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#and I think to myself in a couple years none of this will matters and I won’t care at all about it
medicinemane · 2 months
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Need to learn to sharpen knives or I'll never be able to take care of myself
Like I know the steps, but somehow I just do them wrong, and even following in person instructions from people who know what they're doing... never managed it
(You ever notice how often even really competent people seem to wind up randomly incompetent for no reason, like my uncle who fucking hunts and has used knifes pretty much all his life and gave me a sharpening stone... suddenly seemingly not knowing how to sharpen knives and like... I don't get how he just... suddenly seemed confused and like he didn't know it despite the fact I know he knows how to do it... and it's not like I think he was trying to pull something over on me... anyway...)
Like, if I can't sharpen knives I can't cook, cause I need a sharp knife to feel safe cooking. I'm not spending a ton of money when what I need is a life long skill, not another knife... all my knives would be good, they just need to be sharp
So I don't know... another skill I really need to pick up by May
#this is why I think new years resolutions are stupid; why would I resolve to do something on new years?#I came to realize that there's a lot I need to have ready by May; so that just means I now need to have it ready by May#there's no resolution; there's just a requirement#and there's no need for new years; unless that was the day I realize a requirement why wouldn't I just say it on the day I need it#there's no prize for doing a new years resolution; so there's no point#there's only tasks I realize I need to do; and my fight against being a useless lazy stupid worthless monstrosity so I can get things done#tasks come up and I resolve to do them#but it's not something that's some little... ornamental game I hang on the wall#it's just become a thing I'll do; and somehow despite being a useless failure I have no choice but to do it now that I've decided#kinda like how I got the house... just... decided I was gonna get a house; so I didn't stop till I had one#and that's not some kind of magical self made millionaire type bullshit talk#and it's not 'the secret' type slop#I just had resources; I refused to stop looking at options since none were good yet; and I leveraged what I had when the time came#and here it's like the trailer... I will just throw myself against the problem till I somehow solve it in spite of not being capable of it#and if I break then I just keep going as if I'm not and that's how it goes#no more rest or days off or whatever unless it impairs my ability to do more long term#and it's not like I do any real work so like... who needs days off when I'm just fucking around for a couple hours#moving boxes like it makes a difference#don't need a positive attitude either cause if I waited for that I'd never get anything done#might not be healthy to call myself trash; but that's just what I see and I got shit to do and it's not like it matters if I do or don't#not like anyone would stop me anyway; proof is in the fact it's not like anyone is gonna stop me anyway#so I will take a malicious view of myself and my capabilities; and then I'll do it anyway and feel nothing about it#won't even consider it an achievement; that's just descriptive; that's what happens with the trailer#no one was proud and it meant nothing; grandma was mad at me; none of it matter but it was one less bill#and this will be a cleaner house and... let's be honest; person I'm cleaning it for probably won't want to come#even after we meet face to face... just got a feeling... don't think they read the tags so I'll be honest that while...#while I believe them that they like me and we're friends; boy does it feel like I just annoy them and they can't stand me most of the time#doesn't matter; I need a cleaner house no matter what; just saying I know I'll feel no joy or pride and neither will anyone else for me#should blow my worthless brains out; but good to clean shit first so next person has less work to do#I'm not up to any task but... got no choice; shit's gotta get done to stand a chance of helping out people I like... not that they want it
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insanechayne · 8 months
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#I hate that I still think about you even when I don’t want to#I hate that I still check obsessively for your messages for hours on end and get so excited seeing that notification pop up#I hate that I still have feelings for you even though I’m trying to get rid of them#I hate that I’m struggling to move on and you did it like it was nothing#I hate that I feel like I’m not giving my all to my girlfriend or doing enough in my relationship#I hate that I hang on your every word like a life preserver#I hate that you still get my heart racing every day just by talking to me#I hate that I feel so stuck and don’t know what to do to get out of your spiral#I don’t want to make this your problem because that’ll just start another huge fight#I don’t want to risk pushing you so far away I never get you back#I can’t say any of this to my girlfriend because I know it would make her feel awful and ruin our relationship#I don’t know how to explain it to my therapist and besides he thinks I already cut you off anyway#why is this still so hard? we haven’t flirted or anything since April#I think maybe I’m still waiting for closure in a sense#things ended so abruptly before and we barely talked through any of it unless it was through little arguments or me being overbearing#so it’s like I never got official closure… idk like a discussion or a last time or something like that I guess#I know none of that should be needed but my shit brain is saying that’s what it wants/needs#I just don’t know how to talk to you about any of this because the second I bring it up there’ll be a problem#ugh I just feel like I’m trapped in these stupid thoughts and feelings and I hate it#and I think to myself in a couple years none of this will matters and I won’t care at all about it#I pray that that’s the case but I also need that shit to hurry up and get here now#personal
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emma-needs-attention · 4 months
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I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.
And it makes me feel terrible.
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I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.
And it made me feel terrible.
I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.
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If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?
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I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.
I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?
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But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?
I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?
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As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.
But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.
I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.
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For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?
I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.
Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.
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Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.
I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.
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audhdnight · 8 months
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Just thinking about the common experience of late diagnosed disabled people of “the normal amount of pain is none” and how we’re just supposed to know that despite *some* level of pain being OUR normal for our entire lives, even if it’s usually not super bad it’s just always there.
Thinking about how, when I told my mother this, she asked me “So what’s hurt?” Which is very different than “what hurts?”
I looked at her, confused. “Nothing is hurt. I just hurt.”
And she says “But where do you hurt?”
“Well, right now it’s my stomach and my ankles-“
She cuts me off. “So you twisted your ankle?”
“No,” I say. “My ankles just hurt. I’ve been walking today.”
Now it’s her turn to look confused. “Just walking doesn’t make your ankles hurt. You must have sprained them or something.”
But I shake my head. “Nope. This just happens on days when I walk more than a little bit. My ankles hurt first, then my knees by lunch time. And if I don’t take a nap and stay on my feet all day, my hips will be hurting too.”
“Oh.”
Joint pain is my normal. Sometimes, if I barely walk all day, the ache in my ankles is barely noticeable and doesn’t affect my functioning because I’m used to it. If I do what most able-bodied people would consider to be a “normal” amount of walking, almost all of my joints will hurt by supper. If I have to wash dishes or run any errands, I’ll hurt so bad I can’t walk for the rest of the day.
Then there’s the chronic migraine attacks. I used to have them multiple times a week as a child, and no matter how I explained myself, nobody ever understood that they weren’t just headaches. I experienced those too, and frequently, but they were not the same. Thankfully, at the age of eleven, I found an article explaining migraine triggers. I was able to identify a few of my own triggers, and the frequency of my migraine attacks reduced to maybe a couple a month. For a few years I was basically on cloud nine, I’d never experienced such a lack of pain before and it was so freeing. Unfortunately, migraine is a progressive condition, so the attacks have gotten more frequent over the years.
And then there’s the “random” pains. Some mornings I wake up and my stomach hurts. Or my chest. Or my back. These are just things I have to live with, because my body’s connective tissue is… well, for lack of a better word, faulty. And I never knew that other people didn’t experience this, because how could I? We never talked about it. Sometimes I’d hear people complain about back aches and just assume they were like mine. Of course, I knew that injuring yourself could cause muscle aches, obviously. But I just assumed that *most* of the time, other peoples bodies hurt like mine did. I didn’t realize that humans aren’t supposed to “just hurt” without a connected incident.
And when I try to explain this to able bodied people, their response is always the same. “Well, everyone’s back hurts sometimes.” “Everybody gets headaches sometimes.” “You’re not special just because you’re too lazy to walk. I still go to work when I don’t feel good.” And no matter how many times I try to say that No, you don’t get it, I *always* hurt, they still brush me off and dismiss me.
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l1tw1ck · 2 months
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dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕
- 🛸
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No Longer a Mentor
Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader
☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆
After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship
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🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3
CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie
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Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.
He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.
After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.
“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.
“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”
“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.
“I probably haven't what?”
“Had sex…lately……”
You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”
“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”
You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”
“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”
You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”
Dean nods.
You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”
He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.
“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.
“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.
“Too big?”
“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.
“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”
“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.
“Is this your first time with a man?”
“Yeah…”
Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”
“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.
You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”
Dean’s face gets redder.
“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”
He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.
“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”
Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.
“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”
He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”
“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”
Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.
You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.
“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.
“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.
Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”
You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.
Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.
“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.
“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”
You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.
He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.
“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.
Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”
Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”
Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.
“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.
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jellipuff · 3 months
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Pretty.
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Pairing: Sub!Mingyu x reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+, Minors dni!).
Wordcount: 4.2k
Summary: His interest in you was shocking. Star player Mingyu crushing on you? Who knew two years later that calling him pretty was all that was needed for him to fall deeper and who knew for him to get his way all he had to be was pretty? Short answer: you both knew.
Warnings: sub!mingyu!!, established relationship, football player mingyu, idk if this is gn!reader but i don’t think i mention anything too gender-related, Slight pwp, this is literally just reader fingerfucking Gyu with a side of fluff, anal play (m receiving), he's so spoiled, and a lil slutty, reader records them, slight exhibitionism(no one walks in but there are people in the house while they do this), mingyu just can't be quiet no matter how much he tries to say he can :(, reader teases gyu bc he’s cute, he just wants to be called pretty 24/7. (i think that's it?)
A/n: this is my first time writing in forever & my first time writing for svt. I can barely find any sub!svt fics especially mingyu so I thought let me write em myself 🙄. I hope its okay though LOL. also if you don't like it, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)
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You and Mingyu have been together since sophomore year. You both go to the same college and shared a few classes that year. Classes that weren't too important but important enough for it to affect your grade, school is just like that.
You heard about him in freshman year. He was admired by those around him for his athleticism in football. Quickly becoming one of the best players resulting in him being liked by not only his team but others as well. You didn't really know him then though, not caring to honestly. He was a wonderful football player, the crowd around him either being the same or being interested in it. 
Oh, and interested in him.  
Mingyu is a stunner, his looks giving him many opportunities in more ways than one. You would hear about how good in bed he was from people talking a bit too loudly in a library. When you’d go to parties with your friends you'd also see how people would try to get his attention. You’d watch as women threw themselves at him in hopes of being the one he takes to bed that night.
So you could see how you were surprised when he seemed to show interest in you.
You're not knocking yourself, you're beautiful and your personality shines just as much. It's just you and mingyu don't seem to have any compatibility if the things you know about him are anything to go by. “He manhandled me so well”, “Our first date was to see the new Fast & Furious.”, “He's so handsome.”
Sure none of those things are bad per se. You just know yourself well enough to know that when you think about mingyu just a little longer than you should that you want to manhandle him.
That if you were to go on a first date you'd want to take him to a cat cafe just to see how this puppy of a man would interact with them. That when you look at mingyu you know he is handsome but you can only seem to think he’s so pretty. 
When you got paired together in two of your classes for a project you didn't know if you were fine with it or not. You don't know his work ethic or how his grades are, he shows up to class every day but does he actually care about his grades?
Though as he smiled brightly on his way over to you when your names were called together for the second time that day, you didn't seem to care too much about any of those things.
“Seems like fate huh?” he says with a grin as he sits by you. “What does?” you ask while pulling up a blank PowerPoint. “Us being a couple.” he says flirtatiously and you can't help but give him a look. “You mean us being project partners.” you reprimand but he waves you off.
“Same thing as what I said, either way, it happened twice. So that means it's fate.” he says taking your pink glitter pen to write both your names on the paper you were given. You watch as he draws a little smiling puppy and then a grumpy cat side by side underneath. He turns to you with a pretty smile, pleased at his artwork.
“Look it's us! You’re the grumpy cat.” he giggles and you think if he weren't so cute you'd tell him to find a different partner. Yet you don't tell him that nor do you tell him that this professor only allows blue or black ink.
You think that's the first time you realized maybe you got mingyu all wrong. Maybe he isn't just a jock who watches Fast and Furious and is strong in bed. You also realize this another time. 
You and mingyu were doing your meet-up at his place. When he told you he has roommates you almost wanted to cancel on him. An apartment lived in by men sadly only filled your mind with overthinking.
What if it stunk? What if his room was messy? What if his roommates were creepy? You'd like to think mingyu wouldn't let them be weird toward you and that sedates your worries slightly. 
As you walk into his place though you’re met with the smell of food cooking and shouting in the living room. Walking in further you see a game of Mario Kart being played and the smell is from the spaghetti being cooked by a man who smiles when he sees Mingyu. 
The atmosphere was nice, leaving you to relax a bit from before. Mingyu introduced you to them all, telling them you're going into his room to work on a project not to fuck as his friend Seungkwan had joked. The way mingyu seemed to be flustered at his friend's joke is what leaves you amused.
The thought of him getting shy at being accused of something he is apparently good at and known for is cute. You learn the man cooking is Joshua, and you compliment him on the smell. He laughs; thanking you before saying “For once Mingyu’s crush has good taste.” he teases and Mingyu freezes. 
He looks at you with wide eyes cheeks flushing at Joshua's slip of the tongue. “He’s just joking like he jokes like that a lot you know.” he hurries to say and you feel amused. “Uh huh.” you reply and Mingyu feels the need to make you believe he does not like you because what if you find that weird? You haven't shown interest in him at all.
“Yeah, he's dumb you know cause like I could never have a crush on you so what is he even saying?” he finishes with an awkward laugh. He doesn't see the way your smile falls and the way Joshua watches the whole thing unfold in horror. Feeling the need to check if his tall friend hit his head somewhere.
When mingyu does look back at you though he's met with a look he can't read but one that makes him feel like he wants to sink into the floor. “Let's just get this over with okay?” you say coldly and he feels like crying.
Sure he can handle heavy tackles, can handle sometimes getting bad grades, and can handle everyone thinking of him in ways that he isn’t. Right here and right now though? Mingyu realizes he can't handle feeling anything from you that isn't your usual warm sarcasm or soft smile. He realizes that seeing you dismiss him so seriously hurts him, it makes him small in a bad way. 
So when you both get to his room and work in silence he thinks he'd rather die from embarrassment at the confession he's going to give than die from the pain of having you not glance his way once in the past hour. 
“Um..you know I didn't mean that.” You don't look up when you hum in confusion instead focusing on the information you’re typing. “When I said that I could never have a crush on you I…I didn’t mean that because I do…have a crush on you.” he admits shyly but he doesn't look away. Needing you to understand that what he said earlier couldn't be further from true. 
For what seems like forever you finally look at him and just your gaze makes his stomach feel funny. You stare at him, watching him try his hardest to not look away. Seeing his hands fidget from you observing him silently.
You think that right now mingyu looks the prettiest he ever has. His eyes not leaving yours to show his sincerity, blush covering from his ears to his cheeks, and knees to his chest. Leaving his feelings on the table must be scary for him. You know how mingyu feels about this.
He’s told you a few times how people always think they know what he likes, how he feels, and what he thinks. So he never says them, and never is honest with those who aren't close to him. Knowing that with others it's more like they set up what he should like, feel, and think. 
Mingyu watches you smile, the warmest one he’s seen from you. Just that alone has him feeling better and then you shock him. “You're so pretty Gyu.” you say with so much admiration he short circuits.
Pretty? You think he's pretty? He's handsome he knows that everyone always tells him that but.. Pretty? Mingyu has never been associated with that and he feels fuzzy at it.
“Pretty?” he questions aloud and you hum with no hesitation “So pretty.” you repeat and mingyu suddenly feels shy, feeling the need to giggle. “You like being called pretty?” you ask endeared and he nods scooting closer to you. “Yeah, I like it.”
─﹒☆﹒─
However, dating mingyu for two years has left you being pleasantly surprised constantly. So when you figure out your boyfriend wants you to take him here with people around, you think for what feels like the millionth time that you’re surprised again.
You hear the laughter and bickering outside of the room. The only thing blocking you from all of the noise is the bedroom door or should you say that the door is the only thing blocking them from you.
