#ya know just your regular family drama

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DARK FATE Animate Tokuten Drama CD “I’m the Strongest! ~Subaru VS Yuma VS Ayato~“

Original title: 最強はオレだ！ ～スバルVSユーマ時々アヤト～」

Source: Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE Animate Tokuten Drama CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru, Takashi Kondou & Tatsuhisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: Even though I have listened to this CD at least five times by now, it still remains hilarious. Definitely one of my favorites although I realize that I’m biased because of Subaru and Yuma. I also really enjoy the dynamic of Ayato with either one of them as well. He’s an A+ troll in this one and I live for it, haha. It also reminded me of the one sub-scenario in VC where Subaru and Yuma try to decide who is stronger by arm-wrestling, but it ends with a draw when the two of them break the table in the process. I guess Yuma has the physical advantage but Subaru is a pureblood Vampire so he has the edge there, balancing things out in the end. 

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

*Rattle* 

Yuma: …Fuckin’ shithead of a Teacher! Goin’ on forever with their stupid preachin’...!

Subaru: Exactly. And the fact I was in there gettin’ scolded alongside you is what pisses me off the most. 

Yuma: Aah!? That’s my line! ーー Haah…If Ruki finds out I got scolded by a teacher…

Subaru: Heh. Must be rough havin’ a ‘dad’ keepin’ you in check. I’m glad I don’t have to worry ‘bout that in my family. 

Yuma: Nah, you’ve got one of those too, don’t ya? Ya know, Mr. ‘Smarty Glasses’. 

Subaru: You’re talkin’ ‘bout Reiji? I mean, it’s definitely annoyin’ how he’ll always find somethin’ to complain ‘bout. 

Ayato runs into them. 

Ayato: …Hm? Now this is a duo you don’t see every day. What are you guys up to over there? 

Subaru: Che…Ayato, huh? 

Yuma: Why, ya ask? Can’t ya read? Look. 

Ayato: Hm? …’Student counselor’...? Pfft! Lame! Both of you got called in? What did you do this time? 

Subaru: Oi! Don’t make it sound like I’m a regular at this place! Haah…It wasn’t a big deal, really. 

Yuma: …Ah? Not a big deal, you say? Fuck off! ーー Oi, Ayato! You’re this dude’s big bro, aren’t ya? Then make sure to teach him some proper manners! Tell him that you’re not supposed to go ‘round kickin’ rocks into someone else’s garden!

Ayato: Haah…? The fuck…? 

Yuma: This fucker had the nerve to kick a rock right into the vegetable garden I had been secretly growin’ behind the school building!

Subaru: How many times do I have to tell you that’s not what happened!? Your stupid vegetable garden just happened to be right where the rock landed, that’s all! I had no idea it was even there after all. 

Yuma: I mean, I made sure to kick it into the opposite direction before it could hit the garden, but then it ended up breakin’ the glass of the principal’s office. 

Ayato: And that’s why you got called in? Somethin’ along the lines of ‘let’s not fight and try to get along?’ …Lame! Hahaha…

Subaru: Shut up!

Ayato: By the way, which one of you is stronger? 

Subaru: …!? What are you askin’ all of a sudden? 

Yuma: Which one of us is stronger? No point in askin’ that, is there? It’s obviously none other than myself!

Subaru: Aah!? Look who’s talkin’! I’m obviously the stronger one!

Yuma: Nah, it’s me.

Subaru: Are you deaf!? It’s me!

Ayato: Ahーah. We won’t get anywhere like this. How about Yours Truly decides which one of you is stronger? 

Yuma: Bring it on! But don’t ya dare show bias towards this Shut-in ‘cause he’s yer brother. 

Subaru: Who are you callin’ a Shut-in!? 

Ayato: Yeah, no worries. You really think I’d stand up for this guy? 

Yuma: True that.

Subaru: Tsk…You said you’ll decide, but how are you gonna do that? Should we fight or somethin’? 

Yuma: I won’t lose in a battle of fists. 

Ayato: Geez, you guys don’t get it at all. That’s not what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. We’re goin’ to determine your strength in various categories. 

Subaru: …!? It kind of pisses me off to hear Ayato say somethin’ intelligent for once…

Yuma: Yeah, gotta agree with ya there…

Ayato: Well, I guess that just shows the difference between us. Anyway, I’m gonna present a couple of ideas to you two. …First up is physique! What’s your height and weight? 

