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multifanderwrites · 3 months

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Lorenzo di Lamberti x Autistic!Jewish!Reader (Well… Technically, Writer) Head Canons (With NSFW bc Virgin Territory) Part 1

[yes, I am fully aware that Jews were not treated like humans in Florence during the bubonic plague, but I raise you this question: can I please fantasize about yet another Hayden Christensen character and pretend, please? Also, the insert character doesn’t really know that she’s Jewish. That’s important to the plot. The basic message of this fic isn’t “converting to another religion to be with a love interest solves everything”; tbh, I didn’t really have any specific plot in mind for this, but then I thought it would be cool to see Lorenzo have an adventure outside of the one he has in Virgin Territory. Actually, I might have used some elements from “The Princess Bride” because I thought it would be fun to see Lorenzo and the reader having to recruit help from some sort of comedic duo who were… you’ll see. Also, TW for lots of antisemitism and ableism. But not from Lorenzo, for obvious reasons. K, bye]

You know you’re different. You’ve always known that.

You don’t look at all like your parents, and you don’t look like your sister. You look like no one else in Florence.

You feel out of place… and everyone else seems to know it too.

You have yet to meet someone that doesn’t treat you as a stranger in your own home.

That is, until you meet Lorenzo Di Lamberti.

To say that he’s handsome would be an understatement.

He’s a gorgeous man. Very, very charming. He’s no prince, but he’s quite easy on the eyes.

Upon meeting you for the very first time, he’s smitten. Lorenzo thinks he’s found the most beautiful woman in all of Florence, and he vows to win your affection.

In the past, he’s only ever been interested in pleasure when it comes to women. But you… have captivated him in ways he didn’t know were possible!

From the first time he met you in the square, you captured his heart. He believes that because you are different from other women, you are perfect and special.

He makes every effort to talk to you, even when you’re in your own world.

But you hear him. Sometimes, you like to pretend that you don’t, just because you’re so used to people not listening to you.

But he actually does listen to you! No matter what you say, he listens. He loves your voice, no matter what it says.

Sometimes, you sing, and you don’t realize that Lorenzo is listening. The first time he hears your singing voice… he’s absolutely enchanted by it.

“Of course the prettiest girl in Florence has the loveliest voice. Why am I not surprised?”, he says.

You gasp and turn around to see him leaning on the wall. “Oh, it’s you,” you say as you catch your breath.

“Yes, it’s me,” Lorenzo says as he walks to you.

“What are you doing here?”

He takes your hand, plays with it as he confesses, “I’ve come to see you.”

“Yes, but why?”

“Can’t I come to see the loveliest girl in all of Italy?”

You’re walking with him now. “I thought I was the prettiest girl in Florence? Have you even been outside of Florence, Lorenzo?”

He stops… and he puts his hands on your neck. He holds it gently, intimately. “No, my dear Y/N, I can’t say that I have.”

You can’t stop yourself from pulling away from him. “Then I couldn’t possibly be as attractive as you think I am-“

Lorenzo is hurt by that statement. “Don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” he tells you softly. The tears in your eyes break his heart. He takes your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers.

You have no idea what’s happening… but you don’t want it to stop. You feel as though you’ve been put into one of your many fantasies where Lorenzo confesses feelings that you’re certain he doesn’t have.

But when he places his lips on yours… it seems like he does have some feelings for you. He pulls back with a soft smile as he tells you, “I love you.” He laughs and hugs you. “I am so happy to say it out loud. I want to scream it from the roof of the church. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He furrows his brows, pulling back to look at your face. His eyes soften when he sees the expression you wear. “You don’t sound happy about it,” he observes.

“I am happy, but I don’t understand how you could love someone like me.”

Lorenzo shrugs. “Simple. You’re very beautiful, smart, funny, talented-“

“How could you love someone different?”

The question stuns him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m different, Lorenzo. I look like no one in my family. I don’t even look Italian!”

“What is an Italian supposed to look like?”, he asks with a serious tone. You don’t know how to reply. He asks you again, “What is an Italian supposed to look like, Y/N? Tell me.”

Tears are streaming down your cheeks now. “Not like me.”

Lorenzo can only imagine how painful it must be to feel so isolated in a place where you should feel so welcome. He decides then and there that he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel safe. “Do you know where you come from?”, he asks carefully.

You know what he’s asking now. “No,” you reply.

“Perhaps the people who raised you can be of help,” he suggests.

That night, you learn the truth: your parents aren’t the ones you live with now, nor are you actually Italian. Your sister is not even related to you.

In fact, you’re not even supposed to be in this part of Florence!

When you were an infant, your real parents- Jewish people- were running away from persecution. They were desperate to give you a life that was better than theirs. They managed to find the couple who raised you, but it meant that you would never be able to live the way of your faith and culture. Still, you would be far safer in a Christian family than a Jewish ghetto.

Lorenzo learns of this as well. He’s never really interacted with Jewish people before… but he thinks it’s fitting that the first one he meets is the most beautiful woman in Italy. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Unfortunately, he is but a rare breed of Italian who doesn’t have any negative feelings towards Jewish people. And because of this, he knows that you truly aren’t safe in this part of the world.

“I’ll take care of her,” he says to your adoptive parents.

They tell you both that they have managed to make contact with your family in your home country. They live in the city of Jerusalem, which is incredibly far from Florence. It’s not quite safe to leave the city yet, but Lorenzo is determined to get you to a place where you can truly live in peace. And he wants more than anything to be beside you, because he really, really does love you. He’s never had any problems with Jewish people, nor does he believe that they’ve had anything to do with this awful plague.

It should be noted that Lorenzo is very, very skilled with a sword. He is deadly with a blade, and he is absolutely willing to kill anyone who so much as threatens you in any capacity. The way he sees it, you are in grave danger. Any threat to your life will not be taken lightly. He’s aware of the atrocities committed against Jewish people, and because you’re one of them… he is now incredibly protective of you.

“Just because you’re not Christian, doesn’t mean you’re not a human being,” he says as he sharpens his blade. It’s the morning after you learn of your true parentage, and Lorenzo has a plan to bring you back where you belong: with your real family, in the land that your people deserve to return to. Except he wants to stay with you.

“What if my family doesn’t accept you?”, you ask him.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“What if we don’t get to cross that bridge?”, you ask, already very frightened of the dangers that lie ahead.

He takes your face in his hands, kissing your forehead before he simply tells you, “That’s not for you to worry about right now.” He plays with your hair for a moment, wanting to provide you with comfort, and wanting to prove to you that he still loves you, because the fact that you’re actually a Jew changes nothing. And he knows he doesn’t have to take you to your relatives, but he wants to. It’s the only way he’ll know for sure that you’re going to get out of Florence alive.

“Why are you really doing this, Lorenzo?”, you ask in a slightly shaky manner.

He doesn’t take any extra time to think of an answer. “Because if I don’t, I’ll be no better than the savages who have nothing else to do except slaughter entire neighbourhoods with fire. And I would rather die in that fire than live among the savages who set the flames.”

“But what about your family? You’re Italian, and your home is here in Florence-“

“My family is dead, Y/N. I have very little to lose… and I don’t intend to lose you.”

A week later, Lorenzo has managed to find a group of young people who are trying to get out of Florence as well. He hasn’t told them where you and him are going, but they are going in the direction of Jerusalem.

You’re quite shy around these strange people, but they do seem to be… overly interested in sex.

You and Lorenzo haven’t really talked about that sort of thing yet. You’re still figuring out how to navigate your feelings for him. Apparently, he sorted out his feelings a long time ago. Remember when I said that he was incredibly protective of you? That wasn’t a lie. He never allows any strangers to touch you in any manner, not even women.

But he’s also very, very open about his affection for you. When the caravan settles down for the night, he offers his chest as a pillow for your head. The first night is rough for you though. You miss your family- the one that you lived with for most of your life- and you still feel like your true parents abandoned you. Yes, you know they were trying to keep you safe from persecution, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You end up crying yourself to sleep because you’re homesick and desperate trying not to believe that your mother and father died long ago. All you know is that you have family in Jerusalem, and they’re waiting for you to come home.

Lorenzo can’t stand to see you cry. He has his arms around you tightly. He dips his head and places kisses on your hair as you continue crying. He knows your father and mother’s intentions were pure, but he does understand that you feel hurt by what they did to baby Y/N. Then again, your parents didn’t ask to be in constant danger of slaughter or humiliation from their own neighbours.

“Y/N, everything will be all right,” he whispers as your crying starts to fade. “You’ll be safe when you’re home.”

While you’re asleep, he doesn’t stop comforting you. He leaves soft kisses on your head for a while before he falls asleep too. All his dreams are about you, about how much he loves you… amongst other things. But you frequently visit his dreams. And he loves when it happens. He always makes an attempt to remember what you tell him in the dream. Tonight, he sees you in a long white gown. You have a veil on your head, and you appear to be very happy. He’s not quite sure what the occasion is, but he’s certain that he’s involved.

But before he can even ask what’s happening, he wakes up. And oh, what a sight he wakes up to. Because he wakes up to see you still sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Unfortunately, he’s… got a little problem in his trousers. But because you’re still asleep in his arms, he really doesn’t want to disturb you. So he decides to wait until you get up from your much needed sleep to address his discomfort.

Lorenzo knows it’s not just a random erection- it happens every time he awakens, of course- because he had you sleeping on his chest for the entire night. While he’s sure you’re aware of how men can get aroused, he’s a little afraid of what you might think if you discovered that you were the source of his sexual desires.

Once again, in the past, he never really had any special attachments to the women he had escapades with other than the sexual kind. But now, everything is different.

Lorenzo sighs. He doesn’t want to think about this too much. Not when you’re having trouble eating your breakfast.

You’ve always had issues with certain foods. But after all the stress of the past week, it’s gotten worse.

“Y/N, at least have some bread,” he tells you softly. You have tears in your eyes, which he is very sad to see. Gently, he runs his hand up and down your back. “I don’t want you going hungry, my love. You need sustenance for our travels.”

You do the best you can, but your anxiety is so bad you can’t finish your breakfast. You feel awful for not eating more, but you’re just so sick with anxiety that you can’t bring yourself to take another bite.