Your attention is only focused on the boy who has your shirt fisted tightly as he brings you down to kiss him deeper. You feel him trying to bring his groin closer to your thigh but failing because you keep it too far. He whines again after another failed attempt at feeling something against him. 
You pull back from the kiss with a grin, adoration all you feel for the pretty boy beneath you. “No, want more kisses.” he mewls, trying to pull you back down but you don't budge. “But kisses weren't part of the deal, baby.” You remind him and he looks away annoyed at the agreement he agreed to. 
Here on a trip with your boyfriends teammates, friends and some of their partners was a joy. Loving being able to go with him somewhere different even if it's not too far from home. It's the fun that comes from enjoying time with him and being able to see him be complimented by his team.
His efforts and talent being highlighted always leave him with high cheeks that glow from smiling too hard. They all are happy right now. Winning games back to back with a few struggles they overcame felt like a blessing.
Just like having Mingyu underneath you with his cock leaking from just a few kisses is a blessing.
Having to split up into two Airbnbs leaves you and Mingyu with others in the house. Mingyu knew that yet he kept trying to gain your attention. He knew he already had it but he wanted your attention in another way. 
You first caught onto his little game when he wore a pair of shorts that he knew you loved on him. The way they hug his hips and leave little to imagine at his thighs never fails to make you want to take him right there.
The thing is though Mingyu only wears those in your apartment. He never wears them anywhere else so there would be no need for him to pack them. 
When he noticed you staring at him while he looked through the dresser for something he smiled at you before quickly changing. Saying ‘Oh must have accidentally packed these.” While laughing. Yet the throbbing in your core wasn't funny at all.
“Don't be annoyed baby, you were the one to agree, no?” You ask; sliding his underwear down his legs. “Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be this mean.” You smile, enjoying his sulking.
“Mean? Weren't you the one stringing me along all day baby? Until you finally caved in from your own game. Dragging me to the bathroom just begging for me to play with you. And what did I say?” you question watching his ears flush. 
“You..you said only if you get to do what you want.” he replies, causing you to smile. “Mhmm and you said I could do anything I wanted, touch you wherever I would like. Do you remember where I said I wanted to touch you?” you ask and he goes quiet, feeling shy. 
He doesn’t answer, head still turned away from you. That just won't do, will it? 
You grab his chin, turning his face so he can look at you. “Where did I say I wanted to touch Mingyu?” you repeat harsher. Needing to hear him say it out loud. His eyes stay locked on yours before he says “My butt.” he says quietly and you hum, feeling turned on by how he seems so bashful despite this not being abnormal for you both. 
“Good boy. You dragged me to the bathroom just to be told I want to see you spread open for me. You wanna know why?” he nods, wanting to hear you tell him. Yet he feels so needy he beats you to it. “Cause it's pretty, you said I'm prettiest when I take you well.” he answers for you. 
You pat his cheek before moving down the bed. “That's right baby, so pretty when you're full of me. So pretty when you take anything I give you.”
You wish mingyu would have packed your strap, would have thought to bring at least a dildo in his lust-hazed mind but he didn't. So you'll just have to finger fuck him until you feel satisfied.
You grab the lube that Mingyu didn't forget to pack while leaning down to kiss him. “Color?” you ask and he smiles. “Green, just wish I could take something bigger” he pouts and you laugh softly at the confession. “Then you wouldn't be able to be quiet, so be thankful.” his brows furrow in offense. “I'm not that loud, I can be quiet.” he defends. “Well guess you better prove that now then huh?”
You take his hand in yours before kissing the back of it. You guide his hand underneath his right knee, leaning over to do the same with the left. Tapping his thigh to signal for him to pull them back and hold them closer to himself. He understands quickly, leaving him bare to the cold air and bare to you.
You rub your middle finger on his rim lightly causing him to sigh. Moving to open the lube you apply some to his hole and your fingers. “I'm going to put one in okay baby?” you alert him and he shakes his head. “Two.” you look up at him in disbelief.
“No, I need to prep you, don’t be greedy.” You tell him causing him to whine. “Two! I need something bigger. I can take it, I always take it well.” “Mingyu–” you try to chide. 
“Please love, haven't been full in so long. Need to feel you stretch me, miss it.” he bats his lashes, already knowing he has you where he wants you. All he has to do is say a few sweet words, be pretty, and you’d do anything he requests.
“Just tell me if it hurts okay?” you sigh and he smiles, feeling spoiled. 
You go back to rubbing his hole a few times before stopping. He looks to see why but you don't meet his gaze. Lust clouding your vision. You need to record him, need to make sure you get a  video of him like this. “Gotta film you baby, gotta save it. Is that okay?” you question and he nods.
Loving the feeling of you thinking he’s lovely enough to photograph, lovely enough to be recorded for you to look back on.
You grab your phone from the nightstand before kneeling back on the bed. You open the camera before pressing record. Wasting no time, you slowly inch your two fingers into his hole, watching the way it grips your fingers tightly. You hear Mingyu moan softly, the feeling of you inside him too little but too much at the same time.
“It's pretty?” he asks sweetly and you groan quietly. His warmth surrounds your fingers making your brain feel like it's surrounding you. Making you feel like it's you filling him up, not your fingers, and god how you wish it was.
“Yes baby, it's pretty. All of you is so pretty.” he smiles pulling his legs higher. You point the camera from where your fingers move inside of him up onto his torso and face. Moving faster when you see him look up into the camera.
“Look at you, legs spread wide all for me. What do you think the others would think if they walked in here and saw you like this? Big boy Mingyu, the best player on the team getting his ass played with. Do you think they'd close the door? Or do you think they’d see just how pretty you are?” 
His cock jumps at the thought of everyone thinking he's pretty. He only needs to be pretty for you but the thought of them saying it to him makes him groan. At the thought of his teammates, his eyes leave the camera to look at the door, eyeing the knob hoping it's locked only to see it's not. 
“Oh no, you forgot to lock the door baby? It's almost like you want them to come in.” you accuse and he shakes his head. Hips starting to rock down to meet where your fingers move just a little faster, still much too slow for him. It leaves him wanting, leaves him jumping at every slide he does get to feel of your fingers on his prostate.
He knows you're missing it on purpose. He knows that you’re only hitting it when you want to and that makes him needier. Makes him have to guess which stroke is going to have to make him bite his lip to quiet his sounds.
You lean back pointing the camera to be focused on his hole as you take your fingers out. He whines at the loss, his hole feeling too empty. His cock lays hard against his stomach, tip flushing pretty against his tan skin. You slide three fingers back into him, the third adding a stretch that mingyu craved.
The stinging is so pleasurable it has him moaning your name. You and your touch are the only thing plaguing his mind. 
“You gotta be quiet baby remember? I haven't even touched your dick yet and you're being loud. It's like you want everyone to hear you. Like you want them to walk in and watch.” 
He shakes his head quickly even though his cock jumps at the idea. “No!” he whines. You shake your head in faux disappointment. Lifting the camera to his face, his glossy eyes finding it quickly. “Baby told me he’d be quiet and I believed him. Yet he’s such a slut for his ass being stuffed that he can't shut up.” you chastise.
“I c..can be quiet.” he stutters lowly. “Yeah?” you ask and he nods, going to respond yet cut off by you finding the spot that has his back arching off the bed.
You don't relent your movements only seeming to increase. He can't help but cry out, the sounds leaving him bounce off the walls causing you to feel aflame
“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty.” you groan. He doesn’t answer instead putting his hand over his mouth as you abuse his prostate nonstop, his thighs shaking yet never faltering from their position. “Grab your cock Gyu, don't you think it'd feel good baby?” You order him and he looks up at you nervously.
If he takes his hand off his mouth he doesn't think he’d be able to be silent especially if he jerks himself off while you finger him.
Though that's what you want. 
You want to see him cum, want to see his jaw slack and cock twitch when he makes a mess of himself. To hear him cry your name out because that's all that pops into his pretty little head. He removes his hand from his mouth slowly, bringing it down to hold his cock: unmoving. “Go on baby.” his eyes flicker from the camera to his cock before pumping it slowly.
The feeling makes him sigh. Your fingers slow down so as to not overwhelm him. “Feel good?” you question and he looks back to you. Pink lips shining and eyes glossy. “Yeah..” he trails off quietly. You smile, your panties left wet from this. 
His effort, his beauty, his warmth, all of it makes you go crazy.
You pick up your pace again. Fingers fucking against his prostate unrelenting causing pleasure to overtake him so fast he almost forgets how to stroke his cock. You smile as his hand stutters and his eyes roll back. You look at the camera seeing the way his sweat makes his skin shine.
“What's wrong Gyu? Why’d you stop?” you question, voice laced with faux confusion. He looks up into the camera. His face is so pretty you think you could cum just from seeing him like this. 
Even though he's not necessarily staring at you it feels like he only sees you, the phone not even in his vision. 
“Can’t Y/n, can't.” he cries out. His lip quivering, he feels so good, loves you so much. He needs your help. Only you know how to ruin him so good, touch him in a way he never can. “Need my help baby?” You inquire and he nods.
His brain is too fuzzy, all he wants is for you to make him cum. Wants to feel your touch everywhere. You grab his cock tightly before pumping him quickly. “Yes, yes..“ he moans out. Hands pulling his thighs closer, hoping maybe it'll let him feel you more.
Suddenly the noise from in the house gets louder, cheering for something unknown being heard. “What do you think they'd say if they knew they were in our video baby? Knew that their voices could be heard while I film me fingerfucking you?” you question before squeezing him tighter. Strokes gliding easily from how messy he already is. 
“Ahhh, good s’good!” he moans. Not caring about how his voice is getting louder and how the house is suddenly getting quieter.
“Y/n…y/n!” he cries hips moving up and down. Trying to pull more pleasure from wherever he can get it. “Close baby?” you ask lowly.
“Mmm! feels good, feels so good. Wish it was deeper.” he whimpers out. “I’ll just have to keep you stretched till we go home tomorrow then huh? Then I’ll fuck you deep baby, make you feel me here.” You press your palm on his stomach and the action sends him over the edge.
His stomach tenses and his eyes open to find yours once more. He needs to see you while he cums, to see how you look down at where his cum lands on his stomach while some drips down your hand. 
Your name falls from his lips in a sob, letting the whole house know who makes him feel like this. Letting them know who makes star football player Mingyu sound like this. 
You take your fingers out of his hole he whines at the slide of them. Pointing the camera to where his hole is now empty. Watching as he clenches around nothing as if to entice you back in. You moan at the sight, such a pretty hole on your pretty boy. You turn the camera off, throwing your phone to the side. 
“Was I pretty?” he asks when you lean over him to kiss his neck. “The prettiest.” you admit truthfully. He giggles, loving how you see him. 
“Want more kisses now.” he pleads and you smile moving to look down at him “You weren't quiet.” you jokingly remind him. Mingyu whines, feeling frustrated from his lack of kisses. “Don't care. You like it when everyone knows how much of a mess you make me. So shh and give me my kisses.” he vocalizes pulling you closer to him.
You laugh and kiss him lovingly. His lips are always soft and inviting as you press yours to his. Neither of you moves back until your lungs beg for air.
He leans up for one more peck before laying back against the pillows with a pretty grin. “So what I’m hearing is you weren't even trying to be quiet.” you tease; standing up and helping him lean against the headboard. You help him put his clothes on so you can head to the shower. Sure the bathroom is right across the hall but you don't want to risk the chance of someone seeing Mingyu walking; ass out. 
“I was trying.” he replies causing you to roll your eyes. “Sure gyu.” You don't even have to look at him to see his leg bounce. “I was!” you only laugh at his insistence.
“Whatever just be quiet from here to the bathroom, then maybe I’ll give you more kisses.” You open the door and look over your shoulder to see him close behind, mouth shut. You giggle at his cuteness.
He knows it's an empty threat, He’s just too pretty that you'd give him anything no matter what he does. 
You both know that.
579 notes · View notes
mastermindmiko · 7 months
Text
You're in love
Pairing: Ron Weasley + fem!reader
Word count: 8502 (DAMN)
Summary: A (LONG) one shot inspired by Taylor Swift's song you're in love from 1989.
Warnings: none, I believe, but let me know.
hey, if you think this doesn't completely suck, check out my masterlist
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The music was blasting loudly all over the room, they would’ve been scared to get caught if professor McGonogall wasn’t too happy herself. The room was dim, and the disco lights (that some muggleborn had conjured up) were the only light source available. Everyone was dancing, except for me, I was looking for someone. 
The Quidditch team was surrounded by everyone, giving them pats on the back and telling them how good they played. We did play well today, after all we did win the cup, but no one patted me on the back because I was too busy, I was looking for someone. 
I scan the room again from on top of one of the couches, I get a better view of the room from up here. The fifth years and above all had red cups in their hands, filled with alcohol, I could smell it. The people that were younger than fifteen had similar red cups except that they were filled with soda instead. I should’ve had one myself, but I was looking for someone. 
“You did really well today.”  Harry interrupts my search as he looks at me with a smile. I smile back and hop off the couch. I say, “We all played really well.” 
“You scored a lot of goals.” He says, and I shrug my shoulders at the attention and say, “It wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t caught the snitch.” 
“It was a team effort.” A new voice says from behind me, and I feel a hand on each of my shoulders. Fred and George are standing behind me and they look at me before asking, “Mind if we steal Harry for a bit?” 
I shake my head, and they look at Harry with a mischievous look in their eyes. Harry’s eyes go wide with fear, before Fred lifts him up on his shoulders. The room goes wild again as Fred leads Harry to the centre of the room. A small smile cracks on my face as I watch everyone celebrate again. 
I look around the room again, and I try to find him, but I can’t see anything because why were seventh years so tall? I turn around and hit someone flat in their chest. I look up to find George looking at me. He says, “He’s across the room, on the other side.” 
“Who is?” I ask, and he gives me a pointed look with a smirk, as if he can’t believe that I don’t think he knows. I do know that he knows, I think everyone but him knows. George leans down, so I can hear him better. He says, “The one you’ve been looking for all night, and won’t celebrate without.” 
I feel a blush coating my cheeks, but he’s right, every word. I have been looking for him all night, and I haven’t celebrated at all despite our victory because I’ve been looking for him all night. I mutter, “Thank you.” 
George seemed satisfied because he gave me another teasing grin before he left to go into the middle of the common room to join the celebration and probably help Fred lift Harry up. I make my way to the other side of the room, but it’s hard to see with the dim lighting and the sheer amount of people in this room. 
I push through several people and I try to make my way between them, but with all the dancing and jumping, it makes the easy task much harder. I see a wall, or at least I think I do, and I walk towards it. I reach the end of the common room, and I press my palm to the wall, as if to make sure that it’s real, like I’ve actually made it. 
I see him, then. I recognise him as soon as I see him, despite not being able to see nearly anything, maybe it’s because of the distinctive red hair, or maybe it’s because the way my heart nearly went out of my chest at the sight of him. He has a cup in his hand, that he’s taking a few sips from and another in his other hand, that he hasn’t touched. He’s leaning against the wall. He’s looking around, just like I was a few minutes ago.
A smile blossoms on my face, and I walk to him. A couple footsteps, and he notices me when I’m only a few inches away. He smiles, just like me, and he meets me halfway. I feel nervous. He extends the untouched cup to me and I take a sip, it’s my favourite soda. 
I look at him, and it’s different. I wonder if he knows that it’s the look I give to him and only him. I wonder if he notices that when his smile widens that I realise that I like him. I wonder if he realised that he liked me at the same moment. He says, “Hi.” 
***
No one ever really told me how fast time goes by when you’re at Hogwarts. That one second you’re taking your first ever potions lesson and the next you’re getting ready for your NEWT potions. That one second you’re at a party realising that you have a crush on someone and the next thing you know you realise that you’ve been in love with Ron Weasley for three years. 
This year hasn’t been easy, definitely one of the easier ones to take in, of course, but with NEWTs it's been near impossible to be caught up with work. That’s even harder when the guy you’ve been in love with just kissed another girl a week ago and right now is no doubt getting ready to go on a date with her. 
