Tumgik
#wlw let’s meet there and then have a crazy party together
signedkoko · 5 months
Note
Could you possibly write hcs for Loona having a crush on reader and how a romantic relationship with her would be like?
Loona X Reader [Romantic]
In which Loona has a crush on you, and you eventually end up together.
Tumblr media
You were just a friend of a friend of a friend of Blitzo's who happened to be around while he had dragged Loona on a small intel mission
Much like her, dragged around by your boss who was just as, if not slightly more, annoying than her own
You had headphones on, blasting music into your ears so loud she could hear it just enough to like it and find it on her phone
Something like Out of my league?
It was on repeat all night after that, where she continued to wonder who you were, and if she would see you again
Totally in denial of it being a crush
No, no, she just thinks you're cool is all
Cool and totally attractive, with great music taste and-
Yeah
She manages to do a little digging and find your sinstagram, and you add her back almost immediately
It takes her a bit to get the courage to text you, but things go smoothly and soon you've invited her to go to a concert with you
She loves hanging out with you, because you're one of the only people who isn't already directly in her work circle
There is no real confession, except one day you tell someone she's your girlfriend and that just sets it in stone
Your relationship is very slow and built up, rather than sudden exchanged and revelations
No stress, just two people who love being around one another and do things at their pace
Loona does not like the idea of introducing you to Blitzo as her significant other, let alone any of the other she works with
She might tell Millie, who tells Moxie, but despite any opinions Moxie may have, he would never try to spoil something like that for her, especially with Blitzo's track record
Besides, maybe having you for an s/o would make her less of an ass to work with
He is totally right, so long as you're around
Blitzo will eventually find out, and he's extremely critical until he outright meets you
Expect a lot of hesitance and maybe some threats
But overall, he is glad of anyone, Loona found someone who isn't absolutely batshit crazy, and just hopes you won't be like any of his past partners
Loona and you mostly go on dates to parties, concerts, and restaurants
She's very protective of you, and tends to be the louder and feistier one
You are the string that holds her together, and helps her feel more secure
To Loona, no one compares
Tumblr media
Author's Note - Mmmmm, new character, refreshing! Thank you so much for requesting!! I totally imagined this being wlw but didnt include any gendered terms for reader so we may all eat well...
111 notes · View notes
youngster-monster · 5 months
Text
Im in finals hell currently but stranger things and steddie have their claws in me once again so have this. fic idea thing for a role reversal au between steve and eddie
Season 1, Will Byers disappears and Eddie may be a freak, but shit, missing kid, so he goes on a few of the search parties with his uncle. And he keeps going, even when Wayne's hours mean he can't go anymore: just grabs the lamp torch and walks through the woods for a few hours when he can’t sleep, often on his own. It’s creepy as hell out there, he keeps feeling like something is watching him, but whenever he tries to sleep he ends up spending hours staring at his ceiling instead so whatever. It’s something to do. He keeps doing it even after they fish out Will’s body from the quarry: Hawkins’ nicer when it’s quiet.
He tried to like, talk to Jonathan a few times at school, freaks should stick together etc, but it didn’t exactly. Work. Still, he finds himself wandering past the Byers’ house and when he sees the lights blinking like crazy and hears the noises coming from inside he decides to investigate.
Steve, meanwhile, saw Nancy’s gun and decided shit was already weird enough, running out of the narrative none the wiser. For now. Eddie bursts into the house just in time to see the Demorgogon: his turn at being a protagonist!
The following seasons would go in the same vein. Eddie gets reverse adopted by Dustin on virtue of being a cool older male figure who’s into DnD and probably spends a lot of time grabbing the kids and running instead of getting his ass beat by the villain of the week: THIS protagonist is a runner, and he gets way fewer concussions about it
(Steve, meanwhile, gets dumped without even knowing what made Nancy change so much. No friends, because his previous ones were assholes, and no girlfriend, because he’s bullshit: he’s a pretty lonely guy.)
Nancy won’t let Eddie hang around the kids while dealing, so he picks up a job as Scoops Ahoy instead. Please picture this in your mind. It takes a minute for his, huh. Loud. personality to grow on Robin, but they have that kind of wlw/mlm acerbic friendship, you know the one. When there’s two gays on shift NOTHING gets done. 
Decoding russian cyphers is great fodder for future DnD puzzles and he has a grand ol’ time up until they get kidnapped; he gets a few traumas about it and also a mutual coming out, which is nice because he really thought he’d die the only gay person in Hawkins.
Steve gets a job at some sorts of sports goods store in Starcourt; his parents were NOT happy that he didn’t get into any college. That’s where he meets Chrissy: she needs new shoes for cheer practice, he flirts with her, they actually go on a date, and he’s done enough introspection to realize boy, she is NOT having fun here. He apologizes, SHE apologizes, they’re both cute about it, he drives her home, and somehow they become friends instead. He deserves that.
So in ‘86, when Chrissy needs something to silence the nightmares, she goes to her good pal Steve Harrington at Family Video instead: maybe a movie would help. They chat a bit, he proposes they watch “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” after his shift, and then she starts floating, which isn’t a great moment for anyone involved
In his scramble to climb over the counter to drag her down, Steve walks on the tv remote that controls the display TV, turning the volume up. He had put Grease on when Chrissy walked in: it’s one of her favorite. “Summer Nights” starts blaring, and it’s not her favorite but shit, i’m in charge of the plot here, it works enough that she collapses to the ground, in a bad, bad shape, but alive.
Lucas is pretty much the only one of the kids who’s close-ish to Steve; I figure he reached out to the last best ball boy of hawkins high for tips when he tried out for the basketball team. Don’t ask me how they became actual friends, just know that they are, so the next day he goes looking for Steve to talk about recent My Friends Don’t Like Me Balling teenage angst and finds a crime scene instead. Steve isn’t at the hospital either: he’s at the police station, being questioned because the cops think he’s the one who broke a few of Chrissy’s limbs and put her in a coma (the main theory is that he asked her out, she said no, and he, what, flew in a rage? It’s not like he can tell them the TRUTH. The cameras don’t even work inside the family video.)
Cue the rest of the season. With one long freakout on Steve’s part because his parents are rich enough for him to post bail but jesus christ there isn’t enough money in the world to forget the fact that magic is real and hates you specifically
5 notes · View notes
marzeline · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
so is she... going to see the She-Ra movie or what?
15K notes · View notes
oligbia · 3 years
Note
Hi hii~
Could you do a truth or dare (or 7 minutes in heaven) Eijiro Kirishima short story (maybe nsfw if possible heh), please? 🥺
Keep up the great work!! 💕
Of course you can darling! Im super excited to get any and all requests and im really excited to do this one! Thank you so much for your support, it means the absolute world to me. I haven't written a lot of smut with guys recently, ive been on more of a wlw thing, so im a little rusty hehe. . .
I honestly didn't do a lot of editing on this once it was done, I had it going like "all the way" then realized Kiri wouldn't do that on the first day- anyways it'll make sense. If you want more Kiri stuff I can totally give you more, just let me know :)
7 Minutes In Heaven
Pro Hero!Eijiro KirishimaXReader
NSFW, Minors do not interact
Warnings: Sexual behavior, giving and receiving oral, making out in a closet, mild swearing
Tumblr media
A hero gala was an event like none other.  It was a night were all Japan's hero's and their dotting staff would all assemble to accept awards and receive rankings. It was a night for citizens to see their favorite hero's dressed to the nines and hash out who was truly the best hero on social media.
And, for starter hero's, it's was night to get shit faced, since the likelyhood of them reciving any award was slim anyways.
Pro heroes Red Riot, Pinky, Cellophane, and Chargebolt where no exception to this. They were all still pretty low in the ranks of heroes, especially considering they were all fresh out of UA only a few years ago. The only two UA graduates to jump into the hero world right were no surprise Deku and Dynamite. Deku practically left UA the top hero, entering in at the 5th rank overall. Dynamite took a little work, he still wasn't a fan favorite, but his work was undeniable, he was easily starting in at rank 10.
The formerly-known bakusquad sat comfortably at the back of the gala room, all a little tipsy. They watched as Bakugou was being practically held on a child leash by Best Jeanist, forced to be on best behavior.
Denki watched the room quickly, his shifting glances moving quickly. His eyes landed on your figure somewhere across the way.
"Oh my god, is that Y/N? We haven't seen her since UA!" His voice wasn't at all hushed, people around the table glancing at him with slight disgust.
"Woah, that totally is!" Sero joined in on the ogling. "She's like, totally hot now!"
Kirishima looked your way, practically chocking on his champagne. He let out a few strangled coughs when his eyes landed on your form. The dress you were wearing was long and elegant, showing off your curves and hugging your waist. He was able to see your toned arms and watch as they elegantly moved as you spoke.
Mina poked Kiri's now flushed cheek. "You always had quite the hots for Y/N in UA, huh? And she wasn't even in our class."
Kirishima rolled his eyes. "I didn't 'have the hots for her.' I just thought she was...manly."
Denki and Sero puckered their faces, making kissing sounds, their drunken state throwing them back to a bunch of 14 year olds, rather than the 24 year olds they were now.
Kirishima waved them off, shaking his head. Mina abruptly stood up, waving you over. It was no time before you turned around, your gaze meeting her as you flashed your smile at her.
Kirishima swatted at Mina, trying to pull her back into her seat. "Mina, sit down, you're embarrassing us."
"Oh please, those two are embarrassing. I'm helping."
Kirishima watched as you moved your way to his table smiling softly. "It's great to see you all. I haven't seen you guys since we graduated."
Kirishima wanted to say something, but his tongue was sadly caught in his own mouth.
"Crazy, I know! I see you're doing well as a support gear engineer, that's exciting!" Mina made easy small talk, her foot kicking Kirishima's calf under the table. "You know, Kirishima here has been needing some new support gear!"
You smiled at Kiri, your own face going a little red. He was much older now. His jawline was more defined, his build larger. You couldn't tell from his suit how much stronger he was, but you could tell he was clearly built and taller. His hair had grown out a bit, it neatly tied back into a manbun.
"Oh? Does Fatgum not have someone who can make it for you?"
Kirishima smiled, laughing awkwardly. "He does, or, we do. They just, aren't as good at you."
"You haven't seen my work since UA, it's not l that improved. I still have a lot to learn before I'm good…"
Kirishima shook his head. "Don't say that, you were always super smart and made us amazing gear!" Kirishima blushed at his sudden enthusiasm.
Mina stood up, offering you her seat. "Y/N, would you mind staying here with Kiri for a moment, I think Denki and Sero needed to excuse themselves but are a little, ya'know." Mina made a drinking motion with her hand, elbowing Sero and Denki to follow her lead. The two had been snickering the entire time while simultaneously drooling over you.  
The trio walked off, leaving you alone with Kirishima. Kirishima chuckled softly, lost for words again.
"So, how's the side-kick life?"
Kirishima looked up at you. "It's alright. Fatgum is an amazing hero. He's super manly! And working for him is great too! Especially when he feeds me during patrols!"
You smiled at him, that smile that drives him crazy. "Well, you're definitely in the favor of girls everywhere. Your girlfriend is probably thrilled to have such a stong-"
"I don't have a girlfriend!" Kirishima practically leaped from his seat to assure you that he was indeed single. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some composure. "I don't have a girlfriend. I am, completely single."
"Oh. I just figured someone as amazing and pretty as yourself would have a girlfriend." You looked down at your fingers, fidgeting with them as a soft blush spread across your face.
"You think I’m pretty?" Kirishima looks over at you, flashing you a small, toothy, grin.
"Is that weird?"
"Not at all! I think it's manly!"
You both laughed awkwardly. You both sit in silence for a moment, an incredibly awkward silence.
Kirishima spoke up first. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
You shook your head no. Kirishima nodded. Muttering a “cool, cool” under his breath.
Shortly thereafter, much to Kirishima’s relief, Mina returned with Denki and Sero. She smiled at you, her gaze warm. “These two are a bit over the edge and about to make a fool of themselves. I think we should go to Kirishima’s place and continue this party there, yea?”
Kirishima groaned. “Why my place? You have your own house, Mina.”
“I know, but yours is so much bigger and it’s closer to the venue.” She winked at Kirishima and glanced at youquickly, dropping hints. Kirishima, a little confused, gave up any sort of bickering he had.
“Fine.” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling at you. “Did you want to come, Y/N?”
You nodded, thanking him for the invitation. Mina threw her hands up excitedly, grabbing Denki and Sero, pulling them out behind her. Kirishima stood up, offering you his arm. You rested your hands on it, allowing him to lead you out of the venue.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Let’s play truth or dare!” Denki called out, laying sprawled out on Kirishima’s living room floor. Sero was laying near him, half asleep. Mina was cast over a chair, her legs dangling over one of the armrests. You were seated comfortably on Kirishima’s couch, wearing a pair of his sweats and hoodies. He had offered you the change of clothes when you came over with the group, wanting to keep you comfortable. To him, seeing you in his clothes was some fantasy of his. The way his clothes hung off your smaller body was adorable and was doing something to him he wasn’t sure he could explain.  
Sero shoots Denki a look. “Isn’t that game for middle schoolers? People our age play, I don’t know, checkers?”
Mina perked up at the mention of the game. She was, of course, the matchmaker of the night, determined to land Kiri a girlfriend out of the girl he spent his entire high school experience crushing on, or, at least, give him a solid one-night stand if you both were willing. “Don’t be such a drag, Sero! It can be fun. We’re 24, not 64.”
Mina spun herself around in the chair, sitting cross legged and facing the group. She looked over at you and Kiri, who was sitting a considerable distance from each other on the couch. “What about it, you two. Are you both down?”
Kirishima shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of Mina and her antics.
“Why not?”
Kirishima’s face shot to face yours, his eyes wide in surprise. “I’m in too, I guess.”
Mina clapped her hands together. “Okie dokie, zappy, you get us started.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
After being a few hours into the game, Denki was officially dumbed out and Sero was asleep on the couch. Mina giggled, looking over at you. “Okay okay Y/N, truth or dare?”
You hummed, thinking. “Truth.”
Mina groaned. “C’mon, pick dare for once!”
You shook your head. “Please, last time I did, you had me eat a spoonful of that random shit Kirishima had in his fridge.”
Kirishima chuckled, “I swear to you, it’s Bakugou’s.”
Mina sighed. “Fine. Back in your UA days, was there ever someone you had a crush on?”
Your face grew red as a blush laid across your cheeks. “What?”
Mina teased you, “A crush! You got to build hero gear for all those classmates and see them in their trained glory. . .you had to have liked someone.”
“I mean, there was someone. But it’s long done, they wouldn’t have liked me anyway and we’re grown up now.”
Mina pouted. “C’mon, Y/N, that isn’t true. You’re so pretty, any guy would have liked you! Who was it?”
You inhaled a deep breath, looking at the ground, Kirishima and Mina’s eyes both peering daggers into you.
Denki, finally coming back to reality, slurred his words together. “It was definitely me, wasn’t it?”
You shook your head. “In your dreams.”
Denki pouted, but Kirishima let out a breath of relief. His chances of knowing you maybe had liked him back at one point was the right amount of reassurance he needed.
You looked at Mina. “If I tell you, you have to swear to me you’ll keep quiet.”
Mina motioned a zipper over her lips. “Sister’s honor.”
You lean over your end of the couch, pressing your face against Mina's ear. You cup your hands, whispering into her ear the name she was waiting for.
And like gears working in clockwork, Mina was working on the ultimate plan to get the two of you alone.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Kirishima, truth or dare?”
“Dare. Hit me with the best you got.” It was well into the early hours of the morning now, the hero gala long over. You still were at Kirishima’s house, playing truth or dare. You were sitting closer to Kirishima now, sharing a blanket over the two of you, legs brushing softly. His hand was constantly inches from yours, the idea of holding it constantly toying in the back of his mind.
“7 Minutes in Heaven with Y/N.”
Both of your jaws practically hit the floor, a deep crimson spreading over both of your cheeks. You looked away from Kirishima, trying to hide your fluster. He placed a gentle hand on your knee, speaking to you softly. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can take you home right now if you want.”
Thoughts spread through your mind, deciding what to do. You liked Kirishima, you had for years now. You did at UA when you worked to design his hero gear, and your affections never wore off, watching him do his job as a hero sidekick only fueling the admiration you had for him.
“I’m okay with it.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The closet in Kirishima’s room smelled like fresh laundry, his calonge, and teen-turned-young-adult pheromones. It was dark, you were hardly able to make out the tall and well-built man in front of you, his muscles and long mane outlined softly. He went to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally bumping your smaller form. He rushed out a frantic apology, the blush growing on both of your faces.
“Hey, Y/N, who was it you liked at UA?”
You looked away from him, trying to hide your face. You mumbled softly to yourself some answer he wasn’t able to hear.
“What was that?”
You remained quiet, not budging. Kirishima gulped, swallowing the massive lump of pride that was making his mouth dry. “I guess a closet during a game of truth or dare is a pretty good time to tell you,” Kirishima fumbled over his words a little, grabbing for your free hand. “I always sort of liked you. I mean, I liked you when we were kids at UA. But then we graduated, but, I guess I never really stopped. I’m not sure how manly that is-”
“I like you too.”
“...but you probably like heroes like Midoriya or Bakugou- wait what?” Kirishima stopped his rambling, trying to find your eyes in the dark. He locked onto the faint glimmer of your eyes in the dark. He was always one to think that being manly meant taking a risk from time to time, and he was everything that was manly.
Kirishima pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours. The hand that wasn’t holding yours wandered to cup your face, holding it close to him. You gasped into the kiss, his sudden embrace taking you for a surprise. His lips were surprisingly soft, tasting faintly of cherries and champagne. The kiss was initially gentle, but, feeling your body press flesh against his, Kirishima dipped your head, deepening the kiss.
The hand that was grabbing yours found its way to your waist, tugging you closer to him. You sighed into the kiss, Kirishima’s breath warm against your skin. His tongue gently brushed across your bottom lip, his teeth accidentally grazing yours in his rushed attempt to draw you both even closer.
You pulled away first, looking up at Kirishima with half-lidded eyes, painting slightly. You licked your lips, taking in the remaining taste of his cherry taste. Kirishima let out a husky and shaky breath, still holding your waist. He blinked a few times, realization hitting him over what he had done.
"Oh my God, Y/N, I am so sorry, it isn't manly to not ask for consent first and-"
"Kirishima, it's okay. I agreed to come into this closet with you like we were kids or something."
Kirishima pulled you against him again, hovering his face against your ear. His voice was soft, growing husky with his hushed volume.
