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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

Text

Life drawing

Nude model!reader x art student!Zoro.

Modern AU. Sequel to The art model.

This fic is dedicated to @star-yawnznn.

*****

Zoro grins when, opening the house door, he finds himself face to face with a bag of delicious chocolate cookies, courtesy of your mother's bakery, that you're offering him with your arms raised, like a celebrant sacrificing to the Gods.

"You know, there's no need for you to bring something every time you come; you're already doing me a favour."

You shrug as you walk inside, letting him close the door behind you. "Even though he doesn't put on weight, eating so much can't be good for Luffy's health." you point out "And I know you like them."

"Well, they are good..."

You share a smile as you follow him towards the kitchen (like the rest of the house a spacious room, perfectly clean and tidy) where, without even bothering to ask, Zoro uses the enormous coffee machine on the counter to prepare a drink like he knows you like it.

Six months have passed since your first meeting with Zoro at the East Blue Art School, six months since you accepted his request to pose for him privately at home as well as in Shanks' class - your home, at first, since he needed to keep his interest in drawing and art, not to mention the fact he hasn't stopped attending the school years ago, a secret from his father. Unfortunately, last month your landlord has decided to host his niece in the flat's spare room, while she searches for a more stable accommodation. Even more regrettably, your new, temporary flatmate is an aspiring metal guitarist, who told you she needs to practice at least six hours a day if she wants to join one of the best bands in town, which means the place has not known a moment of silence ever since she put down her luggage, as well as her guitar, in the hallway.

Which is why in the last four weeks you have been the one going to Zoro's, instead of the other way around. It's a temporary solution, you have assured him, feeling guilty for the nuisance even though nothing of it was your fault, and hoping you will soon have the whole flat to yourself once more, even though your landlord's niece has not been as industrious in looking for a new place to stay as she has been in preparing for her musical career. You know how important his drawing classes are to Zoro, but he assured you it wouldn't be a problem: his father, a business broker who also manages a fencing school, has recently landed an important client that keeps him at work every day until late.

And so, your already familiar arrangement has changed, the location of your private modelling session shifting from your flat to Zoro's home. You don't mind - you actually like it, and not just because it allows you to get away from your flatmate's guitar for a while. You like going to Zoro's; you like Zoro himself, you have come to realize, and while you do not yet feel ready to confess your feelings, you enjoy spending time with him, and helping him to improve as an artist.

"How was your day? You had a double shift today, if I'm not mistaken." you point out as you accept the coffee Zoro is offering you, and listen as he tells you about his day at work, at the bookstore owned by his friend Kuina's father "You know, I'd be curious to see the shop one day, after you've told me so much about it..."

"You can come whenever you want; I can give you a discount, if Koushirou is not there." he offers, and winks at you; he's wearing a black shirt that makes the green of his hair stand out even more than usual, his three earrings dangling gently when he moves.

"Well, there was a book I was thinking about buying..."

Chocolate cookies, you both agree, go splendidly with coffee. You enjoy your break in silence, at ease next to each other in the kitchen lit up by the soft sunset glow; according to Luffy, Zoro doesn't make friends easily, and you are pretty proud you are now part of that narrow group - or at least, that he doesn't appear to mind you coming to his house.

"Shall we?" you propose in the end; as much as you enjoy his company, the time at your disposal is limited, since you still have work to do for your classes tomorrow "You want to continue with what we were doing last time? I was lying on one side with a book in my hands..."

"Actually..."

"Yes?"

Suddenly tense, Zoro rubs the back of his head, hesitating for a moment as if not knowing how to broach a delicate subject. "I was wondering if this time we could do something a bit different."

Your sessions with Zoro, whether at his place or yours, usually follow the same pattern. Every two times, he asks you to assume a new pose: standing, sitting (on a kitchen chair, on a stool, on the floor...) or lying on the sofa, sometimes with an object in your hands but usually in a way that allows you to read or review your notes. Once you are comfortable, Zoro makes sure the room is well-lit, places a comfortable chair in front of you, retrieves his sketchbook and pencils from the suitcase he keeps them hidden in together with his art school books to make sure his father doesn't find them, and gets to work, drawing diligently for an hour and a half.

It is, in the end, more or less what happens during your classes at the art school; after all Zoro's drawing sessions are the reason you meet, the reason why he asked you to pose for him. You expected to do the same today as well, just like the many times you have met before; you didn't expect him to propose a change... and, you will reflect later on, you have no idea what this day has in store for you.

"What d'you mean?"

Zoro has turned his back to you, focused on the cups you used for your coffee and that he is now washing in the sink "Well... I was thinking today you could pose like you do in class."

"As in...?"

"Naked, yes. Unless, that... bothers you..."

It shouldn't, of course. After all, you have been an art model for six months, and by now you like to think you are quite good at it, since Shanks no longer needs to correct your posture and you can keep the most uncomfortable pose for a long time without complaining, even though the job is more tiring than it looks and in the end your muscles beg for mercy. Besides the fact that it helps you pay rent (you expected your landlord to lower it until his niece found another place to stay, since your apartment is not fully yours anymore, but the thought must have slipped his mind) and your bills, posing is probably the best job you have ever had.

You enjoy it, a lot, in a way you can't properly explain to someone who has never been in your place, and by now you are completely accustomed to pose naked, like you have done from the very first day. Shanks was right, there is nothing sexual, or inappropriate, in being an art model, nothing you should feel guilt or embarrassment for; if the students look at your breast, it is simply to make sure they are correctly drawing it, which is not always easy, and when a couple of months ago, Nami asked you whether you had put on a little weight (you had, no doubt, because of all the treats your mother brings you back from the bakery!) she assured you she only wanted to know because the shape of your belly and thighs had changed marginally and she really wanted to portray you as faithfully as she could. In the end, for the students it wouldn't make much difference if on the stool at the center of their semicircle Shanks had placed a potted plant or a teddy-bear, instead of asking you to sit there, apart from the fact that the human form has been the most popular art subject since time immemorial, and any artist must be capable to competently reproduce it.

You expected your sessions with Zoro to go the same way, which would have been even easier for you, since you would have been in your own home. Instead, the first time he came to your place he said you could keep your clothes on, because the naked body was harder to draw and he, unfortunately, still had to learn to correctly portray clothed people. He had no preference regarding the clothes you wore, and didn't mind to choose poses that allowed you to read or revise your notes during the sessions.

And now this. You should have imagined he would ask you sooner or later, you relect; Zoro's figure drawings have improved since you started posing for him privately, and by now he must feel capable of moving to something more challenging, which means that it is time for you to take your panties off for him - so to speak.

"Of course, if that makes you... uncomfortable, or if you'd rather have someone present..."

"Of course not; it's... all right." you hurry to answer after a moment of uncertainty; after six months of private sessions you had gotten used to posing with your clothes on, but after all it is nothing you haven't done a hundred times already "I didn't bring my night-gown, though."

Zoro gives you this ("It is clean, I swear.") and invites you to leave your clothes in the bathroom near the living room, while he prepares his things.

"I will be just a minute."

"Take your time. Just..." he hesitates, once more as if unsure of what to say, which strikes you as odd - Zoro is not a blabbermouth, but in six months since you met him you never had the impression he was too shy, or afraid, to say what is on his mind. By now you are, if not exactly friends, at least good acquaintances, and you never had troubles finding something to talk about; why does he seem so awkward all of a sudden? What delicate matter is he afraid to broach...? "Listen, you know I'm Luffy friend, do you?"

Considering that your friend's crew has practically adopted you ever since you started posing for their class, so much that you are routinely invited to hang out with them and they all came to your birthday party two months ago, the question sounds unexpected, and weird, at your ears.

"Of course. Why is that relevant now?"

"Nothing. Just... I'll wait for you here, ok?"

Still a little perplexed, you move to the bathroom, where you leave your clothes in a neat pile and refresh yourself; there is nothing more unpleasant than body odour when one is posing, naked or otherwise. Zoro's night-gown is, predictably, not exactly the right fit for you, which shouldn't be a problem, since you are going to take it off in less than a minute, but wearing it feels strange all the same... intimate, in a way. You had never worn a man's clothes before, or rather, no man had ever given you his clothes to wear, and having Zoro do it, even just to avoid having you walk buck naked around his house...

You chide yourself for those naive, childish thoughts, especially towards a man on whom you can no longer deny having a crush, and whose company you genuinely enjoy; you don't want Zoro to think he made you uncomfortable. You are here to pose for him, and pose for him you will, like the professional model you are; everything else doesn't matter... even though you have to admit, you like being alone with Zoro, having his attention focused on you. A secret, innocent joy you allow yourself to indulge in.

You wash away what is left of the make-up you had applied earlier, before heading to work, remain for a moment still, staring at your reflection and reminding yourself you are an adult and ought to behave accordingly, and then leave the bathroom.

Zoro is preparing your station in the living room, with a lamp near the sofa, on which you have already posed lying many times... after taking off your shoes, and nothing else. His sketchbook and pencils are placed on a little table near his favourite chair, retrieved from their hiding spot in the suitcase; propped against the chair's armrest are Zoro's three swords. He doesn't carry them around when he is at home, but, he told you, he always keeps them close, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment, even in the safety of his own home: it is a not uncommon habit among swordsmen, that his master (and father) accustomed him to since he was a child.

He turns, startled a little, when he hears you approach, and when he sees you wearing his night-gown he seems to have troubles swallowing for a moment. "So, uhm, everything ok?"

You wonder whether he expected you to have troubles taking your clothes off. "Sure. So... how do you want me?" you ask back; then, suddenly realizing how that question, that you must have posed a hundred times before, might sound differently from how you had intended it, you hurry to rephrase: "What pose do you want me to assume?"

Zoro asks you to lie in profile, propped on one elbow, with one leg stretched and the other partially bent towards your belly; the pose is similar to one Shanks asked you to assume for a class at the Art School last month, which leads you to suspect Zoro was not satisfied of his work of that day. He looks away, seemingly embarrassed, when he sees you take off his night-gown, even though he saw you do the same at the school a hundred times already.

You don't find it weird. In fact, it might be because you're doing it in a new place for the first time, but for a moment you feel awkward as well, almost as if that gesture had a different meaning, almost as if it mattered...

The night-gown passes from your hand to his; while your gazes don't meet, your hands brush against each other.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem."

A moment later you are lying on the sofa, easily settling in the same position as a few weeks ago.

"Are you comfortable?" Zoro asks you, and you nod, by now used to the slight inconvenience of an unnatural pose, since no one, especially not at your age, has ever died from a stiff arm or a sore leg, and by now Shanks' class has drawn you in positions that wouldn't be out of place in the experts' section of a yoga manual.

"Yeah, don't worry. Can you take my book from my bag, please? I have an exam next week..."

A minute later Zoro is already sitting at his place, the sketchbook balanced on his knee, the by now familiar whisper of the pencil rubbing on the paper filling the room. As usual you remain still as a statue, face lowered on the pages of your book... even though your eyes keep rising to the young man in front of you; at times your gazes meet, and you could swear Zoro's eyes are smiling even though his expression remains serious.

You like this, you have realized for a while, this weird menage you have built together, the chaste intimacy of posing for a single artist and the innocent flattery of having his full attention focused on you - if only because Zoro wants to makes sure he draws the angle of your shoulder as faithfully as he can. You have no idea how long he will need your help for, or if he will ever decide he can do without your private sessions, but you are determined to enjoy it as long as it lasts, and to pose for him every time he asks you to, even if it means sacrificing the little free time school and work leave you; it is a very unexpected sort of relationship, perhaps an anomalous one, intimate and at the same time strictly professional, but you treasure it all the same. Zoro is not a particularly personable man, you have come to suspect, but you know he is fond of you, and appreciates you as a model and a person.

You can't help wanting more. But at the same time you are happy with what you have, and you hope it lasts.

Zoro draws in complete silence for a while, while you revise two chapters of your book, trying to make sense of your own notes.

"You are not cold?" he asks after a while, and you assure him you are all right; you have already noticed Zoro has turned the heating on, no doubt more for your benefit than his, since you are the one who can't simply put a sweater on if she gets chilly. You'll have to thank him.

"My father knows about you, you know." he adds, almost absentmindedly, and your are immediately alarmed.

"What?! He knows...?"

"Not that you pose for me, and I still attend the East Blue; he... he knows I had a girl over, that's it." Zoro explains, face momentarily hidden behind his sketchbook "Last time... I forgot to wash the coffee cups, and he noticed there was a trace of lipstick on the border of one."

"Oh, God, Zoro, I'm sorry..."

"That's ok." he assures you, while a sudden grin blossoms on his lips "He didn't mind, and I doubt he could ever imagine what we do. He just thought... you know..."

You force yourself not to smile. "... that you have a girlfriend?" you finish for him "And that you had taken advantage of his absence to invite her over?"

"Something like that, yes. I... I didn't correct him, I hope you don't mind."

You don't. "I don't." At all. Another small, innocent pleasure, part of a little fantasy you're probably too old for but that in the end doesn't hurt anyone; and truth to be told, you are happy to help Zoro, since you know how much attending the drawing school means to him. You return your attention to your book, but try as you might you really can't focus, let alone memorize the notions on the page in front of you, your eyes simply skimming the text without retaing any information.

And the fault is his. Well, it is yours, to be honest, since you are by now an expert model, not to mention a veteran student and an adult woman, and you should be able to ignore the presence of a man, no matter how handsome, and concentrate on something as important as an imminent exam. For God's sake, Zoro has never skipped a class at the art school, which means that you have taken off your clothes in front of him two times a week for six months! By now he knows your naked body so well he could draw it by heart, and he does need a model, even though his life drawings have improved, it isn't simply a ruse to... meet you in a more private setting and... and... and why are you fantasizing about that, now?!

Oh, God. You do like him, you realize suddenly, much more than you had imagined or allowed yourself to think until today. He is handsome, and athletic, and he has a beautiful smile, but in six months since you first met you have learnt to know Zoro, and to appreciate and respect him as a man and as a friend as well; you like how protective he is of his friends (and of you, given that time that a drunk man approached you as he was walking you back at the bus stop after a drawing session; Zoro drew the Wado Ichimonji and threatened to amputate any part of his body the man would touch you with) and steadfast in the pursuit of his dream, and kind-hearted towards those who suffer or endure injustice, even though those who know him less well wrongly consider him cold and selfish. You are attracted to him, and while you already enjoy being his model and friend, you do wish your relationship would develop beyond that... you wish to be important for him, to feel his gaze brush against your skin and know he is not simply wondering whether he drew your arm faithfully enough or he should start over.

"Shanks is very pleased with your progress." you mention after a while; unlike what happens during class at the art school, where silence is religiously kept from the beginning to the end of the class, Zoro told you he doesn't mind chatting a bit while he draws, and he is exactly the sort of conversationalist you prefer: no interest in small talk, and has always something interesting to say "I heard him saying that at the end of your last class."

Zoro is pleased, even smug, as he smiles and tilts his head to one side, as if to observe you from a marginally different perspective. "He did say I got better at life drawing, even though I shouldn't focus on that and neglect my other classes."

"I'm sure that won't happen."

"I hope not... and in any case, if I improved I also owe it to you. I haven't forgotten how much you're doing for me, (name)."

"I'm doing nothing, just staying still."

"You know what I mean. I know you'd have many better things to do with your time, and you're not even letting me pay you..."

"Zoro... we are friends." you point out, completely serious; you are now looking straight at him, so engrossed in your conversation to notice you have broken the first, cardinal rule for all art models: never change pose mid-session "You know I could never ask you money. I am happy to help you, since I know how much this matters to you."

Zoro looks at you; he has stopped drawing, even through you couldn't say exactly when. "We weren't friends when you accepted to pose for free."

"No, but you were Luffy's friend, which is equally important. Would you have accepted to be paid, if you were in my place?"