The common room was quiet. Everyone was already at Hogsmeade and the people below third year were too busy getting a little bit extra sleep. The only thing I could hear was the fire crackling from the fireplace and the sound of pages turning as I studied Transfiguration for the upcoming test, but I couldn’t study because of the aching feeling in my chest. 
We all saw it when Lavender kissed him after we’d won the match, but only a few people saw me run off after that. An even fewer amount were with me when I started crying, and only Harry knew what happened afterwards. I saw him talking with her a few mornings ago, deciding that they’ll go out today to Hogsmeade, no doubt to madam puddifoot’s. I look at the same page I’d been staring at for who knows how long, trying to understand anything that is written. 
“Hello? Is anyone down there?” I hear him say, and a few seconds later, He walks down the stairs, and my breath hitches when I see him. He’s gotten all dressed up for this date, and I can’t deny that he looks absolutely beautiful. 
He says my name and he stays there for a moment. He’s late for the date, I know that he knows that, and I’m sure Lavender who’s probably standing alone in front of the tea shop knows that. I feel uneasy, looking at him, knowing he’s going to another girl in a few minutes. 
He clears his throat and gestures to his unbuttoned coat, he says, weakly, “Would you mind helping me? I can’t close the buttons, they're too small and the holes for the buttons are just invisible to me.” 
He chuckles, but it’s out of nervousness. I can tell, I know his happy laugh, his sad laugh, I thought I knew everything about him, but apparently I don’t because I thought he knew how I felt. I don’t say anything, but I close the book and place it beside me on the couch. 
I stand up and walk towards him, he meets me halfway. I fix his coat by the long collar and I trace my hands to the buttons, I can hear his breath hitch, and the silence between is deafening. I mutter, “You look good.” 
“Thank you.” he replies, and I’ve buttoned half of the buttons when I pause to look into his eyes. He’s already looking at me. I look at him the way I always do, a look filled with everything that I can’t say, a look that’s meant just for him. He’s done something different with his hair, I don’t know what, but it makes him look absolutely irresistible, more than he usually is, at least to me anyways. 
“It’s like we’re a married couple.” He laughs, and I can imagine exactly what he’s saying. Me helping him get ready in the morning while he goes off to work when it’s snowing outside and needs his coat. I let out a chuckle, before I said, “Wouldn’t that be something.” 
After that the room is charged with something I can’t quite put my finger on, and it makes my heart beat faster and faster with every second that I push each button into its hole. 
I take more time buttoning up the last button, and I pause my hands there. On my way to look into his eyes, I notice that the top part of the coat is wrinkled, so I press my hands to his chest and smooth the fabric of the coat out. I leave my palms there a bit longer, feeling the way his chest moves up and down and the way I can feel his heartbeat under my fingertips. 
I lift my hands from his chest and in a second, he grabs both my wrists and holds them close to him. I look at him, and he’s got a look that I can’t decipher. I wonder if he can tell that I’m miserable just thinking about where he’s going, or the fact that he’s going there with someone else. 
He opens his mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “I’m not going on that date.” 
For the first time in days, I feel my chest stop constricting, I feel like I can breathe again, but it doesn’t make any sense. I lick my lips before asking, “Why?” 
“You know why.” That’s his only answer, and he doesn’t say anything as he slowly drops my hands, and goes back up the stairs. I’m left down there with my thoughts. 
***
“Are you sure Mr Weasley allowed you to do this?” I ask as I hold on tightly to the handles of the door. I look out the window and stare down as I can see the tops of the buildings getting smaller and smaller by every second. 
“I’m an adult now, of legal age, he can’t tell me what to do and what not to do.” Ron said, with confidence as he started out into the road-sky. I look at him with a pointed look, unconvinced by his speech. He clears his throat and says, “He said yes.” 
“You’d think that after second year’s incident that he would be more cautious about letting you use this thing.” I say, grinning, remembering the way Ron broke his wand and almost got expelled. Something good came out of it though, Ron became my wand partner and we spent more time together. He laughed, “He said that if I scratched it, he would kill me. I think we made an unbreakable vow or something.” 
I laughed at his words, and looked out the window. I wondered how long his small talk can last before we start getting to the subject that we’ve been tiptoeing around these past few months. I wasn’t talking about the war, we all knew that was coming sooner or later. I was talking about us. 
“Thank you for picking me up.” I said, looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders as if travelling several hundred kilometres back and forth was no big deal, he explained, “You had to come here someway. Fleur would’ve killed me if she found out that you weren’t coming to her wedding.” 
Even after his words, a small part of me hoped that he wanted me to come. He grips the wheels tighter and every few seconds he would rub his hands over his jeans to wipe away the sweat. I take a breath before I courageously grab his hand into mine. I keep them both in my lap, and he looks at me baffled. I ask, “Do you need it to drive?” 
“No, I don’t.” He says and he looks back quickly in front of him. I smile as I see the tiny pink tinge to his cheeks, matching mine exactly. I look out the window and I see the sun setting, by the time we’re there it will no doubt be midnight. 
It was nearly midnight when we got there. Mrs Weasley was the only one who was still up, waiting for her son to get home and waiting to greet me. She had a smile on her face, tired, but still as wide as always. I didn’t need her to point me to the direction of the room I’ll be staying in, I already knew. 
I enter the room and place my bags on one of the beds, I notice Hermione and Ginny already sound asleep. I change into my pyjamas, brush my teeth and get ready to go to sleep. The place is warm and the perfect atmosphere to fall asleep in, but when I tucked myself into my covers, I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me. 
I kept sighing as I turned to either of my sides trying to fall asleep. Changing the pillows from one side to the other, tossing and turning until I decided that I’ve had enough. I rub my tired eyes and see that the clock had struck twelve. I sigh and get up. 
I headed down stairs in my fuzzy slippers, I tried not to make any sound, but the creaky stairs weren’t helping me. I made it to the bottom where the kitchen was. I opened the door and was hit by the smell of fresh coffee, just what I needed. Ron was sitting on the table with a cup in his hands. 
He turned to see who had just entered the kitchen. Upon seeing me, he stands up, nearly dropping a bit of coffee from his mug in the process. He breathes, “Hi.” 
I return the greeting, as I move towards the cupboard where the mugs are. I know where everything is, having helped Mrs Weasley enough times to know. I felt his eyes on my back the entire time, and I grabbed my mug, everyone had their own mugs, even me. I turned and gestured to the coffee pot, I asked, “Do you mind?” 
He shakes his head, and he looks at me as I add the milk and sugar. He looks at my every move and it makes me feel lightheaded, in the way that makes me feel like I’m going to float to the moon. I turn to the table and he’s already beat me in pulling out a chair. I sit down and give him a grateful smile. I wrap my fingers around the mug, and lift my feet to the chair, resting my head on my knees. 
He’s looking at me. We’re the only people who do that. We never say anything, but I can hear what he wants to say. It was our thing being able to feel everything in the silence. I wonder if from these looks he can tell just how much I love him, or maybe, how long I’ve loved him for. 
“Why are you up?” he asks, after a beat, and I take another sip before replying, “I couldn’t sleep, you?” 
“Same thing, but I had to get up in a couple of hours to help with setting up for the wedding anyway, so I made the coffee.” he explains, and I nod my head at his words. I don’t say anything else, but the air is heavy. How long can we go on like this? With everything that I feel between us, that I know he feels too, left unsaid. 
He takes both our mugs and places them into the sink. He waves his wands and they start washing themselves. He tightens his grip on his wand and he pauses before saying, “Do you want to go somewhere?” 
***
Muggle London was still alive, or at least more alive than any other wizarding establishment. It wasn’t that far either, so it was the perfect place to go, and that’s where we were. I was walking on the sidewalk and he was walking beside me. My arms were swinging and I kept thinking what would happen if I just reached over and grabbed his hand.  
There weren’t many cars passing by, just one or two every few minutes. Neither of us knew a lot about Muggle London, but we knew what not to do in front of muggles, so we kept our wands hidden and kept the magic chatter away. 
“Your brother is getting married tomorrow.” I sigh, Fleur is getting married too, it only seemed like yesterday when I was just meeting her after she stepped off the flying carriage.Time really does fly by, doesn’t it. Ron sighs, wistfully, “Yeah.” 
“I think it’s great that they’re doing this.” I say, and I kick a pebble in front of me, then I add, “Especially at a time like this, I think that we all need a bit of cheering up, don’t you think.” 
“Yeah.” He replies, and it makes me feel confused. He wasn’t very talkative tonight. He looked very deep in thought, it made me nervous. I stop walking and turn to him, I ask, “Ron, are you okay?” 
“Yeah.” He replies and I quirk up an eyebrow and he chuckles, “Yes, I am.” 
I shrug my shoulders and continue walking, it’s best with Ron not to press on things. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. What could possibly be on his mind? We all know that the war has been making everyone unnerved, but this felt different. Ron and I tried not to talk about these things, I didn’t want to express my fears of something happening to him, especially since he was so close to Harry. I shake my head at the thoughts, and try to lighten the mood.
“Does Bill know about how you liked Fleur?” The teasing question brings Ron to a screeching halt. His cheeks turn as red as his hair, and I start laughing. He stutters, and it only increases my laughter. I hold my stomach and lean forward, laughing. 
“He-he doesn’t know, so let’s not remind anyone of it. The last thing I need is Fred and George remembering and telling him.” Ron stutters before he folds his arms over his chest and pouts.  I pause for a second to pretend that I’m thinking, I tap my chin and furrow my eyebrows. I say, “That’s actually not a bad idea.” 
Ron’s eyes go wide and he lifts his pointer finger and threatens, “You wouldn’t dare.” 
“I’m on my way to tell them right now.” I say, before turning around the other way and starting to run. Ron runs after me and he’s calling out for me and telling me to stop, I can barely hear anything over the sounds of my own laughter. 
Suddenly, my chuckles stop as I feel something, something like air, pulling me back very quickly. I stop when I feel Ron’s chest behind my back. He tucks his wand away and I turn to scold him, “Ron! You can’t use magic here!” 
“There’s no one around.” Ron says, and I turn around to look and there’s only a few people around. No one is actually paying attention to us. I look back at him and he’s got his hand hovering near my face. It’s all so sudden to me the way the atmosphere changes, the way he’s looking at me with those eyes, identical to the ones that I give him. 
I don’t move, and he takes it as a sign to move his hand forward. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my face, and he cups my cheek. My breath hitches. He whispers, “It wouldn’t have been good ammunition against me anyway.” 
“Why not?” I whisper, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but I can’t bring myself to care about that now anyway. I might have been mistaken, but I see Ron’s eyes flicker to my lips, it’s just for a second, but it ignites everything within me, including a pinkish colour to my cheeks. I lick my lips anyway, and this time I’m not mistaken because he definitely looked at my lips this time. 
“Because everyone knows there’s only one girl I’ve ever liked.” Ron says, and it makes butterflies swarm in my stomach, my heart beat out of my chest, all those romantic feelings. I don’t need to ask who because I know, and because I know. I lift my heels from the group and kiss him. 
***
“It’s a really pretty view, isn’t it?” I hear him say from behind me, I’d recognise that voice anywhere. I turn to look at him with a smile, I don’t know how I didn’t notice him coming before. I fixed my gaze back at the tent where the wedding was happening. Fleur and Bill are husband and wife so now everyone is celebrating. I reply, “The prettiest” 
“It better be I worked really hard to make it that way.” Ron huffs and it makes me chuckle. He sits down on the grass beside me, looking at the tent as well. I sigh, with all that’s happening in the world I don’t think that there’s anywhere I’d rather be. I can hear the faint sound of the music from up here on the hill, and it feels peaceful. 
I can hear the birds chirping and the sounds of laughter. It was really, very pretty. I feel a hand touch mine, and I look at Ron who looks like he’s just been caught stealing, maybe stealing my heart, but he’s already taken that a long time ago. I smile and shuffle closer to him to hold his large hand with both of mine. I rest my head on his shoulder, and I hear him let out a breath before he rests his head on mine. 
If I was given the opportunity to stay like this forever, then I would have, of course, I’d see if there was a way to kill Voldemort first, then I’d stay like this. We haven’t talked about the kiss, but Ron’s been much more affectionate since then. A part of me was afraid that he’d chicken out and say that it was simply the cause of sleep deprivation. The other part of me was terrified that he would give me all his love then end up dying in this war. 
The idea brought a shudder down my spine. Losing Ron is the last thing I can take, especially when I’m so close to finally having him. I’ve been afraid to try and kiss him after the first time because what if I get too attached and something happens to him? What will I do with myself then? 
“I have something to tell you.” Ron breaks my train of thought, and the feeling of him lifting his head off of mine, prompts me to do the same. I look at him and he has a grim look on his face that only makes me worry even more. I ask, “What is it?” 
He doesn’t answer, and my mind reels with the possibilities, each one worse than the one before it.I squeeze his hand and suck in a deep breath. I say, “Ron?” 
“I’m planning on leaving.” he replies, and I furrow my eyebrows confused. Where would he be going at a time like this? Why would he leave in the middle of the war? I say, trying to make my voice even but it comes out shaky anyway, “Leaving where?” 
“We’re going to find the Horcruxes and destroy them, Harry, Hermione and me.” he explains. Ah yes, the Horcruxes the pieces of Voldemort's soul and the key to killing him. Ron told me all about them after Harry told him. I hoped that Dumbledore would be taking the lead on this ordeal but as soon as Ron explained, Dumbledore was dead. 
Why does it have to be Ron that goes to do this extremely dangerous mission? Does it have to be my friends too? I feel my eyes beginning to water, so I look away. I can feel Ron’s gaze burning into the side of my face. I blink the tears away because I know that Ron’s going anyway. It’s the Gryffindor side of him. I ask, “Is there any other way?” 
“No.” he replies, shortly and straight to the point. I sigh, even though I knew it. The leaves rustle and the wind strengthens around us. It makes me shiver, Ron takes off his jacket and hands it to me. He wraps it around my shoulders and tugs it around me, making sure that I’m covered. He looks at me then he says, “You can’t contact me when I’m away.” 
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I say and chuckle to hide the fact that it is the complete opposite of what I am feeling. What I’m currently feeling is a whole bunch of emotions that don’t even remotely come close to happiness. I chuckle, though I’m sure he knows that I’m not kidding at all, “Well then, promise you’ll come back in one piece.” 
“I promise.” he says, and he smiles, but we both know that it’s not up to him. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and i close my eyes, trying to take in the feeling, in case I don't get it for a long time, in case i don’t ever get it again, it’s a morbid thought, but it’s possible. I sigh, “When are you leaving?” 
“I don’t know, Harry and Hermione are deciding.” Ron says, and I nod my head. I wonder if there’s any way Harry can forget about Voldemort and all the death eaters drop dead with something like food poisoning. I promised myself that in the last moments that he’s here before he leaves I’ll let go of all of my fears and all of my ghosts to spend these moments with him.
“I have something to show you.” he says, and his frown is replaced by a slight grin, he’s brought me a gift to soften the blow, he knows me too well. The thoughts are still in the back of my mind, but I push them away and focus on him, while I excitedly say,  “What is it?” 
He waved his wand and a square shaped box appeared. It drops from the air to his hands and he gives it to me. I waste no time in taking off the wrapping which disappeared as soon as I did, and lifting the lid off the box. My breath gets caught in my throat as soon as I see it. I push my hair away from my face. The wind makes it impossible for me to see it clearly. I look at the tiny figurine that matches me, or me three years ago, it’s hard to believe that it was that long ago. 
It was a snow globe and inside it were tiny figurines of Ron and I dancing. The snow falls over us just like it did the moment when this was taken. The tiny me and the tiny Ron only move in a circle but it’s perfect. I look up at him and realise, he’s perfect, maybe not in every way, but at least he’s perfect for me. 
