scenic Artists of America union in 1926, but only because she was sworn in under the false and male moniker of brother Bernstein. In fact, biographies often centralise on her involvement in a “passionate” extramarital love affair with novelist Thomas Wolfe – disproportionately so for all of her remarkable contributions to the theatrical, charitable and academic worlds, and instead having her life defined through her interactions with men.

As such, it is apparent how any significant interactions with men often had direct implications over a woman’s career, especially in this earlier half of the century. Only in their absence was there comparative capacity to flourish professionally.

Irene Sharaff had no notable relationships with men. She did however have a significant partnership with Chinese-American painter and writer Mai-mai Sze from “the mid-1930s until her death”. Though this was not (nor could not be) publicly recognised or documented at the time, later by close acquaintances the pair would be described as a “devoted couple”, “inseparable”, and as holding “love and admiration for one another [that] was apparent to everyone who knew them.” This manner of relationship for Irene in the context of her career can be theorised as having allowed her the capacity to “reach a level of professional success that would have been unthinkable for most straight women of [her] generation”.

Moving forwards in time, Irene and Mai-mai presently rest where their ashes are buried under “two halves of the same rock” at the entrance to the Music and Meditation Pavilion at Lucy Cavendish College in Cambridge, which was “built following a donation by Sharaff and Sze”. I postulate that this site would make for an interesting slice of history and a perhaps more thought-provoking deviation for tourists away from being shepherded up and down past King’s College on King’s Parade as more usually upon a visit to Cambridge.

In this more modern society at the other end of this linear tree of remarkable designers, options for women to be more open and in control of their personal and professional lives have increased somewhat.

Ann Hould-Ward later in her career would no longer “hide that [she] was a mother”, in fear of not being taken seriously. Rather, she “made a concerted effort to talk about [her] child”, saying “because at that point I had a modicum of success. And I thought it was supportive for other women that I could do this.”

If one aspect passed down between these women in history are details of the craft and knowledge accrued along the way, this statement by Ann represents an alternative facet and direction that teaching of the future can take. Namely, that by showing through example, newer generations will be able to comprehend the feasibility of occupying different options and spaces as professional women. Existing not just as designers, or wives, or mothers, or all, or one – but as people, who possess an immense talent and skill. And that it is now not just possible, but common, to be multifaceted and live the way you want to live while working.

This is not to say all of the restrictions and barriers faced by women in previous generations have been removed, but rather that as we build a larger wealth of history of women acting with autonomy and control to refer back to, things can only get easier to build upon for the future.

Who knows what Broadway and theatre in general will look like when it returns – both on the surface with respect to this facet of costume design, and also more deeply as to the inner machinations of how shows are put together and presented. The largely male environment and the need to tick corporate and commercial boxes will not have vanished. One can only hope that this long period of stasis will have foregrounded the need and, most importantly, provided the time to revaluate the ethos in which shows are often staged, and the ways in which minority groups – like women – are able to work and be successful within the theatre in all of the many shows to come.

Notable sources:

Photographs – predominantly from the New York Public Library digital archives. IBDB – the Internet Broadway Database. Broadway Nation Podcast (Eps. #17 and #18), David Armstrong, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Behind the Curtain: Broadway’s Living Legends Podcast (Ep. #229), Robert W Schneider and Kevin David Thomas, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Sense of Occasion, Harold Prince, 2017. Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’, Ted Chapin, 2003. Finishing the Hat: Collected Lyrics (1954–1981) with Attendant Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines and Anecdotes, Stephen Sondheim, 2010. The Complete Book of 1970s Broadway Musicals, Dan Deitz, 2015. The Complete Book of 1980s Broadway Musicals, Dan Dietz, 2016. Inventory of the Patricia Zipprodt Papers and Designs at the New York Public Library, 2004 – https://www.nypl.org/sites/default/files/archivalcollections/pdf/thezippr.pdf Extravagant Crowd’s Carl Van Vecten’s Portraits of Women, Aline Bernstein – http://brbl-archive.library.yale.edu/exhibitions/cvvpw/gallery/bernstein.html Jewish Heroes & Heroines of America: 150 True Stories of American Jewish Heroism – Aline Bernstein, Seymour Brody, 1996 – https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/aline-bernstein Ann Hould-Ward Talks Original “Into the Woods” Costume Designs, 2016 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EPe77c6xzo&ab_channel=Playbill American Theatre Wing’s Working in the Theatre series, The Design Panel, 1993 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sp-aMQHf-U&t=2167s&ab_channel=AmericanTheatreWing Journal of the History of Ideas Blog, Mai-mai Sze and Irene Sharaff in Public and in Private, Erin McGuirl, 2016 – https://jhiblog.org/2016/05/16/mai-mai-sze-and-irene-sharaff-in-public-and-in-private/ Irene Sharaff’s obituary, The New York Times, Marvine Howe, 1993 – https://www.nytimes.com/1993/08/17/obituaries/irene-sharaff-designer-83-dies-costumes-won-tony-and-oscars.html Obituary: Irene Sharaff, The Independent, David Shipman, 2011 – https://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-irene-sharaff-1463219.html Broadway Design Exchange – Florence Klotz – https://www.broadwaydesignexchange.com/collections/florence-klotz Obituary: Florence Klotz, The New York Times, 2006 – https://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/03/obituaries/03klotz.html

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