Subaru: My height is 178 cm and my weight is…67 kg.

Yuma: Wait, your height is 178 cm!? Hah! Midget!

Subaru: Midget!? …How tall are you then, huh!? 

Yuma: Me? My height is 190 cm. And I weigh 70 kg. 

Ayato: Eh!? Subaru…You’re a whole 12 cm shorter than this dude! Wow…Talk about lame!

Subaru: One sec…You’re 174 cm tall, aren’t you? You’re even shorter than I am!

Ayato: My stats don’t matter right now. …Well then, I guess Yuma wins this category. 

Yuma: How’s that? 

Subaru: …!! No, strength is defined solely by one’s physique. 

Yuma: Sounds like someone’s a sore loser.

Ayato: Anyway, we’re gonna test which one of you has the stronger mind next. 

Yuma: How are ya gonna determine that? 

Ayato: Good question. …How about this? Let’s say the two of you did somethin’ wrong. 

Subaru: Sure. 

Yuma: And? 

Ayato: Reiji or Ruki will be on your case when they find out, right? 

Subaru: …

Yuma: …

Ayato: Tell me how you’d react to them. 

Subaru: Ignore him. 

Yuma: Apologize. 

Ayato: Ahー Subaru gets this one. 

Yuma: Nah, that doesn’t make any sense! You’d ignore him, the fuck!? 

Subaru: You really think I’m gonna bother listenin’ to that guy’s lecture? Your route of apologizin’ is out of the question. 

Ayato: Yeah! I agree as well. There’s nobody in our family who actually takes Reiji’s scoldings seriously. 

Yuma: …I feel for the dude. 

Ayato: So? How come you’d choose to apologize? 

Yuma: Ya guys just don’t understand how terrifyin’ Ruki can be! …Aah, I’m gettin’ the shivers just from rememberin’...

Subaru: The fuck happened…?

Ayato: Anyway, Subaru wins this round. 

Yuma: Yeah, yeah, let him have the win. 

Subaru: Che…Why are you soundin’ so confident? Don’t be cryin’ ‘bout it later!

Ayato: Next…You’ll be pitted against each other based on how you wear your school uniform!

Yuma: How we wear our uniform? I don’t see how that’s related to determining our strength? 

Ayato: Nah, that’s not true. I mean, take a look at Subaru’s uniform!

Subaru: Hah…? 

Ayato: The fabric is all ripped up and he’s got some chains hangin’ from it as well. 

Subaru: Oi! Don’t make it sound like I’m the one who ripped it to shreds! It was handed to me in this state!

Yuma: I mean, I guess it looks ‘strong’ in more than one way. Hahaha....

Subaru: Don’t you dare laugh, Yuma!!

Ayato: On the other hand we’ve got Yuma’s uniform…

Yuma: Mine hasn’t been customized all that much. Ruki wouldn’t let me live it down if I added too many accessories to it. 

Subaru: Still, you’ve got quite a few buttons of your shirt open, don’t you? You need to button it all the way up. 

Yuma: Shut up, it’s just fine like this. I can barely breathe when it’s closed to the top. 

Ayato: Hmー 

Subaru: I really don’t see how this’ll tell anythin’ ‘bout our strength. Let’s just not. 

Ayato: I’m decidin’ the winner right now so shut up!

Yuma: You’re actually makin’ a choice? 

Ayato: I’ve made my decision. 

Subaru: Who is it? Who’s stronger? 

Ayato: Yours Truly!

Subaru: …

Yuma: …Hah? 

Subaru & Yuma: Haaah!? 

Ayato: Lookin’ at both of your get-ups made me realize, you see…Both of you look hella lame. 

Subaru: Fuck off! It was never ‘bout clothes in the first place, was it!? 

Yuma: And what do ya mean ‘lame’, haah!? 

Ayato: My uniform is the coolest of the bunch, in other words, I take this round!

Yuma: Hah! This is one fucked up competition!

Ayato: Well then, this is the final round. Right now it’s a draw with each of us havin’ one point after all. 

Subaru: Why are you participatin’ as well…? 

Ayato: For starters, check this out…!

*Thud* 

Subaru: Wha…!? This is…!? 

Yuma: A picture of…the Sow!? 