My lack of answering must have made him panic because he’s started rambling, “I made it a few days ago because I didn't know I just wanted to give you something to remember me by- or something equally as cheesy. It’s fine if you don’t like it-” 
“I love it, Ron.” I cut him off, holding his hand with mine that isn’t occupied. I smile, and he does it back. He rubs the back of his neck, no doubt embarrassed by the amount of attention I’m giving him. He mutters, “Oh, I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s us by the way at the-” 
“At the Yule ball.” I beat him to it, did he seriously think I wouldn’t remember? I was Harry’s date because Ron was too chicken to ask me out, and I would’ve asked him out, if I didn’t want to teach him a lesson, and maybe a small part of me was scared of rejection as well. Harry didn’t dance the whole night and neither did Ron. I spent the whole night dancing with my friends and their dates, until when almost everyone was off of the dance floor, Ron asked me to dance. He says, “Yeah.” 
“How’d you make it?” I asked, looking at the snow globe, closely. I was very intrigued by the mechanism of it, It looked nearly identical to the actual event. I was wearing the same dress down to the pearls around my neck and everything. Ron explains, “I give them a memory of mine in a vial and you know- they make that-” 
He gestures to the globe in my hands, and I nod my head at his words. I shake it again to make the snow fall over tiny me’s head. I smile looking at it, remembering the wonderful night. I hear the sounds of the people instead the tent turns more quiet and I look at the tent, curiously. Ron says, "Look up.” 
I do just that and as if on queue the fireworks start around the tent. There were several murmurs of exclamation at the sight from the tent, and I couldn’t help but agree. It was beautiful. Seeing the colour shoot one after the other, purple and blue and yellow and red, each one exploding then fading into the sky. It was a wonderful sight. 
Our shoulders brush and I look at Ron to find him looking at me. He looks at me with that look again. The look that I gave him back in third year in a dark room, that made him see my love for him even with the lights out. The look that I give him when I have a hundred words to say, but I can’t say them, and he just knows what I mean. The look that I gave him when we were driving to the Burrow that made him feel what I meant. 
The light reflects on something and it pierces into my eyes, I notice that it’s a chain around his neck. The chain that I gave him as a present only a few months ago. He was in the hospital wing after he almost got poisoned, I couldn’t sit still that day, I even had to leave the castle. That’s when I stumbled across it, it wasn’t much, but I knew that Ron would like it. I say, “You kept it?” 
“Of course.” 
I find myself leaning closer and closer to him. My breath is hitching as I’m filled with the anticipation of our second kiss. Not saying anything was our thing, I hoped that with this kiss, he would feel what I wanted to say. I love you, I love you, I love you, I hoped he would feel it and maybe even return it before he left. 
But he doesn’t. We’re torn apart by the sounds of screams coming from the tent. Ron jumps up to his feet and one hand holds his wand while the other holds mine. He starts running in the opposite direction and he pushes me into a shed. I can’t question him about how absurd he’s being pushing me into a shed, but I don’t have time. He’s already got one hand on the door, and he says, “Stay here you’ll be safe.” 
I want to complain, I want to go fight with him, but I didn’t because he was already closing the door to the shed, but before he does, from a small crack between the door and the shed’s walls, he says, “I’ll be right back.” 
***
Except he didn’t come back, he didn’t come back for a while actually. When I heard the screams and the noise coming from the tent stop, I came out. Everyone was ( to a certain extent ) okay, but Ron was nowhere in sight. His family were all frightened of course, and I hated to be the one to inform them about the news. 
My parents fled the country opting to go to America instead because it was safer, I refused. My whole life was here, I needed to stay in England to protect it. I didn’t go back to Hogwarts that year, not with the staff being changed, not with Snape as headmaster. The death eaters had warned that all students should return to Hogwarts, but I lived with Bill and Fleur under the assumption that Bill was teaching me how to become a curse breaker. 
I didn’t want to burden them with my existence by staying with them, considering that the only money I had was in the vaults, but I couldn’t go and get them, not while death eaters were around. Bill told me that we were valuable to the death eaters, considering that we had a close connection to Ron and hence Harry. He told me that we should stay hidden for a while. 
It wasn’t easy, but I spent my time with Fleur. She taught me bits of French when we were bored, and we kept to the garden most of the time. Sometimes, members of the Weasley family would come to visit at the Shell Cottage, but they never stayed for long. I barely spent any time inside at all, I wanted to leave Bill and Fleur alone together, after all they were newlyweds, I didn’t want to impose, despite their arguments, saying that I was not imposing. 
I spent most of my time thinking about Ron, how he was. I kept listening to the radio, the station that Fred, George and Lee had made, under code names. I prayed every time that I wouldn’t hear the names of anyone I loved. Harry, Ron and Hermione left so suddenly, I wondered if they had anything prepared with them at all. I know Hermione did, but did the rest of them. Clothes, food, water, did they have what they needed? 
I know that Ron is doing this to save the world and everything, but couldn’t he just take a break from saving the world, and just spend a little time with me. It was selfish, I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from wishing for just that. 
I wake up one day, close to noon, like I always did nowadays. It was November and the air was chilly, so I kept a blanket around my shoulders. I had a room for myself, it was the guest room, but I turned it mine after living here for so long. 
I brush my teeth and my hair. I wobble down the stairs, and I see Bill and Fleur’s backs. I furrowed my eyebrows, it was an odd sight. Usually, in the mornings, Bill would be outside placing protective charms while Fleur stayed inside and prepared breakfast, or read one of her favourite books. I ask, “What’s going on guys?” 
They step aside and I see what I didn’t expect, Ron. He looked dishevelled and tired, and something else that I couldn’t place. I didn’t want to analyse his expressions at the moment, I just wanted to hug him. I whispered his name like I couldn’t believe he was here and I rushed down the last few steps and wrapped my arms around his neck. 
“I can’t believe you’re here, I missed you so much.” I say, and I tighten my grip around him. It takes me a few seconds to realise that he wasn’t hugging me back. I pull away from him and I ask, “What’s wrong?” 
I lift my hand to cup his cheek, to hopefully get him to look at me. I don’t understand what’s got him acting this way, especially after I didn’t see him for months. As soon as my hand touches his cheek, he turns his head away, like I burned him. He takes a step away and he asks, “Did you sleep with Harry?” 
My blood runs cold, and I feel Bill and Fleur looking at me expectantly. This was the last thing I expected him to ask me, ever, and definitely not the first thing I wanted him to say when I finally saw him. I stutter, “I-what?” 
“You heard me. Did you sleep with Harry?” he shouts, and I scrunch my face up and close my eyes. I can’t believe that we’re doing this now. I was going to tell him, I was, but not when everything was going wrong around us, I didn’t want us to go wrong too. I try, “Ron, calm down.” 
“That’s not an answer!” Ron shouts, and I press my lips tightly together and I avoid his gaze, looking down at the floor. I hear him scoff and I can hear Fleur’s tiny gasp. Bill grapes his wife’s hand and they leave the room, and they go upstairs. I can’t imagine what they must think of me now. I sigh, “I really wanted to tell you, Ron.” 
He huffs and starts to walk outside into the garden. I follow him without question and I try to reason with him, “I couldn’t tell you with everything that was going on. Too much was already happening, I didn’t want to add to that.” 
“Why the bloody hell would you sleep with him anyway?” Ron shouts back at me and I rush over to grab his shoulder and stop him. He doesn’t look at me, but I don’t let him move away from me. I say, “Could you stop running away for a moment and just let me explain?” 
He doesn’t reply, and I can see him clench his jaw, but he sits down on the grass anyway. I sit in front of him, cross legged and I hold his hand. He still wasn’t looking at me, but after a beat, a take a deep breath in then begin to explain, “When you kissed Lavender, it was kind of like the whole world just threw me off for a second, because you were this guy that I liked for years, and I just assumed that you liked me back even though there wasn’t much proof, but it was enough for me to just keep on liking you back.” 
I took another breath and then continued, “I realised that we weren’t really anything, and you obviously knew that because you had your tongue shoved down someone’s throat. I was really hurt, I felt miserable and that continued on for days after, but at the moment I wasn’t really thinking. I had to get out of there because everyone was cheering and I couldn't breathe.” 
His hand relaxes in mine a bit and I feel the weight on my shoulders loosen a bit as I keep going, “Hermione and Harry were the only ones who noticed I left, so they followed. They comforted me, and when Hermione left, Harry told me that everything was going to get better. He knew that because that’s the way he felt when Ginny was with Dean. I needed someone and he needed someone, and we were both there.” 
I didn’t bother continuing because he knew what happened next. He pulls his hand from mine, and he shuffles away from me. I feel a knife going into my chest, but I know that it must be nothing compared to the knife in his back. I don’t say anything else, and I wait for him to say something. He asks, “Did you sleep with anyone else?” 
I knew the answer was going to dig my hole even deeper, but I couldn’t lie to him. I knew it was just going to make it worse, so I brace myself for the impact and I sigh, “No.” 
“Oh that’s just great. I thought that if you were some kind of whore then it would’ve been better, but no, you had to pick Harry.” He mutters, angrily, and I feel my eyes begin to water, but I look to the side to blink them away. He adds, “Even after knowing the way he makes me feel-” 
He cuts himself off with a sigh, as he covers his face with both his hands. I knew what he meant. Ron has always felt inferior to everyone in his family and especially Harry. A part of Ron always hated Harry because he was the chosen one, and the boy who lived, and he was just his best friend. I always tried to make him feel like he was the best person on the planet, but my words only did so much. 
“I really am sorry, Ron.” I say, and I feel my eyes start to burn again. I purse my lips and hope to stop the tears from flowing but they do anyway. I chuckle bitterly, “This is not how I imagined this would go at all.” 
I can see his expression falter, no doubt taken aback by hearing the change in my voice. He knew I was crying, but he still didn’t look at me. I say, “I know that you’re hurt, and I’m sorry, but I know that- that you know that you’re the only person I’ve ever liked.” 
“I love you, Ron.” I say it for the first time, my feelings are out, and he hears them. I don’t have to share them with him with glances and small touches. He now knows for sure how I feel. I sniffle, “If by some chance, at some point, you don’t hate me, then come talk to me, okay?” 
He doesn’t reply, so I wipe away the few stray tears, and I stand up and go to my room. I wondered if Bill and Fleur would let me stay with them after knowing this piece of information. Once I close the door to my room, I can’t stop the tears from flowing freely. Just as soon as I had him, I lost him, and it wasn’t because of the stupid war. 
I sit on my bed and I cover my face with both my hands. I didn’t want it to be like this, I wanted him to come back and he’d tell me that he missed me, and he’d kiss me. He did keep his word though, he came back in one piece. All I wanted was him. 
The door to my room opens and I’m quick to wipe my face as I look up and find Ron entering the room. He closes the door behind him and he leans against it. I watch him closely. Ron huffs, “It’s unfair- it’s unfair that as soon as you cry, you can get me to do anything you want.” 
I don’t say anything, and for the first time since what feels like forever he’s looking at me with something other than hate. This isn’t the first time Ron and I fought, but this was the biggest fight. Like every fight, after it, we talk. He takes a few steps and sits on my bed with me, except that he stays as far away from me as possible. 
“I’m sorry I called you…that.” He says, and I know what he’s talking about. I’ve been insulted before, like every person on the planet, but it always hurts the most from the person you least expect it from. I sniffle, “It’s fine, I deserved it.” 
“No, you didn’t. I overreacted-” 
“Which is totally understandable.” I cut him off, and I feel him warming up to me. The silence between us is heavy, but in a way, it’s more comfortable. He runs a hand through his overgrown hair and he says, “This isn’t how I wanted this to go either.” 
“How- how did you want this to go?” I ask, carefully. He doesn’t reply, but he answers as he leans forward to embrace me. He wraps his arms around my body in a big, warm hug. It’s the best feeling in the world. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip him tighter. 
A few knocks on the door are heard when the door opens and we hear the hinges squeak. Fleur and Bill poke their heads in and they smile at the sight of us both in a tight embrace. Bill says, “We’re going to Mom’s, do you want to come?” 
“I think I’ll just stay here, but say hi for me.” Ron replies to his older brother and Bill nods, then he leaves the room. As soon as the door is shut, Ron holds my face with both his large hands, and he says, “Merlin, I missed you so much.” 
“You have no idea.” I reply, and he presses a kiss to my forehead, and I rest my head back in the crook of his neck. He mutters, much to my dismay, “I’m going to have to go back.” 
I know where back is. Back where Harry and Hermione are, back where he was fighting dark wizards and back where he was hunting Horcruxes. Ron’s always been the perfect mix of a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor, of course he was going back to his friends. I sigh, “I know, but can you stay, just for a little while, at least.” 
It takes him a second, and I know that he’s thinking about it. He squeezes me tighter and that’s how I know he’s got his answer ready. He whispers, “Okay.” 
That’s when we decide that for the short time that he’s going to be staying here that we’re going to make the most out of it, and we do. In the middle of the night, after the previously occurring events, he looks at me, and I grin at him. I thought he fell asleep. He looks at me with a strange look on his face. He pauses, then says, “You’re my best friend.” 
I know that was his way of telling me that he loved me too. 
***
I wake up to the smell of something burning and Ron not beside me. I groan as the bright sunlight hits my eyes first thing in the morning. I can hear the birds chirping and I wonder if Bill and Fleur were back, I assumed that they weren’t because neither of them would ever burn anything. 
I sit up and I stretch, feeling the cold autumn chill hit my naked body, making me want to curl up under the sheets for a little while more. I see Ron’s shirt on the ground, and I grab it as well as a fresh pair of underwear.I brush my teeth, and head downstairs, and I see a very pretty sight. 
A shirtless Ron in only his boxers, cooking breakfast, or at least trying to. I chuckle at the sight of the three burnt toasts on a plate on the kitchen counter. It alerts him of my presence, and he turns around quickly. He sees me looking at the toast and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. He says, “I was trying, okay?” 
“I didn’t say anything!” I laugh, and I walk around the kitchen island to get to him. I wrap my hands around his torso and I hug him tightly, and he does the same as much as he can with a spatula in one hand. I lean back and I get a perfect view of his bare chest and I just want to say ‘thank you, quidditch’. 
“I’m just going to wait here, until you’re done making-” I lean forward to see what he was making in the pan on the stove, and I see something yellow, so I detect that it’s eggs, but it didn’t look quite right so I continue, “scrambled eggs.” 
“It’s supposed to be an omelette, but okay.” Ron says, with an annoyed tone, but it makes me chuckle anyway. I sit down on the kitchen island, and when Ron’s finished, he sets the plates beside me. I take it as an opportunity to wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. 
He sets his hands on my waist, and he pecks my lips a couple times before trailing down to give a few kisses to my jaw and neck. He begins to suck on a certain spot, and I pull away. I give him a threatening look and I warn him, “You gave me enough of those already last night, no more.” 
He laughs and presses a quick kiss to my lips that makes me smile just as wide as he is. His eyes trail down and he notices the shirt I’m wearing, his shirt. He grabs the material between his two fingers. He gives me a look, “This is mine.” 
A firm statement, it’s his shirt, I know it, he knows it. I feign an innocent look, and look down at the shirt, like I’m just noticing that I’m wearing it in the first place. I furrow my eyebrows in fake confusion and tilt my head to the side. I say, “is it?” 
“Yes, it is.” Ron replies, with a grin on his face. I shrug my shoulders and hum, “hmm, didn’t notice. I’ll give it back to you when it’s time for you to leave.” 
“Nah, keep it.” 
Ron ended up staying a lot longer than just a little while. Hermione and Harry were very mad at him because of that, but it didn’t matter because in only a few months after a very big battle, all was right in the world again. We had lost so many people, but in the end, we won. 
We returned for our last year at Hogwarts as 8th years. I studied to become a curse breaker, I guess it wasn’t a lie after all, and Ron became an Auror. Every once in a while Ron would help out Fred and George with stock and inventory and all things shop related. They even gave him his own office. I was pleasantly surprised to find a picture of me on his desk. 
All I can say is that the wait was worth it because I was very much in love with Ron Weasley and he loved me too, so despite everything despite all the longing glances, the fights and the bloody war, we made it, and nothing is better than when you’re in love.