When you start to sob silently, your lover hugs you tightly. “I got you, dearest. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry,” he whispers lovingly in your ear. In response, you feel butterflies in your stomach. They fly really low. [yes, I quoted Nerdy Prudes Must Die. And what?]

“Lorenzo?”, you ask him quietly. He hums just as quietly in response, his arms still wrapped around you as though he’s shielding you from the world that threatens to break you. “What if the people we’re traveling with discover where we’re going?”

“They won’t.”

“But what if-“

“If they show signs of wanting to kill you, I will kill them. But only if I absolutely had no choice. You aren’t safe, Y/N. I need to protect you.”

“Lorenzo, I really don’t want you killing anyone for me,” you say in a very anxious voice.

He sighs and pulls back, holding your face in his hands. “I don’t want to think about that right now, darling. I just want you to feel better.”

Before the caravan continues on its journey, the entire group washes in the pond nearby. You do as well, but you’re far more keen on getting clean fast. You don’t want any of these strangers to see your body.

The only person who would be allowed to see your body with no clothes is Lorenzo. But even then… would he even want to see your body?

You can’t deny you want to see his body, but you’d prefer to see it in a far more intimate and personal manner than right now.

Little do you know: Lorenzo himself has had several promiscuous dreams of you and your body. They’ve been far more romantic and tender than the dreams of women that he’s had in the past, which he doesn’t mind. That’s mostly because he knows that he has far deeper feelings for you than those women from his brief escapades.

The fact is that he loves and cares for you so much, and he would wait an eternity to see you with no clothes on.

But he’s just focusing on getting you- the most beautiful, precious, loving woman in the world- to your homeland where you belong, where your family is eagerly awaiting your return.

Maybe it was a trick, but it is far too early to tell. Lorenzo knows one thing, and one thing only: you don’t have any less of a right to live in peace than anyone else. And his heart belongs to you.

Day three of your journey to Jerusalem is the day that Lorenzo discovers the caravan is incredibly suspicious of you. He’s not sure if they’ve discovered that you’re a Jew, but he doesn’t want to stick around to find out.

At the crack of dawn on day four, he wakes you up. You rub your eyes and look up at him in confusion. But before you can ask him what’s going on, he puts his finger on his lips and silently tells you to get up.

He helps you gather your belongings and guides you away from the caravan. “Run,” he whispers when you’re both far enough away from the group. And you do, even though you’re tired and confused. The sun is rising, and so is the caravan. But you don’t dare to stop running. Because Lorenzo is certain that your life depends on it.

And sure enough, it does. “Where’s that Jewish cunt?”, you hear the leader of the caravan ask.

The words hit right into your heart… and it makes your lover feel angry. He stops you, pulls you to a nearby cavern and sneaks you into it. He hides with you as the caravan starts moving towards you two. You can see their feet coming towards the cavern. Lorenzo has his hand on his sword, ready to defend you from these monsters who wear the masks of men and women.

“Such a shame I didn’t get to fuck her senseless when I had the chance,” another man says.

“I wanted to push her into the river,” one of the women says. This terrifies you, but you can’t scream because then you’ll be caught.

So Lorenzo keeps your ear pressed against his chest, and it beats loudly. It’s a nice distraction from all the terrible things that the caravan has to say about you… some of which is in explicit detail.

Eventually, the monsters do leave. But their hurtful words remain in your head. Lorenzo cups your face in both of his hands and wipes your tears, and you notice that he has tears of his own. “Lorenzo, I don’t mind if you want to leave me,” you say.

The look on his face is priceless. And before you can say anything else, he smashes his lips on yours. You taste salt in between kisses, and you can’t tell if they’re your own tears, or his… or both of your tears combined. All you know is that you’re both crying. When he pulls away, his cheeks are wet and shining with the tracks of his tears. “I would rather die than leave you, Y/N.” You’re speechless, but he continues speaking. In fact, he pours his heart out to you. “Oh, I would so much rather die if it meant never seeing you again.” You start to whimper as the awful things that the caravan said come back to you… but again, Lorenzo drowns them out with his own voice. “My love, those words aren’t true. They may hurt, but they’re not true. They were words that came from children… who have nothing but hatred in their hearts.”

“Do you ever think those things about me?”

His eyes soften. “What?”

“Do you ever call me a Jewish cunt in your mind? Do you ever think about drowning me or fucking me until I’m screaming and crying from the pain?”

He sighs and kisses your forehead. “I would never drown you. I would never think those things about you, Y/N.”

“But you do thinking about fucking me?”

Lorenzo hates that word. “I…” he lingers close to your lips. “I think about making love to you. I’ve dreamt of holding your body in my arms while you make the sweetest sounds. And if you’re crying… then you’re crying tears of joy and pleasure. But I would only do it if you wanted to do it too.”

Your cheeks heat up when you hear him speaking about being intimate with you… in a sweet way. The way you’ve been dreaming of for so long. “Will you do it now?”, you ask him softly.

He looks around, wanting to make sure that there’s proper privacy. It’s still early, and you’re both pretty hungry. Funny enough, Lorenzo stole some bread from the cruel traitor caravan. So you both eat before you start to slowly get undressed for this tender activity.

The moment you see Lorenzo’s fully naked body, it becomes clear that he is indeed capable of protecting you and himself from any harm that might arise in the future while you’re traveling. At least… that’s what you tell yourself. Because the loudest thought in your mind is, his cock is big.

Lorenzo voices his thoughts of your body out loud. Gently, he caresses your breasts, then your stomach… then your sacred place in between your legs. “You are a goddess, my love,” he breathes in awe.

You still feel incredibly insecure after hearing those comments from the caravan today. And you can’t help mumbling, “I’m a Jewish cunt.”

This hurts your lover to hear. “Y/N, look at me,” he says as he takes your face in his palms. His eyes are kind and gentle, his thumbs wiping the tears on your face. “You are a Jewish goddess.”

You shake your head and sniffle. “I’m a dirty Jew who deserves to drown-“

Lorenzo doesn’t want to hear anything else from you concerning those awful people. He interrupts you with a passionate kiss, and he speaks against your lips: “You are the most beautiful woman in the whole world… and you are just as deserving of love… as anyone else. And I love you. All that I want you to think of now... is me. I am going to make you feel so good, because that's all I've ever wanted. You are precious, and I'll prove it right now.”

You feel those butterflies returning to your stomach… and they’re flying low once again. Lorenzo smirks at the way your cheeks are heating up, and he moves a hand down to your core. “Legs open, dear,” he whispers as he gently pushes you onto your back. He holds your waist as he presses a finger inside your heat, and it’s a sensation you’ve never felt before… and it feels so good. Your lover is very pleased with your reaction to his finger moving in and out of you. “Oh, we’ve barely started, Y/N. It’s only going to get better for you from this point forward,” he says into your ear. “You’re going to love what happens next.”

And you do. Because Lorenzo puts a second finger inside of you. “F-fuck,” you whimper softly.

He groans in your ear. “I know. It feels good, doesn’t it?” He smiles and looks at your face as he continues to push his fingers inside your heat. “You look so beautiful right now, my love. I hope you know that,” he says before he kisses your lips and takes his fingers out of you. He replaces them with his cock, slowly sliding into your center while you’re distracted by his kisses.

You whine against his lips when you register the sudden stretch in between your legs. “Ow.”

Lorenzo pulls back and holds the back of your neck. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No,” you moan softly. You look at the place where you two are now connected. “Aren’t you supposed to move?”

“I didn’t want to frighten you,” he replies as he moves some hair away from your eyes. “I’ll go slow.” Sure enough, he’s true to his word. Slowly, he begins to thrust his hips back and forth. Each move causes a moan to escape from your lips, and Lorenzo adores those sounds. Genuinely, he loves them… but not nearly as much as he loves you. He’s smitten with you, which isn’t new information, but it’s all he knows for certain. And he’s very much convinced that he’s found the woman he wants to marry. This isn’t just because he’s taken your virginity; it’s the truth: you’re his other half. You’re the only person that he’s certain he loves and cares for anymore. It’s you that grounds him, you who’s giving him one more reason not to die.

And you feel exactly the same way. Lorenzo Di Lamberti is your very first lover, and you’re certain that he’ll be your last. Because you want him to be your husband, and at this point he might as well be! He’s not Jewish like you, but he’s implied that he would willingly convert, and not just to be with you.

You can’t think about that right now because of how good it feels to have your lover’s cock inside of you… and he tells you just as much, whilst he kisses your neck and your breasts: “Oh, you feel so good, Y/N. You’re perfect.” He sucks on your nipples and your neck, which makes you whine loudly in a high pitched voice. Lorenzo can’t help but laugh at that sound, so sweet and innocent, yet so full of wisdom and maturity… just like you. You’re wise beyond your years, yet still very much a naive girl who has so much to learn. But Lorenzo knows that everyone still has so much to learn, especially him. “I love you, and you feel so good,” he groans as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts.

[hey, did I lose you? No? Good. Don’t worry. The Princess Bride aspects are coming up soon. Just let me finish this beautiful filth, k? Awesome]

Your hands are in his hair, nails scratching his back and your hips bucking up to meet his. “Lorenzo, I-“ you can hardly speak, his movements are making you feel so, so euphoric and the sensation is heavenly [irony]. “I love you too,” you manage to say.

He responds with a smile and a kiss, and his tongue goes into your mouth. You don’t resist, because you know you’re safe with him. He took you away from that caravan, and at any moment, he could have killed you himself. But after all the wonderful moments that you’ve shared with him before either of you learned of your true heritage… it’s not hard to see why he’s grown so attached to you, so protective.

And he whispers promises of his devotion to you, his desire to keep you safe, to keep you happy. They’re all so brutally honest and emotional. And Lorenzo is crying because he means every word that he says. And all the while, he’s picking up the pace of his thrusts. And you’re making the loudest sounds in his ear now, and your body is getting tighter and tighter with every touch the tip of his cock makes. “You’re getting so tight, darling,” he grunts as his thrusts get faster and more intense. [pffffffft! Get it?]

“Lorenzo,” is all you can say. His name is all you can think of. His face is all you can see. And his voice is all you can hear. He’s making you feel good. Nothing else matters except for Lorenzo Di Lamberti and his cock moving in and out of you.

