#i'm doing much better though now i promise

[milswrites]

My Beautiful Girls

~ Cassian x Single!MumReader

Summary: An anxious Cassian meets your daughter for the first time.

Warnings: Fluffy goodness

Notes: For the ultimate Cassian girly @sarawritestories

"Hi, I'm Cassian. It's nice to meet you!"

The Illyrian General smiled crookedly as he spoke, clammy hands trembling around the flowers trapped within his steel-like grip.

"Fuck . . . fuck . . . Come on Cas, you can do better than that."

Slowly unfurling his wings, Cassian lightly shook them in the hope of brushing away his steadily growing nerves.

"Breathe Cas, breathe" the male exhaled deeply, rolling back his tense shoulders before locking his determined eyes onto the closed door in front of him, "Hi, I'm Cassian! I've heard so much about you!"

A groan of frustration tore from Cassian's lips, shoulders slumping in dejection as he miserably dropped the flowers to his side.

Cassian had seen his fair share of carnage, having stared death in the face a plethora of times and still lived to tell the tale. Yet no battle, nor life-threatening experience, could have prepared him for the terror he felt in this moment.

The great Lord of Bloodshed riddled with fear at the prospect of meeting your sweet little girl, so only for her not to like him.

It was almost laughable, thinking back to how confident he was when you had first brought up the topic of him meeting your daughter. Cassian recalled flashing you a toothy grin, eyes bright and laugh carefree as he promised you that all children loved him. He was, after all, Nyx's favourite uncle.

Yet now, standing before the door to your home, Cassian wondered if he would ever find the courage to enter. Every possibility as to how this introduction could go wrong festered in the male's worrisome mind, until his poisonous thoughts left his wings twitching with the desire to fly away and hide from his fears.

But Cassian couldn't bring himself to flee, not if it meant losing you.

So here he stood, the icy winter air uncomfortably nipping at his wind-kissed cheeks, rehearsing exactly what it was he would say to your daughter when he first met her. Seeking to gain back some control in the face of his uncertain future.

Adamant that he would not be the one to ruin the one good thing in his life, Cassian drew in a long shaky breath before trying again, "Hi sweetheart, I'm so glad I get to finally meet you."

"Right back at you gorgeous"

If the sight of the Illyrian General practicing a mental script to recite to your five year old daughter didn't bring you to the brink of laughter, seeing the way he startled at your sudden appearance did.

Cassian stumbling backwards as you pulled open your door to great him, cheeks flushing a deep rouge as though you had just caught him in a compromising position.

It was only once your laughter had subsided, and the low grumblings of embarrassment from the male's lips had ceased, were you then able to greet him. Your warm lips coming to meet his own frozen ones in a soft kiss, the action working to further deepen Cassian's flustered blush.

An impatient shout from inside pulled you from your kiss, a light chuckle leaving both of your lips as you quickly glance inside to where your daughter was waiting, "She's been talking about this all day you know? I've never brought anyone home to meet her before, she's really excited."

Your gaze falls to Cassian who was drawing in deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Concern pooling in your eyes as you watched how his lips were stretched into an anxious smile which failed to meet his eyes.

"Hey, there's nothing to worry about," you reassured your partner, moving a soothing hand to rest against his cheek, "she'll love you just as much as I do."

Appreciation swam in Cassian's eyes, a soundless thank you falling from his lips before he raised a bouquet for you to take. Or rather two bouquets.

"For you and Evelyn" he nervously mumbled, awkwardly shuffling his feet as he waited for you to take the flowers, "I wanted to get her something nice but . . . I'm not actually sure what five year old's like."

"They're beautiful Cas" you spoke, tears of joy lined your eyes at the male's generosity as you placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek in thanks.

"Are you ready?" you asked whilst stepping aside, making space for Cassian to squeeze himself through your doorway, the male having to curl his wings in tightly in order to fit through the smaller entrance.

"Come on, bat boy. It's time for you to meet your new best friend."

Placing the flowers down onto a nearby console, you led Cassian through your home, softly calling out to Evelyn as you approached the room she was playing in, "Evie, there's someone here to see you."

The sound of tiny feet padding across the floor followed your words, Cassian curiously moving his gaze to the entrance of the room as he waited for your daughter to emerge.

Only his eyes didn't quite catch her face as the small girl barrelled right into the skirt of your dress, shyly hiding within the flowing material of your skirt. "Come on Eves" you encouraged warmly, a tender hand coming to rest against her back, "Aren't you going to say hello?"

A little head tentatively peered over the fabric of your dress, Evelyn's eyes widening as she took in Cassian's wings which imposingly filled the space of your corridor. The nervous girl squeaked a small hello in the General's direction before moving to hide behind the safety of your body once more.

Worried that his wings were too intimidating, Cassian drew them in tightly, bending his knees in order to lower himself to Evelyn's level before greeting the shy girl, "Hi Evie, I'm Cassian." The male allowed a bright smile to cross his face as he watched your daughter's curious eyes peer over the skirt of your dress at his introduction, "Your mum has told me everything about you."

Wanting to aid Cassian who was growing increasingly panicked at the prospect of having to break the ice with your timid daughter, you bent down to speak to her, "How about we go into the room so you can show Cassian your toys hmm?" With a sheepish nod, Evelyn takes your hand, hesitantly moving out from behind your skirt in order to lead you into the living room.

Cassian followed suit, standing from his crouch before moving to the door, only to be unpleasantly surprised upon discovering he was unable to fit through the small wooden frame. His large wings blocking him from entering the room.

Curling them in tighter, the male tried again, attempting to walk into the room once more only to be stopped by the thud of his wings against either side of the doorframe. Just as a frustrated curse was about to tumble from Cassian's lips, a melodic laugh pulled him from his anger.

And Cassian could have sworn it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

There stood Evelyn, in the middle of your living room, clutching her stomach as she laughed to her hearts content at Cassian's unfortunate situation.

It was impossible for him to be angry, Cassian's brows unfurrowing at the beautiful sound of her laughter, a deep chuckle of his own breaking from his mouth as he watched the young girl giggle. Love already growing in his eyes as Cassian wished to bottle the sound of her joy.

"Evie," you started in-between your cackling, "Why don't you help poor Cas get in?"

It took all his effort for Cassian not to melt when Evelyn padded over to him, cheeks still rosy from her laughter, and held out a tiny hand for him to take.

Making sure to move his wings into a position that would enable him to enter the room, Cassian took Evelyn's hand which was dwarfed by his own, allowing the girl to pull him into the room.

"My hero" Cassian sweetly grinned, crouching down to place a delicate kiss onto the back of your daughter's hand, "Either I'm going to need some smaller wings or your mum's going to have to get a bigger door."

Another round of giggles fell from Evelyn's lips at his words, her little hand still tucked into Cassian's palm, the girl shaking her head as she quietly spoke, "I like your wings just the way they are."

"Thank you" Cassian replied with a smile, cheeks dusting with a pink blush at her sweet compliment. "I like your dress" he replied, coming to lightly poke Evelyn's button nose which earned him an excitable squeal from the girl before her face adorably scrunched into a picture of curiosity.

"Can . . . can I touch them?" Evelyn shyly asked. Her question being met with sounds of protest from you, knowing just how sensitive Illyrian wings can be. Yet Cassian's answer surprised you, the male telling the girl yes without even an ounce of hesitation.

"Here" he softly spoke, taking Evelyn's hand which was still wrapped in his own and moving it towards a spot on his wing he knew wasn't as sensitive as the others.

Not wanting Cassian to feel obliged to do this just to keep your daughter happy you protested once more, "Cas you don't have to-"

"I don't mind sweetheart"

And as Evelyn's hand came to lightly press against the membrane of his wing, Cassian couldn't stop the spark of joy he felt at seeing the young girl smile. Knowing in his heart that despite this being their first introduction, the General would do anything and everything within his power to ensure your daughter's happiness.

It took everything in you not to cry at the sight of Cassian sating your daughter's curiosity. At the dazzling smile which was painted across his face as he looked at Evelyn with such love. A type of love you had only hoped she would one day get to experience, the love that only a father could provide.