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mr2swap · 25 days
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The great shift: Swap Sindrome 1
In a dimly lit room, I was masturbating with my fingertips in front of a pale white monitor. As I watched the images of boys around the age of high school students lined up on the screen, I fantasized about taking off their clothes and touching their naked bodies.
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-ahh, ahh… ahh-
I closed my eyes as I fantasized about the scenes that were still etched in my memory, the memories of my body and my Gymbros in the locker room flooded my mind, At this moment there was nothing erotic about looking at my best friends or touching their oily and muscles to feel The Progress we had made in the gym, but now it was different, I was different.
I continued looking at the photographs that were shown on the Instagram profiles of my former friends, while the desperation and excitement with which I moved My small cock increased more and more.
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I kept changing the photos until a photograph of my old body was displayed on the entire screen. I enlarged the photograph just so I could rotate the most erotic parts of my old body. I focused my gaze on the armpits that still had a couple of drops of stinky and sticky sweat running down towards my abdomen.
-FUUUCK! What I wouldn't give to smell those musky holes again-
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The shameful and perverted words that came out of my mouth really embarrassed me, but right now I had no control over myself the only thing I wanted was to fantasize about my old hairy armpits, lick his hard biceps and play with his grazed nipples, The memory of the last time I could smell a sweaty t-shirt from my original body made me ejaculate violently, the semen spread across the keyboard of the old computer that was in front of me.
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At that moment my head cleared, from one moment to the next the animal instincts that dominated me a few seconds ago immediately disappeared... and then only remorse.
I took a piece of paper that was within my reach and began to clean up the mess that I had caused myself. When I finished cleaning my little cock, I threw the ball of paper into the trash can that was saturated with balls identical to that one in a yellowish color. And they left a disgusting smell in my room.
I stood up, pulled up my pants and slowly walked towards the kitchen, avoiding looking at my fat old face on the relevant surfaces that were in my messy apartment. After doing this, I feel disgusting, but no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about my old life and in my old body.
-The swap syndrome…-
I said quietly trying to justify my depraved obsession with my old life, I had all the symptoms I had read on the internet:
“ Swap syndrome is a disorder characterized by a persistent and overwhelming obsession with a person's past life after experiencing a body swap with another. This syndrome manifests itself when two individuals involuntarily exchange their bodies thanks to the event known as “The great shift.”
People affected by SS experience intense longing and nostalgia for their previous life. They feel a deep disconnection from their new body and struggle to adapt to their new physical identity. Meanwhile, they constantly long to return to their old lives, including their relationships, daily routines, and everyday activities.
Symptoms of SS may include episodes of obsessional love, masturbation, anxiety, depression, and dissociation, as well as a decrease in social and occupational functioning. Affected people may manifest compulsive behaviors related to the search for ways to reverse the body exchange and recover their previous life.“
I've been trapped in the body of this overweight middle-aged man named Hiroshi for two years, and one day I just woke up in a room full of trash and on the other side of the world. It had been a few hours since all this had started So it was easy I searched what was happening on the internet I tried to contact my parents, but none of them responded to me even now I haven't seen my parents after so long, maybe they have They've gotten better bodies and now they're having fun. Or maybe they're in one of the many prisons trapped in the body of some convict, I don't know...
At least they can put me in contact with the Old Hiroshi who was now on the beach in Miami enjoying that new teenage body. At first, we wrote to each other every day, trying to go unnoticed among all the chaos of the world. I had to eat. So I decided. Not to tell anyone that he was actually a 16-year-old American teenager instead of a Japanese man my father's age.
The real Hiroshi helped me adjust to my new life, while I naively believed that this was something that would be resolved in a couple of days. But over time I got used to my new job in a restaurant as a dishwasher, I didn't understand the language very well. , but he didn't need it, the real Hiroshi was a quiet and submissive guy, Very different from what the real Hiroshi is like in his new life, as a popular teenager. That he spends his afternoons tanning on the beach and flirting with beautiful girls.
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I used to talk to the real Hiroshi every day, but over time he took longer to respond to the messages, then to look at them and just not respond and over time he started ignoring my calls, now the only thing I know is because of the photographs I uploads to Instagram and social networks of my former friends, I didn't dare tell them the truth, that their former friend was now trapped in the body of a 45 year old obese loser…
I've been saving everything I can to be able to travel back to America and reunite with my old life. Although the salary as a dishwasher is shit, it's better than nothing, but once I'm in front of my old body I don't know if I can control myself... look down and a tiny bulge formed again in my pants from just being in front of my old body.
-Shit….-
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Text
Protect You Always
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pairing : cloud strife x (fem) reader
summary: tifa is sure that cloud has feelings for you. so sure that she accidentally makes you confess.
warnings: none :)
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“Could you go run errands with Cloud today?” Tifa held her hands out to you, mock pleas all over her face. 
“Huh? Why me? Why can’t you?” She backed away, turning to concoct another drink up for you, loosening you up to ask for her favour most likely. 
“Sure I could. But..he seems to have taken a liking to a certain mercenary sitting at my bar.” Suddenly your drink caught in your throat. With flushed cheeks you moved your almost empty cup up to your lips to hide your face as much as possible from anybody listening in. That was crazy. Cloud didn’t feel anything for anybody, except maybe…you thought for Tifa? With her back still turned she let out a small laugh, and you could feel the smile burning on her face. 
“That’s not funny Tifa.” Quickly she turned to face you, startling you enough to set your drink down onto the surface of the bar, as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. 
“And I’m not joking. It’s so obvious. He is the nicest to you out of all of us,” she turned to grab the drink and then returned to hand it to you, “Plus he does literally everything you ask him to for FREE, you think he does that to all of us? No way.” If you thought about it long enough, she might be right. You could think of a couple examples of Cloud maybe showing you a little more attention then the rest of the group. 
He had walked you home from the bar almost every night for the past year that you had known him. Without fail. Without asking. “Girls like you shouldn’t walk around at night by themselves, it’s not safe.”
“I’m completely capable of walking myself home Cloud”.
“I know”
You would have a little too much to drink or none at all, completely sober and capable of walking yourself down the short street of the slums to your apartment. Didn’t matter, he was still walking you home. 
Cloud had never once used the excuse that it was because he lived right above you, and even if he had you would be able to easily tell he was lying because he wouldn’t go home after dropping you at yours. 
There was even that one time where you laid your head down on the surface of the bar for five minutes and had woken up in your bed the next morning unsure of how you had even got there, perhaps Cloud avoiding you the next day had nothing to do with that. 
Sometimes, when a guy would shoot an inappropriate comment in your direction, Cloud’s cheekbones would become more prominent. Why was he clenching his jaw? And why did he suddenly seem all pouty? You never paid much attention to them anyways and carried on with your day without being bothered by a sleazy guy in the street. Maybe it was simply coincidence that Cloud would always disappear for a couple hours after, without a good excuse or just leaving with a prompt, “I’ll see you later, I have something to take care of.”  
However those guys did seem to always end up coming to you with some sort of apology later that day or even the next, roughed up and clearly not there out of free will. 
And when you would ask him to do certain things for you that somebody had asked of him the same day. Tifa was right, he never asked you for payment, you couldn’t even remember a time he had accepted payment from you.. Every time you tried to pay him he refused it, pushing it back towards you. “Let's count it as a favor and say you owe me one.” Your face would scrunch up in annoyance but it would fade just as quickly as it had appeared when a barely noticeable smile would upturn Cloud's lips and his eyes would brighten the smallest bit.
“Who knew someone could have such a nice smile when they're all moody and scary all the time.”
“You think I’m scary?” Cloud seemed to make a habit out of smiling around you after that day. 
The sound of Tifa’s soft laughter had brought you back to the conversation happening in front of you, her eyes were staring into yours and you could feel your cheeks warm at her catching you daydreaming. 
“Thinking about Cloud?” You opened your mouth to retort but another voice interrupted you before you could. 
“Who’s thinking about me?” You were mortified, spinning in your chair to see Cloud approaching the bar, most likely coming to collect Tifa for their run to see who needed help. A job that you, unfortunately, had forgotten before he had made his presence known. 
“Just your favourite girl seated at my bar.” Tifa gleamed, grin wide and it only grew wider when she looked between your faces. You were flushed, embarrassed, eyes full of maybe anger and a want to hide from the earth. Cloud tried to be stoic, but he gave away his true feelings by the obvious pink tint to his cheeks and the way his mouth opened as he looked towards you. Words caught in both of your throats.
“I won’t be going with you today because I have some extra stuff to do around the bar. Is it okay if y/n goes in my place?”
“Uhhh..” Clouds hesitation made you want to crumble into a ball. If Tifa was right , and he did like you, then why wouldn’t he say yes right away? 
“I don’t have to, honestly! I can finish up for you here Tifa!” She’s shot daggers into you with her eyes.
“We’ll whoever’s coming with me, make it quick.” He stared between the two of you, face blank , before turning to go outside. You turned back to look at Tifa not waiting to hear the door close.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” It was your turn to shoot daggers into Tifa. 
“Just go with him, why is it any different than any other time?” In her hands she held a dirty class, wiping it down with a washcloth cloth as she spoke to you.
“Because Tifa now you’ve put this stupid idea in my head that maybe, and that’s a pretty big maybe, Cloud Strife might be feeling the same things I do.” She looked at you, concern rolling around in her eyes, and she looked like she was about to speak but you cut her off. 
“No. Seriously Tifa, I’m tired of you making it seem like me and Cloud might ever be anything other than co-workers. I can’t keep getting my hopes up over the same guy, and you're really not helping.” Her face was soft now, eyes full of pity before they shuffled towards the door. 
“What’s that look for?” You turned your body to follow her eyes. It occurred to, when you met his wide eyes, that you had not actually heard Cloud leave the bar. 
“I’ll be waiting..uhh..outside.” Cloud let out an awkward, silence breaking cough before letting himself out the door. 
“You are joking. This isn’t real. That didn’t happen. Why’d you let me spew like that?”
“I tried to stop you!” Before you could get any angrier at her she took your hands in hers and spoke before you. “I know that right now, in your head, the whole world just crumbled around you. But you should’ve seen the way Clouds face lit up. It was subtle but it was there.”
You went to speak but her finger met your lips. “Trust me. Go with him, and talk to him about this. Do not leave it.”
A sigh left your lips, tickling her finger enough to pull it away from yours lips, “What if you're wrong Tifa?” 
“If I’m wrong, free drinks for a year AND I’ll take over for you on every job with Cloud.” You gave her a somber nod and slipped from the barstool, dragging your feet out the door. 
Just as he had said he would be, Cloud stood not far from the door. From where you stood, and you weren’t entirely certain if you were seeing it right, but his cheeks seemed to be gleaming with an unfamiliar red color. As the door closed behind you, Cloud looked over, trying to hide the color blooming on his face. 
“Let’s go, I wanna get this done before the sun goes down.” He moves down the stairs quickly before you even get a chance to respond and your heart sinks but you follow after him anyways, heart in your stomach. 
The whole ordeal took the two of you maybe an hour and a half, but it felt much much longer. Silence overtook the two of you, both of you being much too stubborn to say the first word, so you worked in complete silence. 
When the job was done you almost slumped over in relief, but your heart had been sinking farther and farther in your body the longer it went on, and it was starting to affect you. 
“Hey Cloud,” the first words spoken between you for the last two hours, “I’m gonna head home if you don’t need anything else.” You couldn’t even hold eye contact, embarrassment burning your face. 
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” You looked up to where his mako tainted eyes were already burning into you, “But I’m still going to. We need to talk.” And with the words, you were sure you could throw up, heart fully sunk now. 
What was there to talk about? How he didn’t feel the same and Tifa had been leading you astray for months?
You walked silently beside him, skin crawling as you waited for him to say something. 
“I don’t think you’re getting your hopes up.” Hesitating, you looked up from your feet and tried to scan his face, but he was glued forwards. 
“What?”
“C’mon don’t make me repeat it. You’re a smart girl, are you gonna wait for me to spell it out?”  He shot a glance towards you and you were sure you saw it. He was red. Definitely not as red as you but the color was there!
Your heart returned back to your chest, almost tripping over your feet as you followed his quick pace. He was a man on a mission, always, and his steps were so hard to match.  “Oh!”
He didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk but he did ensure that you got up to your apartment safely.
“Would you come in for a second?” Cloud hesitated but he followed, closing the door behind him before standing awkwardly with his arms crossed. 
You sat on your bed and tried to think of the right words to say.
“I’m sure that Tifa has made it pretty obvious that I have ..romantic.. feelings for you.” Sitting down on the bed was the wrong move, you felt so much smaller than usual looking up at him, and his attention fully on you wasn’t helping much. 
“No kidding.” He rolled his eyes but let a small chuckle leave his lips. Cloud was usually so stoic, so serious, and you loved how he was never like that with you. It put a smile on your face. 
“Listen y/n,” Cloud moved towards you to sit on the bed beside you, closer than you would’ve expected from him, “I do feel the same.” A wide smile broke out on your face. his expression remained the same. 
“But you have to understand something.” And the smile flew from your face. Cloud was now showing emotion, his hand flying to your cheek, with concern flooding his eyes. 
“No. Don’t be sad,” His thumb rubbed soft circles against your skin and you weren’t even sure if he was consciously doing it, “I don’t want you to be in danger if we do this. I care about you and if people know that, you could be used to get to me. I can’t do that to you.”
You placed your hand on top of his, his thumb stopping its movement when you made contact, your other hand reaching for the one resting in his lap. “For you, I can be okay with that.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt, ever.” 
“Hey! I can handle myself pretty well, you know,” His face was still so serious, and it was making you nervous, “Besides I have my own personal bodyguard.” You pushed his shoulder gently, and a small smile broke out on his face. 
“Cloud?"
"Hm?"
"Could I..kiss you?” His mouth opened slightly, but he only nodded. 
Gently, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in until he was close enough. His lips brushed against yours and they parted just a little more, you froze in front of him in a moment of flustered hesitation. Cloud took his chance in that moment and pushed his lips onto yours, still holding your cheek in his large, rough hand. 
It was quiet and you would’ve felt nervous, if it wasn’t for Cloud’s hands on your skin keeping you so stuck in the monet, and his surprisingly soft lips still held against you.
When he pulled away, his face was still centimeters from your face with your lips still touching slightly, and you almost crumbled from looking into his blown out eyes. You were certain that you looked the same way, your pupils always seemed to be huge when you looked at him anyways. 
“I promise I will always protect you.”
“Always?” His hand found yours, holding your fingers within his own, as gently as he could.
“Forever and always.”
736 notes · View notes
tojiluv · 3 months
Text
EYES DON’T LIE — choso kamo [chapter one]
﹟ description: IN WHICH a girl unwittingly becomes involved with a handsome stranger in a club, oblivious to his true identity of being in a famous boyband…OR IN WHICH you and Choso must conceal your secret meetings from your friends and his bandmates, especially from his younger brother and your best friend, Yuji.
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warnings: none at the moment | words: 1,289
note: choso kamo x fem reader. available on wattpad —babyatsumu
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"Is your brother finally back?"
With a radiant grin, Yuji vigorously nods, and his excitement is palpable from the gleam in his eyes. The news of his elder brother's return after almost two years apart has filled him with joy.
"He's been back for nearly two weeks, but he was staying at the hotel with the band to iron out some scheduling issues. He came home last night!" He exclaims, enthusiasm bubbling over.
Having completed your last class of the day, you step out of the door, and Yuji rushes towards you to share the exhilarating news. As you both make your way away from the building, you and Yuji decide to meet up with Megumi and Nobara at a cafe on campus to catch up on some homework.
You respond with a hum, reciprocating the grin on your friend's face. "That's wonderful news! What are your plans now that he's back?" Yuji leisurely walks beside you, arms casually behind his head, deep in thought about the possibilities. "Well, I don't know yet, but I think one of his bandmates is hosting a party this week to celebrate the success of the tour."
Hallow Domain – the boy band with a total of five members, Choso included. Yuji always mentions the band, but you never took the time to look them up, only catching a few songs that your best friend would insist you listen to. Their music suited your taste, appreciating any genre with a good beat and meaningful lyrics.