He brings a hand down and rubs your clit in circles, wanting to push you closer to orgasm. You’re screaming his name in pleasure and begging for release at this point… and he’s in the same boat. “Y/N, fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans.

[to the Princess Bride fans: hold on a minute. Don’t leave. It’s almost done. I just want to give this slightly chaotic couple more sexy time. K? Great]

You can feel his cock hitting places you didn’t think existed… and it’s amazing! The circles on your clit get faster and faster, and you’re screaming and crying with joy and pleasure. It’s the exact opposite of what the leader of that awful caravan wanted from you, and Lorenzo is happy with what he’s seeing. You look happy, and he’s certain that you deserve all the happiness in the world. Far more deserving of it than all those people in that caravan combined. “That’s it, Y/N,” he praises as he thrusts faster. “I’m so close. Come with me, my love.” And sure enough, around the fourth or fifth thrust… you release, and so does he. You feel his hot seed spilling into your core… and your muscles tighten and loosen around his cock. You’re in heaven now, and Lorenzo is right there with you. And he’s kissing your cheeks, telling you how beautiful you are… and how much he loves you.

You’ve lost the ability to speak, to move. You’re exhausted, but you’re still feeling so good. And it’s thanks to your beautiful lover, who helps you get cleaned up… gently, lovingly. And all the while, he’s telling you how much he cares for you, and how special you are to him.

When you’re all cleaned up from that rigorous lovemaking, he helps you get dressed and ready to continue your journey to Jerusalem.

The entire time, he’s holding your hand in his, and his grip is tight. Lorenzo must’ve developed trust issues after discovering that the caravan had ill intent with you, because he doesn’t seem interested in talking to anyone who crosses paths with you two- not even children.

Wait… that reminds him. He came inside you. What if you’re pregnant now? Oh no.

Lorenzo quickly pulls you aside to a place where he’s 99% sure no one can see or hear you. You’re confused, until he says, “I might’ve given you a child.”

You shrug, not in the mood to talk about this subject. “That’s all right.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “What?”

“I thought we’d have to do what we did in that cavern more than once in a row if I were to become pregnant,” you say bluntly.

Lorenzo shakes his head and takes your face in his hands. “Sometimes, all it takes is doing it once,” he tells you in a serious voice. “And if I did… give you a child-“

“Then you should marry me.”

Those words suddenly make him feel less anxious… and he feels more like his usual troublemaker self. Drifting close to your face, he whispers, “Who said I didn’t already want to marry you, my love?”

His lips touch yours, and you feel his hands moving down to your waist as he kisses your neck. As he nips at the sensitive skin of your throat, you speak. “Perhaps we should-“ A gasp as you feel his mouth marking your neck. “- we should be more careful next time?”, you suggest.

He grunts in agreement as he holds onto your body as though you’ll disappear. “You know… there are… other ways to make you feel good, Y/N,” he purrs as he pulls away from your neck. His breath is heavy now, his eyes filled with lust. “Ways… that don’t involve me being inside of you.”

You’re about to ask him what he could do… when the sound of footsteps stops you.

Lorenzo turns and quickly gets his sword out to fight whoever is coming in your direction. “Stay behind me, Y/N,” he tells you as he pushes you directly behind him.

Two men come from the clearing that you and Lorenzo walked through not too long ago. One of them has a mustache... but that's not what frightens you. It's the scars on his face- one on each cheek. The other man... is... tall? No. A giant. That's the first word that comes to your mind.

The man with the facial scars takes out his own sword [oh, I know that's his father's sword. Hold on, fam. We'll get there. It's literally the first meeting. Don't go! Please don't leave! I promise there's plot... or whatever-] and addresses your armed lover.

"Greetings, young fellow," the man says... in a Spanish accent? What would a Spaniard be doing in Italy, especially now with a plague?

Lorenzo's jaw clenches, his grip on your wrist tightening. "Good afternoon," he replies, his voice assertive.

The giant makes eye contact with you, then smiles. [no one come for Fezzik! He's just being nice! Leave him alone, and please don't go. I know this is bad. So was Virgin Territory, but I'll be damned if I don't try to use The Princess Bride for... just... please stay?] "Is that man bothering you?", he asks in a very deep voice. You don't recognize the accent, but the tone seems genuine. However, after that morning with the caravan... you've grown wary of strangers.

Lorenzo is about to reply, but you interrupt. "No," you say. "We're all right. This man isn't-" You stop, look to your traveling companion- the man who's been loving you so unconditionally- for help. Are you telling these men too much? Should you stop talking?

But before either of you can speak, the Spaniard asks a question that you both know you cannot answer: "Where are you going?"

Apparently, Lorenzo has found an easy loophole to this dilemma: "Nowhere. Just wandering aimlessly." He glances at you. "Isn't that right, my darling?"

You play along. "Oh, yes," you say. You don't know why you say it, but you pray to... what is the name of the Jewish god? [oooooo... girl... we need to get you away from the goyim real quick. :') In case you couldn't tell... I'm struggling] Whoever it is, that's who you pray to, and you pray that the next words aren't going to get you and your beloved in any more trouble. "We're just a couple of naive travelers who don't have any specific destinations in mind, but we would prefer to enjoy the journey."

"And we were in the middle of something important when you two... gentlemen approached, so, if you don't mind, we'd like to get back to it. Go away, please," Lorenzo says... almost angrily. You don't blame him, of course. What was happening between the two of you was pretty important. [this was... i found it hilarious, personally] You were about to hear what Lorenzo could do to you with no risk of pregnancy. [ummm... honey, there's still plenty of risks. but this is a fantasy, so we'll let it pass because fuck it]

You find yourself clinging to your lover when the Spaniard looks at you. "If he is harming you, I can kill him for you-"

"NO!", you shout desperately. The thought of losing Lorenzo frightens you. Not because he's getting you to Jerusalem, or because he's the father of your hypothetical child... but because you truly, deeply love him. [yes, I did this. IDGAF if it's from a completely different Hayden Christensen project, okay? The reader and Lorenzo are... crazy for each other. I don't know how to tell you this- AND PLEASE DON'T LEAVE!]

Lorenzo doesn't like the offer either, obviously. Oh... don't forget: Lorenzo Di Lamberti is deadly with a sword.

But so is this Spaniard. "Come closer, young fellow," he beckons.

Lorenzo replies slyly with, "You first."

The giant steps towards you, which prompts Lorenzo to push you backwards. "NO!", you shout.

"Run, Y/N!", he yells. You run, fast, quick. You look behind you, see the giant coming towards you.

You can hear Lorenzo and the Spaniard grunting, along with the sounds of swords clashing. At some point, you run out of breath, so you have to stop.

Oops. The giant catches you, but instead of doing something terrible like... what the leader of that caravan said he wanted to do to you... he says something that shocks you: "Your uncle sent us to find you, so you could return to Jerusalem."

You don't know if this giant is telling the truth... but something in your gut tells you that he is. Something about the other man felt... different. But now, you fear for- "My lover is bringing me to Jerusalem, but your friend..." You trail off.

Then... you hear Lorenzo yell in pain.

[i'm evil. I did a cliffhanger. :) Anyway, glad I finally got this out]

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 5 months

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Round 5, Match 3

propaganda below the cut! (wall of text warning)

Björk:

"sooo pretty"

"Björk looks like her music sounds. Out of this world and beautiful"

"she's like the chipmunk who visits my window"

"She is mjother. She has the range, the versatility to serve any and every kind of beautiful you could ever want. She went from cute art pop girly to icy electronic queen in the span of a few years. She served cunt while dealing with the fallout of divorce. And then immediately pivoted to ethereality and fairies. An icon. Oh also, all of Vespertine exists. Need I say more?"

"She IS grateful grapefruit. No one is doing it like Björk she's so one of a kind and insane and very beautiful and everyone should vote for her. A vote for Björk is a vote for Icelandics everywhere!!!!!!!"

"Björk's voice had such a beautiful clarity and delicate chastity that has infused some of the loveliest songs to ever be written. She is an angel that came down from the Heavens to bless us all with her talent, her mind and her grace. Vespertine, with the most elegantly crafted songs of Pagan Poetry, Cocoon, It's Not Up To You and every other majestic opus on the album stands as the most mystical, tragic, and sensual exploration of love and the core of us that makes us human, our souls. And my second favourite album only to In Rainbows. And all her other albums are great too. Just Google I Love To Love by Björk which is a cover but still shows you that she was the most talented sweetheart ever, even at 6 years old. She is my fire, the one desire. I quoted Backstreet Boys, that should tell you how dedicated I am to this cause. If that still doesn't persuade you however, I'll have you know that Justine Frischmann burned my house to the ground, frequently urinates on my lawn, abducted my mom, pushed my grandmother down a flight of stairs on her trip to Manchester and chopped my dad's "you know what" off to use as a heirloom for her house. She is a nasty and crazy woman. Vote Björk, our Icelandic queen."

"bjork is sexy in a mind-expanding way. she would [redacted] and then teach u how to build a computer. my partner says she makes music for autistic people to have sex to. also history ot touches ??????? hello????"