Ayato: Heh! What do you think? 

Yuma: How did you…? 

Ayato: I stole it from a certain someone. 

Subaru: W-What are you…goin’ to do with this picture…? 

Ayato: It’s easy. I want you guys to confess your love towards the Chichinashi in this picture. 

Yuma: Aah!? It’s kinda creepy to do that when it’s just us three dudes ‘round, don’t you think? Why not just actually bring her here instead? 

Subaru: Yeah! Exactly! Where is she right now? 

Yuma: She’s probably in her classroom, no? I’ll go call her real quick. 

Ayato: Ah, you can’t do that. 

Yuma: And why not!? 

Ayato: She’ll end up findin’ out where I got this picture. 

Yuma: Ah? The fuck? 

Subaru: Find out…? Ayato, where did you get this picture? It’s not from Laito? 

Ayato: Idiot. Who knows what kind of pictures that guy would pull out. I took this one…directly from her own room. If she finds out I’m usin’ it for this, it’ll only complicate things even further.

Yuma: Ahー I guess it can’t be helped then…

Subaru: ‘It can’t be helped’...!? Don’t you think there’s other things we should point out here!? 

Ayato: Anyway, we’re gonna settle things with this round. Whoever takes the win can have this picture. 

Yuma: For real…!? 

Subaru: …!!

Ayato: What do you say? I bet you’re feelin’ a little more up for it now, huh? 

Subaru: W-Who…would even want such an ugly photo!? Hah!

Yuma: ‘Kay. I guess Subaru’s droppin’ out of the competition then. 

Subaru: Wha…!? I-I bet you don’t want this picture either, do you!? 

Yuma: Nah, I want it. I was just lookin’ for somethin’ I could pin to the face of my scarecrow. 

Ayato: Fuck off! Don’t be usin’ the picture which took me blood, sweat and tears to obtain for somethin’ like that! I’ll keep it in that case!

Subaru: H-Hold up…! You were never part of this competition in the first place, were you!? So I guess I have no other choice…but to take it instead. 

Ayato: What’s that? You really can’t be honest with yourself, can you, Subaru? If you want it that badly, then just honestly say so. 

Subaru: …!? I don’t really…

Yuma: Then why bother participatin’...? 

Subaru: Che…Shut up!! I’m in, end of the story!

Ayato: ‘Kay! Now you’re talkin’! You can go first then, Subaru. 

Subaru: Ah!? Me!? 

Yuma: Exactly. You seem rarin’ to go, so I’ll let ya go first.

Subaru: N-No…I…

*Flip* 

Ayato: Here you go. Give it your best shot while lookin’ at the picture. 

Subaru: Umh…Well…

Yuma: Oi, hurry up! We haven’t got all day!

Subaru: …Ugh…Ahー You know…Well…You’re alwaysーー 

Ayato: Oh! Is that Chichinashi walkin’ over there? 

Subaru: Wah!? T-This is…It’s not what you think…!!

Subaru quickly rips up the picture. 

Ayato: Haha, just kiddin’...!

Subaru: …Hah!? 

Ayato: The fuck…Subaru, you lil’ shit! Why did you rip the picture apart!? 

Subaru: N-Not my fault! Maybe if you didn’t say that stupid shit!

Yuma: Oi…What are we gonna do ‘bout this? I’m pretty sure even the Sow will get mad if she finds out ‘bout this? 

Ayato: Not my problem! Subaru’s the one who shred it to pieces!

Subaru: But you’re the one brought it out, right!?

Yuma: Ah, shut up! You’re the one at fault here, Subaru. This means I’m the winner, right? 

Subaru: Hell no! We should have never tried to determine strength through this kind of shitty competition anyway!

Yuma: Heck yeah. A man’s true strength is defined by how he performs in battle after all. 

Yuma cracks his knuckles. 

Subaru: Fine by me. …You’re on!

*THUD*

Yuma: Take this!! 

*THUD*

Ayato: Ahーahー I can’t believe they’ve started fightin’ in the middle of the hallway like that. Not my problem! …So, who was stronger in the end? 

Yuma: Hah! That’s all you’ve got!?

*Thud* 

Subaru: Shut up!!

Ayato: Haah…In the end, the strongest guy has to be Yours Truly! Well then, guess I’ll dip before one of the teachers gets here. 