Yuji is their number one fan, especially with his older brother being an integral part of the group.
"A party, huh? Where's it going to be hosted?" you inquire, placing your bag on the table at the café before settling into your seat. Megumi and Nobara are already seated, papers scattered around them as they work, until the mention of 'party' catches their attention, one expressing interest and the other sighing.
"A party? Why wasn't I informed?" Nobara squeals, her papers losing priority.
Yuji chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, it's a celebration for my brother's band."
"Your brother is back?" Megumi asks before sighing, "That means Gojo is back, damn."
"What's wrong with Gojo?" you inquire.
Megumi shakes his head, "Everything. But mainly, he used to babysit me most of the time when my dad wasn't home, even though I was old enough to take care of myself. He always bothered me."
Yuji chuckles, "Well, Gojo is hosting the party at his house since it's the biggest."
Nobara narrows her eyes, clasping her hands under her chin as she scrutinizes their youngest friend. "Are we invited?"
"Well, I don't think—"
"You better get us an invite. No. Matter. What," she seethes out slowly, glaring as Yuji flinches before nodding quickly. You chuckle at the scene as you proceed to work on your project that is due soon, while the rest of the group engages in a lively discussion (mainly Yuji and Nobara) about the upcoming party until your name is mentioned.
"Maybe you'll finally get to meet Choso in person rather than hearing a bunch of nonsense stories from Yuji," Nobara states, grinning at you.
"Hey, they are really good stories!"
"Keep thinking that."
"Why you—"
It's true, though; you've never met Yuji's older brother since you became friends two years ago. Nobara and Megumi have already met Choso and the rest of the band due to their connections and having known Yuji since high school. You've met some of the bandmates, such as Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto, as they had breaks in the middle of the tour for a couple of days. Still, every time you had the chance to meet Choso, something always came up that prevented the encounter.
Yuji has shown you pictures of the man, but they were pretty old, and apparently, Choso hated having his picture taken most of the time. Yet, the stories your best friend has shared have made you appreciate how Choso always prioritizes Yuji, especially being the only blood family he has left besides their deadbeat mother.
You shrug, "I doubt I could go, I have some homework to catch up on."
Nobara whines, "What? No, you have to go! It will be a lot of fun, and you'll regret not coming, come on!"
"You know she's right, homework is more important," Megumi comments lowly, his eyes focusing on his paper as Nobara glares at the Sea Urchin.
"Stay out of this, you're making it worse!"
He shrugged, not really caring for his remark, "I was just stating the facts."
Sighing, you know that Nobara won't let this go until you say yes, and you don't feel the energy to go, especially since you already went partying almost two weeks ago at a club with her and Maki. But the girl keeps begging, and you know she won't stop anytime soon, as you can see Megumi plugging his ears from the whining.
"Fine! I'll go, but please stop the begging," you exclaim, annoyance evident on your face from the pressure.
Nobara grins, sitting back down in her seat in victory with no complaints as the dark-haired male shakes his head at your response for losing your main focus.
"You will thank me later for this! Plus, you'll meet Choso, he's quite the looker, you know." She winks while Yuji scrunches up his face in disgust.
"That's my brother, don't say that stuff," he whines, covering his ears.
Nobara rolls her eyes, waving their friend's tantrum away. "What? That your brother is hot? It's just an observation."
"Yeah, a disgusting one at that! None of you can think like that about my brother, that's just weird and would be going behind my back," Yuji claims, shivering at the thought of one of his friends hooking up with his half-brother.
Chuckling, you place your hand over his in comfort, "Don't worry, Yuji. She's just making jokes, right Nobara?" The ginger rolls her eyes, "About him being attractive? Nope."
You glare, urging her to just resolve the issue.
"Yeah, yeah. That won't happen, relax, Pinky." Nobara sighs, looking at her pedicure without care. Yuji's eye twitches, "I told you to stop calling me Pinky!"
"Well, your hair is pink if you haven't noticed,"
"That's not what I mean!"
You and Megumi sigh, already annoyed with the constant arguing that happens at least once every day. Standing up from your seats and grabbing your bags, you both choose to ignore the bickering friends and decide to head out to focus better.
"They never will stop, will they?" You question, linking arms with the taller boy who shakes his head. "It's funny if you think there's a chance they ever will."
"Hey, don't leave us here!"
As you and Megumi walk away from the cafe, leaving behind the chaos of your friends' arguments, you can't help but laugh at the familiarity of their interactions. Despite the constant bickering, it's clear that your group shares a strong bond.
Megumi holds a ghost of a smile, glancing at you. "They're a handful, but I wouldn't trade them for anything."
You chuckle, "True. It's never a dull moment with them around."
As you stroll across the campus, the conversation shifts to the upcoming party. Megumi, always the reserved one, seems less enthusiastic about the idea of attending a celebration. However, you can't deny a slight sense of curiosity about meeting Yuji's older brother, Choso, in person.
"So, any tips on surviving a party hosted by Gojo?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
Megumi sighs, "Prepare for chaos. Gojo knows how to throw a wild party. Just go with the flow and try not to get involved with any of the members."
Noted, you think.
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⇽ meet the characters | chapter two ⇾
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© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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riordanness · 3 months
Text
enchanté — [n.sheff]
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wordcount: 1.2K
warnings: none
requested: no
tags: @honey-ambrosia my wife <33 (send her love or else)
a/n: idk?? i just had a random idea while watching this movie for the first time so enjoy i guess. nic is defo ooc, doesn’t do drugs in this fic either, and i know basically none of the movie plot yet. feel free to request nic sheff fics tho! <3
“Nice to meet you.” I smile; and shake my new roommate's hand. He seems nice enough, with pretty green eyes and curly brown hair.
He smiles back, then heads into our dorm room. I turn back to my conversation with the other girls in our hallway. Turns out there wasn’t an even number of girls or boys this year, so I got shoved into a dorm room with a guy. Not that that’s the worst thing that could’ve happened to me; he’s kinda cute.
One of the other new girls, I think she said her name was Alexa, nudges me. “Damn, I wish I was the not-so-unlucky girl stuck with a boy. He is hot.”
I shrug. “He’s not bad. He’s probably got a girlfriend though. Or he’s gay.” I nudge her back. “Doesn’t matter that much; he’s probably the kind of guy who spends all his time not in his dorm room. More time alone for me.”
I say goodbye and turn towards my bedroom door. I stop just before it, though, when I hear voices.
“Yeah, she seems nice, she’s just in the hall,” I hear my roommate say. I’m not entirely sure who he’s talking to, but then another person speaks, a much older man, and I remember his father is here.
“I feel for you though…” His father laughs, and I hear the sound of cds clacking together, and I realise that they’re my cds.
I internally cringe. Why did I decide to set up my cds? My roommate definitely thinks I’m a total loser freak now. I visualise my collection. Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Chase Atlantic, Melanie Martinez, Joshua Bassett, and the Chainsmokers. Pretty much screams ‘basic white girl’ doesn’t it?
I knock on the doorframe, stepping into view. “Hey,” I say, waving a little at his father. “Nice to meet you.”
My roommate’s father hastily shoves my cds back onto my desk. “You too. I’m Nic’s father.” He stands and offers me his hand. I shake it, offering a smile.
“Well…” Nic’s father pats his pockets. “I’d best be going.” He gives his son a hug, who stands and grips his father tightly.
I feel awkward, like I’m interrupting something.
“Everything,” Nic whispers.
“Everything.”
Though I have no idea what that means, I think it’s adorable.
His father leaves, and the two of us stand for a moment. Then I drop my bag on the floor next to my bed and flop myself onto it.
“What’s your name?” Nic asks quietly. “I’m Nic.”
I prop myself up on one elbow. “I know. I’m y/n.”
He nods. “Cool.”
There’s silence for a couple more seconds, more than feels comfortable.
I blow out my breath. “My friend thinks you’re cute.”
He laughs in surprise. “Is that a pick-up line?”
“No.” I glance at him. “She literally does think that.”
“Okay.” Another pause. “My dad thinks your music taste sucks.”
I glance over at my cd collection, which is now in an unorganised pile on my desk, compliments to Nic’s father. “Mm.”
“It’s not bad, though,” he offers. “I love Chase Atlantic.”
I raise an eyebrow, and meet his eyes. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhmmm. Vibes, Into It, Friends, Meddle About, CALL ME BACK, Church, some of my favourite songs ever.”
I make an impressed face. “Okay, okay. I’ll accept that.”
“The other stuff though?” He makes a face. “Taylor Swift? Really?”
I sit up. “Yes. Taylor Swift really.” I grab my notebook out of my bag and relax onto my pillows. “Now shh while I write this idea down.”
He suddenly looks interested. “You write?”
“Duh.”
“No, no,” he tries to backtrack. “I mean, I write too. That’s why I’m here. To study writing.”
I look at him over the top of my notebook. “You? A writer?” i don’t mean to sound incredulous, but I probably do.
He nods sincerely. “I love to write. What kind of things do you write?”
“Umm…” I stare up at the ceiling. “All kinds. Poetry, fiction, lyrics, fanfiction, essays, critiques, anything really. I just love anything to do with words and writing.” I swing my legs over the side of my bed, facing him. “What about you?”
“Me too. Anything.”
I nod. “Can I read something of yours sometime?”
He shoots me a crooked smile. “Only if I can read yours.”
“Deal.”
We shake hands, and I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t flutter a little.
It’s been six weeks of sharing a dorm with Nic Sheff, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love every second.
Turns out, he’s amazing. At like, everything. His writing is incredible, at least the little I’ve seen so far. He can skateboard like nobody’s business. He can sing, speak French, and apparently, braid hair. (I know from experience, trust me on this).
“Hey, tresses,” Nic says, throwing his backpack on the floor, and himself on my bed.
I was at my desk, trying to study. “Hey,” I reply absentmindedly.
“You got class this afternoon?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
“Same one as me?”
“Probably.”
“Y/n…” he whines, picking up my Spider-Man squishmallow and throwing it at me. “Pay attention to me.”
I glance up. “What?”
“Do you have the poetry class in twenty minutes? The one we both take?” He asks the question slowly.
I read my timetable quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“Okay. Let’s go then, it’s a bit of a walk and we do not want to be late.”
I shut my laptop. “Fine. Let’s go then.”
He jokingly offers me his arm, and instead of taking it like a lady, I hit him. “Ow, y/n!” he complains.
I giggle. “Come on, Nic. We don’t wanna be late.” I mimic his earlier words.
He rolls his eyes. “You’re awful, tresses.”
“You love me.”
He doesn’t reply to that.
“Alright, Mr Steff, would you like to read your poem aloud now?” Mr Day asks the boy.
Nic glances nervously at me, for some reason, then stands as he nods at our teacher. “Yes, sir.”
He unfolds a crumpled piece of paper, clears his throat, and licks his lips in the cute way he always does when he’s worried or nervous.
“Mon amour,
Oh, how I adore you.
The way you make me feel, my love,
it’s like I’d give anything for one of your smiles.
The fact that I can’t say ‘je vous aime’,
well, ça me tue à l’intérieur.
j’ai été enchanté de te rencontrer,
mon amour.
je pense que tu es á ma place.
Mon amour,
Oh, how I adore you.
Je vous aime.”
A brief silence follows Nic’s poem, then a round of applause, louder than any I’d heard here before.
He looks at me, and for a split second I don’t know why. Then it clicks.
“Me?” I ask weakly. “You wrote that… for me?”
He smiles shyly. “I love you.”
The whole class cheers, and we get another round of applause.
My mouth is open, and my heart is racing, but I know I want to say it too. But for some reason, when I open my mouth, the words won’t come out. So I do the only other thing I can think of.
I stand up, grab Nic by the collar, and pull him into a kiss.
The cheering gets a whole lot louder after that.
translation:
“My love,
Oh, how I adore you.
The way you make me feel, my love,
it’s like I’d give anything for one of your smiles.
The fact that I can’t say ‘I love you’,
Well, it kills me inside.
I was enchanted to meet you,
my love.
I think you belong with me.
My love,
Oh, how I adore you.
I love you.”
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spaghettioverdose · 7 months
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how did u went from anarchism to ml question mark
I was just going to write a couple paragraphs but I basically ended up writing a novel so I'm going to put a keep reading link here for my everyone's sanity.
Tl;dr: I became disillusioned with liberalism, became ancom, saw many silly takes and analysis that felt incomplete, became disillusioned with ancom, learned more about ml, went "this makes way more sense, has been applied in real life and has also helped many millions of people", became an ml.
I became an anarchist when I was in my late teens. I was already disillusioned with liberalism, and while I was sympathetic to socialism because I come from a formerly socialist country and grew up with stories about it from my grandmother, I was still of wary of it. Partially due to some of the genuinely bad things that happened during it and partially due to the immense amounts of anti-communist propaganda I was constantly bombarded with growing up. Then I found anarcho-communism which to me at the time seemed like "communism with none of the bad stuff".
I got into it, I watched ancom youtubers, I read Kropotkin, Graeber, Bakunin, I joined online ancom communities etc.
Slowly, over time I started becoming disillusioned with ancoms.I found myself having to defend marxist-leninist projects a lot (mostly from usamericans) against some very silly cold war anticommunist propaganda a lot. Such as the idea that everyone was just miserable and trying to escape the country or brainwashed by the leader's cult of personality.
Keep in mind that I myself ate up a lot of anticommunist propaganda growing up, but I also come from a formerly socialist country and had someone who was around during the socialist era of my country to ground my view of it in reality to some extent. Most of the ancoms in these communities only had the propaganda.
I also didn't like the way so many of these people talked more about an idealised, aestheticised, romanticised and abstract idea of revolution, and especially past failed anarchist revolutions, rather than talking about the material results of revolution.
Even when I still was mostly convinced by anarchist theory, I still found anarchist analysis to be incomplete and lacking predictive power and real world practice. Other anarchists tended to excuse the fact we didn't have a lot of revolutions and that the vast majority of them were crushed within their first couple years by saying things like "we were up against everyone" or "we were betrayed" which didn't really hold up. The bolsheviks had to fight everyone as well and yet they still won. Same with the Chinese communists who were also against massive internal and external threats. This is because in both cases they had popular support and were capable of analysing the material conditions and formulating policies based on that.
Another rebuttal was that every socialist revolution was state capitalism because it didn't adhere to a very simplified definition of socialism. I thought that lacked nuance and in the end it mattered to me less than the fact that it got results and helped millions of people, but it didn't prevent me from internalising this to some extent. I did (for at least some time) think that most ml states were incomplete revolutions that eventually fell to state capitalism.
When I did believe to these ideas I often fell into pits of despair, as did other ancoms, over the fact that in our world view, communism was essentially entirely defeated and at best we (as anarchists) had two current revolutions: the Zapatista (a group who follows marxist theory, refuses to call itself anarchis and controls a very small region and only due to an agreement with the government) and Rojava (who also controls a small region, is a military ally of the US and has a constitution which guarantees private property and definitely fits the anarchist definition of a state).
The holes in anarchist theory became even larger and more apparent to me once I started reading Marx and Lenin. The contrast in the explanatory and predictive power of dialectical materialism against the philosophical idealism of anarchist analysis eroded my remaining trust in anarchism very quickly.
Anarchist analysis severely lacked much class analysis beyond "people do evil things to each other because of the profit incentive of capitalism" and "power wants to hold onto power" which while in some ways is correct, it is vastly incomplete. Which is why the conclusion of this analysis, that after an anarchist revolution the profit incentive would simply be gone and so would reactionaries, also felt incomplete.
As it turns out it's also historically been proven wrong. Revolution doesn't stop when the civil war ends and that capitalists (even if disposessed) don't suddenly stop being reactionary and don't suddenly stop being a danger to the revolution.
However many anarchists also viewed historical events in a vacuum and lacked any sort of tools for materialist analysis and therefore came to silly conclusions about why things happened the way they did.
Many propositions on how an anarchist society would run resembled some variation of Old West homesteading, medieval peasant communes or some other strange individualist fantasies.