"Have you seen the swan dress? She's an icon and she is the moment"

"swan dress. need i say more"

(the dress in question)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #90s music #tournament #björk #lauryn hill #fugees

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fandoms-rants · 4 months

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Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Andriel Quotes Part 2:

(Quotes that remind me of (and/or I think they would say in canon or fanfics which I hope someone will write) Andrew, Neil or both of them and/or therir relationship)

“He’s everything she ever wanted. And that’s scares the living shit out of her.” (Andrew about Neil)

“You are the finest, Loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known-and even that is an understatement.” (Neil to Andrew)

"You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain." (Neil to Andrew)

“and eventually you realize that real Love comes down to feeling safe enough to be vulnerable.” (Andrew)

"I crave so much more than just a physical connection. I crave words and depth. I crave who you are and where you came from, your desires and fears. I yearn to know every inch of you beyond the surface." (Andriel)

“She wasn't sure which scared her more, the fact that he wanted to explore her depths and understand her... or the fact she was willing to let him.” (Andrew about Neil)

“Sorry I’m late. I got here as soon as I wanted to.” (Andrew)

“Me, weird? Bitch, I’m limited addition.” (Andrew Always to Anyone)

“So you’re the bitch, that told the bitch, that I’m a bitch. Well listen bitch, it takes a bitch to know a bitch.” (Andrew to Allison**)

“A friend is someone who listens to your bullshit. tells you that it is bullshit and listens some more.” (Andrew about Renee)

“my type of goth is greek goddess persephone goth: all about flowers and spring and the sun with a deep, intimate love for necromancy and death and ready to punch a man at a moments notice.” (Neil about Andrew)

“You are either on my side, by my side, or in my fucking way. Choose wisely.” (Andriel to Everyone Else)

“You want to be on my level? Climb, bitch.” (Andrew to Aaron**)

To love without condition. To talk without intention. To give without reason. To care without expectation. The Spirit of True Love. (Andriel)

“Payback is a bad bitch. And baby, I'm the baddest. (Andrew to the Foxes(Neil **facepalms fondly**))

“Most people barely know themselves. So what does it matter what they think of you?” (Andrew to Neil)

“Act my age? What the fuck is that, "act my age" What do I care how old I am? The Ocean is old as fuck. It will still drown your ass with vigor." (Andrew post-canon, post-ext retirement)

“"Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.” (Andriel to Everyone)

“He ran his hands over my past, lingering over the dents and worn edges of my heart. And when I thought he'd run away like the others had... he told me I was a warrior, and that I'd never fight another battle alone.” (Neil about Andrew and quite honestly Andrew about Neil too)

“When you find someone who can make you laugh. Smile. Grow. Lust. Want. Crave. Feel. Make you mad but happy. Keep that. That's euphoria.” (Neil about Andrew)

“"I still hold onto a small, childish hope that there's someone out there in this crazy, wild world so completely, utterly meant for me even the stars will sigh, at last! in relief at our meeting." (Andrew **reluctantly** pre-canon)

"It's impossible,"said pride. "It's risky,"said experience. “It’s pointless,”said reason. "Give it a try." whispered the heart." (Andrew about Neil)

“The most beautiful part to loving a guarded girl is this: when she lets you in, it's not because she needs you. She stopped needing people a long time ago. It's because she wants you, and that is the purest love of all.” (Neil about Andrew)

When your eyes met mine, my soul pointed at you and whispered to my heart, "Him.." (Andrew about Neil, when Neil looked up at him after Andrew took his breath away during their first meeting;)

“When a flower doesn't bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.” (Andrew)

“The most beautiful part is, I wasn't even looking when I found you.” (Neil to Andrew)

“Don't put me in a position where i gotta show you how cold my heart can get.” (Andrew)

**Fyi I don’t like Allison and don’t think her and Andrew will ever get along as anything more than mild antagonist acquaintances who’s significant others are the friend of the other.**

**I don’t like Aaron either but much like Neil I tolerate him for Andrew’s sake. And yes I’m aware they are both 5’ tall.**

*WARNING: About copyright, Quotes come from various places(ie. FanFiction, Tv, Movies, Music, Pinterest) so use in your own fanfic stories at your own.. I can’t think of the word but you know what I mean.*

#aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #quotes #my post

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hathorneheiress · 7 months

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A little bit about myself.

Things I like to do.

Writing. Reading. Listening to music. Shopping. Swinging. Having alone time. Doing puzzles. Gardening. Chatting with all of you!!

I also want to let people know that I am not a minor. I'm not telling my exact age, but it is between 18-21. If anyone is uncomfortable with that, I am very sorry.

P.S. I'm not a creep and won't be stalking minors, but I thought I should let people know, in case you are not comfortable with that.

Favorite songs

"So am I." Ava max "Unstoppable." Sia "The greatest." Sia. "Broken and Beautiful." Kelly Clarkson. "Weapons." Ava Max. "Every time I cry." Ava Max. "People like us." Kelly Clarkson. "Legendary." Welshly Arms. "Summer rain." Victoria Nadine. ""Shake it off." Taylor Swift. "Style" Taylor Swift. "I knew you were trouble." Taylor Swift.

And there is so much more I could post, but these are some of my top favorites!

Favorite Movies/shows

NCIS. The Librarians. Leverage/Leverage Redemption. Downton Abby. Sherlock Holmes. Jeremy Brett. Murder she wrote. The hunger Games. The good doctor.

Favorite Books

Sherlock Holmes. The Inheritance Games series. The Hunger Games series. Nancy Drew. The Hardy Boys. Once upon a broken heart. Charles Dickens books. Dictionaries. Encyclopedias The Naturals

Just some random stuff about me.

My favorite color is BLACK! I love to wear it! But I also love sunset blue as well.

My aesthetics would tend toward Modern Victorian. Dark academia. Heels, lipstick and Pearl's. And all sorts of stuff!!!

And here is a mood board of my aesthetics.

One if the biggest Ava Max, Sherlock Holmes, Librarians, and Grayson Hawthorne fan you will ever meet.

My favorite subject in school was Science.

I am a Librarian in training.

I have OCD and am on the autism spectrum.

My favorite animal is chickens.

I dream is to be a writer some day.

My zodiac sign is Pisces.

My favorite season is fall.

My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving.

I play the cello and piano.

Here is link to my story on Wattpad.

Behind those icy blue eyes - A-very-risky-gamble - Wattpad

I've met many amazing people one here, but here is a few honorable mentions.

@riddles-n-games. My best friend. Ever. I don't know how she puts up with me. She is so amazing. Her works are publish worthy and you should definitely check them out.

@reminiscentreader. Loveliest girl on the planet. Will talk to you about anything. One of my best friends on here and her blog is pretty awesome. Please go check her out if you haven't already. She is so amazing.

@blocked-zombieartist. Has a gift for writing I would die to have. She is a remarkable person and you would not be disappointed in having her as your mutual. She is that awesome.

@myster3y. Funny. Caring. Has a wonderful personality. She is so sweet. I adore talking with her and I know you would to. So go check her out!!!

I mean it when I say I love chatting with you all!! I have had very few friends in life, so it is nice to chat with other people about the things I love.

AND DON'T BE AFRAID TO ASK OR TALK TO ME!! I WOULD LOVE TO CHAT ABOUT THINGS! EVEN IF THEY ARE WHAT YOU LOVE, I WOULD STILL ENJOY TALKING TO YOU!!😊❤️AND IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR STOIRES CONCERNING TIG OR SHERLOCK HOLMES, AND WANT SOMEONE TO WRITE THEM, THEN GIVE ME A MESSAGE AND I WILL SEE WHAT I CAN DO!!

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 5 months

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David Baker has returned to the narrative! David Baker has charmed everyone at the Williamson home, including Timothy! David Baker wants to know why he has been summoned back into this story!

David Baker would like to remind you that he is a eugenicist! "He did not betray the surprise and dismay he felt at learning that Eric had fallen in love with a dumb girl of doubtful antecedents; and the strange case enlisted his professional interest."

So Eric takes David to meet Kilmeny, and David is, of course, utterly bowled over by her beauty. Eric, meanwhile, never passes up a chance to be weird about Kilmeny: "Eric smiled as he recalled HIS first meeting with her. He suddenly realized how far Kilmeny had come since then and how much she had developed." This is how my friend talks about her toddler. 'Oh, she's developed so much these past few months! She's so much more confident now!'

There is also, as others have already pointed out, a massive difference between having an appointment with someone who has come recommended by someone you trust and looking up when you think yourself alone and suddenly seeing a complete stranger staring at you. Like, never mind the fact that Kilmeny has had the worldview-shattering character moment of finding out her true reflection, she was expecting David Baker.

“Eric, she is simply unutterable!” said David in an undertone. “Last night, to tell you the truth, I had a rather poor opinion of your sanity. But now I am consumed with a fierce envy. She is the loveliest creature I ever saw.”

I suppose there is something admirable in how blatantly all these men state that all they want from a wife is a pretty trophy. I'm also curious if we're ever going to get David Baker's tragic romantic backstory, which was alluded to back in chapter one.

Eric leaves David with Kilmeny and goes off to school. I had thought he was done for the summer -- are we into fall by this point? I have fully lost track of the timeline of this book. It's all a kind of hazy dream of endless summer. Again, we can definitely see the kernel of something that Maud will become much better at over her career. She eventually uses the seasons extremely deftly, tying the setting, the time of year, and the narrative together seamlessly. Even within one season, she will take us from early summer to high summer to late summer and the passage of time will matter. Here, I have no idea how much time has passed. I feel like the last month marker I saw referenced was July? But maybe it's now September? I have no idea.

Anyway, we run into Neil again. Remember Neil? Yeah, he's not doing so hot. "Neil’s face had grown thin and haggard; his eyes were sunken and feverishly bright; he looked years older than on the day when Eric had first seen him in the brook hollow." Eric feels a sudden surge of pity and asks Neil if they can be friends, while delivering a complete non-apology. Eric is not even listening and learning, that would be better than what he actually says. What he says is, "I am sorry if I have been the cause of inflicting pain on you."

Eric is very sorry you were offended. Eric does kind of think he did nothing wrong and this is entirely a you problem though.

Neil, unsurprisingly, does not want to be friends. Dire proclamations of 'I'll get you back yet!' aside, I wouldn't want to be friends with someone who had only ever been a dick to me, even without heartbreak in the middle.

But we put Neil out of our mind, because why should we spend any time worrying about this man who has threatened vengeance on us several times? There's a woman to talk about! Eric goes home and finds David, who tells him that there is nothing physically wrong with Kilmeny at all. Her trouble is psychological, not physical. There is nothing that a doctor can do for her. What David does say, however, is that he thinks maybe Kilmeny could cure herself, if she "wants it badly enough." This is straying very close to victim blaming, but I'm actually not mad at it because it is reminding me very strongly of the climactic scene from Ella Enchanted, when she breaks her own curse through sheer willpower and wanting it badly enough. And imagining Kilmeny bursting out the door and proclaiming, "I shan't marry the prince!" is tiding me through.