Ayato walks away.

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #yuma mukami #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

[justicerikai]

Charisma House - Superhuman Sharehouse Story “Charisma” - #84 What must be done

Please read alongside listening to the drama track on Youtube.

Let me know if I missed something!

TL note:

What does Amahiko mean with "burners" & "lingalamambo"? Good question! I don't know either.

Ohse: (Amahiko-san seemed like a whole different person from the way he was strangely nervous while staying at his parent’s house.) 

Iori: I’m baaaack. I went out to do some shopping.

Amahiko: Iori-san, please leave that to the people of the house.

Iori: I am a slave so pay no mind♪

Amahiko: ….

Amahiko: Such a handful… I will bring these in then.

Iori: Wait!

Amahiko: ?

Iori: Aren’t you curious about what I bought? Wanna see? 

Amahiko: Pardon?

Iori: Ta-daaah! Enoki!

Amahiko: ….

Amahiko: Enoki, right.

Iori: ….! Eeh, then this, eringi!

Amahiko: Uh-huh.

Iori: ….! Shiitake!

Amahiko: ?

Iori: Cucumber! Eggplant! Gourd! Banana!

Iori: ASPARAGUS!!!

(Iori throws everything away and takes an athletic stance.)

Iori: COME!

Iori: AMAHIKO-SAN COMEEEE!!!!!

Amahiko: I will provide the payment later.

(Iori stomping around)

Iori: NOOOO!! COME ON!!!

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Ohse, Rikai: Amahiko-san/Amahiko!

Amahiko: !? What are you all doing! Running around like that---

Sarukawa: We’re all gonna take a bath together

Amahiko: A bath, at this hour.

Fumiya: Bathing, Amahiko.

Ohse: Indeed, a bath.

Rikai: We’re bathing, Sensei.

Iori: Your local slave shall also participate!

Amahiko: I-I see… Enjoy yourselves.

Fumiya: No, not just us.

Sarukawa: We are ALL bathing, Amahiko!

(The five of them all stance up and beckon him with both hands) 

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Ohse, Rikai, Iori: Come! Come! Coomeeee! Sensei! Amahiko!

Amahiko: Then I’ll go ahead and inform the servants of the house to prepare the bath.

(The five of them all founder on the floor)

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Ohse, Rikai, Iori: COME OOOOON!!!!

Iori: He’s not going with the flow!

Rikai: The bait’s ineffective!

Sarukawa: This sucks! What a sham of a Minister of Sexy Affairs!

Fumiya: Retire, bonehead

(The five of them all complaining)

Terra: Um, what is everyone doing?

Fumiya: Ah….

Fumiya: Not enough Amahiko….

Terra: Huh?

Iori: Before I knew it, my whole body came to yearn for those acts of sexual harassment…! 

Terra: EEEEH!?

Sarukawa: How bland it all feels now that it’s gone…!

Rikai: He got domesticated right under our noses…!

Ohse: Oh heavens, how terrific

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Ohse, Rikai, Iori: World Sexy Ambassador!

Terra: WUH???

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Ohse, Rikai, Iori: Sigh….

Rikai: (It’s the kind of sight everyone’s familiar with.)

Rikai: (The time we spent together on the regular was detrimental to our sanity, if anything.)

Rikai: (But once we saw what we had lost- how much of it was indispensable, important to us, it all became clear.) 

Rikai: (Regardless, by then it had far been too late…)

Terra: (I mean, yeah but. I think this and that are like, two totally different things---)

Rikai: (And then separation came suddenly.)

Terra: (EEEH!?)

Rikai: Phew~ Great job there.

Fumiya: Big thanks.

Iori: Where are we off to next?

Sarukawa: We gotta head back soon, yea

Rikai: ?

Iori: ….? Amahiko-san?

Amahiko: …This will be it for me.

Amahiko: I must go my separate way from everyone.

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Rikai, Iori: Eh?

(They all run up to Amahiko)

Rikai: What do you mean, Amahiko-san

Iori: I don’t get it…

Fumiya: Why

Sarukawa: What’s gotten into ya…

(The four of them are flustered)

Ohse: ….! It’s inevitable.

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Rikai, Iori: ?

Fumiya: Ohse?

Ohse: Amahiko-san can’t keep doing whatever he pleases forever. 