"Then, can I kiss you again?"
You nodded softly, anticipation growing.
"Perfect." Kirishima grabbed your face, smashing his lips into yours. Your hands traveled to hang off his neck, gently toying with his long locks. Kirishima gently moved his hand from your waist, letting it rest on your lower back as he pulled you even closer to him. His tongue licked your bottom lip, gently pulling it with his bottom lip. You mewled softly into the kiss, letting his tongue meet yours as it lapped up your mouth.
Needing air, Kirishima pulled off from your kiss, going to press kisses along your jawline and neck. He pressed fast and quick butterfly kisses to your neck, your hands tugging at his hair. He grunted, frustrated with the restraints of his hoodie you were wearing. You gently pushed him off, pulling his hoodie over your head, landing somewhere amongst his closet. Kirishima smiled at your now exposed top, your breasts filling out the bra you were wearing.
"You are absolutely stunning." He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "Can we keep going?"
You nodded, and Kirishima took no time going back to kissing your neck, this time leaving sloppy open kisses, his tongue leaving wet and sloppy marks along your skin. His teeth grazed at your skin ever so slightly, sending shivers up your spine. His teeth grazed over your sensitive spot as you moaned out involuntarily. Your hand quickly shot up to cover your mouth, aware of the fact that people were sitting in Kirishima's living room, possibly hearing you.
Kirishima pulled away, looking at you confused. He gently moved your hand from your mouth. "Why would you want to be quiet? You sounded so pretty?"
Kirishima, without hesitation, nipped at the sensitive part of your neck, desperate to hear you moan again. He kept nipping at your neck, sucking at the skin softly to sooth it. Your little mewls and moans nagging him on and on.
**************
Kaminari looked up from his watch. "Mina it's been forever, go let them out."
Mina, pressed against the door, giggled as she returned back to Kaminari and Sero, who was now awake again.
"No way! Those two are totally going at it. I successfully am the new cupid boys!"
Sero groaned. "Are we going to stay here all night then? I don't want to hear that all night."
Mina shook her head. "No, we'll leave then be."
The trio showed themselves out, but not before Mina could slip a couple pain killers and condoms into your belongings on the way out.
******
Kirishima's hands dipped to your ass, lifting you up. He held you one handed, his strong arms and large hands being bigger than your small form. You pressed lazy kisses to his neck as he fumbled for the doorknob behind him, trying to open the door to his bedroom.  
After you had kissed up and down his jaw and neck, leaving smears of lipstick from the hero gala, Kirishima was able to get the door open. He threw you gently onto the bed, crawling on top of you. If you hadn’t already realized how massive this man’s form was now, you definitely made the connection when he was looming over you. His chest heaved heavily, the muscles in his arms and under his shirt contracting and rippling. His hair was long, falling into his face.
“Kirishima, what if they’re still here…”
Through heavy breaths, he kissed on your neck again, using the same butterfly kisses as before. “Don’t care.”
You hummed at the pleasant feeling of his soft kisses on your skin and the light tickling of his hair grazing your cheeks. “We should check though… they may be worried.”
Kirishima pulled his head back, looking behind him at the door. “Mina?” He yelled out, waiting for a response. “Nothing. It’s just us baby. Are you okay with that?”
You nodded, giving him permission to keep going. His hands traveled up your waist and sides, landing next to your breasts. His locked his lips to yours, his tongue wasting no time dipping into your mouth. Kirishima moved his hands to gently cup your chest over your bra, squeezing softly. A small moan escaped through your mouth, your breasts becoming sensitive under his touch. Your hands traced over his chest and arms, fingertips taking their time to feel each of his muscles. They found themselves in his hair again, pulling at it gently as you raked your hands through it. A shallow moan left Kirishima's lips as he pulled away from you, gently tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away. He looked at you with lidded eyes, a hunger glistening over his face. He looked at you with that same charming smile he always had, pulling his shirt over his chest. Your eyes widened at the sight of him. He had definitely grown since he was in high school all those years ago. He was built like a greek god, his pecks large and his muscles toned. Your fingertips gently felt up his chest and abdomen, shivers traveling up Kirishima’s spine.
“You’re beautiful, Eijiro.”
“Eijiro? We’re that close already?”
You giggled. “I mean, by the way you grabbed my chest, I would think so.”
Kirishima shook his head, lowering his body back down to yours. He kept himself propped up on his arms, leaving soft kisses along your face and jaw before hovering over your ear. “Well, I would love to do more if you let me.” His teeth nipped at the bottom of your ear.
“Please.”
Kirishima’s hands fumbled with the back of your bra, unhooking it and pulling it off you. His hands held your tender breasts. He placed gentle kisses along your chest, fingers toying softly with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over the sensitive buds, pulling them ever so gently. Soft moans sounded from you, only pushing Kirishima further with his teasing.
He looked at you with a wink and a smirk, before placing a gentle kiss over one of your breasts, sucking on it gently. His tongue worked circles around your nipple, your body squirming slightly under his touch. He tugged at it gently with his teeth, pulling away and giving the other breast the same attention. Your hands pulled at his hair, a grunt sounding out over your breast when you found a sensitive spot on his head.
He pulled up, admiring your form under him. Your face was pink with blush, your hair falling in a mess over his face, your lipstick smudged around your lips. Small bruises were adorning your neck and chest, breasts slick with his spit.
“You are absolutely perfect, sweetheart. The best thing I have ever seen.”
Eijiro moved his hands around the sweatpants you had borrowed, pulling them off your legs. His hands grazed the side of your leg, following up from your ankle to you hips. “So, so beautiful.”
He placed gentle kisses along your inner thighs, gently massaging them with his hands. His face was ever so close to your clothed folds, the teasing leaving you a mess. Kirishima took you by surprise, biting down on your thighs. Your moan was louder than any had been so far, the pain being laced with pleasure. You would definitely be able to see his bite marks and a bruise in the morning.
“You like that, huh? You like when I mark you up, make you all mine?”
You nodded, eyes closing as Kirishima bit down on your other thigh as you moaned out in pleasure. He placed gentle kisses over the new bitemark, lapping at it gently with his tongue.
His fingers hooked over the band of your underwear. “Is it okay if I keep going, sweetheart? Only if you want me to.”
You nodded your head, trying to rub your thighs together to get any sort of friction to aid your growing needs.
“Let me hear you, baby. Can I keep going?”
“God, yes Eijiro, please keep going.”
Kirishima smiled and pulled off your underwear, throwing it aside somewhere. His thumb gently felt along your folds, grazing across your clit. “God, every inch of you is absolute perfection. You're so pretty, baby.
You mewled at his touch, your folds already wet in anticipation. Kirishima dragged his tongue across your folds, lapping gently, teasing you. He was practically purring against you, losing his mind. He had never, ever, thought the girl he liked the most would be so completely unraveled under him. He sucked against your clit, moans and strings of babbled phrases leaving your mouth.
“Stop teasing me, Eijiro. Please, give me more.”
He pulled away, blowing softly against you, the cold air sending you squirming again. “So greedy, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”
He rolled your clit with the pad of his thumb, moving it in soft circles. Your waist bucked forward under his touch, a growing tension in your stomach. Kirishima gently placed two fingers in you, pumping them out gently. You moaned, the stretch of his large fingers was absolutely unraveling. He pumped them in and out slowly, wanting you to get adjusted the best you could. He watched as you clenched around his digits. His thrusts turned to a scissoring motion as he added a third finger. The new stretch was absolutely mind numbing. He pumped the three fingers in and out of you, barely grazing the spot that needed him most. You bucked forward to him, trying to lower yourself further onto your fingers. Kirishima watched with intention, thrusting his fingers in deeper and faster. He hit the spot you needed, the moan leaving your lips was sinful and the best thing he had ever heard.
“Right there, Eijiro. Please, right there.”
“Is that good, baby? Do you feel good?” Kirishima’s voice was low, a practical growl. You mewled, legs shaking.
“I, I think I’m close.”
"That's okay, you can come when you're ready. I want you to feel good."
Kirishima thrusted his fingers in and out of you, curling them against your g-spot. You felt a knot grow in your stomach, snapping as Kirishima rubbed against your clit. Your body shook as you came, moaning his name.
Kirishima pulled his fingers out gently, locking eyes with you as he licked your juices off his fingers, sucking them slowly and licking them clean. He licked a clean stripe against your folds, sucking any remaining juices from you. You mewled and moaned, sensitive to his touch.
"You taste so good, so perfect, Y/N." Kirishima's face was covered in your slick and sweat, your lipstick still smeared on his neck. His hair was a mess, tangled from where your hands had been tugging at it.
You sat up a little, "Can I take care of that?" You glanced down at the tent that was straining against his pants.
"Only if you want." Kirishima pulled you closer to him, sitting you on his lap at the end of the bed, moving you around with ease. His head rested against your ear, voice low. "I want you to feel good, sweetheart."
You pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, sliding off his lap and sitting on your knees on the ground. You felt the fabriced bulge, watching as Kirishima shivered, eyes never leaving you. You slowly undid his belt, pulling his pants off him, letting them rest at his feet. His erection sprang through his boxers, precum peaking through. You licked a strip over, the fabric growing damp under your touch. Kirishima's grip tightened on the sheets of the bed. You palmed the length, trying to rub it, but it was honestly much to large for one hand to manage. Your mind was putty imagining how much he was packing.
You hooked the band of his boxers around your fingers, pulling them off his legs. Your eyes widened, gawking at the sight of him. He was, large, to say the least. You honestly weren't sure if you could manage him.
"Like what you see, baby?" Kirishima smirked down at you, eyebrows raised.
You nodded, rubbing a circle around his tip with your thumb. Kirishima let out a shaky breath, his composer slowly breaking.
You tried to stroke him up and down, your hand unable to fully wrap around his shaft. You pumped up and down gently, picking up speed slowly. Kirishima threw his head back, mumbling your name under his breath.
You took him into your mouth slowly, tounge swirling around his tip.
"Fuck, Y/N" Kirishima's voice was breathy and full of need.
You bobbed your head up and down his length slowly, trying to take in as much as you could. When you hollowed out your cheeks, taking in enough of him that you hit the back of your throat, Kiri let out one of the most sinful moans you had heard. He was one of the last people you would expect to be so vocal, but if you said it wasn't the hottest thing you've heard, you would be lying.
Kirishima grabbed onto a bunch of your hair, his hand massive against your hair. He pulled you gently up and down his length, guiding you through what felt good.
"Just like that, baby. Good girl."  
You grew faster, stroking the lengths you couldn't reach with your mouth. You felt him twitch in your mouth, his grip on on your head tighter.
"I'm so close, Y/N. Fuck, you're so good. Take me like the pretty girl you are."
You stroked him faster, licking against him as he moved in and out of your face. You watched his face contort as he came in your mouth. You liked your lips, swallowing his load the best you could. You coughed a little, not anticipating so much. Kirishima panted, relieved. His eyes widened, realizing what happened. He looked at you, leftovers come sitting on your face.
"Oh my God, i'm so sorry. Hold on-"
Kirishima pulled a towel out of the closet, cleaning your face off.
"You don't have to apologize. I just hope I did okay?"
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You were perfect. Thank you."
He helped you stand, holding your waist. "If it isn't too much too soon, we can shower and you can maybe sleep over?"
"I would like that, Eijiro."
163 notes · View notes
granger-or-garcia · 3 years
Text
Just Friends?
hermione x fem!reader
contains- kissing, pining, wlw, ignoring, angst, injury, arguing
first post :)
“Please Ron, enough with it, we get it, you never fancied Krum. In fact, it was quite apparent you hated him.” I laugh with my friends around the warm fire of the Gryffindor common room. Harry, Ron, and I are waiting for Hermione to finally finish reading in the library. She does this most days we try to hang out together, but I don’t really mind, her pretty smile and kind heart make up for her absence.
“Oi, Y/N, do you still fancy Hermione? What’s this, year four?” Harry chuckles at the thought of me liking one of my best friends since second year. 
“Yeah, I’ve kind of accepted that she’s never going to see me that way, but maybe we’re better off as just friends.” I sigh as Harry and Ron start talking about their hatred of Snape and I go back to my quidditch plays, being the new captain always keeps me busy. 
After about an hour, Hermione comes bustling into the common room, her eyes barely seeing over the stack of books she got. She doesn’t even acknowledge us as she rushes up the stairs to our dorm room and puts the books away.
“Nice of you to join us, Granger.” I move over on the couch so she can sit next to me. 
“If you must know, I was doing some research for our potions assignment, which I doubt any of you have even bothered to look at.” The boys roll their eyes and announce they’re both heading to bed, even though it was just 9:30. I know they do this to let me be alone with Hermione, it absolutely drives them crazy that I don’t ask her out, and they’re the only two people in the world who know I like her. 
“Ready for the big game tomorrow, eh Y/N?” She asks me that like she hasn’t been ignoring me for two whole weeks now, but I don’t mention it.
“Yeah, and don’t worry, the Slytherins have nothing on us with these new plays I thought up.” I love how interested she seems with my boring quidditch talk. After chatting for a while, mostly about school, we decide to head upstairs to our dorm. I love our dorm, it’s just Hermione and I so it’s always very quiet. She quickly undresses and puts on her pajamas. I do the same and we both brush our teeth, say goodnight, and fall asleep.
I get up the next day, Hermione is still peacefully asleep, I decide to let her sleep in. I get dressed, grab my quidditch bag, and head down to the Great Hall.
I meet the rest of the team down there. Ron, Fred, George, Katie, Harry, and Angelina are all sitting together and eating, I sit down next to Harry and starting eating some toast.
“Hey Cap, ready to play?” Fred smiles at me with a mouth full of pancakes.
“That’s gross Freddie, mind your manners. But yes, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I love calling him that. It always makes him blush. The team goes back to regular pre-game chatter as we all finish up our breakfast. We all get up to go down to the pitch for the game. In the locker room I give one of my signature pep talks and we walk out onto the field.
I go to the center to shake hands with the Slytherin captain. The crowd is roaring above us. I can hear Hermione’s voice above the rest, it helps me keep calm. Both teams get on their brooms as the game starts. A loud whistle blows and I catch the quaffle, passing it to Angelina, who ducks under a bludger and throws the ball straight through the center ring. The crowd erupts in cheering and clapping. She takes a victory lap and Katie swerves through two Slytherin players to stop them from passing. Suddenly, I get struck with a bludger and fall off my broom onto the cold, wet grass. The crowd goes silent. The team surrounds me, making sure I’m not hurt, and I can hear Hermione running out to see me, calling out my name. The Syltherin team is snickering on the other end of the pitch.
“Y/N! Are you alright, let me see, where does it hurt?” Hermione is freaking out.
“I’m ok, calm down.” I give her a hug and get up. Truthfully, my left arm is in agonizing pain, but telling the truth would cause us to forfeit the match, and it’d worry Hermione far too much. I get back on my broom and the game resumes. All I can do now is hope Harry finds the snitch soon. Right as I finish that thought, I see the Slytherin chasers getting closer to Ron, he misses the save by an inch, the Slytherins all shout and cheer for their housemates. All at once a red and green blur is flying around the rest of the players. Harry reaches out, so close to the snitch. He dives forward and grabs it. The sound that followed that was the loudest I’ve ever heard. Harry took a victory lap before heading back down to the ground. Finally, I can tell Madam Pomfrey about my arm. I wave back at my team as she takes me back up to the hospital wing, lecturing me about why I shouldn't have kept playing. I’m lying in a hospital bed, waiting for the potion I had drink to take affect. Abruptly, the doors swung open as Hermione came in and wrapped her arms around me.
“You fool, you could’ve killed yourself, what were you thinking?” She hates how reckless I am. “I’m just so glad you’re alright Y/N, the team says hello, there’s a party in full swing in the common room, and no, you can’t go.” I sulk, Gryffindor parties are some of the funnest things at Hogwarts. Hermione gets up and starts speaking to Madam Pomfrey.
“Well, what are you waiting for, let’s go.” She smiles as she helps me out of bed and to the common room. When to door opens, we’re greeted with blaring music, food, drinks, and people cheering my name. Hermione fends off the team and the rest of our housemates as she leads me upstairs.
“Well, we’re stuck up here until this party ends, so you better get cozy Y/N” Hermione smiles as she sits not next to me in my bed.
“Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for blowing you off these past few weeks, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. It was so scary to see you fall like that Y/N, I’m so glad you’re ok.” Hermione smiles at me. I pull her into a long hug.
“It’s alright, I know what it’s like to have a lot on your plate. You can always tell me what’s going on, you know that.” She smiles and after a few seconds she decides she wants to tell me.
“Before I tell you, you have to promise not to tell another soul, ok Y/N?” She looks serious.
“I pinky swear.” I say, holding out my pinky for her.
“No, let’s make a forehead promise, it’s twice as strong.” She smiles. I start giggling, it was quite apparent she had just made this up. She pushes her forehead against mine. Once our foreheads touched, the giggles stopped and we looked into each others eyes. Hermione bites her lip and our faces are now centimeters apart. I go in to kiss her, she kisses me back, and wraps her arms around my neck. I put my hands on her hips. This is so great, I’m actually kissing Hermione. We pull apart after we both run out of air. She gets up suddenly and runs out of the dorm. I try to chase after her but she’s too fast. She pushes through gaggles of people at the party and runs out the door.
Ch 2 soon :)
75 notes · View notes
queerchoicesblog · 3 years
Text
The Movie Party (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 17)
Tumblr media
So, folks, the SC Titanic Zetta x Adele Series has come to an end: this is the final chapter. It’s time for Zetta and Adele to have a reunion at last. 
I want to thank all those who supported this crazy project of mine. This series has been quite important and will somehow still be, even if the original story is no longer available and it’s the end. But I will be grateful to the authors who crafted it: it was one of the few times I felt truly seen as represented as a wlw in a game. 
You must forgive me if this chapter will be a bit longer but I wanted to bid a farewell to the various characters who made this story one hard to forget. It’s the finale: you either go big or go home, right? And you will find the explanation of the title of the series, if you haven’t figured it out already...
Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!
Stay tuned next week for the Epilogue!
Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​  @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​ @wonder-falcon​
Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​
➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16
___________________________
The night of the Surviving the Titanic premiere, I walk into the venue at the arm of Richard, my little Napoleon in tow, 'fashionably late' as my fiancé puts it. We are greeted by the flash powder and shouts of the reporters and the awe of the guests gathered in the dashing foyer, waiting in line to show a steward their invitation. I wave at them, smiling and searching the crowd, while Richard tips his hat. Sadly, I do not see any familiar face or I don't recognise any before we walk past them and disappear behind the red velvet curtains of the auditorium. Another steward takes care of our coats while a colleague leads us to the honorary seats reserved for us and the rest of the crew.