“Can I mama? Can I please?” Evelyn’s begging voice broke you from your thoughts.

“Can you what sorry sweetheart?” You ask, wondering exactly what it was that left your daughter so eager for an answer.

“Can we go flying? Please, please, pleaseeee.”

Cassian grinned at you wickedly from behind where Evelyn was stood, shrugging his shoulders as he mimicked your daughter’s pleading tone, “Please mama, we promise we’ll be good!”

As you flatly stared between Cassian’s smirking face and Evelyn’s equally mischievous smile you silently cursed yourself, scoffing in disbelief at the fact Cassian had known your daughter for under an hour and had already pulled her into his troublesome ways.

Praying to the mother for the strength you are going to need for the restless days ahead.

It had been an evening to remember for Evelyn, Cassian having been more than willing to occupy her until the late hours of the night. Bed-time forgotten as the two of them played and played until Evelyn was no longer able to keep her eyes open no matter how hard she tried.

Your daughter sprawled across yours and Cassian’s lap as the three of you cuddled on the sofa. It didn’t take much longer for you to follow suit and join Evelyn in her dreaming, eyes drifting closed as Cassian’s warmth pulled you into an inviting slumber.

Cassian was more than content to sit and watch the two of you sleep, lip curling at the soft snores which escaped from Evelyn’s mouth.

And as Cassian lay there with the two of you safely tucked within the sanctuary of his arms, he wondered if this was what he had been missing all of his life. For being here, surrounded by the small family you had built for yourself, Cassian could have sworn that his heart had grown two sizes bigger.

So as he stayed awake, scared of missing out on a single moment, Cassian whispered into the silence of the night. A hushed prayer for whoever was listening.

“Thank you” a soft smile graced his lips, “For bringing me my beautiful girls.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Ahhhh I love them so much 🥹

If you want to see any more of them and have an ideas for what it is you want please do feel free to send in some requests because I totally wouldn’t mind writing more about this little family 🥹

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #cassian oneshot #cassian fic #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian

[silverameco]

Angel/Demon AU - @wolfstarmicrofic - 834 words

Remus was sitting on a bench just outside of the school, watching Harry talk with his friends, when a beautiful creature approched him. They were wearing something completely inappropriate for the middle of the afternoon, black miniskirt, fishnet tights and platform boots. Long black hair, porcelain skin, smudged eyeliner and fiery grey eyes. But most of all, they had that unmistakable charm and aura that could only belong to dark beings. Remus himself felt drawn to them.

He had to admit, he was surprised. And curious. He didn't encounter a lot of demons these days, most of them got bored of tormenting humans when they already did it better themselves. So they tended to stick to souls and their appearance on earth became rarer over the centuries.

This one though, sat gracefully next to him, charming smile on their face.

"Hi handsome, what's your pretty name ?"

The tone was obviously flirtatious, something that, Remus suspected, was working miracles with humans. Not that he wasn't affected, but still it sounded a bit superficial.

"I'm Remus. And yours ?" he smiled anyway. "What are you doing here ?"

The fire in the demon's eyes seemed to grow, as well as their smile, that turned a bit hungry. "Name's Sirius. And, well, i guess that's for you to decide, Remus." They said his name with a syrupy sweet voice.

"No. I meant what are you doing on earth, demon ?" Remus smirked.

Their fake smile dropped and their eyes widened, but otherwise they just laughed. You could count on demons to not be deterred by anything.

"I thought you were human !"

"Yeah, I could tell."

"Well, what are you ? I've never seen you before." Their gaze seemed to scrutinize him.

"I'm an angel."

The demon - Sirius - visibly recoiled at that. They were properly suprised now. "One of the big bosses ? What are you doing on earth ?!"

Remus laughed. "I'm not that kind of angel. I'm a guardian angel. It's my job to be on earth.".

They seemed to relax at that. "Your job." They repeated in a mocking tone. "Angels, always so well-behaved." they sighed, an amused smile on their face. "So, who's your lucky human then ?"

Remus glanced back towards Harry. He hadn't even noticed that he stopped looking at him. That could not be good.

"That kid over there. Unruly hair, crooked glasses."

"No way !" Sirius seemed delighted. "That's James' son !"

Remus was confused now. How could this demon know Harry's dad ? "You- what ? How do you know that ?"

"James is my human friend." they said like it was nothing. "I find him every few lifetimes."

"Well, I fear you might be a bit late in this one." Remus answered in an apologetic voice. "He died already."

"Oh. Well he does have the tendency to die stupidly young." Sirius seemed lost in thoughts now.

That's when Remus remarked the parents waiting for their kids outside of the school, and their wary looks towards them. Or towards Sirius more specifically, seeing as they could not see him.

"Hey, Sirius. If you're staying, do you mind making yourself invisible before a worried mother calls the cops on you ?"

"Whoops." then they proceeded to do just that. "So when do we start ?"

Remus whirled around, taken aback. "What ?"

Sirius put their head on his shoulder with a genuine smile. "Well, I thought maybe I could help you, since I'm here."

Remus couldn't help it, he laughed. It was a ridiculous idea. "Demons don't help guardian angels ! They rather make our jobs harder." he said with a pointed look.

"Nah, you must know better than me that the humans' biggest ennemies are themselves. We're just having a little fun."

Well, he couldn't argue with that logic. Before he could find any answer, Sirius all but crawled on his lap, fluttering their eyelashes at him.

"Please Remus. Promise I'll be helpful. I'm just a bored eternal being. And I'd never harm James' kid."

There was only so much one could endure before they caved in, right ? Even as an angel. Remus agreed before he could think this through. "Yeah, ok."

"Great ! Let's go, he's leaving !"

Harry was indeed finally going home. As he stood up to follow him, Sirius climbed him to settle on his shoulders. He sighed.

"What are you doing ?"

"Making sure you don't forget me."

Remus hadn't planned on starting his mission with a beautiful and clingy demon on his shoulders, but he figured he didn't mind that much.

#this was so much fun #i think they're adorable #demon sirius #angel remus #they/them pronouns for sirius #silv writes things #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders #marauders era

[wonbineatsme]

: •̩̩͙ ໋ IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE •̩̩͙ ໋: - RI7ZE

RIIZE x fem!reader

Crack

SYNOPSIS: Boys’ reaction when you say you’re in love with someone - And that someone in question is them, but you decide to hide this part.

WARNINGS: This is just a hc, which means it doesn't match reality. I created the scenarios in my head :))

!! English is not my first language

WC! 0.8K

ᄀᄉᄀ SHOTARO: For me, Shotaro is very responsible and understandable. Even though it hurts to know that you are in love with someone else, I think Taro would react to this news in the most welcoming way possible, because above all you are his best friend. Maybe later he thinks he failed in some way, like he wasn't interesting enough for you, but he would try to push away those negative thoughts.

You both once promised that you would always be happy for each other's achievements. Shotaro will keep that promise, no matter who that person is, he will help you and make them feel welcome.

ᄀᄉᄀ EUNSEOK: There was no reaction, which made you a little upset, to say the least - Even though he is the person you like, in question.

You see, Eunseok isn't good at expressing his emotions. In fact, he never wanted to like you, he still refuses to believe that after so many years of friendship, his heart was stupid enough to fall in love. Not that the problem is you, you're perfect, but Eunseok is the rational type and to him all this shit doesn't make any sense.

He never thought that hearing from you that you are interested in someone else could cause so many feelings at once in him, so in the middle of all this confusion, Eunseok remained expressionless. Of course, your happiness is his happiness, but honestly? I think he'd be a little angry - Not at you, but at the bastard.

ᄀᄉᄀ SUNGCHAN: He would be the personification of the Lady Gaga meme “Brazil, I'm devastated”.

I know it doesn't make much sense, but for me Sungchan is the most intense of them all - Which means he reacts to situations in his life in a kind of… Dramatic way. He would be in a mix of “Tell me now the name of the son of a bitch who is stealing you from me” and “My girl is loving them for the first time, they grow up so fast :'))”

Yeah... With Sungchan it's always 8 or 80. He would be happy for you, but he couldn't help but feel jealous. He would make it clear that if you left him for the unfortunate man, he would beat the drum for the guy to leave you.