In the end I realised about anarchism that it entirely resembled the philosophically idealist utopian communism of old. A form of communism that lost the debate against the scientific communism of Marx, Engles and Lenin over a century ago and there is no reason to engage with it in the present day.
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bad268 · 11 months
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Could u write a princess of Monaco and Arthur lecrelc , I see this being written so much for Charles and none for Arthur
thank you :)
Queen of Monaco (Arthur Leclerc X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3
Requested: Clearly (haha we have the same mind bc I was already drafting this before you requested it)
Warnings: death of parents and brother (mentioned), google translate, the Monaco curse is affecting Arthur now and that's a warning itself bro. I am in denial about the race results today, so I made this to make me happy.
Pronouns: She/Her
W.C. 4108
Summary: The beginning of the relationship between Arthur Leclerc and the Queen of Monaco.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(@/Arthur's insta from January 29, 2023)
It was a normal day in Monaco. It was not a race week, and there were no pressing matters to attend. I had just returned to Monaco last week after attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the United States, but I just received my Bachelor's degree and wanted to return home before starting my Master's. I decided to take my first semester online, so I could go home and spend time with my family.
When I got back, my parents urgently began to train me for the throne even though I was not next in line. Despite having an older brother who was scheduled to become the King of Monaco after my parents, he had to serve in the military before he could move forward. They wanted to have me prepare in the event that something happened to him in battle. 
I had never really been in the public eye due to my brother being the next in line. He was always the one attending meetings, trainings, and keeping up appearances. I was free to do as I pleased for the most part, but in 2015, they sent me to a training school in London. It taught the basics of monarchy and the foundations of how to run a country. It was the same one my brother attended. Even in my spare time, I found my passion in mechanical engineering and aerodynamics. It took some persuasion, but my parents allowed me to attend MIT after my graduation because they were so sure that I would not be needed. My brother is in the final stages of the training. All he needed to do was finish the last few months of military training, and then he would be crowned. 
Upon my return, I learned that my mother was ill, so they wanted to get my brother crowned quickly. However, they practically had to start from square one since I was provided very minimal training in London. My father was furious, not at me, but at the situation they had been placed in. They told me the best thing I could do while they prepare the training is to memorize Monaco as it had been nearly seven years since I had been here. 
I was walking down the pier, looking at all of the little shops that lined the pavement and the boats at the dock. There was a small ice cream shop, a couple of clothing stores, a few restaurants, and a salon. I realized that I had not had my hair professionally done since before college, so I thought it would be a good idea to treat myself.
“Bonjour, comment puis-je vou aider? (Hello, how can I help you?)” A lady greeted me as I stepped through the door. It was a small shop, no one else was in there, but it was cute and welcoming other than the fact that I could not remember French for the life of me.
“I’m sorry, my French is no good,” I replied sheepishly, fully prepared to leave, but the woman stopped me.
“Oh, not a problem, dear. My name is Pascale, what can I help you with?” She smiled, kindly, leading me over to one of the chairs. 
“Well, I haven’t gotten my hair done in almost four years, so I think it’s time to freshen up,” I explained. 
“Oh perfect, I can most certainly help with that,” She laughed, placing an apron around my shoulders. “Are you thinking about dye, highlights, trim, cutting…” She started listing more but I couldn't follow along with all of the terminology. 
“Uh, probably just a trim,” I chuckled, “my parents would kill me if I showed up with short, dyed hair.”
“Not a problem at all,” she grinned and began cutting the ends, little by little, as we made small conversations. “What do you do for work?”
“I actually don’t have a job at the moment,” technically, “but I just came back from the United States. I was at MIT for the last four years, getting my bachelors in mechanical engineering and aerodynamics, and before that, I attended boarding school in London.”
“That’s interesting,” she hummed, “Sounds like you like Formula 1?”
“Not so much the races. I just like the cars,” I laughed in response. “I like learning what could make the cars better, faster, stronger, and safer, but the actual races aren't something for me. I watched one too many accidents end badly, so I can never find enjoyment in it anymore. The last race I went to was in Japan, and I lost my best friend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that, dear. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Pascale consoled. I looked at her confused through the mirror. She just set the scissors down just as her phone got a notification. She pulled out her phone and opened the notification. It was a text message with a picture. “That is my son, Charles, and his best friend, Pierre. They’re in Formula 1. They went out karting today, and he just sent me this.”
“Oh, Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly! I know them,” I recognized immediately. “That’s your son?”
“Yeah, he’s always had this passion for driving, so I’m proud to see him living his dreams,” She smiled, putting her phone back, and resumed cutting my hair.
“Well, I’m proud of him too, and I don’t even know him.” I laughed. 
“Maybe, if you’d ever change your mind, you could join us for a race,” Pascale offered. “Only if you’re up for it.”
“I’ll have to see, but probably not,” I declined nervously. 
“It’s not a problem, dear,” She said, patting my shoulders. “But you are all done. How do you like it?”
My hair was shorter by a couple of inches, but it felt so much lighter and healthier than it did earlier today. “I love it so much, Pascale! Thank you so much! How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing, just promise you’ll think about joining us? It would do you some good to get to know more people, and you could even check out the cars before the race! If you’re not comfortable staying for the race, you can always leave. Just promise you’ll think about it before immediately rejecting it?” She pleaded.
“Fine, I’ll think about it,” I laughed, “but only because you were so persuasive!”
The next time I was out in the streets was nearly a week later. My time was being packed with different trainings and attending private events, but nothing public yet so as to not stir up controversy. I decided to go to a local bakery and get some tea and some food. The food in the castle just did not compare to my favorite bakery. Not by a long shot. 
When I walked in, there were not a lot of people in there. It was a small shop with only two tables and a counter. There was the person behind the counter, Ella, and three people at the tables. One sat by himself and the other two occupied the second table. I approached Ella and ordered a tea and sandwich. She said she would bring it right over once it was finished, and I approached the man sitting by himself.
“Bonjour,” I greeted, my French was slowly coming back to me but not enough to carry a full conversation. The man looked up from his phone at me. He had blue eyes and shady blonde hair. He had airpods in and took one out as I approached the table. “My name is Y/n. Would it be alright if I sit with you? The other table is filled.”
 “Of course,” He responded immediately, moving the bag that was hanging on the other chair to the floor. “I’m Arthur.”
“Nice to meet you, Arthur. Thank you for letting me sit with you,” I laughed, taking the seat that he pulled out for me. “I really appreciate that.”
“It’s my pleasure,” He chuckled along, “It was just empty anyway.”
~
That was the start of an inseparable bond. It was strange having someone so close again because even though I had some friends in school, they were never as close as Arthur was. For the first couple of months, any time that was not filled with training was spent with each other. Whether it be chilling in his apartment, driving around Monaco, boat rides, and random trips around France and Italy, we were content with doing random acts of entertainment. It didn’t take long before he asked me to be his girlfriend.
One thing we knew would be difficult is the time commitments. With his recent change from Formula 3 to Formula 2 and more royal training for me, we knew it was going to be more time-consuming. That didn’t stop us, however. Tuesdays were the most random day of the week, but neither of us had any responsibilities.
One day in particular, the day before he was set to go to Australia, we were at his apartment, and I was helping him pack since he *conveniently* forgot. We had gone to get smoothies and acai bowls earlier that morning before heading to his apartment. Then, after we ate, we put on some music as background noise while we packed and conversed back and forth.
“Would you ever come to a race with me?” He asked as he pulled a couple of shirts out of his closet. “I know you didn’t have a good experience at the last one, but would you be willing to give it another time?”
“I don’t know, A. I get anxiety just knowing you’re racing,” I explained. Moving to fold the shirts he’s pulling out. 
“That sound like an improvement!” He laughed, jumping over and wrapping his arms around my shoulders as I put the folded clothes in the suitcase. “When we first started talking, you said no immediately. Now, you’re saying you don’t know.”
“What can I say?” I leaned back into his embrace, “You are pretty persuasive.”
“What are the chances of you coming to the Monaco Grand Prix with me?”
“The odds are in your favor since I don’t go anywhere,” I laughed in response. He turned me around in his arms. He was pouting and had his head tilted slightly. “No, don’t do the puppy face. You know I can’t say no to that face.”
“Please?”
With a heavy sigh and a joking eye roll, I caved. I was about to vocalize my decision, but my phone started ringing. This time, my sigh was out of annoyance after seeing it was from Mila, my personal guard and trainer.  “I need to answer that, but yes, I promise to go to the Monaco Grand Prix with you.”
“Of course,” He exclaimed, kissing me all over my face. “I will take care of everything. You go take the call, and I’ll finish packing in here.”
With a small smile, I walked out of his bedroom to the living room and stepped out onto the balcony before answering the phone. “Hi, Mila. What did I forget?”
“Nothing, but are you near the palace?” She responded. Just the tone of her voice made me nervous.
“Not really, I’m about 20 minutes away. Do I need to head back?” 
“Yes, let me know when you get here.” And with that, she hung up. I walked back in to see Arthur with his suitcase fully packed by the door.
“I need to head home,” I started. “Something’s not right.”
“That’s fine,” He reassured, pulling me into a hug. “I’ll need to head out for my flight soon anyway, so I’ll walk you to your car.” 
During the drive back, my mind wandered. Was there a meeting I missed? I couldn’t remember having anything scheduled on a Tuesday. Most meetings were on Mondays or Wednesdays and policy training sessions were Thursdays and Fridays. Maybe there was a last-minute meeting.
Pulling through the gates, I texted Mila once I parked in our car park, and a few guards were waiting for me. “Hi, what did I miss?”
“Y/n, we need to talk,”  one of the guards, Chris, said, and right then, I knew things were worse than I thought. We walked through the corridors to reach one of the meeting rooms, but the only person in there was Mila. The guards immediately turned around and left the room.
“Mila-”
“Have a seat,” She cut me off, gesturing to the seat next to her. I took it hesitantly as I looked at her skeptically. “So, I’m not going to beat around the bush with this. As you know, your mother, the queen, was sick.”
“I assume she died then? That’s what this was for?” I cut her short. However, there was something on her face that said she wasn’t finished. “Okay, I’ll let you continue.”
She shook her head dismissively, “No, it’s fine, but you’re right. She passed away early this morning.”
“So my brother will be crowned when he comes back?”
“That’s the next news,” Mila paused. I encouraged her to just rip the bandaid off because I was getting impatient. “Your father went to the base to get your brother, but there was an explosion. There was a gas leak, and somehow the building they were in exploded. We’re still waiting on the details.”
“Wait, so my entire family…” I trailed off, but she knew where I was going. She just nodded solemnly as she pulled me into her side. “So that means…”
“It means you are to be the queen.”
~
Third POV
Ever since the Melbourne Grand Prix, Arthur has been talking about how his girlfriend was going to join him on the paddock for the Monaco Grand Prix. To say that his friends and brothers teased him would be putting it lightly. Any chance they could, they asked questions about this “girlfriend” of his that they had never heard of, and Arthur was willing to spill all of the details. On the Thursday before the Monaco Grand Prix when he was driving to the track with Charles, he accidentally let it slip that he actually had not heard from her recently. He asked Charles to check his phone to see if she had texted him recently.
“Wait, you haven't heard from her in over a month and you’re not at all worried?” Charles asked, very concerned for someone he’s never met.
“No, we’ve definitely texted recently,” Arthur responded in disbelief. When they pulled up to a red light, Charles showed him that the last message from her was April 1. “No, we’ve definitely talked.”
“Here, pull over. We’ll switch, so you can call her, and I’ll drive us the rest of the way to the track,” Charles said, already getting out of the car as soon as they were on the shoulder. He immediately dialed her number, and after a few rings, it went to voicemail. He thought about leaving her a voice message, but she was already calling him back before he could start.
“Hey, traffic is hideous, but I’m almost there,” She started her explanation. She was sitting in the backseat with a couple of guards, and Mila as her driver took them to the track. “Are you already there?”
“No, we’re not there yet,” he laughed. “Charles and I are still stuck in traffic, but we noticed that I hadn’t messaged you since the Australian Grand Prix. Thought I would call to see if you were still coming.” Charles was half listening to the conversation, but he was smiling to himself, hearing how lovestruck his younger brother sounded.
“Oh, definitely,” She chuckled. Mila nudged the girl with a knowing grin. “I’ve just been insanely busy recently, but I promised. On the bright side, I finished my training!”
“No way, I’m so proud of you, ma chéri!” Arthur cheered. Charles was a little confused as he pulled into the track, but let it go, knowing Arthur would explain it later. “Does that mean there will be a ceremony or something?”
“You could call it a ceremony, yes,” She giggled. She noticed that they were only a few blocks away from the car park of the track, so she turned her phone away toward her shoulder as she directed a question to Mila, “Could I jump out and meet up with Arthur before the race? I promise I’ll be careful, and I’ll be in the box before it starts.” Mila turned to discuss it with one of the guards who was entirely against it. “Please, I won’t leave Arthur’s side, and you know he’s trustworthy.”
“I won’t let her out of my sight, Mila!” Arthur’s voice could be heard through the phone despite it not being on speaker. She gestured to the phone at her shoulder as Mila tried to reason with the guard.
“I’ll go with you,” Mila said as she started collecting their passes and jumping out of the car that was stopped in the traffic going into the parking lot. Y/n immediately climbed out of the back, pulling her phone back up to her ear.
“Alright, Arthur, where do you want us to meet you?”
~~
First POV
“You seem to have gotten shorter since Melbourne,” I laughed as I ran into Arthur’s arms from where he was waiting at the Dams garage. 
“You’re wearing heels,” he pointed out after we pulled away. “What are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”
“You say that like you don’t like me in heels,” I teased back.
“Ok, lovebirds,” Mila pulled our attention away from each other, “I am going to head up to our seats. Don’t tell anyone I left.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. Thank you, Mila,” I responded as she started walking away.
“You have seats?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to rely on you for the passes for Mila, so she bought us hospitality seats,” I explain. It wasn’t the whole truth, but I could not just tell him that in the open. “Is it possible to talk somewhere away from the cameras?”
“You’re not breaking up with me, right?” He immediately jumped to conclusions.
“No, no, no, no,” I quickly shut down. “Je t’aime trop pour partir, mon amour. I just want to tell you something. (I love you too much to leave, my love)”
“Je t’aime, ma belle, (I love you, my beauty)” He whispered, pulling me in for a light kiss before leading me back towards the driver’s room he shares with Ayumu. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I took a seat on one of the beanbags as Arthur sat right next to me. I took a deep breath before deciding the best way to tell him was just to say it fast. “Arthur, I need to tell you about my family.”
“Are you trying to have me meet your family already? You could meet my brothers and maman today if you want,” He rambled.
“I can meet them, but you won’t be able to meet my family. That day you left for Australia was the day I found out they passed away.” I paused looking at his reactions. He looked sorrowful as he grasped my hands and ran his thumbs across the backs of my hands. “Maman had an illness, and papa went to get my brother from the base.”
“Your brother’s in the military?” He asked.
“Was,” I answered. He looked even more confused at that before I continued. “He was serving in the military as his last stage of training. Kind of like my trainings, he had to serve in the military.”
“What kind of training did you need to do? Was this part of your degree or something?”
“No, that’s the big secret I haven’t been able to tell you,” I whispered, putting my head down as I felt guilty for not explaining this sooner.
“Anything you have to say, I will accept you either way,” He reassured me as he pulled me into his chest and kissed my head. “I understand that you have your reasons for hiding some things, so whatever this is, it is not going to stop me from loving you.”
“What if it is complex with more spotlight than you already have?” I asked, throwing my head to rest on his shoulder and looking into his blue eyes. “What if it’s a big change?”
“When we go public, it will be a big change, but I’m willing to do anything for you, ma princesse.”
“Reine, (Queen)” I whispered.
“Quoi? (What)” He responded just as fast.
“What if I told you my parents were the king and queen of Monaco? And my older brother was the prince of Monaco? And now that they’re gone, I will be the queen of Monaco? What would you do?” 