We seat and wait. To keep my mind busy, I fix Richard's bow tie leaning to the side. I chat a bit with Sabine and compliment her outfit once again: I'm touched she decided to wear the pearl headband I gifted her when I made it into the movie industry. A birthday gift: she kept repeating she couldn't accept a gift like that but eventually I prevailed. Seeing it again after all those years...I'm so grateful she didn't listen to me and refused to bring it with her on our trip to Europe: "I'd rather not, Madam: I don't think I will have occasion to wear it", she said. I'm incredibly happy she deemed this night a right occasion. I'm so used to see her in her maid uniform that I forgot how she looks in an evening gown and the little detail makes her look like the friend she is to me. I'm pretty happy and proud of my outfit too. I picked it myself: I knew exactly what I wanted when I commissioned it to a New York fashion designer à la mode. I don't usually wear black, I much prefer colors, but lately I've been reconciling with it. And it seemed appropriate for the night: black is the color of mourning, right? What is tonight, this movie if not a commemoration of all those who aren't with us tonight, all those who sacrificed their lives for people like me and all the other survivors we managed to trace back, gathered here tonight? I'm not naive enough to ignore there is more to it, something less poetic, but I hold onto the remembrance of the lives lost. Onto that night: I hope the meaning of my sapphire necklace, the same one I wore on my birthday night, is not lost to those who were there. A hand on my shoulder, a gentle touch. As my heart races a bit faster I turn...but no, it's only my colleague, my fictional sister greeting me at the arm of John, Richard's right hand. I kiss her cheeks and invite the two of them to join us. She is visibly excited when she announces that the foyer is packed: she had never seen a crowd like that. It's a delight to hear but I can only hope in that crowd are a few familiar faces I long to see. One dear face I desperately long to see. One last time, at least if that's what it must be but I need to see her, to make amends and tell her the truth. She must know: I owe her that. When the stewards eventually open the velvet curtains, the auditorium fills fast, women in fur stoles and men in tuxedo swarm in like bees, chatting lively as they take a seat. I stretch my neck to see if I can find her face but my eyes only meet tycoons, socialite and strangers. Is that man over there checking the night programme Felix? I certainly hope so: if he's here, Lawrence must be too. And God knows how I need him tonight. After what feels like an eternity, it's time. The premiere begins. "Here goes nothing" Richard sighs, taking my hand into his as they dim off the lights. I wish I could have spotted Adele before darkness fall on the auditorium and the projector starts crackling. Apparently, uncertainty must torture me a bit longer.
As story unfolds on screen, I hear the audience hold their breath in awe and fear and for a moment I am reminded why I love my job: to give people feelings, to make them live lives they would never live even if for a fleeting moment. Their wonder, their tears of sorrow and joy are the best reward, the only reward I look for, even more important than the generous checks I receive for my performances: it makes me feel alive, it makes me believe that for a moment our hearts beat at unison and we're connected. When my character and her sister hug in the lifeboat and watch the sinking ship, the muffled sounds and sniffling around me tell me that no matter how hard performing that scene was, the message got trough. I am incredibly happy about this.
After the screening and a round of thunderous applauses, stewards lead us to the theater lobby. I have a look around while reporters and guests join us. Richard insisted to take care of the decorations and the whole movie party himself...well, with his staff: he claimed that he had asked of me too much already and he was happy to help and give Sabine a few days off. My little Napoleon was taken aback by the decision: she has always supervised every party, every mundane event. I look at her and I have to stifle a laugh at her unimpressed face. She's right: just like the picture, the decorations aren't grand enough, not luxurious enough and I have no doubt she would have done so much better than this. There isn't even music... I hear the clinking sound of camera and flash powder igniting and before I know it, a bunch of reporters are taking pictures. I put on my best smile and pose with Richard. When he agrees we offered enough coverage of the events for the moment, he guides me away from them towards a waiter in high uniform offering champagne glasses. He hands me one and takes one for himself. "To our success, to our night" he smiles, rising his glass. I repeat his toast and we cling glasses. I have just tasted the cold alcoholic sweetness of it that guests approach us. I do my best to be polite and charming: I know it's my duty even if it distracts me from my most important search for my love. Is she even here? Maybe she just tossed my invitation into the fireplace after my disappearance...oh, no, I don't wanna picture such thing! And I know it's selfish of me, maybe even my note was selfish...it probably would make things easier for her if I disappeared and let her live her life, if I let her forget me soon. Strip away the memory of the time we shared together like a band-aid. Maybe even engaging romantically with her was selfish of me in my situation...oh, I'm tormenting myself again! Focus, Zetta, focus! The guests profusely compliment and comments are awfully predictable: the jewelled wife of a well known mogul dramatically claims that the picture was "a true masterpiece" and she totally felt "as if she was there too that night". A young socialite nods and echoes her words: is she her daughter? I flash them a smile and say I am overjoyed to hear so, it was the effect we were hoping for. I am stuck into conversations like these until the party is in full swing. My head almost hurt at the insane amount of stale nonsense I hear: maybe Lawrence was right when he once said that the problem with fiction is that the audience hardly takes it as such and cannot distinguish between documentary and fictional movies. They will go to bed tonight truly convinced they know what we survivors felt that night, they will tell friends encouraging them to go see the picture (hopefully) but the truth is...they know nothing. They have no idea how terrifying it was, how gruesome. They have no idea what suddenly not knowing if you or your dear ones will see another dawn or hearing gunshots and screams of terror all around you feel. It's like ice flowing into your veins instead of blood, a clutching fear I will never forget. Their heart would have broken in a thousand pieces too hearing the despair in the voices of the poor souls swimming in the frozen water begging for a help that never came.  Maybe this picture was a mistake after all, I don't know. I keep jumping from one conversation to another, peering across the crowd gathered on the balcony and below but I cannot spot anyone I know. Instead, a young man out of the blue asks me news of James: they're acquaintances and he was hoping to meet him here tonight. I sense Richard tensing up at my side as he sinks his glass of champagne. He was on the ship too, the young man continues, is he alright. I have no idea if the rumor of what happened at my birthday party has spread or if it faded away after the tragedy so I offer him a quick smile. I conceal how his reminding me of my fallen little prince is making my wound bleed again. James is fine as far as I know - I tell him - but sadly couldn't make it tonight, a previous engagement he couldn't postpone. My merciful lie seems to be enough for him as he tips his hat and asks me to bring him his greetings. As we part from them, I excuse myself and head away from the crowd "to fix my hair and rouge". Thankfully, Richard understands. He takes my glasses and places a quick kiss on my temple, whispering that it's alright, he will cover for me. He winks at me before greeting a colleague. I make a beeline for the restroom to catch some breath: I'm starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by this party but I must be patient, this night is nowhere close to be over soon. I take a deep breath, one last check and return to the lobby. 
At the corner of my eye, I finally notice a familiar couple quietly having a drink in a defiled spot by the railing. Friendly faces, at last! I call their names and they turn. "Here's the belle of the ball!" Lawrence exclaims, approaching. He is charming as usual: he takes my hand and gallantly raised to his lips, smiling. He still looks tired and older than he actually is. I pull him into a quick hug. "You came, you old dog!" I joke, making him laugh. "And you too!" I wink at Felix who blushes slightly. When we part, I throw the two of them a look that - I hope - will convey my deep affection more than my words can. "I am incredibly happy you are here tonight" I smile softly. "We were incredibly happy to receive your invitation to the party, dear Zetta" Lawrence twists my words with his kindness. I take a look at him and flash him a sheepish smile. "You hated it, I know" He sighs before laughing, a gentle laugh. I speak again before he can formulate an excuse. "I can only hope I made up for it. My performance at least, the champagne..." "You were magnificent, Zetta. As usual" His smile is genuine, affectionate. Sweet dear Lawrence... "Tell you what, I had to give the gentleman here my handkerchief in the finale" he adds, a playful yet equally affectionate smile on his lips, nodding to his companion. Felix sighs, shaking his head. He cannot refrain a smile. I laugh and hug him. "That is such a great compliment, thank you, darling!" He's always been a big fan of me, he notes and Lawrence is quick to confirm it. We share a long look, quiet, safely away from the loud crowd. When will I see the two of them again? "Lots of people here tonight" Lawrence comments, after a moment, his blue eyes roaming the lobby packed with guests. "Yeah..." I sigh. "Yet you are the first friendly faces I bump into tonight. Well, apart from Sabine. Can you believe it?". I'm not surprised that he understands the unsaid. I'm relieved, actually: concealing my vulnerability but not to the point a man like him cannot sense it, underneath my words. He shares a quick look with Felix before reaching for my hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Maybe it's just because you got stuck with those socialites in high hats and furs and embarrassingly expensive jewels" He winks at me and I laugh, a liberating laugh I needed so much. "Maybe" I concede before adding, hesitant. "I don't even know what I should hope for, Lawrence". He considers my words and when his eyes meet mine again, I don't want to let go of his hand. I want to hold onto him. "The night is not over, right?". I smile weakly at him: he's right but I have no idea if it's a good thing or not. Maybe it will only mean my agony is far from ending anytime soon. He seems to be reading my own thoughts. "Chin up, dear Zetta. And if you need us, we will be downstairs. Just say the word" Sometimes I wonder what I did good to have a man like him being so kind and thoughtful with me. I nod and try to recollect myself. I wish I could stay with them a bit longer but I see reporters approaching and a proper host cannot disappear forever. Sadly I must go, they know it. After one last lingering look, I take my leave. Evading the reporters is a lost war, so I surrender and pose again. How many pictures do they need, goddammit? Oh boy, this flock of vultures wants statements too. Fine, I know what to say. Marvel at how many people gather here tonight, tell how important this movie is to you, how you hope it will help bring along the memory of the tragedy...and start over. Then, with nonchalance and a charming, unreadable smile, walk away. Thank God, it works. I look for Richard or Sabine but they are both nowhere in sight. I shake hands with a couple of New York socialites when I hear a voice behind me calling my name, quietly almost shyly. I turn and see a young woman in a floral dress, red hair in elegant waves and big green eyes looking at me in awe. "Miss Serda, I just wanted to thank you for your invitation and say how flawless your performance was tonight". I flash her a smile. Have we met already? I cannot tell... "Did you enjoy the picture?" "Yes, quite a lot! Even if it's not the same, of course..." she lowers her eyes as if ashamed to anger me with such an undeniable truth. "Were you on the ship?" I inquiry, in my most reassuring voice. "Yes" she nods. "I was..." she pauses before shaking her head, a brighter smile relaxing her face. "Actually I was Adele's cabinmate. Your secretary's cabinmate, I mean". I gape and take a better look at the redhead in front of me. But of course! I saw her on the deck with a Adele as we were playing shuffleboard with the Baron. I tell her so, hoping to make her happy. It works, apparently: she looks pleasantly surprised I remember her. "You're...Clorinda!" I exclaim, reminiscing Lucille's words at our dinner, when she recognised Adele's dress as one of her own creation, a gift to her favourite model. She laughs, but her laugh is weak. "I was Clorinda, yes". "Lucille sang your praises during our journey" I smile. "Will I see you soon at her upcoming show?". "I'm afraid not, Miss Serda" her lips twist in a pained smile. "I no longer work for Mrs Duff-Gordon". Seeing my surprised face, she continues.   
"I had an accident during the sinking. I am no longer suited to work as a mannequin" she explains, quickly lowering her eyes before meeting mine again and adding, cheerfully: "But it's alright. I am here, I am alive and I am in America...it's all that matters, right?". We smile weakly at each other for a moment. I feel sorry for this girl even if she seems stronger than she looks. "Adele talked of you" I tell her and I'm glad to see the mix of surprise and excitement on her face. "You're the big fan of mine who kindly borrowed the posters and memorabilia for my birthday party at the Cafe Parisien. Seeing the old and new posters, reading the little notes you wrote...it meant so much to me, truly. I have never had a chance to thank you properly but I will always remember your kindness to me". A hint of red spreads over her cheeks as she smiles a big bright smile. "Oh, it was nothing, Miss Zetta...I was honoured to give my humble contribution to your birthday. If it made you happy, I'm happy, overjoyed!". I laugh softly at her contagious enthusiasm. Adele told me it was quite endearing and she was right. Her cabinmate speaks again, still gleaming but recovering the initial shyness. "Miss Serda, I was wondering if I could...well, if I could get your autograph? I was hoping to ask you during the crossing but then.." "But of course!" I smile and beckon a steward over. When he's back with a promotional picture and a pen, I look back at my fan. "What name should I write?" "Oh, Lena. Lena Montague but Lena is just perfect". I write my dedication and hand it to her. She takes a step forward, limping a little, and I get a glimpse of her wooden leg as she looks down at the picture with reverence. "There, for you. And your new collection, maybe" I wink. 
She thanks me but I insist that it's my line. And a sudden idea crosses my mind. "Thank you for coming, Miss Montague. I am glad I got a chance to make your acquaintance. And I was wondering...I remember expressing the wish to invite you for breakfast after being informed of your lovely gesture, to thank you. Would you accept a belated invitation? Let's say next week?". I have never seen such starry eyes on a face of a fan. "And who would be so foolish to turn down an invitation from you, Miss Serda? Sure thing!" "Excellent! I'll send my maid to you then, she's here somewhere...enjoy the party, Miss Montague". I kiss her cheeks and offer her one last smile before going back to my guests. I search Sabine but I find Richard instead, who introduces me to a couple of survivors he shook hands with. It doesn't take long before I realise why he wanted me to meet them: they say they were on my lifeboat and it was thanks to my intervention that they survived that awful night. They will be eternally grateful. I...I don't know what to say. I see Richard smiling proudly down at me while a faint blush spread over my cheeks. I tell them I am sure they would have helped too if the roles were reversed and wish them a happy new life in America. As they part, I finally spot my little Napoleon approaching, imperturbable as the Sphinx, quietly observing the stewards moving from one side of the hall to other. You can take away her apron but not her inquisitive gaze, I suppose: no rest for Sabine... "Ah, here you are!" I greet her, before teasing her. "I feared I lost you in the crowd" She offers me a quick amused smile. "I wasn't lost, Madam, just mingling. An impressive crowd tonight, n'est pas?" "Beyond our wildest expectations, yes!" Richard confirms, eyes roaming the upper floor.   
"I am glad to hear, Monsieur King. A well deserved success" my maid bows her head, concealing once again the disappointment for not being involved in the party setting. Then she turns towards me and continues, with a nonchalance that is only pretended. I know it quite well... "By a fortunate coincidence, I bumped into Miss Carrem just a moment ago". I can only hope my face doesn't betray my feelings, the turmoil her words provoked inside me. Adele is here, she came. I will get to see her at least one last time, I will talk to her. My words will be a poor consolation to her maybe but...I will see her again. "Carrem...Carrem, Carrem...oh right, your secretary on board, huh?" Richard exclaims but I barely register what he's saying. All I can think of is Adele, Adele here, tonight. Oh God, thank you! "Oui, precisement" my little Napoleon confirms on my behalf as I cannot speak. "An exquisite young lady, if I say so myself. The best candidate we had in ages, Monsieur, and I am not easily impressed, I assure you". Richard says something about how he would love to make her acquaintance and thank Miss Carrem personally but I am not listening just like the night of our arrival when he was stroking my hand but my head was far away with he woman I foolishly a abandoned at the pier. "I left her in the main hall downstairs. She's with her sister" Sabine adds, addressing me. Snapping out of my reverie, I manage to remind Richard that I talked a little about them. They were on my lifeboat too, we stayed together on the Carpathia...but I am extremely grateful to the providential steward who beckons him over. He sighs and excuses himself, saying he will be back before we know it. As soon as he's out of earshot and someone else interrupts me again, I wrap my arm around Sabine's and lead her to the side, by the railing. Now that Richard is gone, I can show my concern more freely. To some extent, obviously but I think I am safe with my little Napoleon. 
"How is she? Did she look alright?" I inquiry, checking over my shoulder. Sabine ponders her words, as if thinking how to describe the impression her brief meeting with Adele left on her. After what feels like an eternity for my tormented heart, she speaks. "If I may, she looks...troubled". I knew it, I feared so. But hearing it put down into words makes me frown. "Troubled? But of course...what a fool I have been! I shouldn't have invited her here tonight, I should have visited her and-" But I can't bring myself to finish my own sentence. "Troubled with grief, I mean. With with the weight of what happened that night. Mourning, you would say, perhaps". Then she sighs, a deep sigh, shaking her head. "It's such a pity to see a young woman like her taking the world over her shoulders, all that sorrow, all that pain". "She wouldn't be Adele if she didn't" I smile, thinking of every time she spoke of her fight for women's rights, the days she spent in jail for it. My sweet revolutionary is indeed a little Atlas and I fear no one can change that, it's simply her nature. But it pains me to see her so miserable and I cannot shake away the feeling that my disappearance played a role in it. At the very least I added salt on her injury. "But Mademoiselle Carrem is strong" Sabine interrupts my somber train of thoughts. "She just needs time, that's all, I think. Time and a little joie de vivre, don't you think, Madam?".   
I smile sadly at her words. "Don't we all need it, ma chére Sabine? A little joie the vivre...". Yes, it certainly would be nice. But is it even possible? Even for people like me and Adele or are we forced to be content with cheap surrogates that keep us floating on the water surface? I wish I had an answer... "I will go talk to her" I sigh, straightening my skirt. "I am sure MademoIselle Carrem will be delighted to see you, Madam". "I hope so, Sabine". Yes, I do hope so. We look at each other for a moment before I speak again. "Oh, before I forget...would you mind getting Miss Montague's address and find out when I can meet her for breakfast next week or so?" I ask, nodding at my fan's figure in the hall downstairs. "And book a table to the Plaza or the St Regis. They're both fine...oh and please, send Miss Montague a poster of Surviving the Titanic. I'll ask Richard to sign it too". I fill her in about the details of Lena's life before the sinking and her troubled arrival: the incident, the loss of her job and the end of her modelling career. Sabine bows her head. "Certament, Madam". "In the meantime, I'll see if I can find a way to do more. I wish I could do more for her, somehow" I continue, lost in my thoughts. My little Napoleon nods and goes quiet, pondering. Around us, the sound of laughters and clinging glasses. When she speaks again, she almost startles me. "I'll be on my way" she announces, standing straighter. Before taking her leave, she looks at me and comments quietly that it has just come to her mind that I still haven't found a new secretary since our arrival. I know that look, that pretended nonchalance once again. As Richard approaches, I give her arm a gentle squeeze, a faint smile crossing my lips. "Go find Miss Montague, Sabine. And not a word on this before I speak to the girl". She throws me a conspiratorial look and walks away. When I turn, Richard is offering me his arm. "Fancy a trip downstairs, darling?". "I thought you never asked!" I smirk, wrapping my arm around his.