Ohse: He’s a person with a responsibility, with a duty he must fulfill.

Ohse: The home of his family is an important place he has to go back to.

Sarukawa, Fumiya, Rikai, Iori: …!

Rikai: That can’t be… 

(Fumiya grabs Amahiko)

Fumiya: Cut the crap, Amahiko. What’re you pulling this for now

Fumiya: We’re already too far gone, our bodies won’t survive without you.

Terra: HUH!?

Iori: How cruel! Take responsibility! For molding our bodies into this!

Terra: Waitwaitwait

Sarukawa: The fuck’s supposed to pleasure us now, huh!

Terra: What are you on!?

Ohse: Amahiko-san… I’m sorry…

Ohse: I… actually overheard the conversation with your father…

Ohse: You have no choice but to stay, isn’t that right?

Amahiko: ….? What is this about?

Ohse: Eh?

Amahiko: That’s entirely unrelated. 

Ohse: EH!?

Rikai: Huh.. T-then, um Amahiko-san, why must you go your own way then?

Amahiko: The reason I must leave you all behind, is…

Amahiko: For the sake of my long-cherished dream!

Amahiko: To participate in the Sexy World Cup!

Terra: Hah?

Fumiya: Sexy World Cup….!

The five of them: It’s, coming, no? It has to… 

The five of them: Or did it already? Wait holy shit… Here it comes!

Terra: Uuuh, uuum what? I’m like, so lost it’s making me puke.

(Luxurious, sparkling sound)

Amahiko: A sexy carnival held once every four years.

Amahiko: When this Brazilian tournament is around the corner, naughty rascals gather from all over the world to show such parts and these kinds of parts.

Amahiko: And from doing that and this sort of thing in public, there will be one sole champion.

Amahiko: The “Perfect Ecstasy”

Amahiko: The burners amuse themselves with lingalamambo and guzzle down lemonade.

Amahiko: Everyone- No, the whole world lays the sex within itself bare, to confront and release-

Amahiko: A halelamaya from head to toe! 

Amahiko: A grand meeting of the Amorous Congress! That is! THE WORLD SEXY CUUUUUP!!!!!

Terra: I dun’ get it.

The five of them: I see!

Terra: HEY!

Amahiko: I will certainly be crowned with victory.

Amahiko: My life’s purpose of cultivating sexiness was all for the sake of this.

Amahiko: A dream that I have to fulfill, no matter the sacrifices.

Amahiko: It’s been the only thing on my mind lately, which in turn might’ve made me nervous.

Ohse: So it had nothing to do with your family.

Amahiko: They’re completely irrelevant.

Amahiko: The needed preparations will be done after this, and the departure abroad will happen without informing my family.

The five of them: Thank god!

Terra: Hell no!

Amahiko: However, there’s no doubt the professor will track us down if we all stand out from departing together.

Amahiko: I cannot bear the thought of being a burden to everyone.

Amahiko: Thus it is for this reason that we must separate.

The five of them: ….

Amahiko: “As to why I am so hung up on winning this tournament, I couldn’t have told you myself. However, I have a hunch that I understand now. Perhaps my answer lies within all these lovely days I spent with everyone.”

Amahiko: “The joy of others accepting you for who you are, the amalgamation of impulses that stimulates one as a person- it was impossible for me to not grasp the source of my own libido.”

Amahiko: “Everyone, thank you for everything that you’ve done for me. Keep in mind to nominate me.”

Amahiko: “World Sexy Ambassador, the Minister of Sexy Affairs.”

Rikai: F-from… Tendou Amahiko.

Fumiya: (And that is how we all ended up going our separate ways.)

(Sarukawa, Fumiya, Ohse, Rikai, Iori all crying) Terra: THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

#charisma house #charismahouse #kusanagi rikai #tendou amahiko #motohashi iori #ito fumiya #terra #sarukawa kei #minato ohse

[breadsandwiches]

Wanted to share my tdp playlists bc i honestly like how they turned out! 💃

Some of these were recommended by dragonprinceofficial! (a, c, v, s)

(Very in depth and thought provoking comments about my fave songs under the cut >>>)

AARAVOS

Time, Stars, Universe Pretty ethereal star god vibes

Play with Fire Whatever his beef with the Sunfire peeps, im enjoying it and am glad he is too. slay queen (literally)

Dishonored 2 Main Theme creepy ominous spider-spinning-its-web vibes ok?