ᄀᄉᄀ WONBIN: My poor, Binnie :(( As much as he tries to pretend to be mysterious, Wonbin is sensitive. From the moment you opened your mouth, he would feel an existential void as great as if his pet had passed away.

He would literally be in mourning for a relationship that never even existed, too shaken to remember to be happy for you. Would call Anton destroyed and cry in the youngest's lap like a baby, not believing that he lost you to someone.

Would be a real show of tears and ice cream, but after a week he would apologize to you - Embarrassed - and be honest about his feelings.

I feel like Wonbin is the only one who would tell you the truth.

ᄀᄉᄀ SEUNGHAN: He would activate gossip mode, would scan all your social networks to find the bastard who wants to steal his place.

What do you mean you're in love with someone else? How bold! Well, now it's war. Seunghan only accepts losing to a guy better than him – Which is impossible, because he is perfect. He would only rest when he found the boy, all while pretending to be super calm with the news so you wouldn't suspect anything.

He would call the other boys for a debate, but would receive a lecture from Shotaro and a reality check from the others.

I love Seunghan, his reaction would definitely be the best ever.

ᄀᄉᄀ SOHEE: Wouldn't understand, like “How did this happen and I didn't even notice?”

Sohee knows ALL your friends, if you were seeing someone new, he would know. Based on this, he would start to think that you like one of the boys and classify them in order of proximity, coming to the conclusion that you might only be into Wonbin - After all, after him, Wonbin is the most intimate.

Sohee would go into crazy paranoia, looking for signs in your behavior, anything that would confirm his theory.

Behind the scenes, you would be laughing at this investigation of your best friend, knowing that it is wrong to have fun at the expense of his suffering. You swear you’ll tell him next week.

ᄀᄉᄀ ANTON: I don't know how Anton would react. At the same time that he gives off a baby vibe, the baby is also not a baby.

I feel like it would be something similar to Sungchan. He would feel a mix of emotions, between being sad that you weren't his and being jealous that you weren’t his. The only thing Anton would say is:

"But… What about me?"

You confess that Brachio's reactions still take you by surprise. You two have been best friends forever, but at this point he manages to be a mystery. Chanyoung appears to be dumb, but he knows very well what he wants and sometimes he's not afraid to express it – Like now.

Do you like another guy? Fine! But first you'll have to explain to him how you can fall in love with someone else with him there entirely for you.

You went to play and became a toy.

#riize #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #shotaro x reader #seunghan x reader #sohee x reader #anton x reader #eunseok x reader #riize scenarios #riize x reader

[baldval]

idk if u like writing him so if u don’t feel free to ignore!! but picture this, adam with a higher up reader with high authority that kinda acts like beelzebub?? like adam sees them for the first time and expects them to be all wholesome and kind but she’s actually just a hardcore party gal! which kinda matches his frat boy persona too🌚 and maybe she even resembles bee a bit? UP TO U! i just love ur writing and thought of this

-🎞️ anon

ALTITUDE!₊˚⊹♡

characters: adam x gn!reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: cursing, mentions of one night stands

A/N: i'm sorry if i failed you in the whole party-fun!reader aspect i just went on a different direction and when i realised i like this a bit too much. hope you like it too anon!!!!! 🫶

You weren’t ever too sure about Adam. He just seemed a bit problematic, loud, interruptive, and he never took things seriously. Not that you were the chillest person on heaven, quite the opposite, but still, there was something about Adam that threw you off. You felt like that was all a faced. You knew that, when he wanted to, he could be kind, and was actually very enthusiastic regarding his job at heaven. Not that he would ever knowingly admit it. So when Sera partnered you two for a, quite important job, you didn’t know what to expect, or how to feel. At first you thought he might try to run the shop by not letting you contribute any of your ideas. He thought you were a tightass that would try to make everything boring (exactly what he said to Lute).

However, both of you were surprised once time went on, and you got to know each-other better. He realised you were actually quite fun, he might even say careless. He found himself in shock, and partially offended, when he realised you actually hosted parties every few weeks. You found out that he was deeply misunderstood. And actually really cute and charming. And you also promised to invite him to your next party, once you had finished the long task Sera had appointed you.

"Adam? Will you read that to me again?" You sat cross legged on the carpeted floor of Adam’s basement, chewing on the end of your click pen. Adam was too busy trying (and failing) to get basketballs on a net at the top of his wall to notice you’d called out to him. Dropping the pencil down on your notebook, you let out a frustrated sigh, standing to get his attention.

"Adam!"

Startled, he stopped short, turning towards you with his eyes wide in surprise.

"Yeah? You alright?" He asked, putting down the basketball and appearing in front of you.

"Yes Adam, I just wanted to get this part done," you explained, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “Besides, why do I have to work? I would also love to be able to play with that fucking basketball." It wasn't that Adam didn't work, he just got distracted easily.

"Ha! As if you could play." You felt deeply offended even though you knew you did NOT know how to play basketball.

"Wow. Just wow. I thought you would've known about my years in the angel's basketball team. I used to be one of the bests." You lied, trying to defend your dignity.

"As if! I was on the angel's basketball team. Never saw you there." "It must've been waaaay before you got in. I've been here for longer, you know."

"Alright then, prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Prove you can play." He handed you the ball and you held it.

"I'm a bit rusty." You smiled at him as you saw him grin. He could see right through you and your lies, what he didn't figure out was that you could also see right through him. So instead of shooting towards the net, you hit Adam with the basketball right on top of his head. Watching it bounce on it only to later hit the floor.

"Ouch! What the fuck was that for?" he ran his hand through his hair.

"Get to work or I'll hit you again."

"Hey! That's toxic workplace behaviour, I'm gonna have to report you now." You groaned in annoyance. "What will it take for you to work on this with me for an hour? Do we have to make a deal?" You joke with a light chuckle. Adam jumped at the opportunity to compromise, knowing that he could work if he really wanted to, and that the deal would then be in his favour.

"A deal hey?" He asks, resting his chin in his hands, looking up at you with sparkling eyes.

"Yes, whatever you want for 1 hour of your precious time," you scoff, picking up your pen again to work. As a higher ranking angel, you knew better than to be stubborn. You didn't mind having to sacrifice a little something. Besides, the end was in sight, meaning you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer - however, you struggled to admit to yourself that it would actually make you sad not hanging out with Adam as much as you were right now, worrying you would go back to the stranger treatment you had with each other before.

"I’m not gonna tell you until the hour is up," Adam teases, retrieving a book full of sinners' names for your work from the couch and opening it to a dog-eared page.

"Okay read it again for me, and this time slowly," you emphasise on the word “slowly”, watching him let out a small laugh, shifting on the floor to get comfortable.

"Okay, ready?"

"Yes, Adam."

"Okay," Adam takes a deep breath before beginning, you’re skimming over your notes, making sure all of them make sense. Adam tries to memorise some of the names before you write them, wanting rather to watch you work than have his eyes glued to the book.

Adam rests his hands in his lap, noticing the way your lips part and your tongue juts out only slightly when you concentrate. He notices you fiddling with the edge of your notebook, your fingertips grazing the spiral as it winds to bound the book. He notices how effortlessly pretty you are, and how committed you’ve been to this assignment. He thought it was so funny that you were so oblivious to his blatant staring. He suddenly lets out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding in.

"Adam?" You ask, the same annoyance bubbling inside you from when he didn’t pay attention before.

"Right," Adam shakes his head from his thoughts and returns to reciting the book.

You hadn’t noticed you’d leaned slightly into Adam, your shoulders brushing. Adam suddenly feels warm, his shoulder tingling where you were touching him. His heartbeat hammered in his ears as he licked his lips, readying himself to read the next part.

He thought of how cunning his side of the deal was, and how much more tempting it got the longer you touched him. It was a gamble, but it was one he was willing to take.

Adam rested his hand on his thigh, inching his fingers closer to your joined knees.