As we start walk down the stairs, I can feel my heart beating faster in my chest at the thought of my proximity to Adele, how close we are after all this months...even if it's also different now. But it doesn't matter: I don't want it to matter now...what did she say on the deck of the sinking ship? ‘All I care about is that you're here with me, and safe’. Yes, that it's all I care about too. I...saw her. She's with Hileni by a small table with hors d'ouvres and a pyramid of champagne glasses. Be still my heart, I beg you, be still...but it doesn't listen. I cannot control it anymore now that I know for sure she's here. She's wearing a green dress that it or just perfect for her but it enhances her beauty, if it's even possible. Oh, Adele...you have no idea how badly I have missed you! I feel my face lighten up and my lips curl into a bright, happiest smile. See what hold you have on me, my love? I don't even pay attention to those who greet and part as I walk by: I only have eyes for one guest now, for her. The first who spots me is Hileni: her eyes widen at the sight of me. I suppose she has never seen me in all my glory before; on the Carpathia, even if I was still wearing the outfit of my birthday party underneath the coat a kind fan gave me, I was out of my element just like the rest of us. Adele turns a moment later, following her sister's gaze. When our eyes meet, I almost feel my knees get weak. I hope she can see that this smile is meant for her only. I think she does, she brightens up almost immediately I turn towards Richard. "Will you excuse me a moment? I want to say hi to a dear friend I haven't seen in a while...". Dear friend: the euphemism is an insult to what Adele means to me but it will do. Just like the fiction, it's what the world can take. "Sure, go ahead. I'll go find John" he smiles, parting. I immediately glide over to my love, heart racing in my chest. "Adele"   
I call her name and the sweet sound of her name fills my mouth. I place my hand on her upper arms and kisses both her cheeks. Restraining myself from pulling her into a tight embrace and linger in that closeness is a Herculean effort. Her perfume, the shade of red spreading over her cheeks, her shy smile. How I missed you... "Let's you and I catch up" I say, still smiling so brightly. I turn to Hileni and ask: "Mind if I borrow your sister for a moment?". She nods, still looking awed. Without hesitation, I take Adele's arm and lead her to a corner of the room apart from the other guests. For a moment, none of us can't find words. Funny how words are most difficult to find with those who are dearest to our heart. But I know what it is...I feel it too. The weight of our past between us. The memory of our brief happiness together.   
A last, I summon up enough courage to finally speak. "Ad-" "I-" We start talking at the same time, then burst into laughter. Look at us, two fools lost to love! "I feel...almost nervous. Ridiculous, aren't I?" I keep my smile on but I know, just know she sensed the vulnerability reverberating in my voice who has suddenly lost the confidence I had before with my guests. She smiles too, gesturing that it's alright. "Zetta, it's...so good to see you again". I am sure my mind now is less cheerful. Time for my poor apologies. "I'm sorry, Adele. I should have written or visited" I sigh. "I've just been so busy..." To my surprise, she interrupts me, understanding, smiling. "I understand. You've been making the film, and you're getting married..." But she suddenly lose the train of whatever else she had planned to say. Adele, you and I can try to behave normally around each other, to act as if nothing happened...but we simply fail all the time. Our feelings always get in the way, my love, and God knows if I don't know it too well. And this, this sadness cutting off your words is all my fault. "I know you're upset" I frown.
She meets my eyes again in a silent, unnecessary apology. You have nothing to apologise for, I do. And I owe you the cruel truth, at last. I take in a deep breath to steady myself and let my mask fall. I drop my voice to a whisper so that only she can hear. "I've been agonizing over what I'd say when I saw you. And I never came up with a good answer". Adele, if only you knew the nights I spend writing you the most ardent, sorrowful letters! "I love you. I want to be with you. But this marriage has to go forward or my career's done". Do you understand my impossible position, my dearest? But please, I beg you never doubt my feelings. "Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar...but never doubt I love". When she speaks, her voice is a pained whisper and her words an excruciating plea. "Zetta, please don't do this. I want us to spend our lives together". I couldn't ask for anything better, sweet Adele, but...there is always a cruel but for us. "Even if that life had to be kept secret?" I grimace. "If people knew about us, it would destroy everything I've worked for". Look what malicious rumours brought on Lawrence and Felix even without a solid evidence of their relationship. Look what the world does to people like us. These guests, my adoring fans crowd the movie theaters to see me fall in love with the hero, the dashing heartthrob 'every woman daydream of' without asking me what I really want. They smile and awe at me tonight but they wouldn't hesitate to drag me down into the gutter if they knew who my heart truly belongs to. "I...I can't have both you and my career".
I lower my eyes unable to sustain her gaze any longer. I am so incredibly sorry, Adele, so sorry.... She reaches for my hand, shyly, and I am reminded of the first time she took my hand into hers in my private projection room on board of the Titanic. The soothing warmth of her hand over mine felt so intimate, calming...just like now. I look back at her and I have to fight back tears. She looks over her shoulder then she speaks, her voice low. "I don't care if no one knows about us. All I care about is that there is an us. I need you, Zetta". My eyes widen as I register the meaning of her words. Does she...does she mean it? "Are you sure?" I ask her, unsure whether she is fully aware of what she's proposing. "This won't be like it was on the Titanic, bathhouses and stolen kisses. It won't be easy..." She searches my eyes and nods. I...I would have never thought nor hoped for such a hopeful end of this conversation I feared so much. Oh my dear...not losing Adele, being with Adele! Out of instinct, I move to kiss her but I refrain myself just in time, painfully aware of the surroundings. I must long for your lips a bit longer, my love...but it doesn't matter, we're together now. "We'll need to come up with a plan..." I consider. "How do you feel about being my publicist?". "About as confident as I felt about being your secretary" she beams. I laugh as I laughed with her in the most dire moments...incredible what a light she casts on me, even when I am at my lowest. I regard her fondly as a newfound sweet joie de vivre starts spreading inside me, and I put my hand to her cheek. "This is the happiest I've felt in months...knowing you'll be at my side" I whisper, my voice trembling with the swirl of feelings taking hold of me. "Always" she whispers back, slightly leaning to the touch.
Suddenly we're both brought back to the party by the flash powder igniting around us. As I unwillingly retrieve my hand we're surrounded by journalists shouting my name. I am too overjoyed by our sweet reunion to be annoyed by them. I wish they could have forgotten about me a bit longer, granting me more time with Adele but they are oddly bearable this time.
I see her leaning closer and putting her mouth to my ear. The words she whispers send my heart fluttering. 
"I love you". I turn my face to meet her eyes. I must summon every ounce of strength I have to stop myself from pulling her mouth to mine, pouring my affection on her right in front of the photographers. I see the same restraint in her eyes. There will be other nights for that. Yes, there will other nights... "And I you" I whisper back. My voice is soft, adoring...how could I not adore her? I smile at her one last time before turning to the cameras and bathing into the flash lights. They better capture this moment, I think: I will never be as radiant as I am now. As they keep calling my name and taking picture of me posing, I slowly return to the party I momentarily left for my reunion to Adele. I spot Richard and John lightening cigarettes by the staircase and not far Miss Montague chatting with a man I have never seen before. Sabine is checking herself in a mirror, fixing her headband...a rare moment of vanity for her. Hileni is pondering whether going for the pastry mignons is a bit too much and once saw me looking at her, she shyly waves at me and walks away. To my delight, Lawrence is signing an autograph to a fan, under the proud gaze of Felix, who took a step back. Good old Lawrence... ‘Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached’, he said. And he was right. I used to repeat to myself that you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater. It turns out I was wrong. With her love, I can breathe underwater.  
25 notes · View notes
marvels-writings · 4 years
Text
Genesis
youtube
Wanda Maximoff Masterlist
Requested by: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx : HEEEELLLOOOO hope you are doing superb :D I saw the song requests so, I'm bad at listening to songs but I heard this song and it sounds like quite a good one for this so, may I request Genesis by Dua Lipa with Wanda and a long one please :3
Word Count: 1,802
A/N: I think this is the only song I’ve heard before in my inbox rn. 
‘In the beginning
God created Heaven and Earth
For what it's worth, I think that he might've created you first,’
You hummed the lyrics, your back on a mat as you stargazed with Wanda. She had to leave for a week-long mission tomorrow. So, you wanted to make the best of the time you had till then, which resulted in a blanket fort on the roof of the Avengers compound. 
Music, snacks, and stargazing. Wanda loved it. She lay down next to you, her head rested on your shoulder as she looked up at the stars. You started pointing out the constellations. 
Though, you didn't tell her you had memorized all of the information an hour before to impress her. So far, your plan to impress her and get her to like you was working.
’Just my opinion
Your body is the one paradise that I wanna fly to
Every day and every night’
Video chatting Wanda in the middle of her mission is not your best idea, but it was far from your worst. The witch loved waking up and seeing your texts proposing a Skype call to cheer her up. You had heard how hard the mission was. You wanted to see her happier.
Your calls and texts helped her mood every single day. She wanted to take the first flight back to you.
’I've been sick and tired of running
Chasing all of the flashing lights
These late nights don't mean nothing,’
You weren’t sure what you and Wanda were. Both of you were close friends, but you both felt more than that. Wanda flirted with you more often than you’d care to admit. You returned the flirting, but neither of you were sure what you were.
After Wanda got back from the mission, she was more touchy with you. Flirting at almost every chance she got. It confused you, you didn’t know if it was just friendly flirting or if she wanted to be with you, romantically.
She had spent the night in your room, cuddling. 
But it turned into your first kiss with her. It felt like everything you had ever imagined and more. Her arms around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. Your hands snaking around her waist, keeping her close to you.
Everything felt perfect.
’So I just wanna apologize
I'm sorry, so sorry
I'm sorry, yeah’
Apologizing for your behavior to each other had become the norm at this point. You argued often about your relationship, you had wanted a relationship with her. But Wanda wasn’t ready for it. She wasn’t sure if she was good for you or if she was ready for a relationship
The witch had never been in a relationship before. She knew she loved you, but it scared her. Everyone she had ever loved had died or left her. Wanda didn’t want the same for you.
This wasn’t your first argument about this after Wanda had finally admitted her feelings for you. You wanted to announce your relationship. But she refused. 
’I need your love
And I'm dying for the rush
'Cause my heart ain't got enough’
Dancing, you spun Wanda around in circles on the floor at one of Tony’s parties. After you’d seen a few girls flirting with her, you’d quickly grown possessive and pulled her away from them. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you pressed your front into her back and started swaying to the music.
Both of you noticed the rest of the team staring at you and exchanging money, probably on a bet they had made. Rolling your eyes, you squeezed Wanda’s waist and turned her around.
Wanda wasn’t sure what you were doing, but she didn’t want to stop you. Your body against hers felt too good, it felt right. She didn’t have the heart to pull away from you. Though the witch wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to leave you, and it was scaring her.
’I need your touch
This is getting serious
Tell me that it's not the end of us’
Neither of you wanted this to end. The touching, the kisses, the attention. You loved everything about her, but relationships were complicated. Wanda didn’t want the rules, the complications associated with being in a relationship. She wanted you, but she didn’t know-how.
You knew things would get complicated when you tried to initiate a relationship. But you didn’t expect it to get this complicated. More often than not, you found yourself in your bedroom, Wanda laying on top of you. Staring at the ceiling, you found yourself wishing you could go back to the beginning.
When you first met, before you fell for her and everything got complicated.
’How can we go back to the beginning?
Without you, I've got no air to breathe in
How can we go back to the beginning?’
Running your hand through your hair, you sat down on the bed. Wanda had been arguing with you on coming out with your relationship. You wanted to come out to the rest of the team, but after seeing the press blow up on the dance you had with Wanda. It made you rethink everything
If you came out with Wanda, you’d become a weakness. Agents from every single mafia and organization would target you to try to get to Wanda using you. The witch didn’t want you to get hurt because of her. Even though you could defend yourself, Wanda was too scared of losing you. 
’Don't matter what's written
We can start all over again, all over again
Oh, how can I get you all over my skin?’
After suggesting you try to announce your relationship at Tony’s party, Wanda started to distance herself from you. Taking missions when you were supposed to spend time together. Disappearing abruptly whenever you were near her.
The missions were weighing her down, being away from you was taking its toll on her. She missed you, missed going into your room because she couldn’t sleep, missed your hugs, your kisses, everything about you. It was driving her crazy to stay away from you.
Whenever she saw you, the brunette wanted to pull you into a hug and tell you everything that was happening. But she couldn’t, she saw the pain in your eyes whenever she pulled away. Wanda couldn’t apologize for trying to keep you safe from her.
It was driving you crazy to be so far away from her. You’d gotten too used to being near her. You didn’t know how to fix it either.
’My deep intuition tells me that I'm doing you wrong
If I don't come home
Just say you forgive me and don't let me go’
After a month of her charade of staying away from you. She broke, knocking on your room in the middle of the night with tears streaming down her face. You pulled her into your room, listening to her frantic apologies. Wiping the tears away from her face with your hands, she whispered frantic apologies, her hands holding you close to her.
It surprised you when she pulled you in for a searing kiss, her lips moving over yours hungrily. But she pulled away as quickly, apologizing and trying to give you your space even though it was tearing her apart.
’So I just wanna apologize
I'm sorry, so sorry
I'm sorry, yeah’
You hugged her, holding her close, running your hands through her hair. Wanda relaxed into you, your touch sending sparks of electricity through her. Everything about you felt right. You felt right.
‘I need your love
And I'm dying for the rush
'Cause my heart ain't got enough’
You needed her, whenever she was gone, you felt hopeless. Nothing seemed to amuse you, you forgot to eat, drink, and trained more often than you needed to. The rest of the team saw this and tried to cheer you up. But all you wanted was Wanda.
’I need your touch
This is getting serious
Tell me that it's not the end of us’
Wanda wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. She knew she loved you, unconditionally. You loved her back, everything seemed perfect. But every time you tried to turn it into a relationship, it barreled into a disaster. Dates always felt like you were just close friends.
‘You know, I roar like a lion
For you, you know I'll keep trying 'til the sun stops rising’
But neither of you wanted to stop. You loved her too much to leave her, so you kept trying. Over and over again, you were getting tired of it. Wanda needed you with her, but she saw how much this was exhausting you. 
Trying to get away from you didn’t work.
Every time she tried to leave you, she found herself making her way back to you. Finding comfort in your arms, your touch. She needed you.
’How can we go back to the beginning?
Without you, I've got no air to breathe in
“How can we go back to the beginning?” Wanda asked you. 
You shrugged, playing with your hands in your lap. Smirking, you got up and held your hand out.
“Hi, I’m y/n, y/n y/l/n and it’s great to meet you,” You introduced, Wanda laughed, rubbing the mascara stains off of her cheeks.
“I’m Wanda Maximoff and the pleasure is all mine,” Wanda giggled. 
You kissed her forehead and sat down next to her, taking one of her hands in yours and stroking the knuckles of it. Both of you were tired of everything. But you still had each other, it was all either of you needed. 
Buy me a coffee?
A/N: I’m really sorry but I didn’t know how to make this longer, really sorry about that. Tell me what you think tho!
Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart​ , @summergeezburr​ , @imnotasuperhero  let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!
111 notes · View notes
fantastic-bby · 3 years
Text
Books & Poems I love
Hello, I am just dumping my favourite books and poems here because I like them and I want people to read them too bcs they're cool. Disclaimer: I haven't read some of these books in a REALLY long time, so the explanations might be a bit off since this is mostly what I remember from when I had read them. All will be under the cut and I hope someone out there finds these as enjoyable as I do!
Books
1. Huntress by Malinda Lo
Nature is out of balance in the human world. The sun hasn’t shone in years, and crops are failing. Worse yet, strange and hostile creatures have begun to appear. The people’s survival hangs in the balance.
To solve the crisis, the oracle stones are cast, and Kaede and Taisin, two seventeen-year-old girls, are picked to go on a dangerous and unheard-of journey to Tanlili, the city of the Fairy Queen. Taisin is a sage, thrumming with magic, and Kaede is of the earth, without a speck of the otherworldly. And yet the two girls’ destinies are drawn together during the mission. As members of their party succumb to unearthly attacks and fairy tricks, the two come to rely on each other and even begin to fall in love. But the Kingdom needs only one huntress to save it, and what it takes could tear Kaede and Taisin apart forever.
I cannot express how much I adore this book. It's so well-written and the entire book feels like such an adventure to read. I have to warn everyone who will read this that it is quite violent. I also love the WLW inclusion which is carried throughout the story. It's also mentioned in the beginning that Kaede does not want to marry a prince because she could never marry a man. It's filled with lots of romance and it's fantasy because I'm a sucker for fantasy reads.
My sister had bought this book for me after I had lost my first copy and my cat peed on my second copy. The first time, I had bought it from a Big Bad Wolf sale in about 2014. The second, I ordered it through Kinokuniya, but I'm pretty sure you can get it off of Amazon as well.
2. Teardrop by Lauren Kate
Never, ever cry . . .
Seventeen-year-old Eureka won't let anyone close enough to feel her pain. After her mother was killed in a freak accident, the things she used to love hold no meaning. She wants to escape, but one thing holds her back: Ander, the boy who is everywhere she goes, whose turquoise eyes are like the ocean.
And then Eureka uncovers an ancient tale of romance and heartbreak, about a girl who cried an entire continent into the sea. Suddenly her mother's death and Ander's appearance seem connected, and her life takes on dark undercurrents that don't make sense.
Can everything you love be washed away?
This is also a book that I've read multiple times. I've even read the sequel, Waterfall, but I don't think I actually got around to finishing it since I bought it right before my exams. Another love and fantasy novel, it covers a lot of grieving and pain that Eureka goes through after losing her mother and at one point, she actually wishes it was her that had died during the accident.
Her relationship with Ander is quite sudden since he just shows up out of nowhere and just happens to know practically everything about her. I, personally, enjoy this book out of the amount of angst that it's filled with. It's very well-written and I still have the first copy that I bought at the same Big Bad Wolf sale that I had gotten Huntress. I think I had gotten the sequal at Kinokuniya as well (?), but I'm not entirely sure because it's been a really long time.
3. Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi
No one knows why Juliette's touch is fatal, but The Reestablishment has plans for her. Plans to use her as a weapon. But Juliette has plans of her own. After a lifetime without freedom, she's finally discovering a strength to fight back for the very first time--and to find a future with the one boy she thought she's lost forever.
Another very angsty book. It centres around Juliette, a girl who, for some reason, kills everyone she touches. It's also written in First POV and in the format of a journal. It feels more personal because some of the lines are striked through to show a thought that Juliette had in the moment of writing that she decided to replace with a different approach instead.
The beginning is basically Juliette being locked away in some sort of a prison because of her 'gift' and she writes to keep herself from going crazy, but then one day some guy is put into the same cell as her. It's another romance novel and also a kind of superhero novel It also gets pretty... ahem... seggsy... at one point, but it's a good read.
I've read the entire series aside from Restore Me. I have it, but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. Shatter Me is also from the same Big Bad Wolf sale as the other two lol. Juliette is also trapped in a love triangle at one point, but I won't get into it. It also gets a bit violent, but slightly less graphic than Huntress is and is also another 'self-discover' kinda book. (can you see a theme here that I read lol)
4. Winter's End by Jean-Claude Mourlevat
Four teenagers escape from their prison-like boarding schools to take up the fight against the tyrannical government that murdered their parents fifteen years earlier. But only three of the friends make it safely to Jahn's restaurant, the headquarters of a secret resistance movement, where they discover the astonishing power that one voice can have in the fight for freedom.
As the battle rages, the three friends are in a race against time to save their companion, who has been forced to participate in a deadly, ancient game for the amusement of his captors. Will this new generation prevail, or are they destined to meet the same grisly fate as their parents?
This is also extremely angsty. It's also pretty violent as well, so that's a warning for whoever will read this. Once again, well-written, nice flow to the story and I just really like this book. There's a lot of uncovering in the book that makes you go HUH because the four students end up uncovering a lot about their government and the secrets that involve the four of them.
It has a very heavy dark tone to it, which I really enjoy. It's a bit different from the other three which is less fantasy and more of a dystopian book. It's a very heroic, determination feeling that follows the students as they journey throughout the book. Also something that follows the students are a group of dog-men... things... that I'm pretty sure I actually had small nightmares imagining when I had read this in around 2013 or 2014.
Poems
Disclaimer: Half of these were poems I did essays on in high school aside from L. These are my illustrations of it and they're the ones that stood out to me when I had first read them.
1. Daffodils by William Wordsworth
I read this in high school when I was taking English Literature. It's a poem that Wordsworth wrote after his wife had passed away. I love the way it's written and William Wordsworth is one of my favourite poets. It's filled with the feeling of being lost and rediscovering the joys of the small things in life. There's a lot of imagery that refers to the flower, daffodil, and overall, it's just a a very soft themed poem.
I think the reason this poem stood out to me was because I was feeling a bit lost at the time I read it (the end of highschool) and I was desperately trying to find something I could relate to in some way.
2. Winter by Andrew Young
Another one that contains a lot of imagery. It's a poem about the beauty of Winter and how, while it's seen as a dark and gloomy season, it has hidden beauties that you can see if you're able to look past the initial image of it.
This poem in particular, I'm pretty sure I have a soft spot for in my heart mainly because of the soft spot I have for Winter in general.
3. London by William Blake
This is a more dark toned poem. It covers what old London used to be like with the raging poverty at the time. A lot of child labour and sex workers that would struggle with making money when they would accidentally get pregnant.
It's quite a depressing poem that I like because of the dark undertone and I, personally, really enjoy William Blake's works.
4. L by Bernice Chauly
L is a poem about how her daughter had cut her hair right after going to the hairdressers. While Chauly's daughter is crying when she yells at her, Chauly is reminded of when she had done something similar when she had just turned five years old. She thinks back to it and remembers that, at the time, all she wanted was to see her late father.
This is also more heavy set and it makes me think of the way children must feel when they lose their parents at such young ages.
2 notes · View notes
yfere · 5 years
Text
Shipping Calculus! Live Updates from C2E62
Downtime (n): a word which here means “bust a drug ring and spy on war meetings,” with some home improvement on the side.
*wheezes* Anyway, we do math no matter how stressed we are, yes? A mathematician must never be daunted by mere….madness. Masterpost here.
+23 to Fjord/Jester Outside experts were necessary for this. On the one hand, Shipping Calculus Law states that you lose points for facilitating a relationship to another person….but if you do that while also clearly getting “heart eyes” for the whole affair? Those rules no longer apply. We have, here, Fjord’s Over The Top “I Am So Cool Pls Notice” at Jester referencing his bravery at rooming next to her, and mutual, uh, attempts to comfort that are Deflected By This Deflecting Pair! You Would Earn More Points For Not Deflecting! Oh no, Jester, are you worried about your mom I’m sure she’s oka—NAH, FJORD, HOW ARE YOU. Are you feeling uncomfortable latel—NAH, I’M FINE I’M HAVING ZERO ISSUES WITH THE WATER EXCEPT THAT IT’S IN MY EARS AND I CAN’T HEAR YOU. Lots and lots of banter, and Jester asking Fjord about whether this is his first home, and offering him a mural because she’s a sweetheart. Point loss because Fjord did not accept the mural invitation which makes Jester, deprived of this gesture of affection from her artistic soul, very sad. Also, Jester’s hair was gross and that’s a tragedy for all Jester ships this week.
+8 to Beau/Jester Speaking of gross hair. These two—still roomates! Beau looking for the Best Room, as always! And for some reason, they very much don’t mind in each other all the things that would make them awful roomates to everyone else? Jester happily deals with Beau’s horrific snoring (if they ever have to split, Beau and Cads need to room as the resident snorers), and Beau handles Jester’s Hair Fiasco with nary a complaint, only a surreptitious request for some incense from Caduceus. That’s love. Point loss for Beau complaining about Nugget’s drooling—you need to love pets to love Jester, and that is law
-30 to Jester/Pets. But pets….they may not love Jester. My darling….forcing your beaten and world weary weasel (a ground dweller) into a tree dwelling against its will, forgetting your weasel’s name….I mean, you would think that someone would have sat you down by now to talk about consent (and that you never call someone you love by another name).
+20 to Beau/Gaydar And she foooooooooooools Caleb into thinking it’s a faulty Straightdar that has her saying he and Nott have tension. Don’t worry, Caleb, Beau understands you a little too well. And as we all know, ejecting a man from your room is a Special Lesbian Power bequeathed from the gods.
+2 to Caleb/Fjord/Jester because Frumpkin also got to hang out and gape at Fjord’s tremendously awkward honeypot display at the apothecary. Those three made a stellar Team A to the two-team investigation, with Jester and Fjord distracting like champs while Frumpkin learned of the invisible guard! Also, +2 to Frumpkin/Detective Work!
+18 to Jester/Yasha for Jester’s incredibly thoughtful and sweet wildflower mural for Yasha, and Yasha’s equally sweet surprise and thankfulness. A perfect combination of the ancient and venerable practices of  Seduction Through Art and Seduction Through Flower Arrangements—Jester is on top of her game. Point loss for sticking even a lovingly drawn dick anywhere in Yasha’s vicinity, that should be illegal
+2 to Beau/Yasha for partnering up to go to the library, yeah! A training pit, which is Ripe for Physical Contact Opportunities! Yasha being inspired by Beau’s bracers to get a set of her own, and you know how wlw love sharing clothing? I’m just saying.
+15 to Caleb/Caduceus A bit of an understated week, in the absence of Intense Conversation, but with a lot going on. Beginning, of course, with Caduceus making Caleb’s Special Gift the Literal Symbol of him “putting down roots” and spending a full week making it the centerpiece of the Xhorhaus and such an ostentatious landmark no one in the city will ever forget it. Caleb helps out with construction of the garden using cat-shaped spellwork,  and also invites everyone he meets to Come To the Krynn’s First Treehouse the man is proud. Frumpkin, too, climbing the tree, and it’s only a matter of time before Caleb does the same. Speaking of, Caleb once more pulling the “O, Large and Attractive Man, Please Shield Me From the Haters” card in a Cramped Alley, which Caduceus himself sort of initiated by aggressively campaigning for Frumpkin Spying. Nott gets +5 to Cockblocking for pulling Caduceus away to Detect Magic. Caduceus making windchimes to help make feel Caleb safe—though Caleb is sadly dismissive at the time No point gain for Caduceus’ very sweet and genuine and incredibly unsuccessful attempt to prevent the wizard from choking to death on his grand plans. Point loss for Caleb preferring to use residuum to craft a protective ring, possibly over trying to fix the sword that Caduceus is fixated on. Can Caleb’s Sword make him forget about it?
+30 to the M9/Winning the Local Dick Measuring Contest. You take a tower, you add a 60 foot tree as an elaborate penis metaphor, spread your seed all over the rooftop garden, and put permanent daylight in a region that is permanently dark and worships the Light. All right. Okay.
+20 to Caleb/Essik oh gods, and now we have evidence that a cleaned up fashionable Caleb is perhaps also a little bit catnip for the NPCs. Caleb’s silver tongue and flirtatious finger-wiggling with his special Cat Spell? Bowing and opening the door with magic like A Flirt? The favor exchange convo which is how Every Male Character Woos Caleb Apparently? Essik, for his part, giving up his schedule for the moment, strutting his stuff with his fancy spellbook and chuckling and asking for Caleb’s permission and no one else’s to enter the home???? These boys move faaaaast. We’ll see how this develops with time. Also, between the spellwork Giving Caleb Game and Frumpkin detectiving, +50 to Caleb/Cat-Shaped Creatures, +30 to Caleb/Plot Relevant Magic Gott-damn
+35 to Fjord/Caleb So here in Shipping Calculus, Intense Conversations earn lots of points and uh, there was so much steam from this one it got sound effects. Clasping of hands, promises, declarations, in a callback to Every Major Widofjord Moment Ever. Not to mention, the ambushing-in-the-room maneuver straight (?) out of a romance novel. Caleb taking a gentle pry bar to the locked door of Fjord’s past and insecurities, as all Fjord shippers ultimately hope to see revealed on screen. The mention of Mighty Nein being family? Admiration and resentment? We can remake ourselves into something better? Admitting to worrying about everyone? Saying Caleb is not crazy (but he may be, crazy for someone?) Point loss for Fjord not…..getting the caring thing up until the end, probably. Oh dear. Oh my.
+55 to The Cast/Ashley Johnson. Yasha never fucking says anything, but Sam and Liam both love Ashley. Laura wants everyone to fuck off except Ashley, she’s an angel and we’re glad she’s here.
-100 to Caleb/Astrid/Eodwulf as Caleb says at one point Astrid was “The One” for him. But Caleb. Why could it not have been “The Two?” Throw me us a bone here.
+1000 to Nott/Yeza KISS! THEY KISS! And Nott goes on about not needing to kiss for some things. Spending time in the hot tub together, and in the Lab together (thanks, Caleb!) and being Dangerous Together. Yeza offering to be a house husband and clean up the place while they adventure! Nott being too protective of Yeza to send him without protection to the Coast or the Empire!
+14 to Caleb/Jester as Caleb aims the full force of his Worrywart self at Jester’s direction over the Astrid letter—all Jester ships gain points for distress over Marion Lavorre, as it should be. Jester alongside Nott immediately and frantically insisting that nothing letter-related is Caleb’s fault at all, but hey it’s not Jester’s fault either, it was Nott who told her what to write and she didn’t know anyyything. The suggestion for “The Salty Sea” that Jester and Caleb (and Fjord, hello +1 to Caleb/Fjord/Jester) are tied up with becoming the unlocking mechanism for a secret entrance to Caleb’s library. Jester unfortunately funnels many points into +20 to Jester/Foot in Mouth as she makes sad Astrid conversation but more importantly the horrific “you’ll always be an assassin to me” flirt. Jester. Jester no. Jester you know how he feels about his past right. Jester?
+3 to Beau/Hosting which was great until the cocktail racism, damn that’s a lot of point loss
+70 to Nott the Best Detective Agency/Detective Work as they uncover evidence of a SUUDE OPERATION and listen in on KING DWENDAL’S WAR PLANS. Interpretation of evidence once more provided by partner Beau and Lab Guy Caleb, who between their history and arcana checks and shady histories shed light on the puzzle before them.
-15 to Fjord/Charming the Neighbors. Caduceus is unfortunately too busy with home renovations to be his sweet Lets Bake For The Neighbors self, so Fjord ventures outside and proves why there need to be three high CHA people in this party. Because while Fjord can swing a honeypot in a crisis and intimidate like no one’s business, his inclination to dress people down and match insult for insult makes things go pretty sour with Bylan pretty quickly. The obvious solution, considering Fjord’s skill set, is to redress the issue by undressing the man.
+100000000000000000000000000000000000 to CR/Naming It The Xhorhaus because it got a SONG!!!!!!!!!
389 notes · View notes
givemequeen · 5 years
Text
below the cut is everything that is currently in my inbox:
the first one (at the top) is the one i am currently working on, thanks for your patience.
also, things that are crossed out are my words
Roger Taylor x reader x john lennon threesome smut
imagine each beatle reacting to their girlfriend licking an ice cream cone with out realizing how suggestive it looks
PLEASE do more devil john lennon! (p≧w≦q)
Hi! Could you do me a favour and write me some Brian May fluff? I'm on my period and it's rough! Thank you, love your blog :)
fluff 19,29,38 smut 7,23,38 george being dominant in the studio with his girlfriend (sorry i couldn't pick you can choose what ever ones you want
Let me just say the writing in 'I want to see you' was so good like it was genuninley too much for my little heart to handle. I was wondering (if you're comfortable with it) if you could do a smutty part two, it's fine if not I know you get a lot of requests but you're soooooo good at writing and I hope you doing well with life in general x
perhaps a smut one shot about the reader and shy, kinda sub george doing it for the first time in a hotel after prom?
really going through it right now and need some comfort. could i request a fluffy thing with john or george about the reader being insecure about her bisexuality cause her parents don’t support her about it and one of them comforting her through it? 🥺
Love I'm sick, well I'm lactose intolerant and my stomach is really upset so how about Geo helping reader out and making them feel better and maybe Geo then makes the decision to not have any dairy in tho flat even tho that's hard for him to say because we know he loves his food🦙🖤
hewwo! how are you? could you please write about beatle!reader in 1965 being with the boys while filming help! especially the scene where they sing another girl and they goof around and then like paul and reader accidentally kiss each other but then they kiss more which means they love each other💖💖
Hi I absolutely love your fics!!! 💛💛 May I request one where john and reader have been flirting for so long which climaxes during the shea stadium tour and reader gets really flustered seeing john all sweaty and enjoying himself while john gets really horny seeing reader enjoying their show and they just go at it right after the concert ;))
could i please request a george oneshot where the reader is a photographer and she goes to take photos of the beatles and george is just immediately taken by her and spends the whole day trying to get her attention and she very much likes him too (very much paul/linda kind of scenario). perhaps including prompt 14 “I don’t think I’ve ever been this…happy. It’s an odd feeling.” :)))
um hi, I broke up with my boyfriend because i'm really not feeling the most mentally stable and he really didn't take it well. I was just wondering if you could cheer me up with anything. Thanks.
Okay but like a John x teen!reader where she's like a little sis to him and he notices how she has bruise's on her and he naturally asks her where it's from and she doesn't say anything and then her remembered that her dad is an asshole and he puts 2 and 2 together and makes her move in with him and mimi🌺 sorry that was a lot
hii idk if you're comfortable with it but could u write something about 80s george?
first time with teddy boy george ?
write reader riding teddy boy george 😳😳
I just read the accent kink anon and now I need something like that in my life, because all I can think about is George groaning while you whisper something to him in Spanish and he just can’t control himself 😉 Whenever you have the chance could you whip something like that up?
Hey!! been following you for a while! Can i request an imagine about you dating paul and being with him through the breakup of the band, and him being very sad and depressed and you barely talk, barely have sex, barely laugh until he realises how you must have been feeling and he apologises ;) wink wink thank you so much! love your blog!
Hey love! When u have time, could you write maybe a John Lennon x fem! reader headcanon what would John be like in bed? I love ur posts!
do ya think, you could maybe do a george x reader where the reader and george babysit baby julian since john wasn't always there for him? lots of fluff, george is good with kids and the reader's heart explodes
Could you do hc for george when fem!reader comes out as bi or LBGTQ+ ?
Could i request a fluffy shot of beatle!reader coming out as bi-sexual and she’s super nervous because be LBGTQ+ can get you in jail at the time and the guys are like, “we know”
Okay but imagine the reader is a model and she is a love interest for george and george questions bruises on her wrists. She tell him that it’s her boyfriend and later she is a love interest for george in a film. She had just broken up with her boyfriend so baby boy george shoots his shot. (Probably angst and maybe smut ;) )
After the Shea Stadium concert Paul, who is all sweaty hugs you from behind, you protest and tell him to take a shower, but he start kissing your neck and running his hands under your dress. You can't resist anymore and let Paul fuck you in the dressing room.
Can you write something smutty for George?
Hi, I love your blog❤️❤️also can I have a smutty Ringo where where at his house and admits his feelings to the reader and then dirty things start happening. Hope you have a great day❤️🌹
can you do a one shot of the reader and george just before the beatles get famous in like 1962 and he’s telling her he’ll never leave her even if they do get big, please? love ur writing!
can you do a one shot of the reader and george just before the beatles get famous in like 1962 and he’s telling her he’ll never leave her even if they do get big, please? love ur writing!
Can you do a short fic about the reader having short curly hair and the react of the boys about it?