Inside the Cage Listen to sexy mental breakdown song.

In the Palace ~ Agitato Creepy fucked up butterfly beast. For context watch HxH, its fun!!! 😀 (< dead inside) Also soundtrack for Aaravos losing his mind in prison and making his puppets dance till their feet bleed! 😍

Adore Adore The story can change at the roll of a dice babeyy 😎 no fr the lyrics are fire

Throne Wrath and violence on planat earth

Nosk Spider-pulling-in-its-prey vibes. Callum wyd 👁👁

Dark Matter The drama.. the vibes.. "bring me your soul bring me your ~HATE~" *insert elmo fire gif*

Black Train/End Credits ~piano~ Also death etc. etc. idek. damn should this be on viren or claudia's playlist instead? 🤔

CLAUDIA

Restless Year I always imagine her dancing or playing the bass to this. Also this song was literally written about her /lie

W.I.T.C.H. We all know this would be on her playlist in a modern au.

My Zero It's fine, she's just gradually losing grip of her family and also herself, she's losing her beginnings 😀👍 ok

Selfless "You're mucking off, but I will live for you, my selfless love". Screaming crying throwing up etc.

Fireflies Nothing to say here except that it's perfect.

A Victory of Love Objectively a bop. Songs that make me Ascend™

Galaxies Honestly im just rlly invested in the modern au where she's a bassist in a cool band and this is one of the songs theyd be playing. but also the lyrics kinda fit

Spanish Sahara She can have a little vengeance as a treat. Also trauma <3

Young and Tragic sad :( baby magefam feels :((

VIREN

The Unquiet Grave he's a corpse 👍

Werewolf Heart Thinking about Harrow, thinking about Lissa maybe. also those wolves and screams?? sir... 🧍‍♂️ Also sexy bass. what more do you want.

Mohammed Most sexy guitar ive ever heard ever im not joking. leave me alone

LA PAURA DEL BUIO lyrics fit pretty well. also this playlist has a criminal lack of angry rock songs

Fight Like Gods Lyrics and such

Way down We Go idk how to describe it without saying the word sexy again :/

The Sun Pretty 😳

Sleep Oughg (< relates a bit too much)

Ashes to Ashes idk man, its just pretty. like Viren <3 <3 <3

Into Dust damn ok tdpo

SOREN

Beautiful Day idk this just has Soren all over to me. the early sunrise wake up feeling, the hopeful optimism idk man

Uptown Funk Originally wasn't putting this in but it is Sooo S1-2 Soren. Also this

Back Against The Wall A+ rec from tdpo

Ode To The Mets I am so normal about this song so normal i listen to it a regular amount haha *insert one of those feral stick figures with blood all over*

Run Magefam feels 💃

Edge of Darkness Next on Songs that make me Ascend™. "I've got love in my heart for an army apart" :(

Fill Your Heart This is one of my fave songs ever its so joyful i love it and I love Soren

Obstacles This song is already Not Ok on its own, but combined with the Soren-Claudia feels it's an atrocity 👍 Songs for floating away on a river never to return

What's Up Ya boy might not always be the brightest but he's definitely the more emotionally intelligent one also i love him so much hhskvhvhhvhvhbv

#the dragon prince #aaravos #claudia tdp #lord viren #viren tdp #soren tdp #i spent WAY too much time on this #at least it was fun #songs were chosen based firstly on vibe and secondly on lyrics #also i have sacrificed like more than 5 strokes songs are you proud 😪 #balance in all things etc. etc. 😊 #anyway this is me showing you my neatly sorted pebble and/or rock collection except they're songs #i just think they're neat #my thoughts #music tag

[emptystove]

The Long Con - Ch 4

One Piece Fanfic (Romance/Drama/Suspense)

Pairing: Nami x Law

Rating: EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY

Description: Nami is working as an officer in Arlong's gang. A job goes south, and she is forced to make up for it infiltrating a notorious crime family to gather intel for Arlong. When everyone has their own agenda, plans quickly take a turn. Nami x Law and one-sided Vinsmokes x Nami.

Posted to AO3, FanFiction, and Wattpad under HortyCord.