He went silent for a few seconds before whispering, “Are you serious?” My silence was enough of an answer for him to jump up, pulling me with him as he starts laughing and spinning us in circles. He set me down after a couple of spins before holding me at arm's length,  “I would completely understand. I mean you probably didn’t plan on taking the throne because of your brother, and you’d just come back from studying. I only tell people who need to know, and when we met, I wasn’t someone who needed to know. We haven't talked since you found out, so I could never be upset with something like that.”
“But now, if we tell people, you will be heavily scrutinized as people will see you as a potential king,” I signed, happy to know he isn’t upset with me, but still wanting him to see all sides before completely agreeing to move forward. “You’d have more on your list.”
“The only question I would have is if it would interfere with racing,” He turned serious.
“I would never let them keep you from your passions,” I laughed. “They have to respect it by order of the queen.”
“Well, then I would see no issues against continuing to be by your side, ma reine,” he chuckled with a mocking bow.
“Merci mon beau prince, (Thank you my handsome prince)” I mocked back, “now by order of the queen, go win this race.”
~~
“And Arthur Leclerc passes Fredrik Vesti in the final turn of the race,” Crofty shouted over the radio during the final lap of the race. I was up in the hospitality seats with Mila and the guards but headed down to the pitlane a couple of laps before since I was going to be presenting the trophies. I was standing at the pit wall with Charles, Lorenzo, and Pascale, who I met (again) just before the race. “The Monaco Curse is broken for Arthur Leclerc as he wins his first Monaco Grand Prix!”
 I left the pit wall to meet everyone at the podium and stopped to meet up with Mila on my way over. She and the guards escorted me through the crowds. “I’ll tell you now, one of you will need to tell Arthur not to out our relationship when I give him his trophy.”
At the podium, I stood behind the steps as Alice announces the winners. “In third place, we have Théo Pourchaire! In second place, we have Frederik Vesti! And in first place, breaking the Monaco Curse, the home favorite, Arthur Leclerc! Presenting the trophies today is the future Queen of Monaco, Y/n.”
“I’m proud of you,” I said to Arthur as I handed him the trophy.
“Merci, now if only Charles could win,” He joked, taking the trophy and posing with it.
“I’ll tell him you’re talking crap about him,” I teased back, moving away to grab the next trophy for Dams. I handed them all out and expressed my congratulations to the other two drivers before posing for the picture and immediately ducking back as I knew Arthur would try to spray me. I walked down the stairs to meet up with Charles before he heads back to Ferrari for his own race. “Arthur’s talking shit about you. You better win.”
“I’m starting sixth, so we have hope,” Charles responded as he rolled his eyes.
“Just don’t box for hards at the last lap again and you’ll be fine,” I laughed as if it were really that simple. 
“Maybe I broke the curse for both of us or maybe I just had some good luck today,” Arthur said, coming up behind us and throwing his arm around my shoulders.
“Oh yeah, what good luck did you have?” Charles teased, punching Arthur into me.
“Maybe just the future queen of Monaco.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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theemporium · 1 year
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15 with steve please!
15. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
.
As sad as it sounded, Steve got pretty used to people zoning out when he spoke. 
Yeah, he had people who fawned over him and girls who flirted with him and guys who wanted to be him when he reigned as King Steve, but none of them ever really listened to him. Neither did his teammates on his basketball team. Neither did his parents. 
Nobody ever really focused on the words he said, nobody ever really bothered to remember them either. 
Things shifted when the world of the Upside Down came crashing into his life. When his close knit group of friends became a group of rangly kids that Steve never considered would change his life for the better. When he learnt that popularity and numbers meant shit when you had people who would die for you, who would care if you died even. 
And as much as he loved and adored his little found family, his luck with girls didn’t become any better as the years passed.
When he was King Steve, they just used him for his looks and social status. When he was working at Scoops Ahoy, they flirted with him in hopes of a discount or a freebie. When he moved to Family Video, they just saw him as a cute face to play about with but eventually leave in the dust. 
And the saddest part of it all was that Steve never expected it to change, he never expected that his life would be anything but bad luck and bad dates. 
Then, after being dragged into a campaign last minute for the sake of filling numbers by Dustin and Eddie, he met you. 
You were pretty. So fucking pretty that sometimes it made his heart race and his brain stop working and he was pretty sure he would forget his own name if someone asked him. And you were funny, in an effortless way that made his cheeks hurt every time he was around you because you just made him so happy. And, by some fucking grace of god, you liked him. 
Or at least, he thinks you do. 
He really fucking hopes you do. 
But his doubts got the best of him and he allowed himself to push away the question he was desperate to ask you, no matter how much Eddie and Robin hounded him to just bite the bullet and ask you out on a date. He couldn’t fuck it up, and he couldn’t lose you. 
And then you sauntered into Family Video less than three hours after his shift started, smiling brightly as you dumped a container on the counter in front of him. 
“Uh,” Steve glanced down at the container before looking up at you, finding his cheeks flushing slightly at the smile you gave him. “Not to be a stickler or anything, but this doesn’t look like a copy of Jaws.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging the container closer to him. “Open it.”
“Open it?” Steve parroted. 
“Yes, open it,” you said to him, almost rolling back on your heels as you watched him reach for it. “It’s for you.” 
Steve remembered a vague conversation he had with you a couple of weeks back. He offered to drive you back home after a campaign and ended up parked outside your house whilst you spoke for two hours before eventually leaving the car. It had left him giddy for days after—much to Robin’s amusement.
He didn’t think you had actually listened to him during that conversation, let alone remember a single fact from it. Maybe because Steve wasn’t used to being the one having something done for him.
“You said they were your favourites when you were younger,” you started when you noticed the way he fell silent after opening the container. “The bakery didn’t make them anymore so I tried my best go at making them myself but, uh, I’m not really a baker.”
Steve stared at the box in front of him, containing around ten dinosaur shaped cookies with green icing and multi-coloured sprinkles decorating them. He felt his throat close up when he noted the different faces and expressions on each cookie, all homemade by you just because Steve stupidly admitted to you that he used to love the dino cookies the local bakery made whenever he stayed with his grandmother before she died. 
The nerves started to eat at you the longer he stayed silent. “Do…do you like them?”
Steve finally tore his eyes away from the cookies, blinking back the wetness in his eyes as he gave you such a soft smile it made your heart sore. “I can’t believe you remembered.” 
“Dino cookies are hard to forget,” you joked lightly, your expression a little sheepish. “I’m sorry if they taste like shit—”
“They are perfect,” Steve said with certainty. 
Your brows furrowed. “You haven’t even—”
Not missing a beat, Steve grabbed a cookie from the top of the pile and shoved a large chunk in his mouth as he took a bite. His eyes widened a little as he looked down at the cookie before shoving the rest in his mouth. 
“Holy shit,” he murmured, blushing a little when he heard the way you giggled at his muffled words before he made sure to swallow the cookie before continuing. “You actually made those?”
“With my own two hands.”
“They’re insane,” Steve said, pretending like his heart wasn’t thundering against his chest. “I—thank you. So much.” 
“Anytime, Stevie,” you answered with a smile. 
“You think you can teach me the recipe?” he asked, partially joking and partially serious because anytime spent with you was a win in his books.
“Does Friday work for you?” you asked and he nodded. “Perfect. It’s a date.” 
Steve didn’t even get the chance to respond before you turned on your heel, walking out the store before he even opened his mouth. But he looked down at the box of cookies, a wide grin spread across his face and found himself eager for Friday to roll around.
.
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k4zushi · 4 months
Text
[ 08 ] GONNA SHIT MYSELF WTAF
status : unedited, written 01/04/24 ☆ word count : 0.8k
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Y/N’S POV ⟡ COSTUME ROOM
every time you willed the universe to give you a break it found a way to somehow make matters worse.
it all started with your conversation with hu tao earlier that morning. the incident with albedo made sure that your nerves were on edge pretty much the entire day but what your friend said made you want to move across the globe and never return.
maybe if she hadn’t mentioned the possibility of running into a certain grey haired man maybe none of this would’ve happened in the first place.
you were silently freaking out at every random interaction you had. despite knowing the fact that you had no overlapping classes with cyno as he was a computer science major while you were studying fashion design; meaning you’d be studying on opposite sides of the campus.
honestly that made you even more nervous because alongside your history of “short lived crushes”, you also had a track record of bad luck. not one that could compare to a certain blonde engineering major but still bad nonetheless.
play practice was going half decently well. you had managed to escape interacting with others in the theater as you were mostly confined to the space of the costume room along side a couple other students.
it felt like you could finally breathe for the first time that day since you weren’t constantly trying to hide your presence.
“hey y/n i’m going to step out for a bit to measure some of the actors in the theater!” hu tao said, standing in the doorway. “you’ll be okay here by yourself right?”
you looked up from the racks you were sorting through.
“yea no worries. just looking through these racks from the previous years for anything we can use” you replied before turning your focus back to the costumes.
“thanks, we’ll make send anyone down if they have any questions!!” your bestfriend responded before turning to walk out.
you let out a hum in response fully diverting your attention.
it was peaceful being alone in the costume room. it was kind of dusty and cluttered but it was also filled to the brim with clothes, accessories, and fabric. the fashion design major in you was sobbing from the amount of things you could mess around with.
you were snapped out of your little headspace when you detected a new presence in the room.
curious, you peeked out from behind the racks. that, however, was your first mistake.
“um.. are you y/n?” a slightly familiar voice questioned.
you were trying to connect the dots as to why this person’s voice sounded familiar and it finally hit you as your eyes landed on the one person you didn’t want to interact with.
“yea!! how’d you know?” you said in a overly friendly tone in an attempt to cool your nerves.
cautiously, you stepped out from behind the racks to face the guy you had been avoiding all day.
“i was sent down here by hu tao,” cyno explained. “i’m cyno.”
“ohh i guess that makes sense, it’s nice to meet you! i’m on costume design for the play, just thought i should mention,” you paused to think, head tilted to the side in confusion before you continued. “did you need something from me?”
cyno shook his head.
“no, not really. just wanted to ask you a question if that’s okay”
“if it’s about costumes or the play you know i’m more than happy to answer them for—“
“do you happen to be friends with albedo?” cyno interrupted.
your sweat dropped and your nervous system started to go haywire. the urge to book it out the room and flee was overriding all of your other thoughts.
“oh haha.. uh albedo huh?” you said nervously. that was your second mistake.
“so you do???” cyno narrowed his eyes at you and took a step forward as you took a step back.
“yes…?” you looked around hoping that anyone come to your rescue and interrupt the unwanted confrontation.
when cyno took a step forward, you took a step back to maintain a safe distance away from the intimidating, yet extremely attractive, male.
this cycle continued.
that was until you realized you had effectively cornered yourself against a wall next to one of the costume racks. your third mistake.
you mentally facepalmed at your lack of spacial awareness.
“then does that mean you’re the one he was talking about?” he took another step closer.
“ahaha i have NO CLUE what you’re talking about cyno!!” you said trying to laugh off the sudden tension.
you were starting to panic. not only was this costume room stuffy and triggering your asthma but you also found it particularly hard to breathe when a really attractive guy was practically interrogating you.
and that’s how you found yourself in this awkward predicament that made you wish you had a twin that swallowed you in the womb.
‘i should just quit life huh’
“y/nnnn do you know where the measuring tape is?? it wasn’t in the theater and i can’t find— WHAT THE FUCK????”
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AUTHOR’S NOTES : note that the costume room is going to play a ( somewhat big ) part of the story btww (*´▽`*) this was also kinda a nightmare to write bc i was fist fighting w/ the dialogue and awkward word repetition way too much😕
cyno is so silly.. ik this is from y/n’s pov so it’s hard to tell bc of his bluntness, but he’s actually genuinely curious abt the whole admirer thing. which i find hilarious bc he comes off as freakishly intimidating while confronting ppl😭 it’s bc he has somewhat of an rbf and is completely unaware of it૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ( hence the ‘lack of expression’ i mentioned in a previous chapter )
— TAGLIST : @ioveaether @otomegame-oneshots @ashyiiy @mafuyuslover @yuminako @waengyknow @sharkdays @tikitsune @jihoonotes @gallantys @keiiqq @mochibaby123 @lambcandle @ell1e2010
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mrpldiddles · 6 months
Text
"I mean, everyone already thinks we're dating"
still not my best work but this one's fun :)
summary: when trevor shows up at the party with the matching costume to yours, setting you guys up to look like a couple, sparks fly
word count: 827
warnings: none :)
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"I mean, everyone thinks we're dating"
"My lip gloss is all over your lips"
Despite what everyone else at the party thought, mine and Trevor’s corresponding costumes were not at all planned. It was simply coincidental that he happened to be dressed as Flynn Rider while I had dressed up as Rapunzel. But no matter how many times we denied it, absolutely no one was convinced.
“Y’know, I can distinctly remember Jack wearing a very similar costume to yours at last year's party,” I shouted over the music, clutching onto his shoulder to keep him crouched at my level. His hair brushed my cheek as he turned to look at me, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. 
“Well I did tell you my costume was a bit last minute since it didn’t get here in the mail until yesterday.” His voice sent shivers down my back as his lips barely brushed my ear. I raised my eyebrow at him as he sent me a wink. Jack’s costume last year had been the inspiration for mine this year and he just so happened to be one of the only people I had told about who I had planned to dress up as tonight. 
“He told you, didn’t he?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, blondie,” Trevor attempted to deadpan but his mouth betrayed him as it turned up into a smile. “Yeah, he told me. I needed an idea and he let it slip that you were dressing up as your favourite princess.” My heart fluttered slightly, knowing that he knew my favourite princess off the bat. It wasn’t even something that was all that important to me but it meant that he had remembered such a small factoid that I had told him. And that meant everything considering the crush I had been secretly harbouring for him practically since we’d met.
“So you decided to pretty much do an unofficial couple’s costume with me?”
“I mean, everyone already thinks we’re dating,” he shrugged. “What’s the harm in kidding them a bit?” I paused. This was my opportunity.
 “Why stop at just dressing up as a couple?” His brow quirked up over the rim of his red solo cup. “Or am I kidding myself by saying this?” My words came out quieter but the look on his face was enough indication that he had managed to hear me over all the background noise. His eyes were big and round as they bore into mine, his mouth slightly open as his cup lowered. My breath hitched and my heart pounded against my ribcage as he stepped even closer and bent down slightly to be eye-to-eye with me.
“Am I kidding myself if I kiss you right now?” My cheeks flushed as his eyes dragged over my face. My head shook slightly as my eyes flickered from his eyes to his pink lips that quirked up at the corners at my reaction. “I’m gonna need words if I’m going to do this, babe.”
“You’re not kidding yourself, Trev,” I uttered, meeting his eyes through my lashes.
“So?”
“So if you’re gonna kiss me: kiss me.” His face parted in such a large grin I was sure his face might split in half. His unoccupied hand came up to cup my cheek as his lips met mine. His other arm snaked around my waist, cautious not to spill any of his drink over my costume. My arms wound around his neck, my hands finding their way into the soft curls at the back of his head. His lips were soft as they moved against mine. I could taste whatever he was drinking on his tongue but I was too deep into the haze of my emotions to care. With him this close, practically flush to my body, I was engulfed in everything that was Trevor. His scent, his taste, his hands. Everything that made up the boy I fell for. The boy who remembered my favourite Disney princess. Who took me for McFlurries at three in the morning. Who made me laugh more than anyone or anything else but who I also trusted with my most precious secrets.
His lips turned up in a smile causing my own to do the same until the kiss was more teeth and laughter than anything else. I pulled away only for him to follow and place one, two, three more soft kisses on my lips. His forehead came to rest against my own, my arms still wrapped around his neck as his dropped to my waist and pulled me even closer to him. His face was flushed, his lips swollen and red and his eyes bright as they looked into mine which I’m sure held a similar quality. 
“Y’know my lip gloss is all over your lips now,” I uttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Good. Now everyone will know who I’m here with and who I’m leaving with.”
“Like our costumes don’t already give that away.”
“That was the plan all along, blondie.”
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