Hi can you do a imagine where 1961 Paul takes your virginity? Plz
idk why but I’ve been crazy about the idea of Ringo like bending you over and fucking you with his drumsticks idk, I need it plzzz
Hi could you do a imagine where you going to Disney with the Beatles and Ringo is all happy and excited and you start singing songs with him like Once Upon A Dream plz!
i know you have a lot of requests, but maybe some ringo fluff because there's not much of it? maybe ringo and reader go ice skating? you're my favorite writer on tumblr 👀
Can I request a ringo x fem reader smut? how bout one where they’re staying at Ringo’s childhood home with his family and they’re staying in his room and come night time, they get it on but try to stay relatively low key (cos they’re in his tiny childhood room in his parents house lmao) and then next day his family makes a cheeky comment, leaving them blushing and wondering if they heard everything 😝😳
Teddy Paul x square reader
Could i request a fic where Paul and the reader are listening Elvis records and he ask her to dance with him?
can you do an imagine about george and his wife/girlfriend being new parents and being all sweet with their baby just fluffy stuff :) btw love your blog, you’re so dedicated!!
could you do an imagine where the readers basically paul’s side chick behind janes back? and maybe in the end they both leave paul to be together ((sorry i’m a sucker for wlw))
Ok so your concept and writting for the Harry Potter Beatles au was amazing! Could I request of fic of that same scenario? Like the boys all have to take polyjuice potion to look like George and reader’s helping them with their plan but also being really blushy because they all look like Geo (whom she has a small crush on) and maybe the other lads use this as an opportunity to bring the two closer together. Thanks :)
idea (you can pick any beatle boy you want) you're in a conference room with your boyfriend and there's about to be a meeting and you notice how hard he is and you're not wearing panties so literal seconds before the others come into the room you just sit down on him and he has to keep his composure while he's deep inside you
Could you please write one where the reader is Paul’s love interest in Help and George has a major crush on her. Paul and Reader have to kiss in the movie and George is upset and ignored reader until the after party of the premier where she confronts him and they have sex. Thank you
Could you do beatles headcannons for the boys dating a model?
Could you do a smut fic with Teddy Paul where is the reader's birthday?
Reader and teddy boy John are best friends (could be in a relationship if you want) and the reader is fed up with how things are at home so she walks out after an argument or something and goes to see John and he’s basically just there for her and cheers her up and they have a good ol’ time jammin to records or he shows her a new song he’s learnt on guitar
Modern day teaching the Beatles how to do the renegade
I loved your modern George x reader could you do one with Paul too?
Can i request a imagine with the Beatles and Brian Epstein? I think Brian deserve some love.
Hi can you do an imagine with teddy boy Paul based on Summer Nights from Grease? Thanks.
heyy!! i've only just joined tumblr and ive found your account and i love it :)) do you think that you could do a ringo smut please i would be so grateful
Hi! um, Can you please do a POC! reader with Paul?..
Could I request a modern teddy boy!beatles were the reader has a soft grunge aesthetic and is a sweetheart and she ends up dating George cause he is a year older and the boys tease them? Maybe smut 😳
Could you do a Paul fic where is the reader's birthday and they go out for a romantic dinner ?
I don't usually ask but may I have a John x McCartney reader? And The reader is scared of John ,but deep down she has a crush on her, and John teases her about her beening scared of him.(Alsoifitisokaycanthereaderhaveglassesand beshort?)-Admin.
Could you maybe do something with dom!paul x reader?
Can I get some Ringo fluff?? Like something to do with kids, having them or taking care of them etc.?
Can I request a ringo imagine where he takes her out to a fancy tea place and treats her to a sweet girly time having cakes and sandwiches and tea and stuff and she is just so in love with him and how sweet he is and then can later that night ringo wants to be intimate (they have been before) but he’s shy about it and they get it on :’)
Can I request an angsty ringo imagine where ringo and reader have been friends and they both liked each other a lot but never have been able to admit they’re feelings for eachother and so reader dates around, and none of them are good, and ringo sees her out with some guy and he gets so upset seeing her with another man and so ringo sort of fake flirts with other girls at the club and reader gets upset n so they get together in the end and make love lol
Could you please please please do a Paul and virgin reader fic?
A cute imagine with Beatle!Assistant with dyslexia and she’s working on some files and a beatle (preferably George) helps her with the grammer and he’s making her feel not embarrassed about it and is like kissing her on the cheek (basically them being all cute and stuff) ps I LOVE your writing ❤️
Could you do a John x reader (maybe a late 70s john) were he as conflicted feelings for the reader but he is with Yoko but one day he sees her and tells her how he feels and they end up together and it ends all fluffy and stuff
can i request a reader (preferably male but gender neutral if you’re uncomfortable with writing a mlm fic)gushing over how cute honey pie (the song is) to paul and then he starts calling paul his honey pie and paul attacks his face w kisses?? very fluffy becuz.... well... it’s fluff... thank you!!
'65-66 ish soulmate au with john?? he hasn't had his turn at one yet I don't think--
omg could u do a highschool john x reader where the reader is like such a goody goody and they never rlly cross paths until one day john gets in trouble for smthg he didnt do and like idk the reader knows it wasnt him cuz she saw who acc did it and so she defends him and the teacher believes her cuz shes a good kid and then john just never leaves her alone cuz she saved him and hes like obsessed w her and she doesnt fall for it at first cuz hes a teddy boy but hes just so sweet she caves in🥰
Could you do smut with teddy boy!george and maybe Paul your older brother walks in a causes a scene cause he’s a drama queen👀😳😳😳
umm can I please uh request a John and reader smut? Just filth where the reader is really submissive and they like fuck over a desk or she’s on the kitchen counter and it’s rough but v hot??
hii can i request a teddy boy georgie x reader where theyre neighbours or smthg and they grew up tg like they were always close but since george joined the quarrymen a few years ago they havent been hanging out as much (only see eachother at school) but then one day george goes full teddy boy mode and the reader thinks hes changing and tryna be a badboy like john or smthg but rlly hes still the sweet george she knows and loves but now he has the confidence to tell her how he feels heehee :)))
early 1970s john deacon smut/fluff please heh, sub john oop
could you do a oneshot of teddy!george fucking you whilst his parents are home?? btw love your writing and dedication :)
Can you do a reeeeeally dirty and hard smut? With 70's John and a younger reader. Please :) But like, REALLY rough John
HI! i know youre probably busy, but can you please make a oneshot about respected POC! reader and her mini band singing "in spite of all the danger" in the cavern, and teddy boy ringo with his cute lil beard catching the eyes of the reader?? thank you so much!!!
54 notes · View notes
samiii-p · 4 years
Text
(working title):
dance inside
inspired lyrics: "hands to fuel desire, i'll be fine, you'll be fine".
story inspo:
honestly, we were robbed of the
wlw fire&desire story line and i miss
their on screen friendship
“I want to make love to you.”
Daria hears fireworks explode in the distance, can see bright colors coat the sky outside above her friends, co-worker's as they cheer and bring in the New Year. And yet, all she comprehends are seven words. Make love to you. They string along distinctively loud.
Hearing them … it’s certainly the last thing she expects from Mandy when the blonde drags her inside as the rest of the party bring in 2021.  
“Tonight. I want to make love to you tonight.” She clarifies. “Please, say something ...”
What exactly does she want her to say?
Sure. Let’s do this thing. In fact, take off your dress and we can go right here, right now.
No, nonono. For one they’re inside Trinity and Jimmy’s home. And two -? Two, Mandy is her friend. Her best friend.
“I know this is a lot to take in.”
Her eyes widen, jaw tenses as goose-flesh spread out over her body to say no shit but forces herself to focus and breathe. Good lord does she need all her energy for such a simple task.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” Mandy murmurs, slowly twisting the ring around her finger, “and I really want to do this." A beat passes before she quietly emphasizes, "with you."
Her.
She wants ... her?
"I-"
Years. Almost half a decade to ignore what ifs and alternative possibilities when now – now, she’s standing in her work friends kitchen on the first day of the brand new year and the hugest secret close to her chest is being dragged into the light.  Proud and present on the shiniest, silver platter her mind can conjure.
“I…”
Her delayed flight instincts finally kick in and to take a moment – just to get her fucking bearings because holy hell – she can’t even inhale properly without smelling Mandy's perfume.
"Ineedto-I’llberightback.”
She lets her go without another word, thankfully, and finds herself in the bathroom. It’s the size of a small apartment but there’s enough room to work out the building energy rapidly intensifying. She slows down eventually and splashes water to cool down but nothing really settles the feeling of the walls caving in.
Not until she catches her reflection in the mirror at least, starring at the red flush in her cheeks and her busy hands that won’t stop shaking.  
“Shit.”
How the hell is this happening to her?
It’s taken a serious effort to train her mind into not thinking of Mandy like this - under her, under her – loving her …
She hangs her head. The anxious feeling in her fingertips tap repeatedly against the counter top and groans.
It’s not working this time. The metaphorical lock box labeled “never touch” with all of her wicked thoughts is being cracked open, finally allowed to roam free. Fantasy Mandy is wanton, and giving. She’s soft and sweet and her moans of pleasure are – are otherworldly. Fantasy Mandy is eager for everything Daria is there to offer, spread wide ready for her to explore.
She wants it. She wants her.
And she can have it. It’s waiting right outside the door. All she has to do is say yes.  
“Say yes.”
Daria tells herself and the terrified reflection starring back at her. Once it became clear all she and Mandy where ever going to be friends, she never hoped or asked or allowed herself to think, but, the decision are in her hands this time. The choice was hers to take.
“Yes.”
But.
“Nothing changes.”
It’s her one and only demand. Tonight cannot change their friendship. Sex for one night or any stretch of time was not worth it. Mandy is her best friend, her person – her safe place – and in this crazy career path they decided to walk down, she needs that most of all.
“Promise me.”
Mandy hesitates, steps forward an inch where there’s still enough space between them before silently reaching her hand out. “I promise.”
And against her better judgement Daria places her palm in the blonde’s.
***                                                                                                                                                                                                    ***
Goodbyes blur together as they hug their friends, wishing them good nights before Daria finds herself at her doorstep. Subconsciously she wonders if they ended up here to preserve any lasting comfort, knowing that if she backs out at least it wouldn’t have to be her that left.
Stepping forward first, Daria braces against the foyer wall and unhooks one heel before the other, letting seconds tick by before facing the woman behind her.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Another step and she’s in her living room sliding her jacket off and placing the garment over a leather chair.
“No, thank you. I'm fine.”
“Are you sure? We've been drinking a lot tonight, I think some water will-”
The rest is clipped short at Mandy’s touch, dying on her tongue and halted in brain as she’s nearly knocked over by look in her friend’s eyes. Never in a million years did she think her best friend could look at her like this. Her pupils are nearly black, full of lust.
Daria gulps.
“D?”
“...yeah?”
Soft hands trek up and around until they rest on her shoulders. Eyes searching for hints this might end quicker than either of them hope and when blonde sees none she skims her thumb over Daria’s bottom lip. Electrifying the nerves and heightening her sense of feeling.
“I want to kiss you.” Mandy licks her lips, gently, “may I kiss you?”
Brown eyes zone in and all she can see is Mandy. Nothing else. She can’t even process anything disrupting this moment with her here standing toe to toe, chest to chest.
The first kiss is not gentle or how she imagined it all. It’s rough, greedy. Attacking as if this is the only chance she’ll ever get because this is the only time. She’d feel awful if Mandy wasn’t ambushing her just the same, almost tricking her into believing the blonde has wanted this for just as long.
Hands grope, squeezing and feeling down her friends plush hips, around until they found home on Mandy’s ass. She moans into her Daria’s mouth, opening up to the brunette just enough for her to slip her tongue in and get her first real taste.
Jesus.
She’s everything. Everything.
If she’s not careful, if she doesn’t pace herself she might embarrass herself in the middle of the living room without Mandy ever properly touching her, without Mandy even getting her out of her clothes.
“Room, b-bedroom.”
She pleads, breathing into Mandy’s mouth, diving back in for another taste she was quickly finding herself addicted to. Using her to hold herself up as she tugs at her bottom lip and sucks at the skin when neck meets shoulder. Nipping and licking and fuck –
Her bedroom is down the hall. She can literally see it above Mandy's shoulder. If only her body would regroup from this melted mess Mandy was quickly resorting her to.
Lips and tongue slide up the line of Daria's jaw, targeting her mouth, her tongue, her teeth and pulling whimpers away.
Daria grunts. She can’t take it anymore. She needs to be out of her clothes. She needs Mandy the same. Naked, beneath her and screaming her name. She takes a second to gather the strength, lips still locked together, but finds it in herself to secure Mandy against her and lift. One hand safely tucked under her ass and the other at her back and takes off as fast as the heat growing between her legs will allow.
When she grinds against Daria's stomach, she nearly tips over. The heat between her friend’s legs is scorching, wet and pleasantly seeping through her oxford. She loves it, she wants more – cupping the soft flesh she brings her closer, aiding her quest for pleasure.
“Y-yee-ees,” Mandy shakily inhales, back arching, “yeessss.”
Daria holds her, steadying her as Mandy’s lower body humps without abandon until she breaks, shuttering against the flat steel of her stomach. Pressing her to the wall outside her bedroom door, she feels safer to match the blonde. Finds joy in the bare feel of Mandy’s ass in her hands as her dress continues to ride up her waist, and kisses her again chasing Mandy's moans back inside.
The pace fastens until Daria can hear the thwack echoing the halls and it drives her to give more, impels her to slip her fingers down and seek her clit. She rolls them over Mandy’s lace underwear slow to start and quickens the more Mandy chases after it. Faster and faster until her friend freezes in her arms. Erupting from inside out. Moaning loudly, beautifully like music made for Daria’s ears. A burst of wetness drips onto her and holy fucking hell, Daria can't remember the last time she's been this turned on. If ever.
When her hips still, Mandy slumps against the wall. The back of her head thumping once before Daria safely places her hand as a barrier. She runs her fingers through her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp until (surprisingly) Mandy purrs.
She stores that tidbit of information away for later.
Kisses her neck, taste the salt their and the distinctness of the blonde. Admires the rumpled waves falling over flushed cheeks and Daria is mesmerized. She can't take her eyes off the post-coital fatigue in her arms, kissed bruised lips and the sweat dotting her forehead and, whoa.
Until this point Daria has seen her best friend in multiple forms: dressed to the nines, in comfortable clothes, tired after a hard workout but this, this is her new favorite look. Because she did that.
And oh. If she can break her apart in just a manner for moments, then well – she was going to put her soul into giving Mandy everything tonight.
"And you’re okay?"
Pouty lips Daria can't take her eyes off of, smirk then sigh.
"Couldn't be better."
Daria dips, kissing the first patch of soft skin her lips came in contact with and straightens her stance, securing her, then takes a step inside her room.
"Good, because I'm not done with you yet."
Notes:
ao3: @samiii_p
1 note · View note
jobethdalloway · 5 years
Text
Rambling “Booksmart” thoughts from my 3 viewings of it (spoilers below!)
1) How much was I like Molly & Amy in high school? My senior quote included a quote from The Hours: "Perhaps there is nothing, ever, that can equal the recollection of having been young together. Maybe it's as simple as that." That, for me, actually sums up a lot of the joys of this movie. It wasn't angsty or taking itself too seriously like Lady Bird; it wasn't about shitting on its main character like Edge of Seventeen; it wasn't about loneliness like Eighth Grade; it wasn't about meanness like most of Mean Girls - it was about all the incredible joys that come with being a teenager, whichever way you choose to teen.
lots of rambling thoughts-
-the chemistry/casting is a huge part of what elevates this to something golden. I just completely accept that Kaitlyn & Beanie have been best friends since birth. sign me tf up. Give them Michael Cera and Jonah Hill's careers!! -Billie Lourd's entrance is one of the funniest things I've ever seen and then every time she popped up was just another miracle of laughter -this is like. soft Daria & Jane. Daria and Jane were a bit before my time but their '90s cynicism was something my friends and I were really drawn to and there weren't a whole lot of teenage girls repped in media who felt like us and we loved them. What I also really liked about that show is that, like this movie, it was not afraid to slap its protagonists on the wrists for judging "cool"/popular kids. Daria and Jane loved each other but the one time you saw them do anything remotely affectionate in the show was in the last (I believe?) episode when Daria hugs Jane and Jane is stunned/seemed kind of uncomfortable with it. I loved the love between Molly and Amy, its openness, it's two-way Ann & Leslie feel -being best friends with the teacher? Seriously, legit. I was super close to my favorite teacher junior year and then she moved away that summer and gave me her phone number so we could keep in touch. /I've been that person who would still meet up with my favorite gym teacher like years after graduating, just to get lunch and catch up -while this genre of comedy is usually a tad too crass for me, I realized it made a huge difference when it's made by/about girls - one of whom is a lesbian!!! It's not just nonstop escalating dick jokes! It doesn't demean or hypersexualize teenage girls!! Groundbreaking!!! It wasn't like, let's be as gross as possible because dicks are everyone's favorite thing to talk about. the sex jokes felt super real/were derived from very real things (oh, Ling Ling) -that scene in the swimming pool was gorgeous. everything about it. -I liked that Amy had a crush on a girl who wasn't just like Conventional Hot Chick. A straight dude writing/directing this very likely would've done that -I think maybe most poignantly, this movie made me miss high school. So many teen movies are about how high school sucks, how it's the worst, how it's lame, isolating, or scary. This reminded me of all my fun times with my friends and what a great ride we had -my generation's high school movie was Mean Girls. An iconic and hilarious film, but not at all kind to lesbians. Having one of the leads be an out lesbian in this film, to see her be the one who gets to hook up (well, almost / I do think that happened way too fast for her character but whatever) - that is revolutionary. I'm so so so so glad for (and a little jealous of) Gen Z's wlw who get to own this movie. Lesbians aren't the butt of the joke or the freaks anymore. They're the lead you're rooting for. -BILLIE LOURD
(A couple of small quibbles: I realize it's a staple of the genre, but I didn't love the girls getting drugged. I guess it was a creative way of doing that kind of sequence but eh. Also, Molly's comment about porn being like a documentary for an inexperienced lesbian is ... not good!! Yes the Cardi B joke was funny but young wlw, that porn was not made for you in mind and if you must, proceed with caution! And whether you're straight or gay, making out with someone who was mean to you, just to prove a point, is... not the best. Molly had a bunch of set-ups to telegraph that she'd end up with the sweet/desperate rich boy; I would've loved more set-up for the girl Amy ended up with)
2) More things I love:
-how this captures that people stop caring about cliques in senior year. I remember 2 of my grade’s coolest girls like adopting me partway through senior year because we had some classes together and they thought I was funny. Suddenly they were saying hi to me in the hallway amidst all their super cool friends and even though Being Cool had never been a goal of mine I felt so legit bc these two crazy popular girls liked me. I thought of that when Nick exudes nothing but sheer joy at the sight of Molly at his party. It’s so sweet. -Barcelona -I love that this movie doesn’t fall into the cliche of making The Cool Boy Our Protagonist Likes into a douche so she’ll go swoon into the arms of the less cool guy who likes her. Nick may be a shameless flirt but he isn’t written as someone who’s evil and I like that -I love that they never go “omg, I can’t believe Ryan’s straight!” The belief that she’s queer is not challenged -Amy grinning like an idiot when Ryan’s arm touches her leg :))) -with the close-ups of feminist accoutrement in Molly’s room and the bumper stickers on Amy’s car, it really struck me how amazing it is that these are our leads. Characters like this were the least popular ones/people who got made fun of in shows/movies when I was growing up (see: Jessie on Saved By the Bell). I LOVE that unrepentant feminism is such a huge part of them -Billie Lourd takes my breath away -I want to take Hailee Steinfeld’s character out of EDGE OF SEVENTEEN and put her in this movie, where Molly and Amy would befriend her and she could date someone who wasn’t a sexist dick -I still wish Hope had been a little better developed/hadn’t been so mean -I want to hang out with my high school friends
3) Third time seeing this and honestly laughed just as hard as I did the previous two times. The jokes all land and the deliveries, the facial expressions, the camaraderie is all perfect. I like that the notion of pushing past stereotypes is even applied to Amy’s parents, when Molly makes a comment about them being Christians who totally accept their lesbian daughter. That was a nice, small touch. (It also comes up again when the pizza delivery man who, while a douche, seems to be being nice in some way by warning them to be safe and turns out to be a wanted criminal). 