"Maybe I would have."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"No, I wouldn't have." he admits, and smiles at you, and you have never wanted to kiss anyone so much in your life "Anyway, I owe you, truly. Thank you."

You assure him you are happy to be his model, and you really are, so much that you hope your sessions will continue even now that his life drawings have improved; truth to be told, you'll happily spend the evenings of the rest of your life posing for Zoro... unless, of course, one of the two decides, or in your case finds the courage, to ask the other out.

"I think you changed position."

"Yeah, sorry." you admit as you lower your gaze once more.

"No, it's your arm."

"My arm?" you repeat, perplexed, since you hadn't noticed you had moved it "Are you sure?"

"Yes, you moved it when you used your hand to turn the page. Wait..."

Zoro stands, crossing the living room floor in a quick stride until he's keeling in front of the sofa; not looking at you (accurately not looking at you) he lifts your wrist with his fingers and moves your arm a few inches to the left. It's a completely innocent gesture, but you choose that very moment to unthinkingly move on the cushion, searching for a more comfortable position... and inadvertently pressing your chest against Zoro's hand.

His fingers are warm against the skin of your breast, the sensation clear, almost painfully so, despite the contact lasting less than a second. You gasp, more out of surprise than alarm, but that is nothing compared to Zoro's reaction: he jumps, retracting his hand as if he had burned himself, and his face has burst into flames as well, his usually tan complexion turning a bright red.

"Oh my God...!!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Zoro almost shouts; he moves back so quickly he almost trips on his own feet "I didn't do it on purpose, I swear..."

"It's ok; I'm sorry, it was my fault, I moved... in the least appropriate moment." you admit, feeling yourself blush as well; you have never felt so embarrassed, and so naked, in your life, not even during your first session with Shanks' class "Zoro, forgive me, I made you... uncomfortable..."

He sighs, unable to look you in the eyes, his face still bright red as he covers it with his hand, standing five paces from you. "No, the fault is mine. Shanks always says an artist should never approach a model without asking for permission, let alone touch them... especially if they are naked."

He lowers his hand, gazing at it as if he could read his future in the lines of the palm; that is the hand he touched you with.

"I shouldn't have asked you to pose nude; I'm sorry."

"I'm perfectly used to it, as you very well know." you insist, desperately trying to ease the tension.

"Yes, at the school; I thought... it would be different now that you're here..."

Silence falls on the room, and between the two of you, for the first time since you met an uncomfortable, somewhat charged silence that you don't quite know how to interpret... as if you were standing over the edge of a precipice.

"I thought... you wanted to practice drawing clothed people, because it was easier..."

"I did." Zoro admits, as he retreats to his chair; he picks up the scabbard of the Wado Ichimonji, his fingers idly fiddling with the strap "At first. To be honest, I have felt ready to shift to nude drawing for a while, but I didn't want..."

"You didn't want...?"

"Oh, hell!" Zoro exclaims, finally turning to look at you; he seems angry, even though not necessarily at you "I didn't want you to think I wanted to look at you naked! I know you trust me because I'm Luffy's friend, and that posing naked is the rule, but I was afraid you would think that I had... designs on you and would take advantage of our drawing sessions to... to..."

He stops mid-sentence, but he doesn't need to continue; he has said enough, more than enough, to make your heart skip a beat - or four.

"... listen, let's just forget it, all right? You can get dresses, I can start over..."

"And you do?"

"... sorry?"

"You have designs on me?" you quietly ask as you slowly change position once more, sit on the sofa and then stand, only partially using your arm to cover your chest "Not that you would take advantage of me, or try to hurt me in any way; I know you are not that sort of man. But... did you ever consider having me naked in your house, while we are alone, could change things between us?"

"I... I..."

"That something might... develop?"

Zoro's face is still burning; he is stuttering, something almost unimaginable for a usually collected, self-assured man, but it is sweet seeing him like this... and you would lie if you said discovering you can have this effect on him is not exciting.

"I would not blame you for it; the heart has rules of its own, like my mother always says, and it's not like I'm the woman of your best friend or your step-sister. Also, I must confess... I would be flattered. And very happy."

A few more moments of silence follow, as you let Zoro fully grasp the meaning of your words, and he seemingly gives you time to recant them or elaborate with limits and conditions - something you have no intention of doing. You have known Zoro for six months; too little to speak of love, perhaps, or to make plans for the future, but more than enough to know that you like and care for him, sincerely and well beyond his undeniable physical beauty. You want to be more than a model for him... and you want him to do more than simply look at you, studing the shape of your hipbone or the position of your elbow.

Much more.

You are so engrossed in each other neither hears the sound of the house door opening. Zoro turns towards you, delicately placing his sword back against his chair's armrest; he is in full control of himself once more, not smiling and still five paces away, but the intensity of his gaze, the barely controlled desire in his brown eyes, makes you feel as if you could already feel his hands (warm, elegant, used to both wield a sword and hold a pencil, capable of being both gentle and strong) brushing against your skin, caressing it, worshipping...

"Are you sure?" he asks in the end, taking a single step towards you "Because I'd really like to..."

"Zoro, are you home?"

The voice coming from the corridor outside the living room is masculine, refined and more mature than that of the young man in front of you; it expressed a simple question, the tone relaxed and devoid of tension, but both of you react as if a known criminal had just threatened to make the house blow up.

"My father." Zoro whispers, suddenly panicking; he looks back at the chair on which his sketchbook and pencils are still placed, close enough to the door anyone coming into the room would see them for sure. And if that someone is Zoro's father, the man who has no idea he is still attending the art school, years after demanding he withdraw, you don't even want to know what could happen... "Oh, God... cover yourself, quick!"

Zoro quickly grabs his night-gown, that he had left on the back of the sofa, and passes it to you; you take it, look at him, need just half a second to assess your priorities, and throw the night-gown on his chair, where it neatly falls covering his drawing tools.

"What...?"

A moment later the door opens. "Zoro, are you here? I just need... oh."

Until today you had only seen Zoro's father in pictures, like the one of the two of them at the fencing school hanging from the living room's wall, and you doubt Zoro had even told him about you, even just as a friend, at least until his father had noticed a trace of your lipstick on a coffee cup; therefore, this is your first meeting and God, you couldn't imagine a worst possible situation... nor, it must be acknowledged, a more memorable one.

Dracule Mihawk is a tall, very attractive man in his forties, with dark hair, a neatly trimmed bear, and beautiful bird-like eyes that earned him the sobriquet he is mostly known under. Zoro, who deeply respects him even though he still sees the older man more like a mentor and a future adversary than a father, told you he is gifted with an almost preternatural self-control, never letting himself be carried away by his emotions and very rarely reacting with joy, surprise or sadness when something unexpected happens.

You should perhaps be proud of yourself, then, since your presence in his house, and especially your state of undress, leaves the strongest swordsman in the world completely speechless.

"Zoro... what is happening?" he asks in the end, turning to look at his son "Who is this girl? Why is she... oh." he adds after a moment, averting his eyes "I see I'm interrupting."

Zoro quickly steps in front of you, who are staring at your feet as you desperately try to cover your most intimate parts with your hands. "She... she is my friend (name)."

"I see. I'll leave the you alone, I just needed to take some papers. I... apologize for disturbing you."

He nods at Zoro and then at you (who force yourself to reciprocate, fully aware that you must be red as a beetroot), turns, not noticing or perhaps not pay attention to the night-gown on the chair, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

For a whole minute both you and Zoro remain still as statues - or as models posing. "Do you think he suspected something?" you finally ask in a whisper, fearing your quick thinking was not enough to keep Mihawk in the dark. On the other hand, findinga naked girl in his home is technically not something the tutor of a young man should feel suspicious about...

"I... don't think so." Zoro answers slowly as he turns towards you; he is close enough you can feel the warmth of his body on yours, so close you could kiss him without having to move... "You... covered my drawing things instead of yourself."

"I did. Believe me, that was the most embarrassing moment of my life, but... I know how important it is for you to keep attending the art school, and that you don't want to disappoint your father, so I thought..."

Zoro grins as he takes your head in his hands; the purest affection shines in his brown eyes. He kisses you on the forehead and "I just want to make sure everything's all right." he quickly explains "He wouldn't take it out on you, he's not that sort of man, just... give me a minute, ok?"

"Of course. Can I take your night-gown if I hide...?"

"No."

You smile. "All right." you answer, and Zoro winks at you before following Mihawk out of the room. A couple of minutes, and pressing your ear against the door allows you to listen to the conversation between father and son.

"If you wanted to have the house to yourself for an evening you could have told me, Zoro. You're an adult, I would have had nothing against it."

"I know, just... I didn't really expect it to happen. And you're usually not at home at this hour."

"As I said, I had forgotten a few documents I had to look over with my new client. She's the girl you told me about, the one of the lipstick? Is she your girlfriend or...?"

A few moments pass before Zoro's answer; suddenly, you wonder whether he suspects you are listening. "Not yet; but I was planning on asking her tonight."

"Good. I don't mind if she stays the night, but if she doesn't, make sure your friend gets home safely."

Zoro promises he will. A minute later, the house door opens and closes, and soon after, Zoro returns to you, looking relieved but somewhat gloomy.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, just..." Zoro smiles as he takes you in, still completely naked, clearly appreciating the view way beyond simply as a good subject for a portrait, but a moment later he sighs "I... don't like lying to him. I know he never wanted children, but he took good care of me for years; he deserves better."

"You're old enough to decide how to live your life, Zoro. I know your father is a swordsman, and I don't doubt he only wants what's best for you, but what's so wrong with liking to draw?"

Zoro tells you that for people like him and Mihawk, the sword is much more than a hobby or an interest, no matter how passionately one practices it - it is a call, a way of life, a purpose one has to focus all their energies and willpower on, and that leaves no space for anything else. "Truth to be told, the sword is my real passion; as much as I like drawing, that's what I have decided to dedicate my life to, the thing I would choose if I had to pick one. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"My parents could draw. They were illustrators, for books and advertising and other things; they taught me, and then since I liked it, they sent me to the school. I know I'm not as good an artist as I am a swordsman, probably not good enough to earn my living with that, but I do like it, and... and drawing makes me feel close to them. You know, as if they were still with me."

Zoro looks at you, vaguely apologetic as if he felt guilty for ruining the intimate moment you were about to share with his sad musings. You don't mind; if anything, you have discovered a new part of him, the insecure, uncertain heart of a young man torn between his dreams and obligations, between the devotion to his birth parents and the loyalty to the man who has taken care of him. A part of him Zoro probably does his best to keep hidden, because he is that sort of man, but that you have discovered, and you can't help loving it.

"What are you smiling about?" Zoro wonders as he rests his hands on your naked hips, his touch relatively chaste but possessive enough to make you shiver pleasantly.

"I was just thinking how happy I am Luffy convinced me to come pose at the school." you muse "I found a new job I really enjoy, some great new friends, and..."

"... and you met me? Is this what you were going to say?"

"Hmm, perhaps..."

You laugh; Zoro laughs with you. "I'd really like to kiss you now." he murmurs in the end; in the well-lit room, you can see he has blushed, just a little "If that's all right for you, that is."

"Of course it is."

Zoro's lips are hot against yours. You waste no time before kissing him back, messy and awkward at first, but soon your mouths learn to know each other, they find a rhythm to follow and pursue together, a wild, unrestrained dance that you feel already addicted to a minute later, and soon your tongue finds Zoro's in his mouth, and his moan of pleasure reverberates through your body.

"(name)... fuck..."

His hands are still grasping at your hips, his whole body tense; he's still restraining himself, not wanting to take more than you are willing to give, but the time for qualms is over, and you want Zoro to know that while this is not how you expected your relationship to begin, you don't regret it, far from it, and you have never desired anything and anyone like him, and his hands on your skin.

"Touch me, Zoro." you whisper, your lips still pressed against his "Please, I need you to touch me..."

He moans again, fierce and avid and hungry, as he takes your face in his hands and then lets an arm snake around your waist, pressing your body flush against his; Zoro is still clothed, but you can feel the effect your nudity has had on him through the fabric of his jeans. You roll your hips against his erection, just as his free hand descends to squeeze your ass, and you both whimper.

"Let's go to my room." he proposes in a whisper, and you eagerly nod. Zoro quickly retrieves his swords, while you hold his sketchbook and pencils against your chest, then offers you his free hand, and you let him guide you towards the corridor.

"In here."

The room is large but sparsely furnished, which you expected; the bed is the sort with the mattress, covered by a duvet, directly placed on the floor. "Nice." you comment as Zoro, whose hands are shaking slightly, retrieves the suitcase, to hide his drawing tools, from the closet. He turns, and grins - no, he smiles at you.

"I changed the bedding this morning."

"Which has nothing to do with the fact you wanted to ask me to pose naked, I'm sure..."

He doesn't deny it, but he laughs - an unexpected, happy sound that fills your heart with tenderness, and the desire to hear it again. Zoro places his swords next to the bed, to be grabbed at a moment's notice; you want to ask him whether he expects an assault during the night, but a moment later Zoro has started undressing, and it would be physically impossible for you to focus on anything else.

As you expected, he has the body of an athlete, without an ounce of fat, well-muscled shoulders and arms, a flat stomach... and a large scar marring his chest, clearly old but still evident enough to make you pause.

"Oh, God... who did this to you?" you murmur, your fingers brushing against the edge of the wound as you try to imagine how painful it must have been "Was it... during a competition...?"

"Not exactly. It was my father."

"What?! Zoro, he could have killed you!" you cry, appalled; he doesn't deny it, but looks distinctly blasé about it, as he explains he had officially challenged Mihawk, foolishly thinking he had even just a single chance of winning, and his teacher had to show him how tremendously wrong he had been.

"That seems... cruel... I mean, towards any students, and especially his own son..."

Zoro shrugs, as if he really didn't care, or perhaps challenges and duels between swordsmen followed rules you cannot understand. "I'm not saying it was pleasant; but it taught me a lot, and from that day, I have promised myself I would never be defeated again."

"Well, if you're happy..."

Zoro takes your hands in his. For a moment all you can do is look at each other, and while you are the one who had never seen the other naked before, you can see awe, and desire, in the brown eyes of the man who has seen you unclothed a hundred times already. He kisses you once more before accompanying you down on the bed, and from there your hands start moving, hungrily searching, caressing, stimulating, and a sensual symphony of moans fills the air. His lips close around your nipple, and you instantly forget how to breathe; your heart is pounding, a fire burning down in your belly, and you have no words to describe how much you want him, which means that you'll have to show him...

Zoro's erection is beautiful, heavy and proudly erect, soft green hair descending from his navel in a thin strip and surrounding the base; you look at him in the eyes as you play with it, your hand moving up and down around the thick column. Zoro sighs, a lazy and happy smile on his lips, as he bucks his hips. "Oh, God, (name)..."

"You like this?"

"I love this... oh, this is even better than I had imagined..."

He has to ask you to stop after a few minutes, and takes your hand in his. "I don't have anything to put on." he confesses, which startles you a bit.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, I... never really needed them." he admits, as he rubs the back of his head, like you have already seen him do when embarrassed "I can... go buy some; there's a pharmacy across the street."

You reflect on it for a moment. "No; if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay." you answer in the end as you turn on one side, scooting even closer to him "We can... cuddle, that'd be nice as well."

Your idea is approved. In the next two hours you do much more than simply cuddle, exploring each other's body and exchanging your pleasure; you talk a lot, play, joke, and simply enjoy that intimacy and closeness you both want to experience together. Part of you is deeply disappointed you didn't get to have sex with Zoro, especially given you are almost embarrassingly wet and the touch of his hands is addictive, especially when you see his fingers disappear between your legs, but the evening is lovely all the same, your body and Zoro's locked in an embrace. You didn't revise for your imminent exam like you had planned, but given what you have spent the last two hours doing, you feel physically unable to care.