Meanwhile, David Baker is playing with an antimacassar decorated with a lion, and it has to be symbolism, because this has so far not been a book that draws attention to non-plot relevant props, but I cannot for the life of me figure it out. He pokes his fingers through the lion's eye-holes as he's delivering his verdict, which could just be a crude metaphor for curing Kilmeny with sex but feels awfully violent. Anyone have any ideas?

Eric protests that Kilmeny does want to speak, and David says:

“Yes, but I do not mean that sort of wanting, no matter how strong the wish may be. What I do mean is—a sudden, vehement, passionate inrush of desire, physical, psychical, mental, all in one, mighty enough to rend asunder the invisible fetters that hold her speech in bondage. If any occasion should arise to evoke such a desire I believe that Kilmeny would speak—and having once spoken would thenceforth be normal in that respect—ay, if she spoke but the one word.”

So Margaret repressed her own desire to speak and forgive her father so strongly, and under such a weight of emotion, that it will take a similar emotional event to unlock Kilmeny's ability to speak. Honestly I wish LMM had been able to just include a supernatural element here, because 'Margaret Gordon cursed her daughter with literal magic' would be so much simpler than this weird medical-but-not-but-kind-of-supernatural-but-not thing the book has going.

Eric is distraught, because he knows Kilmeny will never agree to marry him while she is still mute, and there seems to be no way to change her ability to speak. He can't rely on a climactic emotional event to occur, after all. He goes to the Gordon house and finds that Kilmeny has refused to see him. Janet hands him a note that says he must never come back, because it will be better for both of them if he forgets her. She is calling him Eric instead of Master, which is nice.

Eric, who does not know how to take no for an answer, says that Janet must go upstairs and fetch Kilmeny down and make her see him. Janet obliges, but Kilmeny will not be made. Like her mother before her, Kilmeny hears a man she loves pleading with her to come down and see him and will not do so. Eric comes back the next day, and same thing. She will not see him. Janet sits him down and says that, since Kilmeny won't marry him, he should stop coming to the homestead. It would be better if they didn't see each other anymore.

“I know I am asking a hard thing for your own good, Master. It is not as if Kilmeny would ever change her mind. We have had some experience with a woman’s will ere this. Tush, Janet, woman, don’t be weeping. You women are foolish creatures. Do you think tears can wash such things away? No, they cannot blot out sin, or the consequences of sin. It’s awful how one sin can spread out and broaden, till it eats into innocent lives, sometimes long after the sinner has gone to his own accounting. Master, if you take my advice, you’ll give up the Lindsay school and go back to your own world as soon as may be.”

At this point it's starting to feel as though, rather than Kilmeny being the one to venture into fairy land, it is Eric who has crossed the threshold into another world. I haven't really gotten a lot of otherworldly vibes from Lindsay or the Gordons for a while, but now they're back with a vengeance. And with them, the hint of a more interesting story! Once again, if this story had been able to fully commit to the magical/supernatural elements, it would be a lot stronger and more interesting. Eric, with his capitalist mindset and strong ties to the outside world via logic and learning, having to navigate fairyland would be interesting. But Eric hasn't learned anything, and so his being ejected from fairyland without his fairy queen doesn't have the ring of tragedy that it should.

#kilmeny of the orchard #kilmeny readalong #i was hoping to finish this today #but i got started late and that is not going to happen #so i think i will leave you here #on a tantalizing glimpse into what this story could have been

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todderwodders · 5 months

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WIP Wednesday pt. 2

Tavtash me baby

“Apparently, they had a wedding recently.”

“Oh? Were you invited in for roast babe and sauced toddler?”

“Perish the thought of Bhaalists having decorum. No. We saw the bride and groom happily drying out like a stalk of herbs by the front door.”

“Horrible,” he says with a laugh, “I always did think marriage a nasty business.”

“Too true. Do you think they even got into bed before they died? Certainly puts a sour note on the whole til death do us part business.”

“Mm, with that lot, they’d have propagated twelve times by now and the latest babe is either apart of the dinner feast or so adapt with a knife that they’re off happily cutting up anyone they can get their hands on in honor of their beloved papa and mama.”

“I suppose you would know,” she says, leaning back against her pillows. The night air sparks heavy. The girl twines her hair around one finger, eyes off to the side. Thoughtful.

“It’s all about some kind of final, grand sacrifice - that love between two devotees must be bled out into some horrifying maw —I forget the rest,” he doesn’t, and the girl quirks an eyebrow but says nothing as she sits up, pouring more wine into his cup. It is a white, with enough added water and sugar that he nearly forgets he’s drinking and not simply sucking down juice. He makes a face.

“Awful stuff, I know,” the girl agrees, sliding the crystal decanter onto its tray of ice.

The tray, for its part, was leaking, soaking the tablecloth and puddling out to the edges. The girl flicks her claws as she settles back down. He leans over, and he will say he took her cup, not that he was handed it, and sips the watered wine out of his mouth. They sit in that silence, as he lets the condensation and radiant cold prick at his toughened fingertips and she looks at the slowly purpling sky. The party feels far away, the Brain closer than ever, and yet—-

“That’s how it always was at a patriar’s party - flash everywhere, with piss poor wine and leaking trays piled high with too much ice,” she says suddenly. Enver feels something like a laugh cross his lips, taking another drink.

“During a heat wave at that.”

“Your luck, or my luck - did you see the meat?”

“You think I can afford confining myself to the lavatory? No, parties are not for food, as you know. The finger meats always taste off, the wine cut, and the sweets a day old and soggy.”

“All could be resolved by less ice in the wine, more ice on the finger food until the moment of serving, and a baker brought into the house in the morning. It’s hardly a difficult plan to conceive.”

“That would require someone knowing what they’re doing, fruit.” Enver could always tell when a house was poorly run - and that was many - simply by looking at the kitchens. Bad management and little sense doled out by chefs with no patience or too much leniency, leaving greasy floors and rat filled larders in their wake. This is why he always eats at home.

The girl laughs. Quiet, mildly indignant, but a laugh all the same. Her teeth flash in the evening light. He finds his hand sliding to her ankle to the sole of her bangled foot.

“Fruit! You are funny.”

He opens his mouth, she holds up a hand. “Because I am so exotic and sweet?”

He leans in, a smile forming before he can stop it. His thumb swipes against her skin. She will like this one.

“Because if I put you between my lips, you’ll produce the loveliest juice I will have ever tasted.”

“Hah!” She cackles, covering her mouth to hide the noise. “What a thing to say to a young lady,” she dabs at her dry eye, though her cheeks are still colored. “It’s almost as if you try to take my balance.”

“I cannot help myself if I take a certain glee in seeing you smile.”

“I say the same thing several times a day.”

“And if I mean it?”

“I think you mean very little of what you say - though it is entertaining, to see you act so. I would not think a man who has learned what he has - how he has - would indulge in little affairs. Where do you keep your papers? I did not find them in Moonrise.”

“They are in my safekeeping, fruit. Perhaps when you have the time and we both no longer run the risk of enslavement, you may look at them, if you are so curious.”

“Well. Whatever am I to do with my scant few hours of rest each day? Sleep, I suppose. Eat, maybe.”

“Yes. Your life is full of burdens and obligations.”

“The load would be lighter if only you shared a little. That slack skinned head …”

“Squeamish, are we? Such a soft touch, aren’t you?”

“Please. It was fascinating. You do not need to be told what a marvel it is. But how did you do it?”

He watches her. Watches, and wonders.

She tilts her head. the string of carmine twined round her horns clatter and swing with the movement.

“You want to know?”

“Aye.”

“Well—- where shall I begin? Probably around the time I uncovered how to wipe and rewrite Gith disks…”

#nic writes #bg3 #tavtash #faltash #I have no defense for this #Faline minor nightmare fetishist

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burningvelvet · 1 year

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thinking about my favorite insane excerpts from john keats’ letters to fanny brawne and how he was buried with all the letters she wrote him…

“If we love we must not live as other men and women do [..] You must be mine to die upon the rack if I want you.”

“I am literally worn to death, which seems my only recourse.”

“You have absorb‘d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.”

“my loveliest my darling! Good bye! I kiss you – O the torments!”

“Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you; every thing else tastes like chaff in my Mouth.”

“Do not call it folly, when I tell you I took your letter last night to bed with me.”

“I fear I am too prudent for a dying kind of Lover. Yet, there is a great difference between going off in warm blood like Romeo, and making one‘s exit like a frog in a frost.”

“I have been haunted with a sweet vision – I have seen you the whole time in your shepherdess dress. How my senses have ached at it! How my heart has been devoted to it! How my eyes have been full of Tears at it!”

“I will resent my heart having been made a football.”

“My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it?”

“When shall we pass a day alone? I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love – but if you should deny me the thousand and first – ‘t would put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through.”

“I wish you could infuse a little confidence of human nature into my heart. I cannot muster any—the world is too brutal for me—I am glad there is such a thing as the grave—I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.”

“I wish I was either in your arms full of faith or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.”

“My dearest Girl,

I have been a walk this morning with a book in my hand, but as usual I have been occupied with nothing but you: I wish I could say in an agreeable manner. I am tormented day and night.”

“You fear, sometimes, I do not love you so much as you wish? My dear Girl I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known you the more have I lov‘d. In every way – even my jealousies have been agonies of Love, in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died for you. I have vex‘d you too much. But for Love! Can I help it? You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.”

“I am living to day in yesterday: I was in a complete fascination all day. I feel myself at your mercy. Write me ever so few lines and tell you [for me] you will never for ever be less kind to me than yesterday – You dazzled me – There is nothing in the world so bright and delicate.”

“If I am the Theme, I will not be the Friend of idle Gossips. Good gods what a shame it is our Loves should be so put into the microscope of a Coterie.”

“People are revengful—do not mind them—do nothing but love me—if I knew that for certain life and health will in such event be a heaven, and death itself will be less painful. I long to believe in immortality. I shall never be able to bid you an entire farewell. If I am destined to be happy with you here—how short is the longest Life. I wish to believe in immortality—I wish to live with you for ever.”

“I shall kiss your name and mine where your Lips have been—Lips! why should a poor prisoner as I am talk about such things? Thank God, though I hold them the dearest pleasures in the universe, I have a consolation independent of them in the certainty of your affection.”

“Do not send any more of my Books home. I have a great pleasure in the thought of you looking on them.”

“Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder‘d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr‘d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet – You have ravish‘d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often ―to reason against the reasons of my Love. I can do that no more – the pain would be too great – My Love is selfish – I cannot breathe without you.”

Sources: Project Gutenberg’s Letters of John Keats to Fanny Brawne (Reeves & Turner, 1878)

#RIP keats u wouldve loved tumblr #dramatic bitch #i wish so badly we had fanny’s letters #i have so many thoughts #much to think about

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bobsquatley · 7 months

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BOBBY'S DIARY!!!!

note: written from bobby's point of view. she is delusional and her idea of bailey is very much rose tinted so dont expect anything too fucked up

My name is Bridget Odalis-Orion Baumann, but everyone knows me as Bobby. I am 18 years old.

This is my Bailey Journal. I am in love with a man much older than me. His name is Bailey, if you hadn't already guessed. He's very tall, and handsome, and he saved me when I was 16. We have a special connection, that's why he saved me. I think he was meant for me, I've never seen him married in my 8 years of knowing him, and I know ALOT about him. Trust me.

I am definitely his favourite. He let's me sit in his office when there are thunderstorms and he pats my head when I do my chores. The only reason he charges rent is because he doesn't want it to be unfair for anyone else, otherwise I think he'd sweep me up and claim me as his... ahh Bailey is so cute <3 Even when he calls me all sorts of names, I know it's because he loves me.

Oct. 4th 20XX 8am

Today something amazing happened. Bailey touched my face. My face!!! His hands were so big and warm...

It was only because of what happened at breakfast- the tiny boy who sat opposite to me decided to pipe up. He said something about Bailey extorting him, but that didn't sound right, so I tuned it out. Eventually Bailey came to check on us all, and he told the boy to be quiet. He obviously didn't like that. He finished his glass of orange juice before lobbing it at the wall behind me! The bits of glass scattered everywhere, and a particularly large bit slashed my cheek.

I didn't really realize what was happening until I saw Bailey infront of me. He spoke in his deep, husky, handsome voice... and told me to get up. I snapped back to reality and felt the blood running down my face. 'Go to my office and wait.' Oh!! Oh my... that means I'd be alone with him, right? I tried to conceal my joy and scurried off to his office. My smile faded when he brought the tiny boy in by the scruff of his neck. I watched as Bailey dragged him to his desk. He told me to close my eyes and I did. I heard alot of slapping, and the tiny boy crying. It was none of my business.

Eventually I heard the boy leave while sniffling. Then I heard Bailey get up and shuffle through some things on his shelf. Then he sat down. Then he said the loveliest sentence ever...

'Come and sit here, brat.'

Whenever he calls me brat... something in me twitches. I think it's my clit, to be honest. Anyway, he patted his leg. He wanted me to sit in his lap!! I didnt hesitate.

He had alcohol wipes, water and a bandage sprawled on his desk. He gripped my cheeks and held my face infront of him. His grip was so strong... He'd definitely leave an imprint for a few hours after... I didn't mind, of course. And his eyes.... oh my goodness gracious I could look into them for hours. Bailey's eyes are a beautiful shade of brownish-red... and his gaze is always so dark... Like he's thinking of all the ways he could ravage me... And those thick eyebrows too... So expressive and handsome. I especially love his stubble. Sometimes I imagine what it would feel like rubbing against my face as he kisses me... So rough, while his lips are so soft... - I will stop myself here. I need to keep telling the story...

He used the water to wash away the blood. Then he picked up an alcohol wipe.

'Don't fucking scream.'

Clit twitched again. God he's so fucking sexy when he gets mad. I wanted to scream just so he had an excuse to bend me over his knee and... ahem.

I decided to be a good girl and stay quiet. He wiped the cut on my cheek- it really stang!! Ouch ouch ouchhhh!!

He quickly ripped the back off the bandage and placed it on my cheek, smoothing it out with his thumb. His thumb was so close to my mouth... I wanted to lick it.

His hand smelt a bit musky actually. I think he might have been masturbating earlier. I would've loved to see... I know his cock is big. The dent in his pants is huge. And he's definitely hairy down there, because his chest is. I don't think he's cut... but that's just my hypothesis. I'm yet to find proof. I want to see his cock with my own eyes... I saw a peak of it once, when he left his fly open. I was horny out of my mind for a week straight and nearly squirted myself to death.

He patted my cheek after he made sure the bandage was on properly.

'Make sure you clean it. I'm not taking you to hospital if it ends up infected.'

His voice is so low... I can't get over it. I can feel it rumble in my stomach. It's so hot. He's so hot. My face was so red. I probably would have came right there if he kept touching my face. But he didnt. :(

I got off of his lap and thanked him before scurrying away. My face was still so red holy shit. I kept thinking about his hands and his face and his voice and FUCK HOLY SHIT. I need him inside of me so badly.

I haven't stopped thinking about him since then. The way he called me brat... how his thighs felt while I sat on them... If I shuffled any further back into him I would have felt the outline of his cock against my ass... Oh my god. Why didnt I push back. FUCK I'm so stupid. If I pushed back..... he would have grabbed my hips.... then he could've humped against me... then... then.... ahhhh...... Okay. Calming down now. As soon as I left Bailey's office I ran to my room- wasn't hungry anymore!!! Just desperately horny...

Of course, I got my vibrator out. Bailey's hands were just all over my face- I could still feel the indents of his fingers. And the bandage... I'm definitely keeping that. I'll have to stick it to this page once I remove it. I jacked off for about an hour non stop. Bailey fuels my sex drive way too much. My clit went numb after. It's still tingling a bit now actually...Might need to get a cold compress. It was worth it though. Thinking of Bailey manhandling me... lifting me onto his cock and forcing me down... tearing my... hymen.... oh dear. I'll be right back...

I'm back. My clit is numb again. No regrets. Except for talking about my hymen. I don't have one. It's pretty common for it to break while doing things like sports so I reckon that's when mine broke, because I've NEVER had sex. I'm saving my first time for Bailey. And he'll be the only one to ever feel the inside of me. Ever.

Anyway, I'm sitting here now, half naked and very disheveled, writing this before I get scatterbrained again. Thank you for listening to me Bailey Journal. I do have some friends, like Robin and Sydney and... Kylar? I guess? But they don't really understand me and Bailey. Robin doesn't really like Bailey for some reason, Sydney doesn't really know who he is, and Kylar is kind of hard to conversate with. Whenever I mention Bailey she seems to glare at me. Anyway, I'll probably be back in a few hours to write about something else Bailey has done- he seems to know exactly how to fluster me <3

#bob stories 🐮#boby baly 🐢#bobby!!! 🦐#dol pc #i finally verbalized her obsession...

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modernmanblues · 12 days

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can i just say how grateful i am to have run into and interacted with some of the loveliest people at coachella this year.

let me start off by saying that seeing no doubt up close (even though i am not the biggest fan) was an absolute thrill and it was all made possible by one special person who encouraged to me to poke my way through the front.

i got to the stage about an hour and a half before the show, during which time Blur was playing (they were brilliant btw). anyway, after Blur finished with their gig this lady who was standing a bit closer to the barrier kept blocking me from trying to get near as she “had been there for hours.” i politely said “there is enough space around you, you can let other people through you know.” and then this woman had the audacity to tell me “i don’t care honey, i’ve been here for hours.” i was absolutely livid, but i kept my cool and tried to switch to a different spot and luckily, i found some space with a bit of a better view so i moved bc i just didn’t appreciate her negative energy.

about 10 minutes before no doubt came on, this lovely girl who was about my height said “hey, we’re both on the shorter side but i have a leg injury so i think you should stand in front me. you get to see them better that way anyway. come on, just push through you can do it!” her words of encouragement moved me, so i took the opportunity to stand as close to the barrier as i could and let me tell you, i had the most amazing view. gwen, the band, they were remarkable and they brought the roof down with their outstanding performance.

my night was made, and it is people like her who make this world a better place. it was more than what i could ever ask for.

#the weekend started off as a bit of a disappointment but that little act of kindness made the rest of the weekend one i will cherish #Coachella #personal

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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ao3 fic rec -

i have just finished reading the current chapters of An epitome of grace by @beaconofthehightower and i am SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

pronouns: she/her pairing: aemond targaryen x snow oc warnings: 'bastard', smut, pregnancy, (mild) violence

YOU DO NOT WANT TO MISS OUT ON THIS SERIES IM TELLING YOU

IM NOT EVEN AN AEMOND GIRLIE AND I AM CLINGING FROM A LEDGE TO HEAR THE NEXT PART

YA'LL DON'T UNDERSTAND

I AM NOT OKAY

MISS MA'AM YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM MY LAWYERS FOR EMOTIONAL DISTRESS

OBVIOUSLY MY POST CONTAINS SPOILERS!!!! SO SPOILER WARNING BRR BRR

Chapter One:

Growing up as a bastard daughter of House Stark in the north was not easy. Something Ylva had learned very quickly as a child, her Snow name a stain on the honor of Rickon Stark.

i genuinely love that miranda has gone through the effort to establish bastard/trueborn dynamics, expectations and consequences

Cregan was the same, doing whatever he could to make her laugh or smile after one of the maids or servants said something cruel or one of her cousins taunted her for being weak and a girl, to boot.

pls he's so ahsjsjsk

"One of the kitchen maids called me a bastard. She said that you and my mother-" he patted his leg, a silent command for her to come closer. "I admit I may not have loved your mother, aye." He said after she had settled. "But I will not say I did not care for her in some way." He said, his hand warm against her head. "You are my daughter. My blood. Your name does not matter here." For all his failings, Rickon Stark had still been her father. She had been cast adrift when he died, grief turning her world bleak, having been closer to him than her siblings were, her sadness buoyed somewhat by the efforts Sara and Cregan made.

YOU JUST HAVE TO TRUST ME THAT HER AND CREGAN'S RELATIONSHIP IS THE BEST THING EVER OKAY?

The ache of his death had faded slightly as the years flew by, and life went on as if he'd never been there at all.

establish the beginnings of grief >>>>>

"No!" Sara Snow's high voice chirped, followed by another giggle.

i love love love that sara is still in the story like a lot of fics use reader as a replacement for her which i understand but ugh i love siblings dynamics in fic

Aemond Targaryen had to be the loveliest thing she had ever laid eyes on.