Also - is Avril Lavigne’s Sk8r Boi a dated reference for this movie? Is Sully? Do the kids not have to sit alphabetically at graduation? Because everyone’s grouped with their friends. Also I went with my gay bff to see this and we died bc the theater kid’s extreme reaction when Molly kissed the dude on stage was exactly my friend’s reaction from a moment before. And if the party was so late, couldn’t they have had dinner with Amy’s parents? They’re so sweet and they put so much effort into that adorable meal (I loved Lisa Kudrow in this omg). Why did they not pick her up from jail? Why did they not take her to the airport?? (These aren’t super important questions, I guess, I’m just being kinda nit-picky. I love the last shot/line of the movie)
I’m glad it’s where it is not.I do still kinda feel like we could’ve done without the teacher hooking up with the 20-year-old student. Not sure what that brought to the table and I actually thought her saying “how crazy would that be if I just showed up?” was funny without her actually showing up. At a party with all her students. Did no one else notice her there? 
6 notes · View notes
queerchoicesblog · 4 years
Text
The Cage Of Fools
Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in the City of Lights - & Love - at the time of the Belle Epoque, at the turn of the century.
What does Élodie has in store for Léa? Find out in today’s chapter!
Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!
Next chapter out on Friday, I think!
TRIGGER WARNING: mentions to homophobia, violence
Tagging: @scottishqueer​
Previous chapters: Paris, Paris ; One Night At The Moulin Rouge , The Handkerchief
_______________________
As I wait for her, I look around, savouring the magic atmosphere of the Moulin Rouge backstage. The mix of sweat, champagne and perfume, the lively murmur coming from behind the velvet curtains...it's like being in a world of its own. A crazy secret world where you forget about the other one, outside these walls. Your miseries, the money in your pocket which is never enough, your sorrow. They're not admitted here, this place forges dreams only. It's so different from the atelier or where I live... The door of the changing room opens up again and the sound of laughters and a bottle being popped open comes from the inside. Élodie steps out just as I turn: she changed and is now wearing more ordinary clothes. I notice that she still keeps the handkerchief in her pocket. "Thank you for your patience, my dear" she smiles, approaching with a coat in her hands. "Not joining the party?" I ask, nodding at room she has just left. She looks back for a moment then meets my gaze again and shrugs. "Not tonight"
I'm a bit confused but she's probably tired. Maybe she had a long day too and can't wait to go home and crash to bed. She just asked me to stay out of politeness, maybe for my gift... I gesture her to let me help her putting on her coat. "What way are you heading? Maybe I can walk with you for-" I start but she cuts me short. "Actually I was hoping you would join me for a drink" she says, turning to face me again. "It's too early to go to sleep and I would love some company" She takes a pauses then flashes me an encouraging smile. "If you want to, that is" I'm surprised by her invitation. Me, the seamstress getting a drink with a dancer of the Moulin Rouge? I heard stories of spectators who would fight, maybe even duel for their attention or an invitation from a woman like her and now...this? Me? I try to snap out of it but before I can formulate a single word -and thought-, she speaks again as if reading my mind. "I won't insist if you can't but you've been so kind to me, travelling all the way here to bring me back my handkerchief. And I'd love to get to know you better, seamstress-poet" Her voice softens imperceptibly when she pronounces the epithet she gave me when we first met, in this very same corridor one week ago: seamstress-poet. I still hardly feel like a poet but I feel flattered: it's the second time she used it tonight as if she was quite...fond of it. And she remembered my name too. I'm quite tired to be honest, the hard work of the past few days is kicking in and for some reason my mind goes back to Marie, who's probably now sitting alone at the dinner table after saving some stew for me. She will be worried if I come home too late...yet I find the invitation alluring. And the brave, patient smile on Élodie's lips makes it even harder to decline her offer. "Yes, sure, why not?" I sigh, smiling shyly. "I'm not sure I can stay long but I'd love to". I button up my coat and Élodie claps her hands, her face brightening up. "Marvellous! Drinks on me, no arguing" she winks. Then she wraps her arm around mine and we walk into the court that leads to the main street. The moon is almost full up there in the sky and looks like she's bashfully hiding behind a veil of clouds: what made her so shy tonight? I shake my head at my silly thoughts. The night is cold, I wonder if the temperature will go below zero during the night: thank God tomorrow is my day off, I won't have to sew in miserable conditions. "So, where to, my dear friend?" Élodie asks. "Do you know any good place to go?" An inviting warmth spreads from her arm linked to mine, from our proximity. I don't have to hug myself to shake away the cold. "Mmh...I know a bar in Montmarte. I usually go there with my friends" I say, considering. "With the nice boy who lead you backstage and is not your boyfriend?" she teases, playfully. "Very well then, lead the way, mademoiselle!" I oblige but I stop after a moment. I frown: I completely forgot today's the closing day. Even a week ago we had to go somewhere else, but I can't remember where. I just followed the boys, still drunk of the wondrous performance at the Moulin. Élodie reassures me not to worry about it, we will come up with something. She grabs her chin and looks around, pondering options. After a moment, she turns back to me. "I know a spot, it's not far actually" she says and I get the feeling that she's a bit nervous now even if she tries to look cheerful as usual. "It's probably a bit different from the bars you're used to" "I'm no high-maintenance" I chuckle since she makes it sounds like I'm used to fine things, finer at least. "And I've never been in a bar at Pigalle" The thought thrills me: I know there are places I could afford but we've never been here on our nights out. We usually end up in the suburbs or down the river...Pigalle is a bit too far away from our usual routes. But it also has a reputation: they say it's the place where everyone can find their thrills. I know that some refers to the prostitues walking the streets night and day but I don't care. "No? Oh well...then to The Cage of Fools!" Élodie exclaims. "The Cage of Fools?" I laugh. "As long as you don't drag me straight to the asylum!" She laughs too, gently pushing me forward. "Why would I do that? They don't serve alcohol there!" True to her words, the place is ten minutes away or so it seems to me: I might be too distracted chatting with my new friend to notice but it wasn't far. Set at the corner of a back alley, I wouldn't have taken the Cage of Fools for a bar if I hadn't known better. It looks like a tavern with old worn wooden doors and painted glasses so smoky or dirty that you can't really see the inside. Even the sign threatens to fall any minute. The only hint of its true nature is the echo of music coming from the inside. Élodie holds the door open for me and a mix of cigarette smoke, alcohol and cheap perfumes hits my nostrils. I take a deep breath and we walk in. The place is surprisingly lively for the unassuming exterior. Tables are lined up to the sides to leave plenty of space for a dance floor at the centre. At the bottom, the bar is already crowded with costumers. At one of the stools, a singer is grazing her fingers over a little accordion just like the one one of my roommates owns. When I hear the musician's mastery, I cannot help but think it's a pity she never uses it. Élodie must be a regular here because she seems to know everyone, well almost everyone. She greets some girls chatting and playing cards at a table nearby, who kindly offer to make room for our coats. "You're early today" one of them comments as we take them off. "So what, complaining already, sweetness?" Élodie retorts, eliciting a round of laughters from the table. "She's just afraid of the competition, sunshine" another giggles before getting a shove on the shoulder from her friend who spoke first. Élodie rolls her eyes, smiling. "I'm here with a friend" she says, gesturing me to step closer. "Here, this is Léa, be kind to her, it's her first time here. Léa, my favourite foolish friends" The ladies turn towards me at unison and look at me in a way I cannot describe. Is it surprise the unreadable expression on their faces? Or else? Slightly embarassed, I wave my hand and greet them. "Ah, so this is the Léa" the one who hasn't spoken yet says, her eyes wandering between me and Élodie. "Nice to finally make your acquaintance, mademoiselle" "The Léa? I..." I start, confused, but my friend interrupts me. As a new popular jig starts playing -apparently there's a little orchestra too, not just a solo singer-, she drops our coats into the lap of one of the ladies and exclaims. "Oh I love this tune! The dance floor is screaming my name" "The can-can hasn't tired you out?" I joke, making room for her. Élodie reaches for my hand and smirks. "It takes more than a can-can to do that, my dear girl. Come, let's dance!" She pulls my hand but I freeze and ask the silliest question I could have ever formulated. "Dance? But like...with me?" I've only danced with other girls in private and they were my sisters after mom fell asleep. Oh and Marie when she wanted to rehearse beforehand in case Alain asked her to dance. I've never done it in...public. Élodie shrugs, half amused. "Afraid people will stare? Trust me, it's fine here. So, shall we?" Another sudden realisation hits me: I have never danced with a professional only for fun and when I was a bit tipsy. Or yes, where nobody could see me. I will embarrass myself... "I-I don't know the steps" I admit, blushing. Élodie smiles and pulls my hand again. "I can teach you but the real secret is...don't think, just feel the rhythm and move" When we reach the other dancing couples, I'm still unsure of what to do. I'm suddenly nervous, almost regretting being here. I stand in the position I usually take when we go dancing with the guys. Élodie looks at me, still half amused half....I don't now, maybe it's pity? "Is this how you dance with your non-boyfriend?" she asks but I sense no judgement or derisive intent in her playfulness. Then she takes my hand and places it on her shoulder. "You know what? It's fine, I'll dance the man part to make it easier for you" she winks. "But we have to stand a bit closer" A shiver runs down my spine when she wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer until our faces are inches apart and our bodies flushed together. When she speaks again, I can feel her breath on my lips. "And now showtime" she whispers, leading me into the fast paced dance. It's hard to keep pace and not step on her foot at first but she leads with confidence and tells me what to do every now and then. We bump into other couples but nobody seems to care and I don't even have to worry about falling because her arm keeps me steady. I've never danced like this, not even with other girls: she just makes it sound easy, fun. Soon I relax and gain a little bit of confidence to try some moves of my own, Élodie welcomes them with enthusiastic cheers. Just like at the Moulin Rouge the world seems to spin faster and be suddenly lighter. She must feel the same way because she's smiling again. When the tune comes to an end, we exchange a look and wait the next one. Now that my embarrassment has gone, I'm not leaving the dance floor so soon! We keep dancing, careless and free. And as we do so, thanks to less furious jigs and songs, I notice something that God knows why, I missed earlier when we entered. Élodie was right: this place is different from the bars my friends and I usually end the night in. I don't know why it took me all this time to realise such an evident detail but...on the dance floor there are only other women dancing with women and men dancing with men. Pretty much the same goes for the table or the niches or the bar. Some men are in feminine clothes and wear a wig and a rouge on their lips just like girls do; some women, included the singer, are in a masculine attire. Like cheap tuxedos and high hat or blouses and papillon that makes them look young ephebic dandies. I have never been in a place like this. I catch girls throwing lingering looks at me, taking in my full figure as I spin laughing in Élodie's arms. One even gallantly tips her hat at me and mouths something I cannot understand. I shrug smiling to signal I couldn't make out a single word and she smiles back, rising her glass. It's weird and new. I'm used to men asking to dance or dropping compliments when I'm out with my friends but women never look at me this way. At least, if they did, I have never noticed so far. Generally they're either friends or colleagues or clients who only check themselves in the mirror as I fix their clothes. This is different, this is like...being seen, regarded, admired maybe if someone likes what they see. The thought makes me blush furiously and I rest my head on Élodie's shoulder. I breathe in her scent and smile, thrilled and surprised to feel her head leaning over mine. Our hearts pound madly in our chests. We dance until I'm out of breath and ask for a little pause. Élodie takes my hand and leads me to the bar. We find two empty stools and take a seat. She asks me what I'll have and remind me that drinks are on her. Then she calls the bartender, they must know each other. "Pierrette! A glass of your finest cider for my friend here and the usual for me" She turns back to me. I'm still panting, my cheeks on fire. "You did incredibly well to be someone who 'doesn't know the steps'" "I just followed your lead" I laugh, dismissing her compliment. "You're kind but I'm a terrible dancer. Especially compared to you but it was fun" She throws me a smile veiled by the smoke of the cigarette she accepted from a guy, another friend or acquaintance I wager. "You should dance more often then. If you need a partner..." Our conversation is interrupted by the bartender approaching with our drinks. Pierette is one of those men in feminine clothes and has an incredibly sweet and welcoming smile. I tell her so when she hands me my cider and places a glass of cognac in front of my friend. "Thank you, Pierrette, you're a sweetheart" Élodie smiles, dropping coins in her hand and pulling her close to press a kiss on her cheek. The bartender bows her head and hesitates a little. Turning towards me, she adds, placing a flower on the counter: "The gentleman down there sends you this, mademoiselle" I turn towards my friend first and then towards the tables and I meet the gaze of the lady in tuxedo who tipped her hat at me while I was dancing. She courtly bows her head with a charming smile before resuming playing cards. The little violet must have been pinned to her jacket. "Look at you, already an admirer" Élodie comments, blowing off smoke. "That was...unexpected" "Do you like her? Would you like to go thank her?" I consider it for a moment: I probably should but she's playing and my friend invited me here. "Maybe later" I shake my head. "I'm here with you" I rise my glass for a toast and I think I see Élodie blushing a little at my words for the first time. "To our night out, to a new friendship" she proposes and we cling our glasses. We smile at each other then I divert my eyes, embarassed: I don't want my new friend to get the impression that I'm staring on anything. My eyes falls back on the little violet. "So, tell me, Léa, what brings a seamstress-poet like you in the City of Lights?" My story is pretty simple, actually. I tell her about my job at the atelier, a refreshing change from my maid years but at the time it was my only way out of my miserable provincial town. I share a few details of my life there, my father working as a fisherman... "Did your father fish oysters too? I think they do that up North" Élodie asks, pondering. "Oh yes, sometimes during the winter" "Ever found any pearl inside?" I laugh: I wish we did! "Had we, I would have never taken that maid job!" Élodie gives me a long lingering look before speaking again. "Maybe the reason why you never found one is simple. Maybe you are a tiny shining pearl" Sudden warmth spreads inside me, embracing my chest and the tip of my ears. "Don't tell me no one called you 'the pearl of Roscoff' back there" she adds, charming. "No, I was simply Léa, Gilles' daughter back there. If they remembered my name, that is" I shrug. "Weird people the folks of the North: they call themselves the best fishermen yet they cannot recognise a pearl when they see it" "Maybe they thought I was a mermaid" I joke to conceal how her words fluster me. Élodie seems to consider the possibility for a moment then she leans closer, our faces inches apart from each other again, and she sniffs my hair, my neck. The gesture is playful but also sensual. I don't know if that was her aim but I shut my eyes, grateful she can't hear my heart now. "No, you're not. You don't smell of tar or seaweed...and you have no tail" she declares, parting. I make a scene to look relieved as I hope she didn't notice the red on my the tip of my ears. She smiles, a gleam in her eyes. "And you?" I inquiry. "Tell me more about you" She gives a long look then drowns her drink. She tells me that she's been a dancer since the day she arrived here. Even before, actually. She started small but soon joined the dancing crew at Les Folies Bergere: I could have find her performing at the prestigious music hall a couple of months ago. She liked it there, the music acts were glorious but when she heard about the auditions for the Moulin Rouge she decided to give it a try. Why not, she thought. The rest is history. I'm amazed at how she speaks so casually of places that ignite the dreams of common girls like me, used to ordinary music halls and bars. "Do you regret leaving Les Folies?" I ask, taking a last sip of cider. "Not really, no. I still have friends there, they invite me to their acts but the Moulin is where I belong now, where I want to be. You see-" A loud ruckus suddenly erupts and people in the front start screaming. "Shit!" Élodie curses before quickly jumping off her stool. It all happens in the blink of an eye. I turn and see gendarmes pushing their way through the scared crowd that was dancing until a moment ago. Until their arrival. "Enough of your little party, you're under arrest" I hear them yell, cold and angry. Blood runs cold in my veins but I feel Élodie hands grabbing mine and pushing me off my stool too. "Follow me and run. Run!" She doesn't have to tell me twice. We sprint off in the panicked crowd, desperate for a way to escape the raid like everyone else. I only make out one voice among the screams of panic and the shouts of the gendarmes. "We're not doing anything wrong! Leave us alone" a woman is saying but she has little success against their wrath. Too soon the sinister whistle of a baton and the sound of a broken nose reach ears. Cold fear makes me shiver. "Shut up, degenerate! Secure the exits!" "This way, Léa, this way!" Élodie says, keeping pushing forward with the force of despair. We enter what looks like a storage room or a canteen and we keep running towards the door. We're halfway when Élodie let me move ahead as if shielding me from the chaos and panic coming from the main hall. More gendarmes are storming in and the door in front of us seems like our only way out. We're almost there when it slams open and another man in uniform materialises. As he spots us, he sneers and launches forward. I let out a shriek "Where do you think you're going?" he spits, furious. I duck just in time to avoid his baton and before I process what's happening, I hear him wincing. I look back and Élodie still has a fist mid air; then she grabs his shoulders and kick him hard in the groin. The gendarme collapses to the floor whining loudly. Panting, she reaches me and I grab her hand. "Run, Léa, run!" We both sprint off into the street outside and keep pushing forward and against our fatigue as we hear the shouts of other gendarmes in the distance, the echo of their boots appraching. We exchange a look and take a brisk turn to the left then one another, hoping to confuse the guards. We keep running hand in hand until our breath is short and I can hardly recognise the streets anymore. Where are we? Élodie pulls me into a back alley at the corner of a church. My knees threaten to fail to sustain me any longer but she puts an end to our mad run. We hide behind a lateral arc, the niche of a secondary access to the building but the heavy door is now closed. We both pant and I'm about to say something when Élodie spying the street nearby, places one hand on my mouth gesturing me to keep as quiet as possible. I look at her confused and a little scared but then I understand. "You sure they went this way?" The voice of a man, one of the gendarmes chasing us. "I thought so but I don't see anyone" another adds. "You stupid ass, we should have taken the other turn!" "Hey calm down, hot-head! Do you think I had fun running all the way here?" They're panting too. "They went the other way, I told you!" "What makes you so sure? Let...let me check the alley here?" Panic runs through my veins and we both hold our breath despite the exhaustion of the long run. Echoes of steps and a flash of light approaching on the ground. "I don't know, I think I see something" The lights moves closer and now a second set of steps resounds. His colleague must have followed him. I brace myself for the worst. Out of the blue a stray cat meets the light and hisses angrily before running off into the night. I hear a laughter. "Oh fuck off!" "You saw a cat? A fucking cat?" The light moves the other way: we're safe even if it was so close, too close. "Not a word, you moron" "The pussies went the other way, no point in wasting time with a cat" Another derisive laughter echoes. Élodie retrieves her hand but we keep silent until we cannot hear any steps in the distance. Then we let out a laughter, a nervous laughter to soothe our nerves. We even crack a joke about our fortuitous save. When our giggles die out though, Élodie goes quiet for a moment before breaking the silence again. "I'm sorry, I've been foolish...I shouldn't have taken you there" Her voice is somber and her lips are curled in a grimace. "Why? I liked the place and...and I even got to dance with a dancer of the Moulin Rouge: it doesn't happen every day" I say, trying to brighten the mood. I got quite a scare though and my heart is pounding like mad. Élodie smiles weakly, struggling to recover her usual mirth. "I ruined our night" "No...no, don't be silly" I wince and pull her into a hug. I don't even know what I'm doing, I just follow my instinct. I cannot bear the inconsolable guilty look on her face...I want to make it go away and see the cheerful, playful girl who was chatting and dancing with me an hour ago. Élodie hugs me back and I breath in the mix of spices and smoke radiating from her. When we finally part, our eyes meet again. Hers are so pristine like water or the stars floating in the sky above. I feel her hands cupping my cheeks, her thumb stroking my cheek as she did earlier to wipe off her rouge. She's searching my face, I don't know what she's looking for. We're so close, my breath catches again at our proximity. But suddenly she lowers her eyes and hangs her head as if in defeat. Did I do something wrong? What did she read on my face? After a moment she looks at me with a weak smile. "It's getting late and that was enough trouble for one night. Let's find a way to get you home safe and sound" A little confused and disappointed, I take her arm and we wander off into the Main Street. We soon bump into a carriage letting off its passengers and we runs towards it. I still get the feeling there was more than she actually said in her words. Élodie asks the driver to stop in a square I'm not familiar with...I cannot tell if we're in Montmarte or Pigalle. She turns towards me. "That's my stop, I live just over there" she says, pointing at a building round the corner of a street. "I'll give you some coins for your ride and he will take you home" She offers me a bunch of franques and drops them in my hand. I'm about to decline but she places one finger on my lips and closes her hand over mine. "It's the least I can do after all the trouble" "You have nothing to ask forgiveness for" I say, reading what must be going on in her mind. She gives me a tired smile and takes my free hand in hers. "Then tell me we will meet again. You will come visit me again" I smile nodding. We will meet again. "Promise?" "Promise" Her face softens and relaxes a little. She even offers me a brighter smile. Then she rises my hand to her lips and presses a feather like kiss on my knuckles. "Until we meet again, Léa" She takes off of the carriage and hands some coins to the driver before taking a step back and waving me one last goodbye. And she's walking away. The driver asks me where to go now, I stretch out of the window and tell him my address. His wip whistles and we're off into the night. As the carriage takes me away in the night, I sigh and fall back into my seat. Warmth radiates from the hand she held and brought to her lips. I close my eyes and bring it to my chest. My heart pounds just like when we were so close I could feel her breath on my lips in that arc. Or when she called me 'the pearl of Roscoff'.