You look up at him, finally noticing how close the two of you had gotten, but doing nothing about the close proximity. Something felt different, the air was harder to breathe, and your stomach felt like it was housed by a million butterflies. His eyes shun as they looked into yours, your faces inching closer and closer.

Adam finished reading and silence filled the room, accompanied by the small pants of your breathing, you pulled your body away, sitting up straighter and looking more alert.

"Good reading Adam," you let out a small cough to cover the awkwardness that had just washed over you. Fuck, you were so close to kissing him, and you didn’t know why. You scowled at yourself for being so cliche, and put down your notebook. Adam bit his lip in a smile as your cheeks blushed red because he knew you’d felt that too.

"Okay, deal time?"

You know you asked for an hour, but a break right now didn’t seem so bad.

"Okay," you say, as he scoots his bottom across the floor to face you.

"One kiss," he says finally, your jaw swinging open in shock. A kiss? Was he serious? Did you hear that right?

"A kiss?" You repeat, chuckling. At first you thought it was a prank - classic Adam. However, his face was dead serious, as serious as you had ever seen him. You hadn’t read that Adam felt anything for you, the same way you hid having a big fat crush on him by being sort of mean.

"Come on, you know you want to." He teases suddenly changing his behaviour and body language as he realised he had been perhaps a bit too vulnerable for his liking. But you has already seen him. You knew his true intentions when he asked that and you knew they matched what you wantes, so why weren't you kissing him?

Your lips form a tight straight line as you contemplate your choices. Give up the tough guy act now and cave to your feelings, or don’t. It was like Adam was giving you the perfect opportunity to do what you always thought of doing.

"Okay, only one," you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a curt nod.

“Of course, whatever the lady wants,” he sends a wink on your direction and you can't help blushing as you try to hide the redness with a laugh.

You lean forward, securing a small kiss on his cheek, almost too close to the corner of his mouth as it curled into a small smile. Your lips linger there for a moment, before you pull away, just slightly, your face still so close to Adam’s. You contemplate whether you should just go for it. But before you could decide what you wanted to do, Adam does it for you, connecting your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

It takes you aback, but you compose yourself quickly, cupping his cheeks in your hands, as his secure to your hips. He pulls you closer, until you’re practically in his lap, straddling his hips with your thighs. His tongue prods at your lower lip, and without another thought, you open your mouth, letting his tongue explore where no one else has. The feeling was magical, and after all those nights you lay awake thinking of this moment, it finally came in full force.

You had to pull away with a gasp when Adam’s hand started to cup your bare ass under your shorts, your hands resting comfortably on his shoulders as you stared at each other.

"Fuck I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-"

"No! It’s fine, I just, I... I kinda like you? Adam... And I mean, I don't care if you want to just fuck or whatever. But... I guess I just don't want that." you let out a nervous laugh, wanting so badly to crawl into a hole and die from your confession. "It's not you! Well, I guess it is you? I don't mind one-night stands, I just..." Adam interrupts you by letting a small laugh, the back of his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

"I get why you assumed that. I mean, I am THE Adam, THE original dick, why would I settle down?" You roll your eyes at his cockiness and his expression softens. "But I do like you. I like you just in the way that you said it, truly."

"Really?" You ask him, your voice only just louder than a whisper.

"Yeah! I mean- you’re so smart and pretty, and we’ve spent a lot of time together, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, wouldn't mind getting to know you better. The whole of you" he moves his hand towards your waist.

“I’ve felt the same way,” you reply, pulling Adam in for a hug, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He holds you close, before you sit back down on the floor across from him.

“So… you think I’m pretty?” He asks, shooting you a cheeky wink. You roll your eyes again, letting out a small laugh.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #adam x you #cursed cat alastor #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin adam

[rocketbirdie]

Memories.

-----

Before he could come up with an answer, though, Kunsel was hugging him. At first, it surprised him, though he didn't know why. Maybe just because the last five years had been completely devoid of positive touch like this. Maybe it was because he hadn't quite expected it. But either way, it was needed, and Zack felt himself sink into the hug almost immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend and burying his face in the other's shoulder.

Am I lost? You're not lost, you know this place. See how you know this place? That's not right—

His panicked breath halts and the world shifts under his feet. Against the cracking ache and the fogged haze, he lifts his head and blinks into the shine of mako gold eyes. When did you get here? Kunsel has information and he sends it to you often. Leave, he's not important.

"Lost? Me?" His toothy grin sends a flare of pain behind his eyes. When have we met? You know him, like you know this place. "Kunsel, man, you know I've run around underplate a thousand times! Stop worryin'! I'll see you later, ok? Things to do, pretty girls to see—"

Kunsel Zantos showed promise. That much had been obvious from day one of his formal recruitment; questionable background and motivations aside (that which, perhaps, had begun Tseng's careful monitoring in the first place). But in truth, the Turk had not expected him to last long. Bets placed against him for all manners of reasons/excuses, foolish enough to go poking his head in places they didn't belong.

And yet, here he was, stubbornly persistent despite it all.

The last time he had to deal with a SOLDIER directly like this? All those years ago. Alongside Zack. A case which had been pulled from its archival home to live under the watchful gaze of the leader of the Turks because of the very reckless idiot he was now working with.

There was a comfort in physical contact that Aerith couldn't explain. It was always how she had been. But she bottled that for the sake of being heartbroken. The more Kunsel came around, the more that heartbreak lifted. The more she felt herself. The more she punched and pushed, teased and tapped. Invaded his space with those big green eyes and smiled at him as wide as she could...

She was happy.

"...you're the only one that's left— you— you KNOW everything, and I know you have to live with that just as much as I do, but you've come back after all this time, and that's all you can say to me? 'Life isn't a game, Roche— life isn't a stage!' Then what am I supposed to make of it, huh? Play the loyal little hound like you? Bow down and kiss some Shinra ass while I'm at it? Abandon who I am; what my heart tells me to do? You're no better than those goddamn Turks."

-----

Thank you for the commission! 💜

#WAAAAH this was so much fun to work on!!! #so many feelings exploding out of me aaaaAAhhggh #my art <3 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #crisis core #kunsel #zack fair #cloud strife #tseng of the turks #aerith gainsborough #roche

[babyangelsky]

Color Moments in Two Worlds Episode 7

I don't know what the hell happened to the subs this week but the colors were coloring and the plot was plotting and that is all that matters!

Last week we got to see the love story between Tai and his Kram and as I suspected, current Kram has now acquired all those memories, as well as the knowledge of what happened to his parents in this world.

It's all too much, so he takes his painting of Tai with him and appears to be fully prepared to go with Phupha to Bangkok, but I don't fool that easily. Because as he's in his depressed earth tones, he's flanked by his warmth.

And once he unfurls the painting and reads the writing on the back, he gets his head on straight, the last of his uncertainty fades away, and he finally realizes his feelings!

He runs back to his true love Tai and after a beautiful mutual confession, they snuggle on their warm and cool couch.

After sleeping attached to Tai like a baby koala all night, the next morning Kram is back in his warm yellow.

And Tai is back in his cool blue.

Unfortunately, this moment of domestic bliss is interrupted by a wounded Wayu who tells them that Phupha has been kidnapped. But once again, I can't be fooled! Because even though Phupha and his also kidnapped dad were in dire straits, Phupha was bathed in Tai's blue and Kram's yellow so I knew rescue was coming.

We finally learn that Phupha's aunt is the one who's been out to get him this whole time. She knows that he is not his father Adisak's biological son and believes that she, as Adisak's sister, deserves to be her brother's successor instead.

As Phupha and his dad are waiting for rescue, Phupha asks how long his dad has known that they aren't related. Adisak tells him that Phupha's mother wrote him a confession letter before she took her own life when Phupha was seven years old.

His mother was in a relationship with Wiroj, Phupha's biological father. Wiroj, a closeted gay man, couldn't return her affections despite her best efforts to please him and match his white. He tells her that he's in love with Adisak, which ends the relationship.