"I really like you, you know." he whispers in the end; he has found a pizza in the kitchen's freezer and now you're eating together on the bed, still naked like the day you were born, and it may be the company, but you feel as if you had never had a better meal. After all, you did tell him he could buy you a pizza as payment for your posing sessions... "Not just because I think you are beautiful."

There is a spot of tomato sauce on his lip; you smile as you clean it with your thumb. "You do?"

"Of course. And I think you're kind, and generous, and you care about your friends, and... what I'm trying to say..." he sighs, and then mumbles something unintelligible, but you don't mind, because you are confident you know already what he wants, because you heard him talk about it with his father, and you want it as well.

"I'd like that." you answer as you place the empty pizza plate on the floor next to the table and then lay next to him once more; it's not exactly the grand declaration of love you had hoped to receive sooner or later, but it is very Zoro, and because of this it is perfect "I'd like that very much."

"Are you sure?"

"Zoro, I don't know what else I could do to show you I like you as well. Now, I can't stay the night because I have class early tomorrow. What about we cuddle some more before I have to go back?"

Zoro happily takes you in his arms, smiling as you rest your cheek against his shoulder. "You know, a lot of artists are jealous of their models." he mentions, his fingers delicately playing with your hair "So I hope you won't let anyone else draw you, at least like this... and that you'll pose for me again."

"You don't have to worry." you whisper back as you turn in his arms; his hips press against yours, making you shiver pleasantly "I'll be your model, and only yours, as long as you want me to."

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Roronoa Zoro #Roronoa Zoro x reader #Mackenyu #Bellona's stuff

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havecourage-darling · 2 years

Text

Firsts: The First Conversation

AO3 link || Part 8 of 12 (each chapter is a standalone)

<< The First Argument || Masterlist || Meeting The Family >>

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader

wc: ~4.1K

warnings: none it's all fluuuff

A/N: Hi! So, just because a few people have asked -- this will probably be my last firsts post before Volume II drops. Whatever ends up being canon, I’m sticking to this timeline in firsts lol (@marvel, catch me ignoring most canon there, infinity war who?) I might get to a request before Friday but, not super sure yet! Thank you, thank you for your lovely comments!

See you guys on the flip side!

Dipping the wooden spoon into the pot on the far left, you brought it to your mouth and nodded to yourself. It only needed a little more salt. The timer at the top of the shelf buzzed, indicating that the cookies in the oven were done. With practiced hands, you slipped on a pair of oven mitts and pulled the tray out. Flicking the fire lower, you paused to twirl at the chorus of the familiar melody coming from the radio a few steps away.

The loud buzzing sound of your doorbell echoed throughout your apartment and you blinked. Glancing at the clock above your small table, you couldn’t think of who’d be passing by. The door buzzed again and you grumbled.

“I’m coming!” You shouted, using the dish towel to wipe the remnants of food off your hands. Padding over to the door and stretching up to check through the peephole, you laughed.

“Did you lose your keys again?” You asked, barely keeping down your teasing grin.

Eddie stood at your door, a large bouquet of lilies in hand and an equally big grin to match. “I’m here to pick up my fiancé have you seen her?”

“Yeah, sorry, you just missed her. She ran out screaming when she saw the pile of laundry you forgot to do this morning,” you said, leaning your hip against the doorframe. Eddie’s eyes glinted and you reached for the offered flowers. “Are these a sorry for the laundry? Because if so, you owe me like five of them.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “I told you this morning I’d do it tonight but you don’t remember because you were blissfully half-conscious. Some of us had early shifts today,” he said, walking in. Watching him as he puttered around, he shoved his boots off by the door, placed his coat next to yours, and finally tossed his socks onto the growing pile of laundry – that you were both ignoring in the hallway. “Besides, it’s your fault I hardly got any sleep.”

Mock outraged, you whirled around, vase in hand. “How is it my fault?”

His brow rose and the corner of his mouth rose into a smug little smile. “You know what you’re doing to me when you wear that black thing to bed,” he said, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning onto it. “You know I can’t resist you. In anything you wear really. So, it’s actually always your fault. In fact, if you want…”

You knew he was joking but there was some truth in it. In your defense, he’d been travelling for gigs the two weeks prior. You always felt a little insatiable the week of his return.

“What are the flowers for?” You asked, ignoring his triumphant look.

“I saw them on my lunch break,” he said, “they reminded me of you.”

You glanced over at him and saw his earnest expression. Something soft in your chest yawned awake and your heart tripped over itself at the sight. “Eddie…they’re beautiful, thank you.” You leaned over to kiss him. “Dinner is almost done, are you hungry?”

“It smells amazing,” he said, setting the table as you put the flowers in water. “I’m still going to beat you tomorrow.”

You and Eddie alternated on who cooked dinner, both of you getting strangely competitive on who could impress the other more.

“Aw, it’s nice to have dreams and aspirations,” you teased, laughing when he shot you a disgruntled look.

Grabbing two forks, you settled into the seat across from him and groaned when you sat. Eddie’s eyes raked over you suspiciously. “What’s wrong?”

“My stupid ankles,” you said, rolling the aching joints, and Eddie sighed. Reaching for them, he placed them onto his lap and rubbed the delicate skin softly. “I tripped too many times running from monsters in the night.”

“You need to get that looked at,” he said sternly, eyes lighting up at your joke anyway.

You snorted. As if you had time for that. Eddie’s band had new concert dates you needed to help organize, you had a big gallery coming up in California that you’d need to travel to – Steve’s graduation was soon. “I will, eventually, we’re busy,” you stressed, digging into your plate. “Oh, Munson, you’re going to have a hard time topping that.”

With an eye roll, he took a bite and you saw the pleasure flash across his expression before he managed to school it into a neutral one. “It’s alright,” he joked, squeezing one of your ankles to keep you from kicking him. “Okay, it’s great. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Hiding your triumphant grin behind your sip of water, Eddie pinched your calf. You jolted, glaring at him. “Don’t be a sore loser,” you said, sticking out your tongue.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he mimicked you, flicking a crumb your way.

Ignoring him, you took an exaggerated bite. “So, I was talking to Steve today,” you said, pushing a vegetable over to his plate.

“What’s Harrington up to?” Eddie asked.

“He said he’d come by next weekend with that record he found for you,” you smiled, “said that he didn’t want to be anywhere near us this week.”

Eddie laughed, eyes coming up to yours knowingly. “Gareth said the same thing,” he placed a piece of bread onto your plate, “apparently we’re still insufferable after all these years.”

“Five years, huh?” You said, chewing thoughtfully. “Did you think we’d make it this far?”

“Yes,” he said, without any hesitation and taking another bite. Grinning, you shook your head at him. “What? I did. I knew it from the first time we met.”

“We met in elementary school,” you reminded him.

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, but that’s because everyone in Hawkins went to the same elementary school. We didn’t know each other until high school.”

“The Halloween dance?” You furrowed your brows.

“I mean, technically we had spoken before that,” Eddie said. “The first time was on the football field outside, sophomore year.”

Sophomore year? Wait, wasn’t the first time you both had a real conversation as freshman? Ecstatic that you had something over him, you brought a hand up to clutch at your imaginary pearls and gaped at him. “Oh my God, you don’t remember when we really spoke for the first time.” Over the years you’d come to realize how fun it was to be over the top dramatic with Eddie. Perfect for moments of gloating.

Narrowing his eyes at you, Eddie shook his head. “This is going to be really embarrassing for you, princess,” he said, eyes glinting.

Fuck, did you love this dumbass and his smug little smiles.

“Oh really?” You said, leaning your chin onto your palm. “Please, by all means, tell me.”

Eddie grimaced as the scrape across his hand bled sluggishly. He flexed his fingers, watching the skin stretch as he did. It was his fault for not looking – he’d tripped running outside and managed to catch himself on the wall. The brick had torn his palms but he’d barely noticed at the time.

He was hiding from Jason Carver’s posse. There was no shame in running and he’d escaped their clutches when they tried to corner him twenty minutes ago. He was sure they’d give up and go home since they weren’t going to find him here. Lucky for him, he always parked his bike in the back. Soon, when he got his permit, Wayne would let him get a car.

Caught up in his thoughts, leaning against the bleachers behind the fence on the football field, Eddie felt his soul leave his body at the sound of footsteps.

“Eddie Munson?” A voice timidly called out.

Who the hell was that? Eddie frowned. That voice was definitely too high for it to be a jock’s.

A wide-eyed looking girl popped out from behind the next section of seating and waved, unsure.

“Yeah? Who’s asking?” He asked.

He knew you, where did he know you from? He recognized you quickly enough to know you’d probably gone to school together but there was something else. Narrowing his eyes, it hit him a moment later. He’d seen you around with that Harrington guy – another sophomore who’d gotten welcomed into the popular crowd with open arms. Basketball players.

“Henderson?” He guessed, not entirely sure.

A pleased look erupted on your face and you nodded. “Steve told me he saw you coming in this direction?”

Eddie froze. Shit. If he’d been seen by that baby jock asshole in the making the others would follow soon enough.

“Did you need something from me?” He asked, impatient.

“Yeah.” Darting your eyes around the open field nervously, Eddie had to fight a laugh. You looked completely out of your element.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” He teased, shaking his hair from his eyes.

Eddie watched your eyes light up, the spark in them completely transforming your face. “If you give me a second,” you huffed, hand disappearing into your backpack. Eddie’s eyes stayed on you; curiosity peaked. What did a popular wannabe want with him?

“Sorry,” you said, sheepishly when you seemed not to be able to find what you were looking for. Dumping your bag onto the grass, you pulled several things out and Eddie felt his jaw drop.

“Is that a D20 die?” He asked, taking a step forward.

You stilled, hand still in your bag. “A what?” You asked, looking confused. Glancing around the ground at your belongings, you pointed to the pair of dice lying on top of a notebook. “This?”

Eddie nodded.

“No, well yes, I think,” you said, smiling lightly, “that’s my brother’s. His name is Dustin – him and his best friends love that game. He left his dice at Nancy’s and she gave it back to me this morning. It’s his favorite set, I got it for him last Christmas.”

“Do you play?” He asked, intrigued.

“God no,” you laughed and Eddie felt his interest in you tank. “Dustin has tried so many times but I don’t have the mental capacity for it. It’s too much to keep track of. I always end up dying like two seconds into the game.”

Eddie was trying to think of what to say to that when you popped a hand out with a few folded bills. “Found it! Sorry, Steve just shoved it into my bag and I carry a bunch of stuff.”

Suddenly it all made sense. You wanted to buy from him.

“Holy shit, I was thinking the world had upended itself,” Eddie laughed, reaching into his own bag. “I thought I was losing it there for a second.”

“What? Why?” You asked, zippering your bag up.

Eddie snorted, tossing you a bag. “Why anyone in Harrington’s circle would deign to talk to me,” he said, laughing.

You clearly didn’t – find it funny that is. Eddie watched your brows furrow and your arms cross. “I’ve never even spoken to you before, why would you think that?”

“Everyone’s judging me without really knowing me, why wouldn’t I do the same?” Eddie snorted, counting the bills. “Here, I can give you a discount for the trouble.”

Surprising him again, you shook your head. “Harrington has enough money, keep it,” you said and then did something that shocked him. You smiled. It felt like someone had kicked Eddie in the shin, knocking him off balance. Huh. You had a nice smile.

“Well, if you insist,” he said, pocketing the money quickly. The sounds of footsteps had Eddie pulling you to the ground, ducking behind the cover of the bleachers.

“Who are you hiding from?” You whispered, head popping out next to him.

“The basketball team,” he snorted.

You frowned. “Why? What did you do?”

Eddie whirled to stare at you. “Right, because I had to have been the one to invoke their anger,” he sneered.

Surprising him a third time, instead of recoiling like he thought you would, you rolled your eyes. “Oh, get off your high horse,” you huffed, “I know most of them are assholes but you had have pissed them off. I saw Carver and Smith walk past me like twenty minutes ago with deflated basketballs.”

“Okay, so I accidentally popped their stupid balls,” Eddie said, huffing a laugh at the double meaning. What? It was funny.

“How did you even – you know what, I don’t want to know.” You sighed. “Did you need a ride?”

Eddie almost snapped his neck from the speed in which he turned to you. Were you joking? Was this a trap to deliver him to them?

“You have a car?”

“Not yet,” you said, “I’m like another three months away from having enough. My mom said I can have my dad’s car but…I wanted something else.”

“So, a ride from who?”

“Steve,” you said, tone flippant.

Eddie laughed so hard he almost choked. “Yeah, okay. Me getting a ride from Harrington. That’s a good one Henderson.”

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t hide out here all afternoon.”

“Of course, I can,” he said, getting comfortable. “Now go on, we have a deal well struck.”

“Alright,” you sighed, standing and dusting grass off your legs. Eddie let his eyes stray to the curve of your hips and down your legs for a second before darting away. “Don’t say I never offered.”

“Tell Harrington if he wants to send you for all our future deals I wouldn’t object,” he teased, eyes lingering on yours for a second too long.

You turned around, hair shining in the sun and grinned at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You said, eyes twinkling, before disappearing through the parking lot.

Well, that was interesting.

“I actually did forget about that,” you admitted, smiling at the memory. “I thought you were staring at my ass.”

“Aha! So, I am right,” he said, stupidly handsome smug smile growing, “and of course I wasn’t. I was staring at your legs.”

You snorted and crossed your arms. “Not even close.”

“What? You just said-”

“Freshman year,” you spoke over him.

“What?” He cried out.

“Drama classroom, afterschool. You were looking for a place to hold Hellfire Club and I was there helping organize the next meeting for the Drama Club. I was crying…” you watched as Eddie’s indignant expression morphed into something resembling a wince.

He threw up his hands and shook his head. “In my defense-”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You angrily wiped the tears from your face. Sinking down to the nearest chair, you pressed your forehead against the cool desk.

The classroom was quiet. The whole school was quiet. Only a handful of teachers stayed past afterschool and you knew that no one would come into the drama room. All of the club members went out for milkshakes after practice.

It was only because of that fact, that you let yourself start to cry earnestly. Your sobs echoed pathetically in the silence. Your breath came too quick, getting stuck in your throat, and making your chest heave with an ugly sound.

Steve and Nancy knew that it was your birthday soon. They were both badgering you for what you wanted to do but you’d insisted on just going to the movies. They were your friends – and you’d made new friends in the Drama and English clubs, you just wanted to spend time with them.

Tommy, the younger brother of the captain of the basketball team, heard you and cornered you after Steve had left. He’d shoved you into the locker, tripping you so that you slammed your temple into the door on the way down.

“We’re on our way to the top, Henderson, you’re just a stupid nerd who’s dragging him down. What a fucking loser. Who would want you around?”

His laughter bounced in your head, burrowing deeper and deeper until it had found a permanent home.

“Harrington will wake up one day and realize you’re just a fucking poser. A charity case. A crybaby with a dead dad.”

The words had hurt, because no matter how quickly you jabbed back at them – no matter how high you titled your nose up at him - his words always managed to pierce through. You hated how they managed to plant a seed of self-doubt. The fact that you gave them that power. But…a part of you wondered also – why was Steve still hanging around you?

Because he’s your friend! Your mind supplied. He has been since you were toddlers.

Yeah, but was that enough?

“Oh, shit, sorry I didn’t realize someone was in here,” a voice said, startling you. Straightening, you didn’t try to hide your tears. You took after your mother – whenever either of you cried, your entire face puffed up and there was no hiding it.

“Drama Club finished twenty minutes ago,” you said, through your tears.

The boy, you realized, with wide brown eyes and short shaggy hair shook his head. “Oh I – uh, wasn’t looking for the Drama Club. Or well, I was looking for Mrs. Collins.”