A quicksilver flash of midnight dark hair behind Lord Stark caught his attention, his hushed words trailing off.

skskskksks pls

"My sister." Before he could reply further, the steward of Winterfell leaned closer to speak lowly in his ear, causing his brow to furrow and a frown to appear on his mouth. "Forgive me, Prince Aemond. It seems there is a matter I must attend to."

PLS HE'S SO DONE LMAO

"Lord Stark named me Ylva."

again with bastard dynamics ahsjsj the fact that she would call him 'lord stark'

"You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen." Aemond admitted unashamedly one time when she had, his eye on her face. Fighting against the blush that threatened to cover her cheeks in bright tones of red, Ylva placed the tome down and stepped toe to toe with him yet again. "Careful, silver Prince-" she said, eyes gleaming silver as she pressed against his front.

PLS

THEY GIVE ME FEELS ALREADY

Father would've scolded her if he'd been here, if he could've seen her now, lusting after a prince.

oOp-

"I want to kiss you." he said again.

THE AUDACITY OF A PRINCE I SWEAR

"You're a prince. The brother of the King. You can have anything you want. Anyone you want." his eye went half-lidded as he looked down at her. "And If I want you?"

screaming crying throwing up

it gives me the fuzzies

"Will you give yourself to me?" Ylva bit back a cry when his mouth fell to her neck. "It's rather too late for that-" another gasp came tumbling out of her throat, this one higher pitched than the last. She shuddered when goosebumps erupted on her skin as his hands pushed her skirts up. "Aemond-" She held him against her tighter, gasping. "Say it again-"

ASHSJSJSJS

"You will not leave me like this."

👀

his fingers combing through her dark hair.

i love this both in fic and irl fr fr fr

"Will you teach me High Valyrian?" Ylva asked,

AJSSJSK

Wounds littered their bodies in the form of bloody bitemarks, scratches and a cacophony of bruises that painted their pale skin in violent tones of black and blue.

👀

Prince Daeron

PLS I AM SUCH A DAERON DEFENDER

"When was the last time you bled, Ylva?" One of the sweeter maids had asked her, after Aemond had been gone for a month

NAHHH MIRANDA? MISS MA'AM???

Chapter Two:

her fingers twisting a ring that Aegon had given her in her hands

THE DETAIL >>>>>>>>>>>

“A dragon's egg nestles in the snow…"

babe really out here with the best tea you know that if i was in westeros that i would be demanding daily tea sessions

“The princes Aemond and Daeron and the dragons Vhagar and Tessarion have been sighted just outside the city, Your Grace.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (my underappreciated king)

He did not mention dare Ylva to his mother, knowing she would not react well to it. That she would see nothing past the taint of Ylva's bastardry and her Snow name.

yet you've been gone for half the year."

Feeling vindictive,

ugh i love when he serves cunt

"I'll summon you again, Erea. Tell the White Worm you are mine and mine alone, pretty thing." Aegon set a heavy pouch of coins in her hand,

suddenly im changing the first 2 letters of my name (okay but fr my girl helaena doesn't deserve that)

"Brother!" Aegon's purple eyes were dark as glared at Aemond, silver brows lowered angrily. "Erea! Don't listen to him!" Aegon shouted at her back, sinking his teeth into his brother's hand when it shot out and covered his mouth.

I LET OUT A LOUD ASS CACKLE I SWEAR

"She’s a freak.

Thoughts of Ylva a chain around his ankles

ooOOoo i love that

Aegon leaned his elbows on the table, attention focused on Aemond now. “It is when it’s all mother and grandfather speak of.” he said casually, as if he was merely speaking of some trivial insignificant thing. “Shall I order you to tell me? As your king?”

this bitch-

Aegon snorted. "He’s not a dog to be kept on a leash, grandfather. He’d bite and snap at us all to bits if he were.” Alicent sighed deeply, knowing her eldest son was right.

PLS--

Alicent blinked against the tears stinging her eyes. “He’s my son. Of course I have.”

my wife <3

Before Criston Cole put the conqueror’s crown on his head.

👀

"Do not ever-" Aemond seethed, stepping closer again. "Call Ylva that. She is worth a thousand of the whores you prefer disgracing our sister so much." Aegon merely let a slight grin lift his mouth.

ASJSKSKSK

"I find I do not give a shit what our grandsire thinks. Not in this at least."

THAT'S RIGHT BITCH

"I see her in my head. I see she thinks of you as often as you do of her."

exposed fr

Didn’t do justice to her at all.

The blood drained from his face, leaving him paler than soured milk. The letter said nothing about the child she carried inside her.

OH?

"If you truly loved her, you'd let her go. Forget about her. My sister is not a caged bird made to sing for others." Cregan said, refusing to bow. "The blood of the First Men runs through her veins."

IS ANYBODY GONNA ASK WHAT MY BBG THINKS? HM? HM??

my lady Snow

the fact that he still calls her 'my lady'

"As if I could ever forget your face. Seared into my bones as it is."

I AM NOT OKAY

MIRANDA

MISS MA'AM

MOMMY-IN-LAW

PLEASE

WATCH ME INJECT THIS INTO MY VEINS

"No." Aemond said hoarsely against her mouth. He pulled back, flushed and wild eyed. It only made him all the more prettier, his silver hair bright in the dimming daylight. "You're mine. This is mine."

Cregan seemed to be unable to look elsewhere, his brow furrowed as he glared at Aemond with dark eyes.

"You were smoke and shadow in my head. No matter what I did... what I thought..." His breath hitched as her hands edged it down his arms, flats of her hands exploratory almost as she reacquainted herself with every inch of him. "The mere thought of you lurking in the recesses, the deepest parts of my mind with your face, your touch..."

MIRANDA THIS IS MEAN NOW I'M OBSESSED WITH THEM

One heart. Two minds. One soul; cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.

this is so poetic 😭

"You are my heart. My husband." To his nose and his closed eye. "Beating a song in my bones and in my blood..."

PLS

“And I did. You'll have all the books you’ll ever want. Books and tomes and maps...” He punctuated each word with a kiss. "Don't forget the horses, Aemond."

PLEASE THIS BITCH IS ME I CAN'T

“Not mistress, mother. Wife.” he bit his lip. “What did you say?” Alicent said, startled into silence. “Wife.” he repeated slowly. “I married her in the godswood of Winterfell.” Alicent paled and shook her head. “What? Gods be good, Aemond, tis not funny-“

to the barren waste of the North?

SIR??????

Aemond spoke over her. "Come here, wife."

okay but the fact that she is given a title by him probably means so much to her, i can't imagine the amount of trauma being called a 'bastard' all her life would do to her sense of self

It galled Alicent Hightower to admit Ylva Snow was a lovely thing, watching the girl bend and kiss Aemond on the cheek.

THAT'S RIGHT WIFEY

"Rhaenyra!" he shouted, voice echoing in the ancient halls of the ancestral Targaryen stronghold. "You won't believe what the little half Hightower mutt has done!"

oOp-

Chapter Three:

An unfriendly place full of the ghosts of those long dead that lingered like wraiths amidst the ears that listened behind every wall and the eyes that watched behind every door.

spilling his seed again and again and again.

was when she would slip from the keep and into the spot where the white as bone weirwood was, kneeling before it with her hands clasped together under the red as blood leaves.

poor angel she probably misses home so much

The sting is only lessened a fraction by the kindness of his sister Helaena

HELAENA MY LOVE

what goes on in his pretty head

as she pressed a kiss to the left side of his brother's face.

okay but that's their thing i love it

"To Storm's End," Otto echoed, repeating the words tempestuously, as if he was not speaking to his king, but to an unruly child. "We need allies and Lord Baratheon-" Aegon thumped his fist down, scowling.

OH WOW OH NO HERE WE GO BESTIES BUCKLE UP

Helaena savored the pain of the rough stone and hard glass digging into her back, feeling him against her thigh, already hard as he mouthed at the expanse of pale skin of her throat, his fingers fumbling behind her back as he undid the laces of her stays.

oh my sweet girl

In Naerys Targaryen's case, it falls on a balance that teeters dangerously between the two.

👀

Remnants lingered in the way she still smelled fire and smoke and blood, still heard dragons bellowing, the clash and ringing of steel.

my sweet girl i just want to give her a hug

"How dare you," she spit at him,

YOU TELL HIM BABE

"Do it again," he demanded,

It was a hazy thing, an epitome full of light and grace

"How is it to ride a dragon, goodsister?"

this bitch--

“Go back to Winterfell, girl.” was all he said as he turned around and left her and Alicent in silence.

"Did you touch yourself when I was gone?"

"Who are you to dare to touch a prince?"

OH SHE'S DONE MORE THAN TOUCHED HIM LADDY, WHERE DO YOU THINK THE BABY CAME FROM? A STORK?

The egg that nestled in Naerys's cradle began to crack, tiny claws of black pushing from the pieces,

YES YES YES

Chapter Four:

miranda told me in advance that i should be scared of this...

A raven flew lower and lower as it circled over the ancient hold of Dragonstone,

OH WE'RE GOING FROM HERE? SLAY

MY HUSBAND AWAITS

"A triviality?" Rhaenyra repeated, eyes narrowing. "My inheritance, my throne is not a mere triviality. He is a fool and a craven and a traitor-" her mouth flattened into a thin, firm line as she spoke.

:( we didn't see my husband but it's okay i'll just manifest him

"That I fear I will wake from this and be back in Winterfell with Cregan and Sara and Rickon. Before you were mine."

don't give otto ideas, he'll pretend you went delulu

No matter if loving a dragon left her nothing more than a burned husk. A shell of who she'd been and everything she held dear.

THIS LINEEEEEE

"Seven hells-" he cursed, mouth twisting as his fingers yanked forcefully at the laces of her dress, grumbling when they wouldn't give. "How do you do this every day?" he growled, letting out a satisfied grunt when at last they loosened.

PLS-

"My silver prince-"

your honour i love them

"Goodsister!" Aegon's voice was

hide

before Alicent twitched her hand in his direction.