13 notes · View notes
queerchoicesblog · 4 years
Text
Broken Dreams
Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in the City of Lights - & Love - at the time of the Belle Epoque, at the turn of the century.
The story of Élodie and Léa continues a bit later than usual but here we are!
Next and final chapter of this story will be out next week: stay tuned for the finale!
Tagging: @scottishqueer​
Previous chapters: Paris, Paris ; One Night At The Moulin Rouge , The Handkerchief, The Cage of Fools,  La Vie Bohème
Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!
_______________________________
The morning after, I arrive home early. When I left the apartment, Élodie was still sleeping, wrapped in a shawl. I enter my room like a ghost, I take off my favourite dress, so carefully picked last night, and let myself fall to the bed like a dead body, feeling empty and heavy at the same time. I close my eyes and doze off for an hour or two, I cannot tell. I am awaken by the voice of Marie in the other room. My friend is back. I sigh and stand, joining her and my roommates in the kitchen after putting on my robe. When she sees me, her smile is soon replaced by a concerned expression: I don't look well, am I feeling alright? No, actually not really, no. I feel sick and hurt and tired and I barely slept. A roommate dismisses her concerns, informing her that my night out is probably to blame. "Yes, I went out with some of the girls last night and I suppose I had a bit too much" I confirm: sometimes a white lie is easier than the truth. It is now,at least. "Girls...we believe she has a secret lover" the other says, handing Marie a glass of milk and a small plate of biscuits. Their words hurt more than they surely meant with their idle maliciousness: I wouldn't have given them much thought under normal circumstances, but they ring differently after Élodie's party and refusal.
My friend can't refrain a surprised gasp. "Is it true, Léa? You didn't tell me anything" "If she did, it would no longer be a secret affair" the first who spoke argues. "No, Marie, it's just a crazy theory of the ladies here" I sigh, taking a seat too. "How was your journey?" Luckily, my abrupt shift of topic works. Sipping her milk, Marie tells me of her stay in Argenteuil. Being back home after all that time has been nice and weird at the same time: so much has changed since the day she left. Her mother's hair is now turning grey and his little brother announced his engagement to the butcher's daughter, a shy gracious girl named Marguerite: they'll marry next year. Despite what the doctors feared, her Aunt is now recovering, slowly but steadily. The illness debilitated her quite a lot as she's still among the living, which is all that matters. Marie's mother is looking after her now: she's in good hands. Our conversation distracts me but less than usual. I try not to notice. I join the three of them for a late breakfast even if I have little appetite, out of inertia. Then, I go back to my room, Marie in tow. As she start unpacking her bag, I lay back on the bed, unsure of what to do. I wrap myself in the blankets, overcome by a sudden cold. "Why don't you get some rest? It helps with hungovers" she suggests, folding her clothes. I look at her, wondering if "hungover" is truly what makes me feel so wrecked. What last night truly was, a side effect of vie bohème. "Are you nursing me?" I smile weakly. "Of course, you're my friend!" she chuckles, throwing me a sympathetic look. "Close your eyes, I'll be as quiet as a little mouse" Too tired and heartbroken to protest, I do as she says. I slowly descend into a dreamless slumber, a sweet merciful oblivion I anchor to like the victim of a shipwreck holds on to a piece of wood floating in a dark stormy sea. Isn't a shipwreck a good metaphor for my condition? I dared too much and tumbled overboard... Over the weeks that follow, I do my best to blend in my old life as if nothing happened and it was all a dream, a gorgeous dream I had to wake up from sooner or later. I work twice as hard as I used to and my efforts don't go unnoticed, especially now that we have so many orders and so little time on our hands. One day our infamous supervisor gave me an appreciative look and a surprisingly polite smile: keep up the good job and a promotion might be in store in the new year, she said. Marie overheard and winked at me from her desk. As the year inexorably comes to an end, we don't get to see our friends as often as we used to before she left but we keep in touch somehow and make plans for the New Year's Eve celebrations. Something to look up to, right? Life goes back to the way it was and I am grateful. Yet I cannot fool myself, I know it too painfully well. I miss Élodie terribly, unbearably but I don't dare to try and see her again. I avoid crossing Pigalle and Montmartre, I keep my distance from the Moulin Rouge. After what she said, I think she wouldn't like to see me. I've waited weeks for a letter, a note, whatever sign from her but nothing came. It hurts, especially at night when at times sleep is slow to come and I am left all alone with my thoughts. I shut my eyes and she is there, laughing as we gallop down the corridor, whispering my name like a prayer, kissing my lips in the moonlight. Then she dissolves when morning comes, an hurtful remainder that she's gone. A week before Christmas, Marie reads me a letter from home: after hearing what I did for her while she was away, her family invites me to spend the festivities at Argenteuil. If I have no plans to travel back to Roscoff, they would be delighted to have me as a guest. Of course going back home is out of question, so I accept. They welcome me with the warmth everyone would reserve to a relative they don't see often but who hold a special place in their hearts and I must confess, it touches me. Marie and her brother show me around while her mother cook us one of the best meals I have ever had. Even Aunt Odette helps, despite Marie's concerns. Sitting at their table, listening stories and eating a delicious Galette Des Rois, I feel at home, for a moment. I wish I could have felt that way in Roscoff too but it never happened. We leave after an interminable series of hugs and wishes. Marie's father makes me promise to attend the wedding next year, I offer to help sewing the wedding dresses, the groom's and Marguerite's. They all keep waving at us until our carriage takes a turn and disappear from view. We arrive back in Paris just in time for the New Year's celebrations: we greet 1890 drinking cheap champagne and dancing by the river, barely acknowledging the sleet withening the streets of the City of Lights. On our way back home, we share our dreams and hopes for the new year before the mad routines of our lives sets back into motion. I must say that for once I am thankful to the routine I complained about at times through the years. There is something oddly comforting in it now that I am trying to be a whole again. Then one week later, something unexpected happens. I am at work, cutting fabric for a new dress when our supervisor storms in. At first, I fear I am in trouble because she makes a beeline for me. Luckily, I am not: she is just going hysterical because the secretary of a certain Monsieur Toussaint, a loyal costumer and 'a most respectable lawyer', is here to collect an order with urgency but she has no idea where the suit is: the girl who took care of - and made a mess with - the order is sick that day. She adds other anxious mumbling but I don't understand a word. It's clear though what she wants. I assure her I will go find it immediately: as I leave my desk, she squeals to hurry, faster, faster! Away from her hysterical pressure, I find it in no time and head to the hall downstairs after checking myself in the mirror: we must look put together when meeting costumers. Or costumers' secretaries, I suppose. When I reach the ground floor, I see her. A young woman is waiting, patiently looking out the window. The cloak looks oddly familiar: it must be pretty popular these days. I address her with the dignified politeness and affability we have been instructed to have with our costumers. When she turns, I stop mid-sentence: it's not just the cloak, even her face is familiar. "Oh hello, Amélie..." She blinks twice and for a moment a shade of pink colours our cheeks as if our being acquaintances and the circumstances of our meetings make us suddenly shy. She recovers quickly though, and offers me a hand to shake. We chat a little but we don't have much time: duty calls for both of us. She's already heading towards the main door when she suddenly stops. I'm about to ask her if she forgot something, her gloves maybe when she speaks again. "You...don't know what happened, then?" I freeze. A name immediately crosses my mind followed by a growing concern: Élodie. "What? What happened?" She winces and walks back to the counter. In a somber tone and keeping her voice low, she tells me that it was New Year's Eve. The Moulin hosted a huge party to celebrate the success of its opening. Élodie performed in la quadrille that night, as usual. The routine was running smoothly and the dancers lined up for the hat kick. Out of the blue, a visibly drunk spectator grabbed Élodie's foot and pulled her, probably in an attempt to take off her boot or whatever he was thinking. Two gentlemen nearby promptly intervened, pushing him back and freeing her from his clutches, but damage was already done. Élodie lost balance and took a bad fall to the ground. She stood again, helped to her feet by Laurent, and kept dancing till the end. But when she made it to the backstage, she collapsed again, in tears and great pain. "The doctor said that with an ankle in that conditions, it was a miracle she even managed to stand up again" Amélie explains. "Oh God...I knew nothing of it" I cover my mouth with my hand. "I thought so" she grimaces. "How...how is she now?" "Very depressed: she spends her days lying in bed and refusing to see anyone. I had to insist and almost force my way in her room to visit her" She takes a pause. "You see, the doctor told she cannot dance now. Maybe anymore. Not as she did, anyway" I cannot even fathom the effect those words must have had on Élodie: dancing is everything to her. It's like saying to a bird it will no longer fly because they will tie one of its wings. "It can't be..." I reach to the counter for support. No, it can't be... "I know....a tragedy" she agrees. "But you should go see her. I'm sure it will make her happy and maybe you can make her change her mind" Cold dread washes over me as she leaves but I have a new steely resolution now. The following day, after work, I am knocking at Élodie's apartment's door. I am greeted by a young man with a pair of blonde moustaches who introduces himself as 'Louis Renard, painter extraordinaire'. I explain him the reason of my visit and he nods sympathetically, letting me in. He and the other roomates are all worried for El, he says: she's refusing to eat and talk and they only hear her cry. They don't know what to do to help, but "maybe you can, maybe she will listen to her friends", he adds encouragely as we stop in front of her door. Luis clears his throat and knocks but no answer comes. "Él, sunshine? Guess what news I bring? You have a visitor...a friend here came to-" "Go away, I don't wanna see anyone" Luis shakes his head and throws me a pained look. Her voice is so different from the last time I heard it. "But she's here, she came for you. At least-" "I'm tired, I need to rest" Luis opens his mouth for one last attempt to reason with her but I raise my hand, gesturing him to let me try. "Élodie? It's me, Léa, remember? I've heard what happened and I just want to check in on you. If you're tired, I will let your rest and wait here until you wake up. But I will not leave without seeing you" No answer comes again, only silence on the other side. Luis and I hold our breath for a moment then I say: "I will let you sleep, I'm in the other room" Luis shows me the way and we walk down the corridor. I grimace: what was I expecting? Amélie said it all herself... I am taking a seat, bracing myself for a long painful wait when her voice resounds again behind the closed door. "Come in" Luis and I exchange a look then he smiles. He has to go now, he must deliver his latest painting, but I am welcome to stay. Keep an eye on El in the meantime, would you?, he asks. My heart is racing when I open her door: I have gone through what to say to her on my way here so many times but I can't remember a single word now. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves before stepping in. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. Élodie is sprawled over the bed and props herself up when I enter the room. She offers a weak smile, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders before diverting her eyes. She looks tired, a shadow of her usual self. "Léa, what a surprise..." Her voice is feeble, a whisper; her hair askew fall on her face, hiding her visage. At the bottom end of the bed lay her legs, barely covered by wrinkled blankets, the same that once welcomed our passionate embrace. My heart aches at the memory of it and at the sight of her right ankle, wrapped up in tight bandages and held in place by wooden sticks on each sides. "I came as soon as I heard the news" I grimace. She nods somberly, always avoiding my gaze. "I-I should have known you would but you didn't have to after-" Before she can complete the sentence, her voice breaks and even if I can't see her face, I know she's crying. I don't even have to think: I run by her side and pull her into a tight hug, tight enough to hopefully offer her an anchor. She immediately wraps her arms around my waist and I feel her tremble against me as she succumbs to her grief. Her career is over, she says between sobs, she will lose everything and what will she do now? She always knew it wouldn't have lasted forever but now it's too soon, she's still young, too young to end it so soon. I caress her hair, calming, soothing. She buries her head against my side. It's a terrible thing to see: lovely mirthful Élodie shattered, defeated. The worst thing is I can do very little for her apart standing here by her side and holding her as she cries her heart out. I keep stroking her curls even when her sobs subside at last and she takes long breaths, grasping for air. "We'll figure something out" I say out of the blue. She parts and meets my gaze, her eyes puffy and red. "We'll figure something out" I repeat, brushing away a tear with my thumb. I have no idea how but there must be a way out of this, I don't know. In the meantime, I do the only reasonable thing I can think of: I take care of Élodie. I visit her almost every day and bring her food so she won't starve herself. She's a bit hard to convince at first: she keeps saying I don't have to do this but I am more stubborn than her. One day, she takes my hand into her and she apologises for disappearing on me: she regrets it dearly and missed me more than words can tell. Her voice trembles as she speaks and I believe mine does too when I smile to her and say I missed her too. Funny how a bunch of words, the words we need or hope to hear, can make the world around us a bit brighter and warmer even in the heart of winter. One evening, I head towards her apartment with my usual gifts. As I take off my coat and hand it to Luis, I hear her: Élodie is singing a doleful song I have never heard. A memory of her childhood maybe since she recalls the words so well. I hear her from the main room: her voice, albeit a little uncertain, is utterly beautiful. Melancholic, modulated, melodious. That kind of voice you would never get tired of listening, over and over again, like a lullaby. When I reach the threshold of her room, she's looking out of the window, absentmindedly, playing with a loose strand of her. She turns towards me and stops, offering me a smile instead. "What was that?" I ask, walking closer. "Oh, nothing, just an old tune" she shrugs. "I don't even know why it even crossed my mind after all this time" "I got you a book and a little treat" I hand her a cheap edition of a novel a colleague gifted me and a slice of cake I bought on the way there. Élodie's eyes bright up as if I brought her a shiny diamond rock. "You're spoiling me, little pearl" she smiles, unwrapping the sweet. "Here, have some!" I lean down to press a kiss on the top of her head. "No no, it's for you only" She takes a bite and scoots over so that I can take a seat beside her. "Charming" She reaches out and kisses my cheek. The crumbs on her lips tickle, making me chuckle. "What's the story of the book?" she asks, mouth half full. I pick it up and adjust at her side. "I'm not sure honestly...I think it's a romance. I thought it might keep you company" "Sweet" she comments. "....or spicy. Let's see! You're not leaving so soon, right?" I smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. She leans into the touch, a sweet expectancy in her eyes. "No, I'll stay. We can read it together when you finish" She smiles again, nodding and checking the back of the book to get an idea of the plot. As I watch her eating and skimming the book I brought her, I cannot stop thinking of the little tune I caught her singing a moment ago. I look at her and she seems so blissfully unaware of the gracious beauty she filled the room with. When she takes the last bite, she hands me the book to read. "Sounds like a nice story. Shall we?" I take the book in my hands but I hesitate. "Sure, but first could you sing that song again?" I knew my request would surprise her. "Yes but...why?" she asks, sitting straighter. A smile crosses my lips as I place a hand over hers. "I have an idea"
11 notes · View notes