“Oh. She left.”

“Right, yeah, I see that uh – I was looking to start a club and we need somewhere to practice,” he rambled, eyes widening with every sniffle, “and my science teacher said the Drama room was empty after four…”

“It usually is,” you said, blurry vision glancing around the empty room.

“Yeah, I see that, um…I don’t know if you know this but you have a pretty bad shiner on your forehead,” he said, stepping closer to you.

Fingers automatically went up to the small bump that had formed after Tommy had tripped you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hands clasped in front of him. “Uh, I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Oh. Hi, I’m-” your voice cracked and your face crumpled.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” Eddie said, voice panicked.

“I’m s-sorry,” you stumbled over your words, turning your back to him. How fucking mortifying. Not only did you not stand up for yourself, you couldn’t even cry about it alone.

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” his voice went soft, “did someone…do this to you?”

“I tripped,” you said quickly, not wanting to sacrifice anymore of your dignity.

Eddie nodded, coming around your chair and crouching down before you. “I’ve tripped before, usually by the basketball or football team,” he added softly, “so trust me, I get it.”

Saying nothing, you bit down on your lip and tried to will your tears to stop.

“You don’t have to tell me, I just want you to know that whoever did or said something to make you upset, they’re likely going to end up balding, pathetically alone, and with like, fifty cats. Okay?” Eddie said, ducking to catch your gaze. “You look smart, you’ll probably end up like president or something. I’d vote for you.”

You laughed wetly, your eyes meeting his.

“There you go!”

Shivering, you shot him a small smile and pointed to the desk at the far back. “If you leave her a note, she’ll read it in the morning when she comes in.”

“Who?” Eddie said, looking around.

“Mrs. Collins,” you laughed quietly at his confusion.

“Oh, right, duh,” Eddie said. You started to gather your books, making sure everything was put away when you felt a warm, soft sweater drop onto your shoulders. Eddie’s black t-shirt was thin, his arms bare, and you shook your head.

“It’s okay-”

“I’ve got my jacket in my locker,” Eddie insisted. “You can leave it on Mrs. Collins’ desk and I’ll pick it up tomorrow after school. You look like you need it.”

You burrowed into Eddie’s sweater, his scent calming you. His arms were hovering awkwardly but you didn’t care. He wasn’t judging you and you were cold.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

His responding smile warmed you from the inside out. “Don’t worry about it.”

If he minded that you ended up keeping the sweater for an extra week before returning it, he’d never said anything.

“I can’t believe I totally forgot that. I thought you were so cute and I was kicking myself for not asking for your name.” Eddie smiled at the memory, shaking his head. “That poor sucker didn’t know what was coming for him.”

“Creatures that go bump in the night, murder charges, and a music career?”

“No, well, yes,” Eddie relented, “I meant, meeting the love of his life.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “that girl you met junior year at the Hideout? She sounded lovely. Sara? Beth?”

Eddie’s fingers pinched your leg and you squeaked. “Smartass,” he said, laughing.

“What I am, is right,” you reminded him, “we were, what? Fifteen? God, Tommy was such a shithead.”

“You know, it’s rude to always be right all the time,” Eddie said, huffing. “I don’t know how I didn’t remember you at the football field. You’d cut your hair but – I should’ve remembered you.”

“We both had a lot going on in those early days – actually, all of high school was kind of a chaotic mess,” you said, laughing. “I don’t know why you still question me. I’ve got a steel trap memory.”

Eddie snorted. “Says the woman who forgot our four-year anniversary.”

“It was a stressful time for me!” You said, defensively. He’d really never let you live that down.

“I was on tour and I still remembered,” Eddie said.

“Alright, climb down from your morally high ground, it was one time,” you huffed, waving a hand in the air.

Eddie laughed softly, reaching across the table and took your left hand in his. You watched as his thumb caressed your knuckles softly, his finger coming to a stop at the diamond ring that had been a recent addition. It was a family heirloom, one of the last things Wayne had of his grandmother. You’d almost insisted that he keep it for himself but he and Eddie had looked so emotional at the sight of it on your hand that you couldn’t help it. It looked like it belonged on you from the moment he slid it onto your finger.

“Technically, our anniversary isn’t until tomorrow,” Eddie said, “but I want to give you your gift tonight.”

“If you say something sexual, I’m going kick you-”

Eddie burst out into laughter and shook his head. “Is your mind always in the gutter? I swear people really don’t believe me when I tell them I have to beat you off with a stick.”

“Oh, poor you, your girlfriend wants to have sex with you all the time,” you teased, “I’m glad to give you break if that’s what you’d like.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Try me,” you said.

You both stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. With practiced movement, you immediately jumped to your feet, shrieking when he lunged for you. Laughing, you ran circles around the living room before darting down the hall. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and you both slammed into your bedroom door.

His eyes were sparkling, his breath fast from running, and his hand came up to cradle your cheek. “I’m always going to catch you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I let you,” you whispered, smiling at his eyeroll.

Eddie shook his head, reaching behind you to turn the doorknob. “Oh look, our bed is right there.”

Biting your cheek to keep from smiling, you shrugged. “What a coincidence.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed, lips coming to your neck. “Would you look at that.”

“And you had the audacity to point the finger at me,” you said, hips twitching when his thigh came up between your legs. “I have to beat you off with a stick, my ass.”

“You know I can’t resist you,” he said, voice deepening, as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your neck.

Before you could sarcastically quip anything, you both lost your footing and tumbled towards the ground. Groaning, you felt your hip throb at the impact. “Clearly, we’re both still just as smooth,” you said, laughing. Eddie joined you, both of you shaking with a hysterical type of laughter that only spurred the other on more.

“I’m going to pee,” you warned him, wiping tears off your face.

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to stand but tripping on the rug and landing on the bed face first.

“Oh my God,” you giggled, throwing your elbow across your face, “we’re hopeless.”

Eddie’s head popped from the bed, hair disarrayed, and a wide grin on his face. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smiled, laughter still bouncing around in your chest, love for him bursting from every nerve in your body – like always.

“Me neither.”

A/N: also! I've been asked a few times -- I will be writing something covering S4 with this Eddie and this reader! I'm also taking requests (tentatively) if anyone has any!

#eddie munson x reader

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rockethorse · 5 months

Text

Get to know you: Sims Style

I was tagged by @goatskickin

Yippee! Talking about myself!!

Q: What’s your favorite Sims death?

Probably running with scissors. It's really just dying of fright (like when a ghost gets ya) but it was such an easy way to cheese the "defeat Death"/"be rescued from Death" Knowledge Sim Wants. Electrocution also feels kind of rare to me, though I'm sure it's far less rare than other deaths, and the yellow ghost is radical. Death by flies is also a classic.

Q: Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

I think I'm known as a Maxis Matchhead, and I do love MM, but it's not because I dislike realistic CC. I actually really like it when it's well-done and I respect realistic CC makers a bunch. When I first dipped into CC, I played a more semi-realistic game myself. I love how flexible and adaptable every Sims game is depending on what CC you load yourself up with. But, MM always has a special nostalgic place in my heart.

Q: Do you cheat your sims weight?

Only when I'm making a Sim to be a Townie or NPC or some other sort of character. If I'm doing regular gameplay, I won't use cheats, but I might put a Sim on an enforced pizza-and-cookies diet if I feel like my neighbourhood is severely lacking in minuscule body diversity.

Q: Do you move objects?

I literally can't play without it any more, lol. I'm always stunned when I pop in to a lot to "just quickly make a minor edit" and realise how soon I need to turn moveobjects on.

Q: Favorite Mod?

Hands-down, it's Shiftable Everything. It completely changed the way I decorate since not only is it less tedious than fiddling around with OMSPs but it allows lots to stay CC-Free and thus more easily shareable. I adore that mod lol, and buyable accessories + Nopke's walk-under spiral stairs mods for the same reason.

I also really like Phaenoh's holiday calendar (which I consider to be a mod, even though it's purely flavourtext and doesn't affect gameplay) and the version I use with modified holidays. It gives me mini goals to keep my gameplay exciting and I haven't taken it out of my game since I found it.

And lastly, it's not an exaggeration to say Meduza's mod to make hobby blogging increase social as well as fun made my week when it was shared. It may not be the most game-changing mod in the world, but it scratched an itch I had been holding in for DECADES.

Q: First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

I strongly remember my first - and, for a while, only - TS1 expansion pack was Superstar, and I hardly learned how to properly use a lick of it. I was young and TS1 was ridiculously hard for a sandbox game. But sooo many of that game's objects and functions and songs are instant nostalgia bait for me because of it, moreso than TS1 already is. (Also, like many it seems, I was never allowed to get Hot Date, LOL. I remember my mother promising I could get it when I turned 13 and then chickening out of that promise when the time came.)

I played without any TS2 EPs for an unnecessarily long time. A friend at school who also played TS2 mentioned something about Lifetime Aspirations and I had no idea what they meant, which was highly confusing to the both of us. I think my first Sims 2 EP was possibly University...? I remember the first time I got the "your teen can go to uni!" message I panicked and thought it meant right now, so I sent my poor Sim off to Young Adulthoot on, like, day 2 of teendom. The guy never got to let loose! Nowadays I don't let move my Sims off to college until they're on their final day of teendom anyway.

Q: Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

I always and still do pronounce it in my head as liv(ing). On the one hand, (a)live mode - as in, the game is no longer in stasis, and time has resumed - makes more sense and is probably what the devs intended. But in my defense, build and buy are both verbs, so to me, it makes sense that "live mode" is where you go after building and buying to live in the house that you just set up.

Q: Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

Most of my favourite Sims tend to be born-in-game, so not really ones that I've "made"... I do like the townies I've made with the semi-randomised method, though. It was always hard not to keep them to play with myself, but so far none of them have had great chemistry with my Sims to become playables, LOL. I'm gonna have to say Iris Kopper will forever be special to me. (Not that the Koppers are done yet!)

Q: Have you made a simself?

I tend to make a Simself first in every new Sims game I play as a way to test the system, but I usually don't play them. I had a Simself running around in my old TS2 'hood as a Townie, and I let myself wander around unbothered in TS3 until "I" aged up into a hot pink minidress and I had to interfere.

Q: Which is your favorite EA hair color?

I like making MM black hair recolours because they're the easiest and soooo satisfying, but I think my favourite is brown, especially the more complex ones that have purple/blue cool undertones. It's always struck me as such a tasty mahogany treatment that bown hair usually doesn't get.

Q: Favorite EA hair?

Since there are so many to choose from, let's go by age group!

For EYAM Sims, it was hard to pass up the classic Rocker, but i think Caesar is a very classy handsome hairstyle that suits a wide variety of Sims, and it's nice to have been given the option by EA.

I've always really liked this TM hat-hair from TSS and the fact that it came with a matching hatless version too. I like teens having their own styles, I just wish EA had given it to us for TF Sims too.

For EYAF Sims it was a difficult skirmish at first - I've always had a soft spot for the silly pointy-ear hat that came with M&G, and the matching hatless hair it came with, but that's so similar to longpart from BV I also enjoy - but in the end I realised it was clear;

Sweep sweep. It's versatile, it's nicely modeled and textured, it can be sexy or professional, it's as gender as you want it to be, it's TREMENDOUS on Elders, and it reminds me of Sailor Uranus. What's not to love? Other than its lack of age options.

For TF, JUST LOOK AT THAT. How perfectly Y2K! The fact that it reminds me of Minako "PGSM" Aino is just an added bonus.

Combining CU into one tier - look at these. Look at how precious the little doggy face is. Augh.

And finally, for PU, the most perfectly darling hair in the entire game they knew they had to limit to toddlers or else nobody would ever bother to use anything else. No wonder we all immediately converted it for other ages. It's the perfect boho pigtail look. No notes, Maxis. (Wait, it was introduced in Nightlife?? Why? Whose baby is that on the dance floor?)

And an honourable mention for updo, which would be my favourite EYAM hair, if not for the fact it's technically an EYAF hair.

Q: Favorite life stage?

Probably teens, because they were such a fascinating introduction to me when I shifted from TS1 to TS2. Sims aging and passing away intrigued and terrified me all at once, but the unique middle-ground of autonomy vs. immaturity of TS2 teens must've resonated with me. They could have a job, but not a great one. They could date and go steady and make out, and it could be deathly serious to them, but they couldn't cross the line or get married or start a family. They could look after younger Sims and drive and drink (probably illegally) and buy things and run the household if need be, but they were still trapped with limited freedom or opportunities.

I know other games have given teens more agency and there are mods to do the same in TS2, but as a pre-teen who was just playing TS2 for the first time, it was a really perfect encapsulation of the middle-ground between adulthood and childhood and the excitement but frustration it brought.

I also really like Elders for similar reasons. In many ways, they often have more freedom than Adult Sims, but they can also be harder to play in other ways. Plus they get the short end of the stick in terms of content so I gotta cheer for them.

Q: Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

I used to hate building (or at the very least, think I sucked at it) and was 100% dedicated to gameplay. Gameplay is still important to me, which is why I'll probably never move on from TS2, but these days I've really been enjoying building and decorating a lot more. It's also something I enjoy being able to do in TS4. Setting myself limitations like "CC Free" also adds interest to the challenge.

Q: Are you a CC creator?

Yep! Try to be at any rate, lol! It's interesting to see how I used to almost exclusively make build-buy content and now a lot of it is BodyShop CC.

Q: Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

Not on a private/personal scale. I have lots of people I recognise from Simblr who I chat with and reblog from frequently, and I think we have a good rapport, but I'm not around enough to really engage 1:1 with other Simmers like that. But I'm also really happy and proud to be a part of the little TS2 Simblr community and always smile when I recognise the same URLs and new posts popping up.

Q: Do you have any sims merch?

Other than physical copies of the games, not really! I've been meaning to invest in some fan-made merch like a pair of earrings or something. Any recommendations? (I also want that unofficial cookbook so bad.)

Q: Do you have a YouTube for sims?

No, but I keep thinking about it...

Q: How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

I've always been a rotational player, whether it be a specific challenge or not. I think the most interesting change in my style has been my intentional choice to cut CC back as far as possible. It's really pushed me to not only embrace a Mega Maxis Match aesthetic but it's also encouraged me to get more creative with the content already in the games.

Q: Who’s your favorite CC creator?

If I listed out all my favourites I'd be here all day and then I'd forget someone and feel terrible. I'm so lucky to be around at the same time as so many incredible CC creators, builders, storytellers, and modders here on Simblr who still make for TS2, and trust me, if you're here still posting updates for TS2 in the year 202X, I see you and I love you and I'm sending you all the positive energy you could ever use.

As a CC creator, though, I'd say my biggest inspiration is @crispsandkerosene. Their textures, models, animations, and especially their eye for the Maxis Match aesthetic are everything I aspire to some day, especially in their authentic TS1 recreations.

Q: How long have you had Simblr?

Since 2011... wow.

Q: How do you edit your pictures?

With The GIMP mostly just to resize. If it's an important screencap I might edit lighting/saturation for clarity, or mess around for storytelling purposes, but mostly it's just to crop and resize, lol. You guys all have to put up with my game's borked lighting.

Q: What expansion/gamepack is your favorite?

For TS1, I never had Makin Magic, so probably Pets. The animals themselves were fun but I was always transfixed by Old Town and gardening. Vacation is pretty close in my nostalgia, though.

For TS2 it's Bon Voyage. It's just such a jam-packed and well-thought-out EP, and you can tell it was Maxis's final love letter to the Sims franchise before they knew EA would put out their fire. Obviously I love Seasons and OFB as much as the next guy, but I think BV adds a surprising amount of replayability.