IS WIFEY ABOUT TO COME THROUGH??

not like Rhaenyra who hides her Strong bastards

nvm

"You'll dance, won't you, Your Grace?"

please i love her so much she's so funny sometimes

(but this bitch like me fr this is the type of shit i pull)

"I think you have had too much wine, dear wife." He said instead.

i will cut you

"Anger makes you beautiful,"

THEY'RE SO FUCKING CHAOTIC AND UNHINGED AJSJSKDK

emotional rollercoaster every chapter i swear

miranda you will be hearing from my lawyers

"Ylva... your chamber... there was-"

WHAT???? ARE THEY- WAIT WHAT???

The world slowed, the feeling of the walls all but closing in on him as the night echoed with the enraged bellows of a dragon and her rider.

MIRANDA

MISS MA'AM

THAT WAS INCREDIBLE

IM STILL COMPREHENDING THIS

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x snow oc #aemond targaryen fic #ao3 fic rec #fic recs #thea's fic recs #miranda bby #mommy-in-law miranda

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normalstuff · 2 years

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All because of you

Summary: Jason likes Chrissy. Eddie also likes Chrissy. But Chrissy? Well, Chrissy likes Y/n.

Pairings: Chrissy Cunningham x fem! reader

Warnings: hinted homophobia (it's the 80s), clueless Eddie, small cursing, the reader is a bit taller than Chrissy, sad in between but a happy ending!

Words: 1987

Hello! Welcome to my first Stranger things fanfic in this new blog. I really like how this turned out, so I hope you like it too.

Please, tell me what you think about it!

Chrissy Cunningham. The loveliest but untouchable cheerleader of Hawkins High. The queen of high school, the inaccessible girl everyone wanted to have. And also, Jason's girlfriend, Eddie Munson's most despicable enemy.

"I'm gonna make a move on her, y/n."

"Yeah, of course you are ."

...

"Oh shit, you are serious."

Speeding through the school cafeteria towards the Hellfire club table, I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for Eddie.

"I don't know what are you thinking, Eddie, but it's not going to end well." Side-eyeing him, I responded. "Chrissy doesn't even look at you, and Jason hates you!"

"That's why I'm going to discover where she lives and give her a surprise, my little elf."

You know what, I no longer feel sorry for him. That's the stupidest shit I have ever heard him—

"I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend when Jason's over at her house, I want to see his face when that happens."

I can't believe he just said that.

"I can't believe you just said that, Eddie!" Setting my lunch tray on the table, I took a seat next to him. "Jason's going to beat you up, you know!"

"Silly thing, y/n." Grinning, he continued. "I have an ace up my sleeve."

"And what's that, if I can know?"

"Of course you can know it baby, after all, you are my ace."

Looking up at him, I blinked a couple of times. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You are Chrissy's neighbor, aren't you?" Putting his arm around my shoulder, he made a movement with his other hand. "You just have to tell me when she's home with Jason, and then, boom! I appear through the door."

"I'm not going to help you with that."

Starting a staring contest, Eddie tried to make me fail. Of course, he couldn't do it and blinked. "Oh, come on y/n! What's the big deal with that? You are not the one who likes Chrissy, I am!"

That sentence struck something in me. "Yeah, I don't like Chrissy..."

"Then you are going to help me." Standing up, he continued. "If you don't want me to go to her house, I could call her to the picnic table in the woods. There, I will confess."

That statement was something that didn't stick well with me. Continuing to eat my lunch, I started to think about my relationship with the cheerleader. She is just my neighbor, but once we were best friends. Once, she would light up my day. She still does it. And she's beautiful. But of course, I don't like her.

At that moment, Chrissy passed next to our table. Eddie fell silent, and I stopped hearing anything in the room. For a moment, it was only her all I could ever think of.

Maybe, just maybe, I did like Chrissy Cunningham. And maybe, just maybe, I liked her a little bit too much.

----

Later on that day, I couldn't stop thinking about what Eddie had said before.

"You are not the one who likes Chrissy."

But, what if am I?

Chrissy and I had always had a complicated relationship. We were best friends, until one day, her parents denied me into their house. From that moment, we were only strangers.

She became popular, and I became a freak.

I still smile, greet, and help her whenever I can, but Jason's always there to stop me. Jason seems to have a reason to hate me beyond being one of the local outcasts in high school, and I can't seem to recall what have I done to carry his hate.

Everything changed since her parents banned me from seeing Chrissy, and now I can't help but think that I may know the answer to our separation. We were nothing but good friends, with maybe a little bit more love to give. We were nothing but a perfect couple destined to be together, until we remembered that we were supposed to partake in a friendly relationship.

I started to like Chrissy, and I think she started to like me too.

Time flew by, and even though we weren't supposed to speak, our eyes knew the truth.

Every stare was longer than the other, and every small touch between library books was enough to set a sparkle into our bodies. Bodies that were connected with the red line of a forbidden love.

Time flew by, and I still like Chrissy. And now, now I can only pray that Chrissy likes me back.

----

Before going home and calling it a day, Eddie stopped me again.

"Where are you going, y/n?" He rushed to my side, grabbing me by my arms and spinning me until I was in front of him. "We need to create a plan for me to talk to Chrissy, remember? I need to bring her to the picnic table."

"I'm not going to help you Eddie! I already told you."

"Come on, pleeease y/n!" He started to shake me in his arms. "I need you!"

Knowing him, he isn't going to stop anytime soon. So I did the only thing I could to stop him.

"Okay, okay! Jeez, Eddie, you are unbearable!" I gave him a light slap in the chest with my hand, and he finally released me. "I'm going to ask her if she wants to come with me to the table to talk, and I will leave once you arrive. But I can't promise that it will work."

"Thanks y/n, you are the best!" And then he ran towards his old van.

"Yeah, I'm the best..."

This is hurting more than I expected. Perhaps I'm not prepared to see Chrissy with other people, even though she is already with Jason. Why does Eddie like her? The speech about popularity he always gives isn't about people like her?

Wandering to the gym where the cheerleaders must be ending their practice, I think about what I can say. It has been some time since I last talked with her. I don't even know how to approach her without my heart trying to leave my body. I don't even know how to do anything.

Strolling towards my final destination, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around, and I can't believe my luck.

"Hey, y/n." Chrissy. "Can we talk?"

----

"Why did you bring me here, Chrissy?" I asked, starting a rambling stumbling over my own words. "It's funny, you know? I was going to ask you to come here to the picnic table but you beat me to it, as I needed to talk to you about something, or well, about someone who is interested in you, or maybe not not interested, but I needed to tell you some information, and well, you came asking to talk to me and—"

"Y/n!" Chrissy grabbed my face. "Relax. Everything's fine, don't worry. I just wanted to talk to you."

Nodding, she let go of my face. Then, she continued speaking.

"I don't care that someone is interested in me. Actually," She grabbed her hair and started to play with it. She always does it when she's nervous. "em, actually, I just broke up with Jason."

My heart skipped a beat. Finally.

"What, why?" I needed to act at least a little bit worried for her, even though I had been waiting all my life for this.

"Y/n..." Looking straight at my eyes, she continued. "I broke up with him because of a person."

Eddie?

"And that person is you."

If I had died at that moment, I wouldn't have minded. Even if I ended up in hell, I knew what heaven felt like for once in my life.

"What?" I repeated more calmly. I felt hot all over my body.

"I couldn't keep up with our lies." She took my hands in hers. "I don't love him, and you don't deserve this."

"Are you joking, right?" Even though I could have died at that moment, there was a part of me that felt wretched at the possibility of it just being a sick trick. It has been a long time since we talked.

"No!" Chrissy let go of my hands and separated a bit from me. She knew I needed space. "I need to explain this to you. I need to make you understand this, and in order to explain it, I need you to know that I broke up with Jason because of you. All because of you."

I can't believe it. I shouldn't believe it. Not after everything.

"Did you seriously just break up with Jason for me?"

"How could I not?" Chrissy tried to step towards me, but I stepped further away from her. I could see the pained look in her eyes.

"Y/n." Looking up at me, I saw her pleading expression begging me to listen to her. I sat on the bench, and she stood in front of me, with a large space in between.

"Y/n, look." Closing her eyelids, she took a deep breath. At that moment, I knew that she wanted to say something important. Something significant for her that would change both of our lives. "My life with Jason has always been a lie." Opening her eyes, she continued. "My life with him has always been a lie because I have been forced to love someone who I don't want to!" A few tears escaped her eyes.

"What does that mean, Chrissy?"

"It means that I like who I shouldn't." She hugged herself. "It means that I have always liked that person who made me smile the most, the person who is my neighbor and that always greeted me in the mornings, even though I wouldn't talk to them in school. It means that I like someone who I hope understands what I'm talking about."

"Are you saying that—"

"I like girls y/n!" I hopped out of my seat, listening to what I had always dreamed of. "And above everything else, I like you."

Fighting a smile, I talked. "What?"

Seeing my new facial expression, she giggled softly. Her face was changing too. "I like you." I couldn't believe my luck. "And I want to be yours, as much as I want you to be mine." I took a small step towards her. "Even though this has to be secret, I don't want anyone else to call you theirs or to be the partner of someone who doesn't care about me as half as you care about me." This time, she was the one who advanced a little to me. "I want to be loved by you." And then, she smiled. And then, I knew I had fallen hard for Chrissy Cunningham, and there was no way I could turn back from this feeling.

"Then..." I breathed heavily with a shaky voice, my eyes watering after her confession. "Then I guess I should start calling you my girlfriend, don't you think?"

Walking towards me with little but enthusiastic steps, she put her hands around my neck and smiled. It was the brightest smile I had ever seen on her face, and thinking that I was the one behind that smile just added fuel to the fire in my heart.

"Then I guess I should be kissing you, don't you think?"

Before I could react to that statement, she tip-toed her way into my lips and gave me my very first kiss. Putting my hands around her waist, I leaned in, and, for a moment, I knew that everything was going to be alright.

"Oh my god!"

Well, everything was alright for a brief moment, at least. Separating us, we found Eddie at the end of the old picnic table, mouth agape and stumbling over his words.

At least now he won't try to make moves on Chrissy. After all, she's my girl, and she will always be my girl.

Thank you for reading!

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