But when Wiroj gathers the courage to finally go and confess to Adisak, he finds Phupha's mother has entered into a relationship with him. Together in matching blue, they tell Wiroj that they're expecting a child.

*pauses to cry on the floor for a little bit because Wiroj never got to tell Adisak that he loved him and Adisak loved and raised the child of the man who loved him as his own everything is fine I'm fine*

@respectthepetty Sadly, Jao and Wayu still haven't made out. They also didn't match this week but we kinda forgive them because Jao is still letting go of his feelings for Tai and Wayu had a brush with death. BUT THEY BETTER MAKE OUT NEXT WEEK! YOU HEAR ME, SHOW?!

On the plus side, the lighting is making it look like Kram is in his yellow and Tai's blue.

Tai rescues Phupha as I knew he would and he keeps his promise to return to Kram as I knew he would. He asks Kram to do the ash exchange with him and even though he tells Kram to take his time and think about his answer, we all know what that answer is going to be.

Because Kram is in Tai's blue and the stitching on his lapel, the patch on his sleeve, and his necklace all match Tai's red!

Despite whatever madness comes our way next, COLOR CODED MATCHING BOYS IN LOVE GET HAPPY ENDINGS!

#two worlds #two worlds the series #taikram #meta

[yanderes-galore]

Eee, prompt number 5, 8, 15 for Cassidy

p.s I'm so normal about that cowboy

🍀 anon

Of course! I hope you like this :) Sorry it took so long! I managed to get plot help from ♠️ Anon, so I hope you like what we both came up with.

Yandere! Cole Cassidy Prompts 5, 8, 15

"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!"

"I could look into those eyes forever...."

"Please smile for me... don't make me force you...."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Isolation, Kidnapping (Technically), Possessive behavior, Toxic relationship, Consensual turned Forced relationship.

"Come on, darlin'... you look like you could need a few days to rest."

That's how this started, isn't it? Cole Cassidy, your charming cowboy boyfriend, had offered to take you on an isolated vacation to his cabin. The offer was thoughtful enough... The cowboy had seen how hard you've been working since Overwatch began its recall.

Not liking the idea of his dearest overworking themselves he wanted to make sure you could relax and smile for once. Seeing the offer as nothing sinister... you accepted. Completely unaware of any ulterior motives your boyfriend could've had.

Honestly, at first your vacation is wonderful. You promised your boyfriend you'd take a few days off from work and enjoy nature instead of the bustling city. Cole loved to see the smile on your face as he took you on walks and sat beside you at the lake.

The cowboy couldn't imagine a better date... watching in awe as your eye sprung to life and glittered in joy.

The vacation contained flirting, relaxing nights, and just the two of you. However, the looming thought of work always managed to creep into your mind. Something that annoyed your boyfriend to no end.

Cole never liked the idea of you going back to Overwatch. Perhaps it's because he's had... bad experiences... but he just wished you'd sit back and let him care for you. That was one of the reasons for the vacation.

To convince you to get away from it all... you rely on him from now on....

But you never listened to his thoughts on the matter.

No matter how much Cole showered you in gifts and attention, you always said you needed to work. As the vacation time trickled down... Cole was determined to change your mind. Can't you see working for Overwatch makes you unhappy?

"Why not stay a bit longer, darlin'? The city's just so... loud, isn't it? Do you really have to go back?" Cole continues, stepping closer to your packing form.

"Working for Overwatch pays well, Cole. The vacation was lovely though...." You sigh, the cowboy staring for a moment as he clenches his fist in silence.

"Baby... you're miserable there. Just call in sick..." Cole hums, strolling closer to hold your waist and put his head on your shoulder. "Or even better, quit and stay here with me... I can provide for you and you can be happy."

Cole's words drip with saccharine, a sweet and honeyed feeling bubbles within you but you know better. He wants to trap you with him using his words. Treating you as if you're a fly stuck in a sweet but sticky trap....

"Don't try to bribe and manipulate me, Cole." You hiss, prying his arms off you the best you can. "You know I have to work, like it or not."

"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!" Cole hums, turning you so he can cup your face gently. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't want to see you happy...?"

You stare at Cole for a moment, his eyes are sharp and dark. He waits for you to object and you sigh. For now... you'll play along.

"Fine... one more night, okay?" You admit, causing Cole to smile.

"Of course, darlin'." Cole whispers, kissing your lips softly.

"Just one more night."

----

One more night was long enough for him to make sure things were perfect. By the time you woke up in the morning, Cole had prepared breakfast. It was only after that when you realized something was... wrong.

When you went to put your stuff in the truck, you noticed the door was locked. Not just that but the windows were too. Upon further inspection through said windows, the truck was gone... and Cole acted as though this was fine.

Everything was locked tight... the truck Cole had was gone... and you were stuck. Cole eventually forced a grin as he stalked closer. To him... your vacation was still going smoothly.

"You care about that job more than me, honey... I had to do something, didn't I?" Cole hums, eyes never leaving yours as he leans in front of you. He sighs in a happy tone as he reaches out to touch your face. "I could look into those eyes forever... y'know that?"

You respond by smacking his hand away, breathing picking up as though you were a cornered rabbit. Cole looks annoyed, but doesn't make any sudden movements as of yet. Why won't you just enjoy yourself?

"You locked me in here!?" You panic, the cowboy frowning as you glare at him. You're pressed against the locked door as Cole traps you in place. He gave up on hiding his true nature.

"It's for your own good, can't you see that?" Cole hisses, keeping you in place. "With me, you're happy. With me, you're safe. Out in Overwatch you have to deal with Talon. Look...I want my domestic little darlin' to listen to me and let me provide for you. Let us enjoy a vacation where there's no one else!"

"That isn't for you to decide!" You shout back, only for Cole to cover your mouth with his bionic hand.

"Yet I did it anyway, hm~?" Cole purrs, moving his hand to tilt your chin up. "Look at us... bickering like we're married."

You merely glare at him as Cole plays with your lips. His gaze holds a possessive kind of adoration... grinning to himself as if he's won a petty argument. This was when you learned your boyfriend was sick.

"Now... let's not let out little argument ruin our vacation." Cole whispers, a subtle hint of a threat in his tone. "Won't you please smile for me... don't make me force you...."

You feel his grip tighten on your chin and decide it's best to play his game until an opportunity presents itself. Reluctantly, you smile for your twisted boyfriend. The cowboy smiles back happily... leaning and kissing your lips quickly.

"My little darlin' deserves to be spoiled, don't you~?" Cole hums, holding your hands

You nod once again...

Internally plotting how to escape this wooden prison.

#yandere overwatch #yandere cole cassidy #yandere overwatch x reader

[alltimefail-sims]

I thought what you said about using Granite Falls as part of your Moonwood Mood storytelling was an neat idea. I would be interested to hear more about that!

Sorry it took me a minute to type up the response to this ask; I would absolutely LOVE to expand on this, thank you so much for asking!! I will warn you that this ended up being quite a longwinded explanation of my personal Werewolf world lore, so I'm sorry about that in advance! 🙈😂

Let’s get into it! ↓

I've talked about how I don't treat sim worlds as isolated entities in the past, but I've never gotten deep into that - I'll start there so my Moonwood lore makes sense!

Basically, I see Granite Falls as a location within Moonwood Mill. To go one step further, I actually don't even see Moonwood Mill as its own isolated "world" but rather as a small town within a bigger city within a bigger state within a country and so on. Think of Granite Falls as a large property within Moonwood Mill, and Moonwood Mill as an industrial, dying small town that is within driving distance to its larger city counterpart Evergreen Harbor, and all of these places exist in the same state. For me, the states these worlds are a part of are usually real-life states! Of course not all the worlds feel "American" to me (Selvadorada, Tomorang, Mt. Komerebi being perfect examples) but the ones that do usually get categorized this way in my mind.