For TS3 it's 100% World Adventures. I love those gimmicky little tombs, lol. I always yearned for more life sim/time management elements to other exploration games, but I had never considered adding exploration/puzzle elements to a life sim instead. It's the perfect balance for me, lol; the tombs themselves may not be the most difficult puzzles, but having to manage your Sim's needs, finances, time, etc on top of those puzzles is exactly the kind of gameplay I was waiting for. (Why is the vacation EP basically my favourite for all these games?)

I don't have any TS4 EPs and I doubt I'll ever buy any, simply because I don't play the game enough, only decorate, but the one I'm most tempted by is the Tiny Living pack. I think I like the concept of it more than I like any of the objects it actually comes with, though, and technically I don't need an EP to make a tiny home.

Thanks for letting me ramble so much! For anyone who wants to do this, I add the following new questions:

What's your favourite in-game Sims food/meal?

What's your favourite supernatural life state?

What's your favourite way to grind for each skill?

If you haven't done it already then I tag @sixamese-simblr, @persimmonthusiast, @vegan-kaktus and @tvickiesims!

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divinaoscuridad · 5 months

Text

closed starter for @brknghrts

part of alexei wonders if gabe is even fully aware of what he’s doing to him, if he’s even aware of the fact that he’s had a crush the size of texas on him for the longest time imaginable. he’s positive he doesn’t remember him ( either that, or he’s really good at pretending ), either way, he hasn’t brought up anything, so alexei is sure he has no idea who he is. not that he blames him, though. if he looked the way gabe did, he wouldn’t bother to remember someone he met ages ago, let alone crush on them. he’s been in here everyday for the past week, almost as if he was taunting him. alexei notices he brings a snack each time he comes. one day it’s cookies, another day it’s fruits, another day it’s little powdered sandwiches ( which, after extensive googling, alexei found out they are called alfajores ), the other day it’s fruit again, one day he bought mini tamales, and he seems to alternate between a mixture of sweets and high carb snacks, fruits, and occasionally vegetables, as if he’s trying to maintain his weight and follow a routine of not bringing sweets or foods high in fat every time he comes. smart, but not like he particularly needs it. he doesn’t think he’s seen someone more physically capable in years.

each time, alexei finds himself looking over to him, trying to muster up the courage to start a conversation. they’ve spoken a few times after the first time he saw him in here, but part of him wishes they would speak more. he wants to get to know him. his dreams, his aspirations, his fears, his favorite food, even the bad and the ugly stuff – he wants to know it all, as if hyper fixated on something he’s sure will never happen. a panic attack later last night, and he’s back to blonde again, after weeks of having black hair. as pathetic as it may sound, he actually bothered to make him cookies this morning. he would have to stay up extra late to finish the homework he missed with doing this, but he hopes it will be worth it to see the look on his face. he is so pretty, it’s unfair to alexei. just as he anticipated, he comes in at the same time he does everyday. alexei waits a solid twenty minutes before he finally approaches him, mentally telling himself to act cool. “hi,” he says, tone sweet, accent soft, as usual, “i, um,” that’s not very cool of you, alexei, “i made you… some cookies.” he tells him, bringing out a little box filled with muffin top chocolate chip cookies, soft and warm, made from scratch. “i just… saw you bring a pack sometimes, so…” he sets them down in the table in front of him, “here you go.” he tries, but probably fails, not to marvel at the other. “i hope that’s um, i–i hope that’s okay.”

#alexei rakov : conversations .#c: gabe #feeling secondhand embarrassment for him rn

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staox · 9 months

Text

Welcome to the Show new Towny!

Hello Hello and Howdy-do there Towny! <:o)

[If you happen to know me personally then please do not share or spread my personal information on any internet platforms, such include my address, full name, deadname, age, school, grades, grade level, voice etc. UNLESS you have my consent to it.]

Hello Hello! My name is Vale/Staox! I'm a Transmasc person that goes by he/him/they/them/it/it's/xe/xim/ze/zim!

Welcome to my blog!

I post lots of random stuff here based off my hyperfixations or whatever makes me happy! <:o) I'm in multiple fandoms aswell! I enjoy posting a vast variety of art not from one fandom specifically!!

I am an aspiring poet and an illustrator!! I have dreams that one day I will be known as a famous poet, painter, artist, and sculptor

I'm an artist and a minor so please no uncomfortable things on my page! (Please.. Kindly watch the words you use when commenting))

I'm still growing and developing as an artist!! Everyday I grow and develop into something new!! I hope you can be patient and enjoy as you watch our little art journey!!

Please, kindly, DO NOT INTERACT if you are: A proshipper/comshipper, ableist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, problematic, a toxic neurological, extremely political, a pedophile, rcta, MAP, apart of the "Art lore", etc. etc.

- Again, I'm a minor, so if you are 18 or above please do NOT send me any disgusting or extremely personal DMS

This is a safe space, so please no toxic topics here! Here, I encourage everyone to support their differences cause everyone is human, I will not tolerate in any way any disgusting and heinous words, especially if they degrade or do discriminate others.

This is a Sfw account! however I do not take art requests! (Although I will draw gore from time to time!)

I will NOT post: NSFW, Intimate stuff, anything 18+, and anything else like this

If you force me to make anything like this, I will not be afraid to permanently block you. I understand if you want or request me to do this if you are unaware, but if you are perfectly and openly aware that I am not comfortable with this, plus if you continuously request and ask me to create it after I refuse, do not expect me to be hesitant whilst blocking. Please, respect my bounderies.

My Special Interests/Hyperfixations! :

* Welcome Home

* Dhmis

* Avenue Q

* Bugbo

* Sesame Street

* Cookie run: Kingdom/Ovenbreak

* Omori

* Good Omens

* Nimona

* Captain Underpants

* Tmc/The Mandela Catalogue

* Twf/The Walten Files

* Fnaf

* The Stanley Parable

* Miracle Musical

* Tally Hall

* T.H.I.S (Tally Hall Internet Show)

* Jack Stauber's Opal

* Shop: A Pop Opera

* Ride the Cyclone (RTC)

* Sundy Stairway

* BBirthday

* The Amazing Digital Circus (TADC)

* Town Folks (my own creation! <:o))

* Trolls

Some of my favorite music artists &/or bands! <:o)

These aren't even all of them yet! (tumblr has a 10 image only thingy!!) I will list them down for you! <:o)

- Jack Stauber

- Weezer

- Will Wood/ Will Wood & the Tapeworms

- Tally Hall

- Miracle Musical

- Chonny Jash

- Elliotly

- Jhariah

- Sodikken

- 6arelyhuman

- H3artcrush

- Rebzyyx

- Laufey

- Mitski

- Mother Mother

- Scowl

- Slipknot

- Soupy Garbage Juice

- Lemon Demon/Neil Cicierega

- S3RL

- Korn

- Pleasentries

- Kikuo

- Ruben the Understander

- The Chats

- The Mountain Goats

- Mindless Self Indulgence

- Oingo Boingo

- Rio Romeo

- Marina

- Drive 45

- Lesley Gore

- Temporex

- Bo En

- Bo Burnham

- Xavlegmao

- Queen

- Lorna Shore

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Stay safe my fellow Town Folk! I love you very much! <:o)

#pinned post #introduction #intro post #Town Folks #I feel as if this is very wordy!#Oh I've started rambling again!

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simplysummers · 2 years

Note

What are your favourite Sebastian ships?

My favourite, and most consumed Sebastian ship will always be Kurtbastian, no doubt about that, but if I had to put all of his (common?) ships into a list from favourite to least favourite, this is what it’d look like!

1: Kurtbastian

Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe.

I don’t quite think I can fathom just how much I dearly love these two, both separately and together. The potential they bring to one another for growth, redemption, explanation and development is practically palpable. The chemistry, courtesy of Chris and Grant, in the show is so entertaining to watch, and the direction of their relationship can really take a turn at any point. Do they start off with hate sex? Is it Kurt learning that Sebastian is an actual person with a family, hobbies and aspirations? Is it Sebastian personally reaching out to apologise to Kurt and something blossoming from that? Do they run into one another again in New York? It could be any of these options, alongside many more, and yet they all bring us a beautiful outcome in this pairing. They’re not so cookie cutter, they’re unique and compatible in so many different ways. Their wit and humour is so easy to intertwine that I sometimes forget they aren’t a canon couple. I just absolutely adore them.

2: I need to distinguish how much I love Kurtbas by stating that nothing even compares to them.

Like seriously none of the ships below even remotely compare. That’s how much I adore these two.

3: Warbler Ships.

Sebastian Smythe and Jeff, Nick, Thad, Wes, David and Trent.

These are the type of ships that I’ll read and I have no problems with, I just don’t actively ship them in my own glee universe. I read a beautiful fanfic a few years ago about Thad and Wes helping Sebastian overcome some self infliction habits, as well as a similar one with Nick where they’d write letters to one another. They were lovely and I thoroughly enjoyed them, I just don’t ship any of them religiously like I do with kurtbastian. KB are my endgame, I don’t even see these couples as midgame.

(That being said, I do think Jeff and Sebastian have most likely made out before. Not in a midgame type of way, more of a heated fling, I picture it to be a situation where Nick and jeff were on a break, and the boys kinda just got caught up in the moment while watching movies. It was something they just needed to try and get out of their system, and it’s followed by Jeff realising that Nick’s lips are the only ones he ever wants to kiss, and Seb understanding that maybe the idea of being romantically exclusive to somebody wouldn’t be a bad thing, and it would actually make him feel special. It doesn’t affect their friendship negatively, they’re still best buds, but Nick definitely gives Sebastian some side eyes when Niff are on the mend and he learns what happened.)

I think a good summary of how I feel about these ships is that when I’m reading their fics, I’m reading for Sebastian and Warbler characterisation separately, not Sebastian and Warbler romantically together, but they’re still cute fics!

4: Huntbastian

Hunter Clarington and Sebastian Smythe.

For me Huntbastian is kinda mid tier. I don’t actually like Hunter very much as a character, and I think Seb is far too good for him (I’m also very persistent when it comes to reminding people that the steroids scandal was all Hunter’s doing). However, there are definitely a few fics that I’ve read where this ship is quite cute. I suppose because we don’t know a lot about Hunter, nor do we know if the stuff we do know is even true, I think this ship is completely dependent on how the former is portrayed by each fic writer/artist. They have fanon potential, but I don’t appreciate Hunter enough to delve into that myself, despite the fact I have enjoyed little bits of media between these two every now and again.

That being said, I personally think these two actually have some very dark potential considering the power dynamic established in the show, and you know me, I love putting Sebastian in tough situations.

5/6: Starsmythe and Coopbastian

Elliott ‘Starchild’ Gilbert/Cooper Anderson and Sebastian Smythe.

First of all, idk if Elliott and Seb have a ship name, I just came up with Starsmythe on the spot, but if they don’t I think that should be the new one.

Much like with number three on my list, these are the kinds of ships that I don’t really see together in general, and I don’t see them happening in canon at all (well maybe Starsmythe could’ve if they’d actually met, but they didn’t), they’re just fun for experimenting with stories and ideas, or sometimes they’re a catalyst for other ships (Elliott with Kurtbas and Cooper with Huntbas from what I’ve read). I did read a really sweet KB fic where Sebastian got sick in New York, and Elliott helped Kurt look after him, so although they weren’t romantically involved, I thought it was just so sweet and had potential.

So again for these guys, I read more so for separate characterisation, and to get my Sebastian fix after I devour everything in his tag excluding seblaine, but they have possible fanon potential!

(And personally I’m a sucker for the whole ‘Cooper dates one of Sebastian’s family members’ trope that so many of us use. That never gets old.)

7: Sebklaine

Sebastian Smythe, Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.

(Does it annoy anyone else that in both sebklaine and klaine Kurt is only the K? Like mmm it’s not a vibe.)

I don’t really know what to say about this ship. Do I hate it as much as Seblaine? No I don’t, but do I actively love it or consume it’s media on my own? Also no. The only time I’ll read Sebklaine fics is if the title and/or summary really grab my attention, or it’s primary focused on Kurtbas with only a smidge of Blaine, otherwise I’m not overly interested myself.

I personally don’t think this trio would work very well at all, I actually don’t think Blaine could be in a polyamorous relationship with anybody for that matter. As we see in the show, he’s incredible insecure and very jealous, imagine how he’d behave if he had to share his partner with somebody else? And I’m not putting my Bastian through that :(.

8: Sebofsky:

Sebastian Smythe and Dave Karofsky.

I think Sebofsky is such a neutral ship to me. I don’t dislike it, but I don’t actively ship it either. I’ve read a few fics of this pairing, nothing that particularly stuck out to me, but that’s not to say they were necessarily bad, just not my personal cup of tea. Something I actually would’ve liked to have seen from the show between these two was an apology from Seb to Dave after his attempt, but since we never got to see that I just like to assume it happened off screen. Now had we have seen a scene similar to that, maybe I would feel differently towards this ship, both positively or negatively, but we shall never know.

Not a bad ship, not an amazing ship, just a ship to me!

9: Seblaine:

Sebastian Smythe and Blaine Anderson.

I’ll just let Redditor Bea explain this one

This might be a hot take, and I’m probably going to get shit for it, but I think Sebastian deserves better than Blaine. I think everyone deserves better than Blaine, I do not like Blaine :).

Seblaine’s only redeeming quality, at least in my opinion, is that at least Blaine is a gay male and not a girl, or god forbid a lesbian girl.

10/11: Sebtana and Smytheberry.

Sebastian Smythe and Santana Lopez/Rachel Berry.

I will not touch these two ships with a ten foot pole. I’m all for personal expression, and at the end of the day you can headcanon characters as whatever sexuality you want to, there is nothing we can actually do to stop you, but I personally think there’s a huge difference between hc-ing a straight person as another sexuality, and hc-ing a canon gay character as straight. It’s reductive, you’re taking away their minority, you’re removing with a snap of your fingers the oppression people have been fighting again for years, these characters are iconic for what they represent, Santana especially: canon gays in modern media who aren’t totally defined by their sexuality. And I know some of y’all are looking at this with a side eye because it’s “not that deep”, but it is to me. If Sebastian and Santana had both been canon bisexual in the show, I actually think Sebtana is a ship I could get behind, but they aren’t, and therefore it’ll never be okay with me. They are both gay, a homosexual and a lesbian, so I will never see them romantically involved.

And as for Rachel, the compatibility between them isn’t very strong in my opinion, Rachel would be too much for him, I think it takes a certain type of guy to handle her, especially pre-S4. He’d lose his patience pretty quickly over her behaviour anyway, excluding the fact Sebastian likes men.

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erina-writes-headcanons · 2 years

Note

This will probably end up comedy and/or fluff but may I request Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Semi with a gender-neutral s/o who grew up with their grandma, soaked up all the comforting vibes from her and went, “yanno what? I wanna be like that” and absolutely ran with it? They're all about that comforting vibes and sweetness and nurturing and last but not least fashion. Yeah, they dress like a grandma, if not the full ensemble then at least elements of it. Whenever somebody asks why they just go, “well grandmas are the epitome of what I aspire to be so it makes sense I'm emulating them” 🤣🤣 (glasses chains grandma-style plus one of those Grandma Bags of Holding that contain basically an entire house in it)

Semi Eita, Iwaizumi Hajime, and Oikawa Tooru have a S/O Dressing Up Like Their Grandparents.

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

A/N: I- *Insert tea kettle laugh* Not gonna lie, anon. But you are the first person who asks a funny headcanon like this. S/O Dressing up like their grandma/grandpa???? Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Semi surely going to be really shocked having an S/O dressing up like their grandparents-

Warning: None but probably some profanities at Iwaizumi

P.S: Gender Neutral Reader

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Semi Eita

Semi loves it if he has a S/O that has a comforting and sweet vibe because who doesn't? Everyone in life needs a sweet and comforting partner in their life when they went through hardships.

The way you always stay right beside him when Shiratorizawa lose against Karasuno, the way you made him bento and brought it over after volleyball practice, and the way you comfort him when he down reminds him exactly how comforting his grandparents are and your kindness reminds him of them.

However, he is very surprised...no he is stunned when he is looking at his S/O who are wearing their grandma or their grandpa clothes as he comes to your house.

Especially when he's coming to your house and you already prepared a batch of cookies just for the two of you. You could imagine his face, it was priceless as his eyes widened and his mouth gaped like a fish while looking at you as if you had two heads.

(Y/N)-san....w-what are you wearing? Why are you wearing a knitted sweater/housedress and looking like that?" Semi is seriously confused with your sudden antics because he never sees his s/o wearing a grandparent's kind of clothes in their style of clothing until today.

Semi is torn because he was a little bit amused that you are acting like comforting grandparents but he's also not amused. He doesn't hate it, he's just...uh.....doesn't expect that from you and that's why he's not that amused, he's more confused and curious.

It's not also a bit surprising after he saw one of your interactions with your grandparent. You two are just like a copy-paste of each other even though it's just like you're the younger version of your grandparents.

Noticing this, he would smile a little bit because he knows the two of you have a close relationship. He thinks it was cute that you have a comforting personality like your grandparents but he silently prays for you to stop dressing up like your grandparents.

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Since yesterday, you haven't gone to school as you spend your time together with your grandparents, especially your grandma/grandpa who would always listen to you while you were telling them your story about your boyfriend Semi Eita and school activities. You do have friends or best friends to tell your story but you just prefer your grandpa and grandma over your friends.

The way your grandma/grandpa made a delicious batch of cookies for you to snacking while studying makes you think about your boyfriend Semi Eita, he was such a kind boyfriend. Especially when you need him, he's always there for you even though it ended up he's scolding you to be careful.

A few days ago, the Shiratorizawa school and Karasuno were competing in a volleyball match and Karasuno won against them, which was a big surprise for you because you know Shiratorizawa is a school with a reputation for the strongest volleyball and they have their ultimate ace, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A light bulb appears on top of your head and the corner of your lips twitched a little bit, reaching up to your eyes as a bright idea crosses your mind.

"That's it. I know how to cheer him up!" You walk away from your chair, going to the kitchen.

↠ Time Skip ↞

Walking down the street, Semi's mind still thinks about the recent loss of Shiratorizawa against Karasuno. He was still a bit upset and disbelieving although he knew there was going to be a time when another team is going to snatch the victory away. Closing the book in his hands, the male sighs and shakes his head as he begins walking to your house, planning to hang out with you for a bit to ease his stress.

Reaching out to the front door of your house, Semi began knocking on the door, "(Y/N)? Are you're here? It's me, Semi," he calls your name. After knocking several times, he decides to stop and wait for you 'Strange....she usually would answer right now,' he thought but before he could knock again, the door opened to show (Y/N).

His eyes widened to see (Y/N) in a knitted vest or a housedress and a plate of sushi rolls with tuna filling and a soy sauce with wasabi. "Hey babe, I made you your favourite sushi," you smile innocently which only makes him even more speechless and stunned than before to see his S/O dressing like their grandparents with a plate of his favourite food in their hand.

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Iwaizumi Hajime

He's grateful that he has a comforting S/O since all of Aoba Johsai volleyball members are so damn chaotic. Especially Oikawa, Hanamai and Matsukawa. Having you is just like a huge relief for him, especially since he is the vice-captain of Aoba Johsai.

You always listen to him when he's ranting about how annoying Oikawa can get as you made yourself and him a cup of coffee while listening to him. This is one of the reasons why he found you are comforting, especially when you are affectionate.

You could imagine his surprised face when he saw you dressing up exactly like your grandparents and acting all ost exactly like them just for shit and giggles.

The only difference between him and Semi that if Semi just gaping and staring at you with disbelief. He would react immediately and his loud voice could even waking all of the neighbourhood.

"OI Aho! W-what the hell are you trying to do?! Why are you wearing like how your grandparents do?!" He screamed, and you swore you were laughing your ass off as a result of his reaction from seeing you acting like your grandma and grandpa.

His reaction was even more priceless than Semi. Thus, you teased him just for fun " Well, my grandma or my grandpa is the epitome of comfort and what I aspire to be so it makes sense I'm emulating them," You joke, almost receiving a thrown tissue box from your boyfriend as you ran away cackling like a madman.

He is actually amused that you are dressing like your grandparents. He did have a good laugh from you as you continue acting like your grandparents but he's also wanted to slam his head against the wall, he doesn't expect you to also dress like them and tease them like how your grandparents tease you.

Although he finds it a little bit adorable that you do this because he knows it means you have such a close relationship with your grandparents. They way you two would joke with each other and how comfortable you are with your grandparents, mostly when you introduce him to your grandparents.

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Lately, the volleyball training hasn't gone exactly like he wants and some of his spikes miss, even the coach commented and put him on the bench for all of his mistakes. It made his mood even sourer than before because it's not usually he made a mistake, even if it's only training with another school.

"Iwaizumi-san. I'm sorry but you need to be on the bench for the second round of this match. You can join in the third round after this, you are losing your cool," CoachIrihata commented. Hearing the coach saying that, Iwaizumi couldn't but looking the older man with shock before he nod a long.

"...Hai (Yes), "Iwaizumi walks away.

As a manager of Aoba Johsai, you feel bad to see Iwaizumi to be in bad mood. Even though he didn't show it, it was clear that he feels hurt because of the slight furrow in his eyebrows and the way he bit his own lip while trying not to burst out in anger. Seeing him like this gave you an idea of how to cheer him up.

↠ Time Skip ↞

Once the two of you go back to your home. Iwaizumi straight goes to the couch and lays there, massaging the bridge of his nose and trying to ease the headache. While he was resting on the couch, you went to your grandparent's bedroom and wore the knitted vest plus a scarf.

With your hurried step, you quickly go to the kitchen with an excited smile as you turn on the stove and put a pan that is already filled with water to make a hot chocolate for the two of you. UNknownbeast to you, Iwaizumi hears your footsteps as he lifts his arms away from his face, wondering why you make too much voice inside of the kitchen.

"Oi, (Y/N) What are you doi-" As he walks away from the sofa, the male straight goes to the kitchen to see you dressing up like your grandparents while making a hot chocolate.

His eyes widened to see you dressing up like your grandparents, he didn't expect you would dress like them just to cheer him up. "OI! AHO! WHY ARE YOU DRESSING UP LIKE YOUR GRANDPARENTS?!"

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Oikawa Tooru

I know this man child loves it when you have this kind of way to comfort your boyfriend by making him his favourite food, listening to him, cheering him up and soaking him with comforting words, and being affectionate as hell.

Yes, you are indeed as comforting as your grandparents. Basically, you are close with your grandparents and that's why you have a tendency to be as comforting as them.

Oikawa receiving all that kind of love and comfort from you? He is going to be even more clingy than before. Particularly if you made him a milk bread and have a baking skills exactly like your grandparents.

Unlike Semi who would think you are crazy and Iwaizumi who would shout at you and comment you dressing up like your grandparents.

He is still surprised but that would be gone immediately as he began giggling and thinking how ridiculous you look. He did expect that you can be quite chaotic when you try to make him laugh but he doesn't expect you would dress up like your grandparents.

This manchild is going to joke about how ridiculous you look and he would take a picture of you as you are wearing your grandparent's clothes before he either save it or publish it in his blog just to make fun of you.

At other times, Oikawa would also join you wearing his grandparent's clothes together with you when you have a bad mood just for shit and giggles, also to tease you about how you try to cheer him up by wearing your grandparent's clothes.

It's a repayment for him to cheer you up but the only difference is that he would annoy you on purpose. For example, he would pinch your cheeks just to bother you when you want to be alone and he would run away giggling when you get annoyed by his antics.

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Oikawa is a great actor and you don't mean it literally, he just knows how to hide his pain with his bright smile and his fake laughter while he was around his friends or his fangirls. As Oikawa's S/O, you could tell when he was faking his emotion to hide the pain or when he was being genuine with his emotion.

This already continues, especially after the loss of Aoba Johsai with Shiratorizawa. It was even more obvious because you know he really wants to win the match and goes national but since Shiratorizawa has their ultimate ace, Ushijima Wakatoshi. It was impossible to go national even though he was working hard to be really good at volleyball.

You watch him smiling in front of Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Kindaichi, Kunimi and Iwaizumi but it seems only you and Iwaizumi who notice it was all an act even though Oikawa was smiling in front of his members. Looking at each other, Iwaizumi finally throws a question to you.

"He's still mad with the last match with Shiratorizawa, (Y/N)-san. Do you have any idea how to cheer him up?" Iwaizumi whispers.

"Yeah, I have an idea to cheer him up once we go back. Don't worry about it, I just hope he likes it," You whisper back.

↠ Time Skip ↞

Sitting on the couch, he was looking at the ground with a blank eye. You were glad that he's less fake around you and more honest with his feeling when he's around you but it still worries you to see him still in pain after the match against Shiratorizawa.

Not wanting to see him in pain and mopping around because of the recent loose, you decide to go to your grandparent's room and wore one of their clothes. Not surprisingly, you wore the knitted vest, scarf, glasses and trousers to make yourself look like them. It was a bit silly but you want to make Oikawa laugh.

Going downstairs, you began calling your boyfriend's name "Tooru! I have a surprise for you!" You shout.

His eyes glance up to look at you "Hmm? What is it-"

His eyes widened to see you dressing up like your grandparents. One second turns into a few minutes before his cheeks puffed up like balloons and he bit his own lips. Seeing him trying not to laugh, you began wiggling your eyebrows and that was his last straw before he was laughing out loud.

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little-lucid-dreamer97 · 9 months

Text

~Just Feeding the Birds~ {{P1}}

Death tries to convince her little brother to meet a young witch whom she had met doing what she dose, sure she’d be perfect for him. He refuses, fate has other plans for him. and for her.

(Still working on isn't it Lovely, kind of hit a wall but have been playing with this concept, hope you enjoy this version.)

~Day 1~

They sat together on a bench someplace in Europe. Dream sat detached from the conversation but not wanting to be rude toward his older sister so he endured her endless persistence. “Just meet her” Death went on for the 100th time, she was beginning to give up he could tell. Dream let out a deep aspirated breath and shook his head again. “what harm could it do?, worked out with Gadling didn't it?”. she was beginning to where on his patients. she didn't know what had transpired between he and Hob on their last meeting before his imprisonment, it was not what he would consider ‘working out’. although it was in fact worked out at the moment.

“I do not need, nor do I want, a relationship or a new companion at this time”. he picked idlily at the Baggett in his hands. “I thank you my sister for the thought, but no”. the last thing he needed was such a distraction, he had been gone a century and surely he had other more important things to worry about then taking a lover. he had no idea what woman were like these days and by the sounds of her she was young. letting out a low sigh she stood up. “all right have it your way then”. she said and stretched before turning back to him. “this place is nice, you should come here more often, get some sun and fresh air, its good for you”. he said nothing just nodded in his melancholy way relived she had desisted from the convincing. “I’ve got to get back to work, see you soon little brother”. and with that she was gone and he was alone on the bench, just feeding the birds.

What was so bad about being alone?, what made her think he needed a lover, a woman in his life, after all he had endured enough in the basement of a no good magic user why would he want to attach himself to another. and a woman at that, love has never ended well for him in the past what should change now?. who could this witch woman be for her to think she would be any dif-.

The voice was soft and feminine like a bell and fell upon him like gentle rain taking him by surprise. “excuse me?”. she was average height with long curly red locks that fell around her shoulders in ribbons, her face was full and she was light and angular like a bride. ”may I sit here?, I wont be long I work at the hospital across the street, I’m on lunch”. she pointed to the large gray building across the street from the park, she had a mess of folders in her arms along with a bag. he just stared at her taking in her futures, they were an odd mix for a human woman he though involuntarily. and she was American, she had spoke to him in English. “shoot sorry um-”. she began but he looked away before she could go on, he nodded and slid to the other side.

“oh good you understood me, I keep forgetting I’m not home”. she pulled a sandwich from her bag and took a bite while flipping through papers on her lap. he found the whole endeavor odd to begin and was displeased with the suddenness of her arrival but went back to his thoughts not sparing her another glance. he thought of leaving and returning to the dreaming but the bread was not yet gone and the brides began suddenly flocking to him all at once. his thoughts were again interrupted when a light tap came to his shoulder. he looked over to find a container of sweets were being extended to him. “cookie?” The red haired woman asked in a kind tone. “home made, chocolate chip”. he looked down at the cookies then back up at her with confusion. he shook his head and turned attention back to the birds. humans, he will never understand them.

Not long had passed when he was finally ready to return to the dreaming but not before the red haired woman packed up her things and stood. “well have a nice day, thanks for letting me sit”. and with that she headed back across the park and vanished amongst the people and traffic. and the lord of dreams returned to his realm with an odd feeling in his stomach.

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~day 2~

He sat in the same park, on the same bench the next day. uncertain as to why he had the inclination suddenly to return that morning. but here he was sitting, feeding the birds. waiting for the feeling to pass so he could return to his realm and his much needed, very important work. perhaps it was what his sister had said about sun light and fresh air, maybe he was avoiding his work due to the unsatisfactory nature of his revenge on the man who had stolen 100 years of his life away. he did not know. there was a sweet scent in the air, like flowers blooming in the warm spring air. he thought briefly of cookies. “we have got to stop meeting like this”. as if summoned by the thought she appeared. she laughed as she sat beside him again on the bench, a sound like chimes on a windy day. today he noticed she wore a short pencil skirt navy blue dress under her jacket and her long hair was pulled up into an elegant bun on the top of her head. she smiled brightly at him as she had the day before and he felt the odd feeling in the pit of his abdomen once again. but once again he ignored her presence and concentrated on the birds before him who had oddly once again began to flock to him all at once.

She ate her sandwich silently while flipping through her papers as she had the day before. he felt the gentle tap and saw again a container of cookies before him, this time they where smaller and covered in brown and white dust. “snickerdoodle?”. she said. “again home made, by me if that wasn't clear yesterday.”. he shook his head and looked away from the cookies. “cookies not you’re thing?, I have a weakness for them”. she began. “my aunt Hilda always made cookies, I mean ALWAYS had them in the oven”. she went on, he did his best to ignore her insufferable talking but found himself hanging on to every word with ought being able to help it. her voice was in some way soothing to his ears. “whenever I had a bad day I could always count on a plate of warm cookies”. she stopped as she bit into one and looked over at him as if suddenly noticing his presence for the first time. “I’m sorry, I have this thing today and I’m nervous as hell and when that happens sometimes I over share”. he did not speak nor give her any inclination that he had been paying attention. honestly mortals and their inability to comprehend simple mannerisms. did he give off the impression that he wished to converse?, had he given her more then a glance?. no, he was simply being and just feeding the birds. she stopped talking after that and told himself he was glad of it but when she began to gather her things and put away the cookies he felt an odd sense of disappointment and unease. as if the encounter had not ended satisfactory. he passed her a side ways glance and noticed she looked to his amusement embarrassed and a little befuddled. “well have a nice day, I should get back sorry again for the over share”. she hesitated at the benches end for a moment and as if as an after thought she said. “I’m Lucy by the way”. he looked at her fully this time with what must have been a startled expression on his face and to his displeasure found himself unable to form words, for the first time in his life he had no idea what to say, all he could do was stare mouth partly open at her eyes, they were a vibrant and unnatural shade of emerald green.

And with a small smile on her lips she left. he stared after her unable to look away.

Lucy.