For example: San Sequoia and Del Sol Valley are the easiest and most widely accepted representation of this idea. I treat both of these "worlds" as large, neighboring cities that exist within the same state, much like their assumed real-world counterparts Los Angeles and San Francisco which both reside in California. Another example is San Myshuno which I've seen a lot of players think of in the same way they see New York City, which resides in New York State. Moonwood Mill, Granite Falls, and Evergreen Harbor all function this way in my mind and would all share the same state! (I'm not a geography whiz, so I've never given it much though which irl state they would be a part of, but with the greenery, industrial, and dreary/rainy vibes my money would be on Washington or, alternatively, I personally see them being in a state that falls somewhere in the Appalachian area, like West Virginia!)

Okay, that's the long explanation I had to get out of the way before I jump into this next lore part... sorry! I'm getting to the good stuff now though, I promise!

Granite Falls and Moonwood Mill are on an even smaller scale than the San Sequoia/Del Sol Valley relationship, in my opinion. To me, Granite Falls feels like a national park or forest/nature preserve that surrounds Moonwood Mill and therefore ultimately falls under their jurisdiction. HOWEVER, the primary caretakers of Granite Falls are technically an independent commune... better known as "The Moonwood Collective."

I don't think there's enough room in the town center of Moonwood Mill to accommodate two whole wolf packs AND the handful of human locals that remain. Additionally, when you take into consideration the canon growing tension between these two packs and their various different ways of life, I have a hard time seeing them effectively coexisting in such close proximity. Besides that, Modern Moonwood Mill in its broken down, industrial, haphazard state suits the Wildfangs more than The Moonwood Collective - I can see the influence that the Wildfangs have had on the area, but where is The Collective's influence? Even the layout of Moonwood Mill and the lots which are located within walking distance of the rowdy dive bar screams Wildfang energy to me.

We also know that The Collective is much older than the Wildfangs, as it was formed back when Moonwood Mill was just beginning to have settlers and refugees who were fleeing from conflict (the big magical war between spellcasters/vampires/werewolves). Referred to only as "Moonwood" back then due to the area's obvious connection to the moon's energy, the founders of the town established The Collective - in the sims lore, it seems to imply that The Collective is the first pack of its kind to organize werewolves into a hierarchal structure with the goal of encouraging self-sustainability, diplomatic communication, and communal contribution within its wolf members. In my mind, I've always seen The Collective as people who reject societal comforts and embrace naturalism, self-discipline/emotional control, herbalism and holistic medicine practices, minimalist living, homesteading, community caretaking, things of that nature... and there really isn't anywhere in Moonwood Mill specifically that conveys that kind of influence. Granite Falls, however, sure feels magical with its sprawling plantlife and natural oddities... that is a place that could support their lifestyle!

If you look at the maps of these two places, it isn't hard to imagine Granite Falls as the wooded area close to the Moonwood Lunvik Lake, the spot where werewolves can "awaken the wolf" if they swim there during a full moon, because Granite falls is surrounded by various bodies of water AND mountain structures on it's right side... just like the mountain structures and woods that frame Moonwood Mill in the upper left hand of its map! Let me give you two shitty graphics I made to help illustrate what I mean:

It's not a one-for-one perfect comparison, but it's so damn close that it feels natural to see the worlds as complimentary! Especially with The Collective's connection to the ancient spiritualism of the original wolves and mooncasters, it just makes sense that they would opt live in a commune-esque community on the outskirts of Moonwood Mill, as opposed to being right in the epicenter of town. This way they're close to the sacred Lunvik Lake, just far enough outside of society to seclude their true nature, but still close enough to help the remaining human locals. I even have a silly headcanon that the "Big Foot" of Granite Falls is actually just the pack-less werewolf Greg, as we know he lives secluded, deep in the forest...it just makes sense that people might see him raging in wolf form at night and be like "Oh shit, big foot!"

With the Wildfangs being a newer pack that is more open to embracing the wolf parts of themselves, they wouldn't feel the need to "hide" and pull themselves out of society in the way that The Collective does. That being said, they also wouldn't have the resources, structure, and defined communal space that a very old pack like The Collective would have... therefore they're just scattered around Moonwood Mill in their family homes, the trailer park (some people do a motel instead - I can see both working well), and so on. Some lots even tell their buyers to ignore the "howling in the distance," and because the Collective hides their true nature, I feel this must be referring to the Wildfang's full moon antics and their willingness to "embrace the beast."

Either way, It seems to me that The Collective has always believed it best to stay hidden, so it makes sense that they would form their community on the outskirts of Moonwood Mill not just for their own safety, but for the safety of the human locals as well. I think they likely relocated to Granite Falls years before the Wildfangs existed and when a huge uptick in human settlers came in, chasing the riches associated with Moonwood's mines or, more likely, the mills which the town would be eventually named after. But as time went on and the town went to ruin (some people theorize due to the wolves, some people theorize the town's natural industries just became less profitable in the age of technology), people abandoned it and opted to move to the newer city - Evergreen Harbor. (See, we came full circle!)

That kind of leads us to where I'm at in my game, in "modern day." A lot of time has passed, and Moonwood Mill has changed dramatically since its inception. I prefer to imagine that the remaining human locals are not fully aware of the werewolves living among them with 100% certainty, but there are legends and stories. The oldest locals cultivate and pass down not just the stories but the protective practices to their children and grandchildren as well: don't go into the woods on a full moon, if the woods get quiet out of nowhere stay calm and find the closest way out, close all the blinds when it gets dark, don't go out on a full moon, bring the animals in or secure them in the barn for their protection on full moon nights, if you hear a whistle in the woods do not whistle back, and so on. Unfortunately, those stories, wives' tales, and superstitions tend to attract potential enemies to werewolf-kind: rogue vampires seeking to harm werewolves and even occult hunters. HOWEVER, by retreating into the woods, The Collective are closer to what they believe is their spiritual source - Lunvik Lake - where the original mooncasters created werewolves and Myshupotamians worshipped the moon. By being closer to their source, they are strengthened and therefore able to keep out potential threats, protect their own pack, and watch over Moonwood Mill as a whole more effectively. I don't think the Wildfangs are particularly interested in this part of their Lyncanthropy - its something uniquely embeded in the history of The Collective and why it was created in the first place.

LASTLY, my Moonwood Mill/magic world in general is actually years ahead of where we start in game, and in my mind the magic world is on the precipice of another war (a long anticipated response after the destruction caused by Operation Eternal Flame. Vlad isn't one to take losses, and the Spellcaster/Vampire tensions are still very much palpable). I'm not going to get fully into all that, but I will say that the Wildfangs are a far more established pack, still led by their alpha, Rory (albeit a much older, wiser Rory) and The Collective is led by Rory's adoptive brother, Jacob Volkov, after their father (and former alpha of The Collective) Kristopher died. Although the tensions between the Wildfangs and The Moonwood Collective aren't as severe any more, they do still have trouble coexisting from an occult governance/council perspective. Again, I have a whole lore about occult governance as well, but I won't get into all that either haha. The TLDR is that there are two big issues between the Wildfangs and The Collective at the present moment: the first being how Rory has gone about growing the Wildfangs (by recruiting pack-less werewolves outside of Moonwood Mill, something The Collective has always been against since its inception) and second, their willingness to work with spellcasters if another occult war breaks out.

Okay... I'm done now! I'm cutting myself off! That may have been more than you were looking for...I'm truly sorry!!!

I hope I managed to answer your question (and some). Thank you for asking me about this, I literally never get to talk occult lore and it is one of my favorite things to explore in the sims!! I feel like no one cares about my occult headcanons and such... but sometimes that's all I want to talk about lmao. If I had the time and talent to make a story about this very topic, I WOULD! But for now this is all I have to offer <3

Thank you again for this ask, it made my week!!

#ts4 #simblr #moonwood mill #granite falls #ts4 werewolves #the wildfangs #the moonwood collective #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 lore #my lore #ddseries #atfs ask #charsimsalot

[zukkaoru]

going through some of my old poetry google docs and. why did i write a h.igh s.chool m.usical fic in the same doc as internalized homophobia and religious guilt are making me think i deserve to die poems

#tw internalized homophobia #tw religious guilt #tw suicide #actually if you want a good portrayal of my mental state directly before covid hit #here it is #no but literally the doc goes #i have to leave this town or i'm going to kill myself (poem) -> h.sm fic -> i hate myself for being a lesbian (poems) #??? #ANYWAY glad i'm doing better now bc i was really going through it in early 2020 #i was isolating myself and wanting to die before the quarantine era ever started #tw self loathing #tw homophobia #idk if this needs other tags or not #i'm doing much better though now i promise #i no longer hate myself for being a lesbian!! major character development!!