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Several days later

“going out again my lord?”. Lucienne asked questioningly as he walked through the library that afternoon. he had returned days before with no intension of going back but found himself unable to focus on his duties, instead he found his mind wondering, his thoughts evaded by emerald eyes and a wind chime laugh. her name bounced around his skull unceasingly. “just for a brief time, I shall return soon, can you watch over things while I’m gone?”. she nodded and without giving her a chance to protest that they had things needing his immediate attention he vanished in a swirl of sand and wind. he was standing in the park now, he could see across the way to where the bench sat and to his surprise and relief she was there. sitting alone a container of cookies beside her though she did not touch them the whole time he watched. she wore a simple black pant suite with blue high heels, her hair half up half down so that ringlets of red hung around her “I do not remember asking you to come Matthew”. the raven stood on the ground to his right. he shifted uneasily on is feet before speaking.

“I know I just wanted to tag along, get out for the dreaming for a bit......and we all wonder where you go when you leave”. he added the last bit after a pointed glare form the king of Dreams. Dream said nothing. why is he here?. what good dose this do either of them. mortals and Endless connote be and yet he can’t help the pool he feels when not in her presence. he can not help but wonder about her, all the things he dose not know. and he dose not know a thing about her, as odd as it is he can not find her book in the dreaming. can not figure out her last name or where she is from. this little mortal woman with striking green eyes. as if she could sense him then she looked up from her papers and they locked eyes. “you may stay Matthew” he said with a sigh. “but you must stay silent and you do not repeat anything you see or here back to the dreaming, do you understand?”. the last was a warning. Lucienne was not lord of the dream real and there for not his master and these were privet manors.

Silently he crossed the greenery that separated him from her, they never broke eyes contact as he did so and as he neared he could see the nervous excitement in her eyes, her lips where pulled in that bright smile she always gave him. “hi”. she said when he finally came to stand in front of her. “didn’t think I’d see you again”. she spoke low and sweet. her voice sent shivers down his spine. “neither did if I am to be honest, but I forgot something on our last meeting”. he took his seat beside her. she scooted over a little to welcome him. “oh?” her eyebrows poked up with amusement “and what would that be?”. she asked mischief tangling in her words as she spoke, she crossed her legs and leaned back observing him with her entrancing eyes. she simply can not be mortal he told himself, if there is any hope in this world she will be other then. “you’re last name”. he told her a small smile tugging at his lips.

She laughed at him and in any other instance he would have been angered, his pride hurt but hers was a most welcome sound. “Spellman, my name is Luscylla Spellman”.

And there it was he thought. she was not mortal, she was far from it. she is a witch.

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Part 2?. I finished this kind of late so may add some things later. feel free to comment and let me know what you think this is the first fic I’ve written on tumbler I used to be on quotev.com back when it was still popular lol.

Next Chap will be in Lucy’s P.O.V.

#The Sandman #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #Dream of the endless x witch OC #lord morpheus #the sandman fanfic #the chilling adventures of sabrina #crossover #Dream x Spellman witch

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the-hinky-panda · 1 year

Text

The Florist: Part III

@seltsamkind come and get your man. He’s being a distraction.

You have been in love with your neighbor from the first day you laid eyes on him.

Your mother had been recovering from a sprained ankle and you were bringing by a clipping of a caladium to add to the growing collection of plants on the back patio. Your mother was spending more and more time out there since she couldn’t spend her time in the garden so you were trying to make the space as comfortable as possible for her. She was touching the delicate white leaves of the plant when she asked the question that changed your life.

“Have you met the new neighbors down the street?”

“Not yet, Mama. Are they nice?”

“Very. The wife, Ana, stopped by with some empanadas and cookies. How she had time to make them is beyond me with a one year old and another on the way.”

You had tried to not take the comment personally. Your mother was very traditional and believed you should have been at least married by now, tending to a husband and not orchids, nurturing children and not roses. “What does her husband do?”

“He works for the government, I’m not sure exactly.” She sighs. “He’s very quiet.”

You had laughed lightly as you sprayed down the ferns hanging in the corner of the sunroom. “A quiet politician. We could use more of those.”

Your mother had clucked her tongue in disapproval at your comment. But as you were leaving, you promised to return the dishes that had been used for the empanadas and cookies. It was César who answered the door and your life had never been the same. As unbelievable as it sounded, it was like being struck by lightning: a flash of light so blinding and an immense amount of energy being shoved into your veins. His chocolate eyes were sharp, intelligent, but kind. There was a cheeky sense of humor in the small twist of his smile and you had never felt the urge to kiss someone so strongly before.

Then your common sense returned. He was married with one child and a pregnant wife. He was a politician or at least was aspiring to be one and that life was too public for your private personality. But that didn’t stop you from trying to commit his slender frame, the roll of his shirt sleeves over his forearms, and the soft look of his thick black hair to memory.

Over the next year, you frequently ran into the Gaviria family when you came to visit your parents. Ana asked for help with drooping plants and where was the best spot to put bougainvillea in the backyard. César would, on occasion, come out of his office with a book in his hand and you would discuss literature. You never considered yourself a “baby person” but holding the rapidly growing little boy and then the newly arrived baby girl never seemed like a forced effort. They truly were a lovely family.

It was two years later, Holy Week was approaching and the floral shop was getting ready to close for the long weekend. It was that Wednesday when César stopped in for an Easter bouquet to take home. He looked tired but excited so you had asked him about his job. He had leaned over the counter, whispering a secret that even Ana didn’t know yet: Galán had asked him to be his campaign manager for the Presidential election.

Despite your inventory being extremely low from all the other Easter arrangements that had been made, you went out to the back of the shop and cut fresh flowers from your personal source in honor of the occasion. You made the arrangement yourself: white lilies, pale pink roses, green tinged hydrangeas, with sprigs of blue thistle. Since it was the end of the day, you didn’t charge him, saying it was just a gift for a kind neighbor on this special holiday. He in turn invited you and your parents over for dinner on Good Friday.

That was how it started, the four year long painful friendship you and César now share. He was like a thorn that you kept pricking your fingers on, drawing blood and tears at times. You were convinced though that he saw you as just a friend, a companion, with shared interests in books and quiet solitude. You never once thought that his feelings carried the same underlying heat that yours did. That perhaps, when he looked at your face, he wanted to kiss that slight upcurl of a smirk from your lips.

You never allowed yourself to think about that until the night he fell asleep against you. He had been so relaxed, taking deep full breaths as he slept. You remembered the way his fingers curled against your sides when you ran your fingers through his hair. You could feel the desperation of just wanting to be close to someone, to feel safe with another person. It is the same thing you want. And despite having met multiple potential suitors over the years, none gave you that knife’s edge balance of thrill and calm that César provided.

So you continued with your life, trying to learn to be content with friendship and nothing more. To just enjoy the conversations you shared post holiday meals about the books you’ve read. But then he became President and moved out of the neighborhood just a year after you lost your parents and moved into their house. You would frequently find yourself staring at the darkened windows and locked doors of the Gaviria home forlornly. What if he never came back? You just couldn’t bear that thought. You would rather harbor this secret love and maintain his friendship than not have him at all in your life.

Then the explosion happened. A gas leak, the news is reporting. But it doesn’t matter what the cause, the result is the same. The shop is lost. Your family’s legacy is buried under dust, ash, and rubble. And just when you think you can manage the thought of the rebuild, César walks through your hospital room door. It’s just a different kind of knife twist in your heart. He offers comfort, slips his hand into yours and it just becomes too much. You want to crawl into his arms, curl up against his chest, tuck your head his chin and never move again. But you can’t. You can only put on a brave face, crack a joke instead of your facade, and keep repeating the mantra that you have had for the last four years.

He’s not yours to have.

***

César Gaviria is a man of his word.

When you are helped out of the medical transport vehicle, he makes sure you are greeted by Eduardo Sandoval and himself. The driver and nurse are so stunned at your elite welcome committee that they almost forget to assist you up the front steps. He doesn't blame them in the least as even you’re a little surprised to see the President and Vice Minister of Justice waiting on your front porch.

Eduardo takes the bag of bandages and medications while César takes your arm. Even that simple touch gives him some grounding, some balance to his topsy-turvy world. He makes sure to keep his hands on your arms, remembering the massive blanket of gauze that covered your back in the hospital. He doesn’t want to add to your pain even if all he wants to do is hold you close, protect you.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

His reason for showing up is two-fold. One, he said he would be here. His second reason is less straightforward. Ana’s question had plagued him ever since the words had left her mouth. How long have you been in love with her? Despite a few restless nights, he is no closer to an answer. But he wants one, he wants to know when friendship crossed into new, more dangerous, territory.

You hand the key to Eduardo, who opens the front door for you and César to pass through. The home hasn’t changed hardly at all since he was last there almost two years ago. Bright sunlight filters through the large front windows into an office on the left and a sitting room on the right. It’s when he passes through the kitchen that the answer to his question hits him square in the face.

Two years.

He’s been in love with you for two years.

The day had been long. The outpouring of grief, immense. Your parents were well loved and respected in the community and the community made sure you knew that. But with a crowd that size, came a long line of mourners parading through your home to pay their respects.

It had been a senseless accident. A drunk driver speeding through a red light and two pillars of Bogota killed instantly. It was so unnecessary. César watched you the entire day, stoic and in shock. It had been almost ten at night, a full twelve hours after the burial, and people were still saying their condolences to you. Ana had taken the two kids back to their house to put them to bed while he stayed to make sure everything was locked and safe after the last mourner left.

It was after midnight when the last person exited and he locked the door behind them. He was closing the curtains in the front parlor when he heard a crash from the kitchen. By the time he made it there, you were kneeling on the floor, trying to pick up a smashed dish with bloodied hands, tears staining your cheeks.

“Stop,” he reached out and tried to grab your hands. You were still gripping shards of the broken plate and he gently shook your wrists until the pieces dropped back to the floor. “Here, come here.”

You allowed yourself to be led over to the sink as he turned on the water to run over your hands. The red disappeared quickly and he found the culprit was just a minor cut to your thumb. He patted the cut dry and wrapped the dish towel around the cut. Your eyes cut back to the broken dish.

“That was my mother’s favorite dish.”

Fresh tears started to fall, the pressure of grief and exhaustion too much for you. When you moved back towards the broken plate, he didn’t even think about what to do. It was a moment that was ruled completely by instinct. He wrapped his arms around you, pulled you close to him and held you as tight as he could. Sobs wracked your small frame as you buried your face against his neck. He just held you close until you calmed, slumped against him, worn out by the emotions.

At that moment, the oddest thing happened. It was like reality bent and he had a glimpse into a future, possibly his future. It was no longer your kitchen but his as well. His kids weren’t two houses down, just one floor above him. That was when he realized, on some level, that this was where he belonged.

He belonged with you.

He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize who the love of his life happens to be. That things like a love of a lifetime even exist. That this friendship that he has treasured for so long has been much more than just platonic. He watches as Eduardo shows you all the plants that had been salvaged from the shop, watches you touch each leaf and blossom with whisper soft glances of your fingertips. How have you survived so much loss, so much pain, and still move forward?

How can he pile another weight onto your already wounded shoulders?

Before he can change his mind, Eduardo guides you to a chair, makes you comfortable and practically pushes him into the chair next to yours before excusing himself and disappearing back into the house. This is the plan that had been decided on before your arrival home. César now has exactly thirty minutes to confess this new found realization to you and see how you react. It’s quite possible that you don’t even feel anything other than friendship towards him. This could all be in his head, a complete misunderstanding-

“César?”

His head snaps up and over to you. “Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

He smiles nervously. “I should be asking you that.”

You start to lean back against the wicker chair but then change your mind, leaning into the side of it. “I really appreciate you and Vice Minister Sandoval coming to welcome me home.”

“I told you I would be here.”

You nod once, almost solemnly, before staring down at your shoes. “How is Ana?”

He’s a politician and picks up on the unasked question that underlies your actual one. Why is she not here? Why is it Eduardo and not her in your home? He couldn’t ask for a better opening but fear causes him to fumble for his words. “Ana is fine. She is…”

You sigh heavily. “She’s angry at me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you that she's angry with.” It hadn’t been true a few days ago. Ana had been angry, first at him, then at you, and then at him again. But something had changed in the last twenty-four hours. She had come to some sort of acceptance that the situation had been out of her control, out of yours and his control as well. Something had reminded her that no one has the power to choose who they fall in love with. And after a few days of contemplating and re-examining the past, she had come to the conclusion that César had reiterated to her: nothing had actually happened between you and him. That knowledge had opened up the door for the discussion of how to move forward.

You groan softly and drop your head into your hand. “Oh God. I am so sorry-”

“No, you do not apologize for anything.” He reaches over and pulls your hand away from your face, keeping a tight grip on your fingers. “Ana is…mostly past the anger stage now.”

Your eyes are laser focused on your entwined hands. “And you? Are you angry at me?”

At first he thinks you’re making a joke but he sees the serious set to your jaw, the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Why would I be angry at you?” He takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

“You’re making fun of me.” You stand up and try to pull your hand away from him but he stands too and he holds firm.

“Why would I do that?” He pulls you closer to him, cupping the side of your face and using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “Why would I risk showing up to your home just to poke fun at you? When have you known me to be capable of such a thing?”

When you finally look at him, your eyes are so full of cautious hope it makes his heart physically hurt in his chest. “You really do…you really do love me?”

“I do.”

“This isn’t just some pain pill induced dream I’m having?”

“No, this is very real.”

“Maybe I died in the explosion.”

“You are very much alive.”

For the briefest of moments, you smile with such an amount of joy it’s almost blinding but worry quickly takes over your countenance. “Wait, what does this mean? You’re married. You're the president of the entire country. We can’t…” Defeat comes back over you. “We can’t.”

He runs his fingers over the ridge of your cheekbones, the curve of your jaw, the line of your nose and you don’t shy away from him. If anything, you lean slightly into his touch. All of this new territory to learn that is now available to him. But you’ve made a good point, a point that Ana made as well when she finally discussed the outcome of the situation with him. “No, we can’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“But what about Ana?”

You’re swaying on your feet, still tired from the healing process, so he maneuvers you back into your chair. He drags the other chair closer to you so he can still keep hold of your hand. These quiet, private moments are going to be few and very far between so he wants to make the most of it. He tries to recap the hours-long conversation he and Ana had the previous night into the bare necessities. “Ana wants to be, is very good at being, a politician’s wife. And once my term is over, I don’t want to be a politician anymore. She’s looking into going back to the United States to get a degree in political science, maybe become a politician herself. But no matter what she decides to do, our paths are going to diverge from each other in three years.”

“And what do you want to be?”

Had you asked him that a few days ago, he wouldn’t have an answer. Now he does. “At peace.” He motions to the plants that surround you both. “And I find peace here, with you. I’ve always been able to breathe when I’m around you. Whenever I feel the need to find my center in the chaos, this is where I want to come.”

“Plants have that effect on you.”

“You have that effect on me.”

You duck your head, trying to hide the pleased smile that crosses your face. “I always feel like I’m home when you’re around, like I finally belong in whatever space I find myself in, as long as you’re there.” You squeeze his hand. “I do love you too.”

He doesn’t get his hopes up just yet. The hardest part of the conversation hasn’t been done. “Here’s the issue we face right now though. The media, the news, anyone who is looking to discredit my presidency, will not hesitate to drag you into the spotlight. They won’t care if what they’re reporting is right or wrong. We can’t do anything, be seen together, until my term is over in three years.”

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Okay.”

You agree to it so quickly, he feels the need to make sure you understand the situation. “You can wait three years? For me? For this to be over?”

You smile knowingly at him. “I've been waiting for you for four years without any hope of you even noticing me. I think I can wait for three years with hope now.”

#cesar gaviria #cesar gaviria x reader #cesar gaviria x you

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brookezilla · 11 months

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I got tagged by @jubeelee to list my comfort characters, which I'm quickly realising are all variations of "unhinged yet badass" and mainly women.

Rebecca Welton — Ted Lasso: My baby! She's my comfort character atm for a lot of reasons but purely because she has so many layers of vulnerability. We've had three seasons to slowly chip away at her walls and reveal her softer, silly sides which are as wonderful as her boss-ass bitch modes.

Donna Noble — Doctor Who: Donna, my beloved, means sO MUCH to me I stg. She was the first time I saw a character that I could see myself in on television growing up and for that, I will defend her until my dying breath. Her character progression in establishing her own sense of self-worth really helped me understand that you don't have to be cookie-cutter pretty to change the world, all you have to do is believe in yourself. Her ending was unforgivable tho, so I'm glad RTD is redeeming her next year x.

Loretta West — Outrageous Fortune: Getting a real niche with this one but Loretta was a Kiwi teen that I aspired to be like. She's beautifully chaotic, and way more badass than I ever was but boy oh boy was she fascinating. She was so REAL! NZ doesn't produce television very much at all, and this was a rare gem that truly encapsulated growing up in West Auckland in the 2000s.

Casey McCall — Sports Night: THIS SHOW WILL FOREVER BE THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY. He's beautiful and charming and very Ted Lasso-coded, but written by Aaron Sorkin in a show cancelled in the 90s to focus on West Wing. Casey is adorably goofy and just trying to find his way post-divorce while working with his best friend and flirting with his long-time friend/old flame. I love it so much.

MacKenzie "Mac" McHale — The Newsroom: This one is arguably controversial because Sorkin tends to write two-dimensional female roles but I love her. Is it because she's self-sabotaging and beautifully unhinged? Yes. Is it also because we both have a chaotically passionate approach to the same kind of job in television news? also yes. This show was great, but Mac was the best part imo.

So, I'm tagging @movrings , @roamwithahungryheart , @existential-labrador, @cherish--these--times and @thatonesquintern13. Tag! You're it!

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maryslouisv · 1 year

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to speak or to die

part three: i know nothing, remus

part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5

ao3 - wattpad

“I know nothing, Remus.”

“You seem to know everything.”

I was taken aback. I couldn’t tell if he meant to be rude or not. I never could. I knew I had a tendency to be a know-it-all, especially when I was being pressed. I decided to assume he was being kind.

“I don’t know about anything that matters.”

“What matters, then?”

“You know.”

Remus didn’t know. Neither did I. I can’t say I ever will, maybe he figured it out on how own. Small things mattered too much back then, and now the big things don’t matter nearly enough.

From that day forward, things changed. I was much warmer to Remus, he seemed to care. I enjoyed my time with him much more than I had before, I wondered if maybe I pretended to hate him for so long because he was too interesting. Because he never spoke of himself. Because he aspired to do great things and had his life figured out at such a young age.

We did everything together. I stayed in town longer so that I could help him with his play, I read and edited his scenes as they were written. I bought him breakfast and watched him clean his cane. He let me help him retwist his dreadlocks, even though I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I’m pretty sure he stayed up late that night and fixed my mistakes.

One day, Lily and Marlene came over with a few other kids our age for a game of volleyball. Remus sat out, needing his cane worse than usual, but he watched us all play. He cheered for Marlene, Lily, and me. We won with everything we had, and Matilda made everyone fresh lemonade around midday.

That evening, I saw Marlene and Remus by the pool late into the night. The moon was full above their heads and I could see that they were laughing up a storm. They both looked beautiful, illuminated by the moonlight.

“Hey, Moony,” I said to him the next morning. He laughed and was surprised. No one had called him that before. His eyes sparkled like stars when I explained that he almost looked like part of the moon that night.

On our walk to town, we talked about the volleyball games; the other kids who had played with us. Out of curiosity, I said to him, “Marlene’s very pretty, don’t you think?”

Remus nodded for a moment, “Yes, she is. She’s fun to talk to. What about Lily, hm?”

I started to laugh a little. “She’s pretty too. I love her paintings.”

“She’s just pretty?”

“Marlene is just fun to talk to?”

I didn’t like the feeling in my gut. Almost a form of jealousy. I’d always been a jealous person, but this was just Remus. A guest for the summer. I had nothing to be jealous of. I wasn’t even sure that Marlene had any romantic interest in men.

“Well, she's smart. She’s determined. She’s a lot like you. But you can’t tell me there isn’t something between you and Lily.”

“Lily is just a friend to me.”

“She looks hurt every time you dismiss her. You’re not just a friend to her.”

I dismissed him. Maybe what he said was true, but I didn’t believe it. I moved on, but that thought stayed in the back of my mind.

He tried to bicker with me further but was quickly shut down as we entered our favorite bakery.

“Good morning, boys,” the kinda lady said with a thick Scottish accent, “usually pastries today?”

“Can I just add a chocolate chip cookie?” Remus asked sweetly before we handed her the money. We always split the cost, unless my dad paid.

“Remus likes cookies?” I asked, somewhat rhetorically, while we waited for our order.

“I do, but the cookie is for Victoria,” he said, putting an extra few dollars into the baker’s tip jar. “I told her we come here most mornings, she said she loves the cookies here.”

I smiled. I really did love that Victoria had a friend. Marls and I let her tag around often, but all three of us knew it wasn’t the same. I loved Victoria and Marlene like they were my sisters.

We spent the rest of the day in the shed with Lily and Marlene. Like it was yesterday, I remember Marlene’s shaggy hair in a messy bun at the back of her head. She smiled so brightly when she saw that Remus had bought a cookie for her sister. Marlene always appreciated little things like that. We worked on our respective projects and laughed like old friends. The way it should’ve been.

We swam that night, and Marlene and Remus ran off to the beach while Lily and I stayed by the patio.

“They’re getting along nicely.”

My stomach turned. I’m glad I’m not the only one who saw that. The familiar jealously panged in my stomach.

“I suppose.” I deadpanned. I wasn’t sure where she was going with that.

“Are you jealous?” she asked. Her tone was similar to mine.

“Are you?”

Lily and I both started to laugh. “Yes, of course, I am.”

“Of Remus?”

She laughed again, “Gods, no. James, how could you be so oblivious? You’re nineteen and still haven’t grown out of your mindless, childish, brain.”

“Marlene, then?” I knew Marlene had a few girlfriends, but not Lily.

“Why do you think I spend so much time with you guys every summer?”

“Oh.”

We talked about it. I couldn’t help but what Remus had said just earlier that day. I didn’t say anything to her. I didn’t want her to think I believed him. I knew better. The girl I had been friends with every summer, and some Christmases, since I was eleven years old, was in love with my best friend. And I had no idea. I’ve always been clueless, even now.

“You should tell her,” I said. Lily’s eyes zeroed in on me like it was a definite no. “Marlene doesn’t talk about her feelings the way I do. The only way you’ll ever know if those feelings are reciprocated, is by being honest with her. If we don’t tell people how we feel, how will they know?”

“You should listen to your own advice, James.”

She stood up, and she left.

Two days later, I walked into the shed to find Marlene and Lily with paint all over themselves. Lily was kissing Marlene on the cheek, and Marl’s face was squished into it. They were happy. They both froze when they noticed me; then we all laughed. I was happy because Marlene was happy.

It was rare to see Marlene smile as much as she had during these few weeks. I like to think I made her happy, but with Victoria’s condition, it was hard for her to focus on those days. On what may have really mattered. Lily definitely helped with that.

“Did you listen to your advice?” Lily asked me after she washed up. Marlene gave us both a confused look, and I gave her one that told her, I’ll fill you in later. She understood as best friends do.

“I haven’t,” I said, and Lily just gave me a look. One that burned into my eyelids like a tattoo. It motivates me now.

However, I planned to just ignore her. I was still in a state of denial when it came to my feelings for Remus. Even though I soaked in his scent every time I could. I used his body wash when I showered, and smoked his cigarettes from the red box, instead of mine from the blue. I knew better than to lie than to deny it. I just have always hated rejection.

I wanted to ignore Lily, and I did at first. I made it three days, going without saying anything to Remus. We hardly talked at all. I don’t know why he seemed to avoid me. He woke up much earlier than me, and he did our routine alone. I was frustrated. I wanted him. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Our summer was coming close to an end. I was just glad my jealous churns were gone.

“I wish we had more time,” I told him one evening. He finally came around, because I bought him and victoria cookies and had Matilda make him his favorite peachy drink. We were smoking on our balcony, almost dead silent. He was going to Milan in a little more than a week and then taking a train back to bristol. He’d be in Milan, by himself, I’d assumed, for a week. He should’ve been in our villa. In my bed, with me. I wish that was how it had been all summer, maybe we would’ve had more time.

“More time for what?” he laughed, almost stumbling on his cane. “We’ve had an amazing summer, don’t you think?” I suppose he wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t know, moony. I just feel like everyone our age has their lives figured out.”

We both knew what I was really talking about. I know that now.

“Like who?” he scoffed.

“You do. You’ve told Marlene and me so many things you want to do with your life. My friends from home: Sirius, Regulus, and Peter. They all have something or someone. Pandora and Dorcas, they’ve got each other. They have their plans. And they’re the most eccentric, impulsive people I know. But I’m just here, falling for a boy I’m never going to see after next week.”

Remus walked away before I realized what I had said. When the statement registered, I felt like I lost my mind. I went back inside, too. And I waited.

I didn’t sleep that night. I heard him shuffle in the bathroom, his cane hitting the tile floor. When the sun began to rise, I heard him push something under my bathroom door. I waited until I heard the other door shut.

It was a small note,

Let��s talk. We have a lot to go over. Get the bikes!!!

Moony

I opened the door and found a smoothie on the bathroom counter. Just like the first week. Maybe I hadn’t ruined everything. Not right then anyway.

We rode our bikes into town, for the first time since his first week. He didn’t talk until we found the bakery.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” he said. He sounded really mature and grown. I liked this Remus, but it also scared me.

“I’m sorry. About what I said. You know, it was really just- I wasn’t thinking right. I couldn’t sleep-“

“Aw, James couldn’t sleep because of me.”

“Stop, please,” I felt my cheeks warming up, like they always did, just from the way he spoke to me. “You want to talk. So I’m going to talk first. I get it, you don’t feel the same way. There wasn’t even a point in bringing me here, just to let me down easily. Bring me to our favorite spot so that you can reject me and make it so that I can never come to this bakery again. Hell, I’ll never be able to come here without thinking of you again, this village. Our villa. I can't go to my bedroom, the one you sleep in, without thinking of you. In just a few short weeks, my heart has become full of you. I’ve spent it all thinking I hated you, wasted all our time. I never hated you. I could never hate you. You’re too much for me to hate. Victoria loves you, Marlene loves you, Lily loves you. I think I love you too.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What? Moony, that’s not-“

“Call me Moony again and I will kiss you.”

“Moony,” I was stammering. Blubbering. He clearly didn’t care.

He kissed me. The beach was behind us, we were sitting at our favorite place in town. Every star aligned, even if only for that moment. My heart had never, will never be that full. That warmth encapsulated me, I felt like the sun.

By the time we let go, we were both breathless. He put his hands on the back of my head, past my bandana, and mine were at the nape of his neck, tugging at his dreads. We went back for more, but before we touched again, the baker came and unlocked her door.

“Boys, please.”

“Sorry, Minnie,” Remus and I said, breathless and giggly.

“How have you not seen the signs?” he asked me that night.

“What signs?” I was frantic. We were laughing about how much time we’d wasted, how we’d make it up in the spring.

“God, you’re oblivious.”

“One of my many talents. Seriously, though, what signs?”

“The drinks. Asking you questions and walking with you even when I knew you were annoyed with me. I told you I loved talking to your best friend and then said you two were alike. Everything. I’ve wanted you since the day you showed me everything.”

“You knew I was annoyed? Why did you keep up then?”

“I knew you’d warm up eventually. That’s who you are.”

I guess I was predictable. Marlene told me that several times too. Predictable, oblivious, and too kind.

We’d sat on that patio for hours. It was the most fun I’d had with anyone that wasn’t Marlene or our group from home. We’d split his brand new pack of cigarettes, and there were only two left by morning.

He asked me about Lily and Marlene. He apologized to me for assuming Lily and I were something more, then laughed when I told him he was thinking of the wrong friend. We kissed that night. More times than I could count. He touched me more than he had any other time prior. Brisk, feathery touches, every chance he could get. I’m sure my parents noticed, the way my face got hot every time. I would’ve had a trail of his touches tattooed if I could.

“I love you too, I think,” Remus whispered in my ear. We were dancing in the kitchen with his favorite record playing before Matilda came to work for the day.

“That’s not fair, we only have two more days, moony.”

“Then we’ll be quiet. Know that it’s there, and it’s lingering.” He planted a kiss on the top of my head and we danced until the song was over.

When Matilda came home, we scurried away and two my (his) room. We giggled all the way up the stairs and shut the door as quietly as possible. When I turned around, my back was against the door. Remus came back up to me and kissed me again. It was sweet but determined. His hands were firm at my waist and mine were feeling under his big sweater. How he wore a sweater in the midst of August, I don’t know, but I loved the way he looked in it.

We kissed until the sun was rising and Matilda was knocking on his door.

“Remus, dear?” she asked, “Victoria is here.”

“Shit,” he said, jumping up to change into new clothes. Ones he wasn’t wearing the day before. He kissed me one more time, “I’ll be back. Let’s have a picnic this afternoon. Just us.”

I nodded and went up to the other room. He waved and walked out. I saw him and Victoria walk to the beach and sit there, watching the sunrise. His cane stayed in his lap every time he sat down, just like her bandanas always matched her outfits.

That afternoon, Remus found me wearing a muscle tee, one that showed the sides of my torso, with my khakis. I was in the kitchen, making sandwiches, even after matilda’s countless remarks against me cooking or using the kitchen when she wasn’t around.

We were supposed to have more time.

So we made the best of what we had.

Stolen glances, hidden kisses, getting ice cream hand-in-hand with the girls. We helped my mother in her garden together, smearing dirt on each other’s noses. Took photos with Marlene’s polaroid camera and my dad’s film.

The night before Remus was meant to leave for Milan, my mum and dad stopped me in the living room.

“Since we’re paying for a lot of Remus’ expenses next week,” my mum started, “We were thinking you could go with him. It would be nice for you to have some time alone with him.”

“What?” I asked, probably not as confident as I remember.

“He has a book party, and there’s a beautiful art museum out there we think you would love,” my dad said, “We’ll give you some money for food and the train ride back home. An extra week for you and your friend.”

Friend.

“Sure, okay. Have you talked to Moons about this?”

“It was his idea.”

I went upstairs and I packed. I’d never been to Milan, other than to pass through. I hoped we would have time for everything we wanted to do. It would be nice to roam around with Remus for a little while. Marlene came by and helped me pack. This was the first time we’d been alone since Lily’s great confession.

“You seem happy,” she said. Her blonde (and now also blue) bangs were overgrown and she blew them away from her eyes as she lit a cigarette.

“I am. I like him a lot, sucks it’ll be over so soon, though.” Maybe I always knew.

“You’ll keep in touch though, right?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “But it’ll never be the same. Even if we grow old together, it’ll never be like our first summer.”

“At least you’ll always have summer. Have you talked to our friends back home?”

I hadn’t. Not since June, before Remus arrived. They hadn’t called, they hardly ever do.

“I’ve written once or twice, but you know how Sirius and Regulus’ parents are. And Peter hardly responds. I haven’t reached out to anyone else. Have you?”

“No, not really. I called Dorcas the first week, but haven’t spoken to anyone else really. I hope they’re alright.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

The next morning, Victoria and Remus sat on the beach for one last time. She, Marlene, and Lily all rode with us to the train station to say their goodbyes.

And then we were off to Milan.

i do not give you or anyone else permission to translate, transfer, or copy my work in any way. this belongs to me (olive, maryslouisv). it is already posted to two other platforms, that is enough.

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