[cerise-on-top]

Nikolai with a s/o who always has a hand on his chest? With consent ofc, and it’s always to feel his heartbeat. I think of this all the time and it’s always super cute in my head.

Hello! That is pretty cute!

Nikolai Always with Reader’s Hand on His Chest

Nikolai is a pretty laid back and chill sort of man, so he usually doesn’t mind you putting your hand over his heart. Maybe not while you’re walking, though, he doesn’t want you to trip. It’s very sweet to him: You wanna make sure that he’s alive? That he’s still with you? That his heart is still beating? Trust me, not even death could take him away from you. He’d dig his way out of his grave after killing the reaper with his bare hands himself. You can always put your hand over his chest while you’re at home together, though. It’s nice to feel you. After a while it would be reassuring to him as well, feeling that you’re there, that you’re with him. He thinks it’s sweet that you always want to be touching him, because if it was up to you he’d do the same thing with you. After some time, once he’s realized that you’re always touching him whenever you can, he tries to get into positions that facilitate you touching him a bit. Usually lies on his back when you’re cuddling so you have full access to him. Can and will fall asleep like that, but will also want to hold you back. Will also put his hand over your heart as well so he can “get back at you”. In reality, feeling your heartbeat is also just nice and reassuring to him. However, he sometimes might lie on your chest in order to hear it as well, something like it lulls him to sleep, after all. You can put your hand over his chest in public as well, though, he doesn’t particularly mind cuddling in public either. There’s a good chance you’ll be nicely clothed, though, so you won’t feel his heartbeat unless you slip your hand under his clothes. You can do that, he doesn’t care about strangers staring in public. However, once it’s time to continue walking around, release him. You can continue your antics once you’ve found another nice bench to sit on.

#cod #cod x reader #cod nikolai #cod nikolai x reader #tomorrow is finally friday for me right now. I am so tired. but tomorrow I'm gonna take a long long nap #I have the next two weeks off but I can't promise that I'll be able to post too much during that time for driver's license reasons #I'll try but I have a lot of errands to run then #besides it's not like I get too many requests in per day luckily. at one point I got 4 requests in one night #now I get one. maybe two at most per day. which is good. it's relaxing and doesn't stress me out too much either #at one point I had eight requests sitting in my inbox despite working on them ever day. that was really stressful #but these days I'm more willing to close my inbox. people usually don't mind the waiting too much anyway #I do work as fast as I can though but I'm gonna stick with posting one request per day. that's a much better pace for me #haven't written for Nikolai in a while though. I'm glad people still like me writing characters other than the girls as well #but it seems as though for now I've become a cod girls centric blog haha #I don't mind. I'm just glad that people like my writing enough to want to request it. I'll write for just about anyone of the main charas #two exceptions apply but I refuse to write for them. i just genuinely don't like them #but I like Nikolai. he's good he's nice. he seems like someone who'd be great at giving bear hugs

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

Honestly, I like Equestria Girls, but now that I saw one (1) other person talk about this I feel not alone enough in this that I can complain

Why do human Flim and Flam look so bad???

I will not include pictures, because I Do Not Want to see them on my blog, but like? Why is Flam's mustache gigantic? Why does he have curly hair? They couldn't even bother to give him one of his, like, three unique character attributes? That's all he has!

Why do they look like they turned actual horses into humans? In a bad way?

#I went to look at pictures of them to make sure I wasn't just being kinda a jerk to the designs #But I will die on this hill #Shining armor is honestly also a little jank looking at him now (can't say why though). But he is only in one scene (I think) #And it is still better than *this* #Also do we know how pony-age to human-age works in eqg? #Cause I personally don't think they are *that* much older than Apple Jack in pony-canon; that she'd be in highschool and they're full adult #But that's just my opinion #Or maybe I'm missreading everyone's ages in the images. I refuse to watch the specials (/lh) #(I do genuinely like eqg girls though I promise. The movies are fun :) ) #equestria girls #flim and flam #flim flam brothers

[cherrygorilla]

The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window. 

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat. 

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly. 

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?" 

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention. 

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?" 

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail. 

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption. 

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that." 

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more. 

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother. 

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…" 

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?" 

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone. 

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool. 

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk. 

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air. 

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?" 

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether. 

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway. 

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring." 

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Danielle and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink. 

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that. 

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend. 

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily." 

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was. 

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas." 

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp. 

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks. 

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really. 

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't- 

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it. 

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further. 

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body. 

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did. 

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!" 

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short. 

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs. 

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area. 

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser. 

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August. 

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk. 

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning." 

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him. 

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant. 

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench. 

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet. 

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals." 

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it. 

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one. 

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him." 

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle. 

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from. 

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack. 

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?" 

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?” 

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand. 

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there. 

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time. 

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her. 

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer. 

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk. 

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page. 

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile. 

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!" 

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble. 

"Why don't you just play with us then?" 

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun." 

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?" 

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know. 

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance. 

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!" 

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played. 

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?" 

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?" 

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?" 

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit. 

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts." 

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows. 

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders. 

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe. 

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour. 

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation. 

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation. 

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned. 

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now. 

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother. 

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again. 

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult." 

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk. 

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is. 

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound. 

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet. 

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?” 

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat. 

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore." 

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest. 

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat. 

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind? 

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her." 

"Not by choice," Miles huffed. 

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?” 

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?” 

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.” 

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out. 

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified. 

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!" 

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls. 

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall." 

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world. 

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked. 

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?" 

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed. 

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him. 

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile. 

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset. 

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3." 

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed. 

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?” 

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh. 

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own. 

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart." 

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?" 

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin. 

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?" 

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering. 

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again. 

Ok, now Carrie was really confused. 

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was. 

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message. 

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet." 

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his- 

Wait, why was she turning back around? 

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.  

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered. 

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer. 

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck. 

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains. 

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence. 

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?" 

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod. 

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin. 

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. 

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now. 

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought. 

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear. 

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it. 

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?" 

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed. 

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all. 

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again. 

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.  

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff." 

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying. 

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation. 

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute." 

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle. 

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever. 

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery. 

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?" 

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense. 

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally. 

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify. 

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two." 

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin. 

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition. 

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses. 

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times. 

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong. 

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised. 

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?" 

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again. 

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat. 

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air. 

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention." 

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!" 

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one. 

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried. 

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again. 

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?" 

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises. 

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern. 

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed. 

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-" 

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat. 

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped. 

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition. 

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point. 

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw. 

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?" 

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend." 

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own. 

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test. 

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?" 

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.  

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though. 

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright. 

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again. 

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?” 

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?” 

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement. 

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed. 

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed. 

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own. 

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick. 

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity. 

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief. 

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

#I know this part may seem a little boring because there's so much talking and so little 'doing' #but i promise that these conversations are all setting important foundations for stuff further down the line #you'll just have to trust me for now though #plus a lot of *interesting* dynamics are established in this part #*wink wink* #and get excited because in the next part we're heading back to All Skate #and the *real* action's finally going to start kicking off... #also I'm super sorry about being so inconsistent with my posts #finding time to write over the past few months with my crazy schedule and pretty poor mental health has been virtually impossible #but I really want to be better about that by the time I go back to uni in september #so hopefully I can find more time for myself and get some real progress made on this story and ASDO #anyway i've rambled too much #i'll let you go but I hope you enjoyed the chapter #and i hope it was a nice surprise after all the chaos you've been going through lately <3 #p.s. i know the order of things gets a bit weird at the end but I didn't know how else to write it without it sounding super choppy #basically eric bumps into miles before he goes over to greet her after class #his whole chat with miles is happening whilst carrie's having her little heart to heart with juliet #just thought i'd mention it because I wasn't sure how clear it was and my 2am brain is not a trustworthy resource

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Back to learning things and can I just say, the Dash Method™ I came up with at uni to write essays and shit is so damn helpful I am learning so much

#pomodoro WHO??? #this is fun this is going so much better than every other time I've done this #you ever just feel so smart #I've had to do math and everything and I'm STILL succeeding this is great #anway back to your regularly scheduled blorbos soon I promise #i see that ask in my inbox I'll get to it in a mo' #wanna do a bit more of this first though #cause it fun :D #I know things now heehee fun stuff #pop rox talks

[liltaz-asatreat]

oooh 1 and 11 for the horror fic with Lup and Taako ! :3

Ooh!! I never get to talk about this one :3 I worked really hard on it too, and not a lot of people saw it so I'm just gonna sliiiiide a link right here <3

Also, anyone can send in a question about a fic from these questions here or just other questions in general! I like talking about my fics and never know how to shut up lol

What inspired you to write the fic this way?

So this was back when I first started getting back into writing and had virtually no following of anyone who consistently read my stuff or sent me prompts. Actually, I think at the time of writing it, I may have not even reblogged a prompt list yet. It's hard to say because this was obviously before I got an ao3 account, and when I tried to upload all of the fics I had written by the time I did get an account, somehow the publish date on some of them got mixed up and was set for the day after I actually published them?? And I didn't know how to fix it, so I no longer know the order in which I wrote everything. That's neither here nor there though. Point is, I used a prompt from a pdf of a prompt book I got in an online writing bundle called Roll-A-Prompt Writing Journal Box Set, box set meaning that it had prompts for horror, sci-fi, and fantasy. I used that book a lot in the beginning because it's a really fun book to use the few times I used it. Basically you pick a set of prompts from any of the three genres, and the prompts are ordered in three different aspects of the prompt (in this case, it was character, mood, and word, but there are other options depending on the prompt set you choose), and each aspect has a list of six options. Then you roll a d6 for each aspect, and you generate a prompt by combining the three different options you rolled. Like the monster factory from Wonderland! lol Only, I took it up a level and rolled a d4 to determine what genre I was going to do (usually I use it as a d2 to pick between sci-fi and fantasy), and then I roll a d100 to pick what prompt set I use because there's thirty prompt sets in each genre. I just used this roll as leaving it as is if it landed on 1-30, then if it was 31-60, I would just subtract 30, and if it was 61-90, I would subtract 60, and if it was 91-100, I would just reroll. Then I count that many numbers down starting from the top of the chapter until I got to the right prompt set.

If anyone is interested, I could share it! It is a pdf though, so I think I'd have to send it through email because I don't think that's something I can just share elsewhere.

Anyway, I felt like throwing in a little extra, why not? that day when I decided to roll up another prompt and added horror as an option to my d4 roll, and I ended up getting that, so that's what I went with lol I am definitely not a horror person though and know very little about the genre, and I'm unwilling to do anything too gory or gross. The most I can handle with horror is creepy and abstract concepts of other horrific events, and the top thing that came to mind that day that I thought I could pull off was someone torturing students to bring back an old dead god. So I looked up wheel torture methods because I couldn't remember exactly what the torture device I had in mind was called or did, it was the wheel thing that like, you get tied to on the side and it's supposed to stretch your body apart? Idk, it's the torture method that always stuck out most to me besides quartering, and there was no way in hell I was writing that. I get uncomfortable even rolling that idea in my head and have to try really hard to not picture it every time I remember it exists. Anyway, so I looked up wheel torture methods, and the only thing I could find was the wheel that is called a female name that starts with a c then wheel? Cathie's wheel? Cassandra's wheel? idk I don't want to look it up. Last time I looked it up (to write this fic), I literally gave myself nightmares, and I already watched a fucked up movie today. It's past 11pm and I have to be somewhere at 1pm tomorrow, so I have to go to bed soon, but the grossest part of the movie I watched is still playing in my head and aaaahhhhh

So yeah, that's why I went with a hopefully more creepy vibe for most of it (also to build up tension), and I used physical descriptors of the dead bodies in the wheels very sparingly. Probably not the most immersive experience, but hey, I'm not a horror writer usually lol

Anyway, so I needed characters to be in this scenario, and I thought doing a sibling bonding moment would be cool, and it definitely seemed like the kind of weird shit that would happen in Taako and Lup's lives pre-stolen century. Also, it gave me an excuse to end the story with Taako saying he'd always find Lup >:3

I was really proud of how it turned out when I wrote it, and I suppose I'm still proud of it because it's something I wouldn't normally do, and I do feel like it's okay. But I can definitely tell I grew in my writing capabilities since then, and honestly, the twin interactions after Lup gets kidnapped is so cringey lol 🤦🏽‍♂️ I was so worried about trying to make sure that I didn't portray either of them as weak or like a damsel in distress, especially Lup, that I didn't just let her need to be saved. I wanted to show that I still think of her as a badass who can take care of herself, especially because I was really worried about the weak woman trope or whatever, that I didn't let her just need help. I honestly thought about switching the roles, but Lup just seemed like the one to pick up on something being wrong first while Taako got distracted by how hot the professor was than it being the other way around, and of course the person who picks up on it first has to get kidnapped lol

Anyway, I've rambled on about that long enough sldgkhsldaghd

11. What do you like best about this fic?

Honestly, the part where Taako gets hit with Phantasmal Killer. It was interesting figuring out what exactly would be his number one nightmare that Keth could conjure up, and between having an inconsistent childhood where either the twins left places for their own safety or people left them and them only having each other, having Lup being the one to yell at him, blame him for fucking up a great opportunity, and then leaving him would probably be something major psychic damage worthy lol I also really like how I wrote that confrontation in his mind in general, though I feel like I could do it way better now

It's just a perfect way to spin the situation on its head you see, and fuck the both of them up just a little bit <3

#Thank you for sending this in; Reese!! :D #Also; sometimes I think about like #what exactly did they do after that? they're enrolled in school now; so this isn't a scenario where they can just like; walk away #Like; they would have to report the body and everything he did and all of the students and stuff #but what would you say to someone; especially like; a school administrator; like #btw; you should vet your professors better or keep track of them better or even just walk into the abandoned building once in a blue moon #just to make sure weirdos don't try to summon old gods by torturing students and making a place for themselves in the building you don't #use #btw; we did kill him for you and promise we did not do this; no; don't look at our background; yes; he tried to murder my sister #please let us stay in your school and also fuck why does weird shit like this have to happen to us EVEN THOUGH WE'RE NOT #ON THE ROAD ANYMORE #lmao #Gab gabs #ask game #sorry I rambled so much; I'm running on very little sleep and just got back from seeing my friends after a while of not seeing them #and I'm feeling particularly chatty I guess #Oh! Also; getting in a weird mood again and idk if this is gonna happen because I'm still working on the Julia AU #but maaayyyybbbbeeee I'll do another prompt from the roll-a-prompt pdf and maaaaayyyyybbbbbeeeee it'll be horror again :3 #NO PROMISES but there's a slight chance <3

[irisseireth]

.

#personal #scary how I'm doing both better and worse than last year #materially better mentally much worse #physically not great either but i sprained my ankle on christmas eve last year and then my knee on the 30th so at least i don't have that #but the year felt so full of possibilities and now I'm exhausted from trying to do them all #i had broken up with my ex but i was getting to know someone new so that was exciting #i had plans for 2023 #and even though most things did come out quite well I'm mentally exhausted and burnt out #and of course the new relationship didn't work or becase if i wasn't really ready he was much less than i #and my self esteem really took a hit #dating someone emotionally unavailable is an exercise in futility #don't do this to yourselves #and now I'm that burnt out emotionally unavailable person #but at least i can acknowledge that #and yet #it felt exciting and full of promise and now I'm just tired and sad

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

#40s bucky barnes #40s bucky #40's bucky #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky banes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x nurse reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanart #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x smut