Chapter 4 - The Game

Law traced his fingers idly over the hilt of his sword as he mulled over the information he received. Nami had just recounted her visit to the Vinsmoke Manor in great detail.

"So," Law finally spoke. "You beat Niji at pool three times straight?"

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

"After everything I told you, that's your question?!"

Law ignored her and continued. "You told him you thought he let you win, but he didn't, right? How did you win?"

"You realize he snapped his brother's arm like a twig and acted like it was nothing right? You heard that part of the story?"

Law let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes. That part was clear, confirming what we already suspected. Niji has considerable strength and speed. His and the others' reactions to the event are also clear. The violent outburst directed at Yonji wasn't surprising or out of character from their perspective."

Nami folded her arms across her chest, annoyed but listening.

"Niji has enhancements. We know some of them, but there could be more. I need to know why he lost to you at pool."

Nami softened as she started to understand what he was really asking. "Same as the bar. I'm quite skilled, but I also distracted him when he started doing well. He was good, but not any better than a well practiced regular person. And if the alcohol affected him, he didn't show it."

"You don't seem too affected by the alcohol either. Maybe it wasn't as strong as you thought."

"I can drink fishmen under the table." She waved off his implication. "The scotch was strong enough."

"So strength and speed are enhanced, strong alcohol tolerance, not necessarily improved dexterity or perception though." Law hummed thoughtfully. "That's good for us."

"Yeah, until they decide to turn that strength and speed on one of us."

"I don't think we're in any danger for now. If everything you told me is true, they appear to be quite taken with you already. You were good enough at manipulating them to get all that information and an invitation for both of us to go back."

Nami crinkled her nose and pursed her lips. "Yeah, but I'd rather not have to continue that kind of manipulation. I only got him to agree to include you by kissing him and running away before he could realize what happened."

Law raised his brow and looked directly at her for the first time since their conversation began.

"On the cheek you pervert!" She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and tossed it at his head.

Law caught the fruit and grinned.

"Anyway, I doubt that kind of thing would work twice... and I have no intention of going further with that kind of distraction."

"Fair enough," Law said casually as he bit into the apple. The way she grasped her own arms let him know she was serious. Even though she was unapologetic about using her looks to get what she wanted, she had limits she definitely did not want to cross, and she was worried that those limits would be tested.

"You did good tonight, you know. And I'll be with you every step of the way on Saturday."

She looked back at him, cautious but grateful.

"I bought something for you while you were gone." The amount she perked up after hearing that made him genuinely laugh. "Don't get too excited, Nami-ya. It isn't clothes or jewelry."

Law pulled out a small box from a shopping bag under the table. He opened the box to reveal two Baby Den Den Mushi. "They can't broadcast far, but you should be able to reach me from anywhere on the island if you need to."

Nami reached out and took one of the pair. "Normally I prefer diamonds, but I have to admit this is not a bad gift."

Law flashed a lazy grin at her approval. "We should come up with a code word. Something to use to let the other know we're in trouble if someone else is listening."

Nami hummed as her gaze fell to the fruit bowl. "Mikans."

"Mikans?"

Nami smiled to herself. "I grew up on a Mikan grove."

When she didn't elaborate, Law asked, "In the house smaller than your bedroom?"

Nami rolled her eyes but didn't lose her smile. "That's the one."

"Mikans it is." He could tell she didn't want to go into it any further. Although he was intrigued, he wasn't going to push it. "Now that that's settled, let's take it from the top again. I don't want to miss any details."

Nami groaned, "You may not ever sleep but that doesn't mean other people shouldn't either."

*****

Saturday came before they knew it. It was mid morning by the time they were ready to head to the celebration. Nami was feeling confident after she successfully convinced Law to leave his nodachi at the apartment. In the last few days, they found out from the locals that the celebration was more akin to a carnival than anything else. Whatever games and entertainment awaited them, it was very unlikely that it would warrant a sword. Not to mention, Law was playing the part of a doctor on sabbatical. She appreciated that he wanted to be prepared but the large weapon would only raise questions they weren't prepared to answer.

To both of their surprise, a car identical to the one that brought Nami home from her last visit to the Vinsmokes' was waiting for them outside the apartment.

"Ah! Miss Nami." A man in a stuffy black suit too warm for the sunny weather jumped out of the driver's seat to open the back door and bow. "Master Niji is most looking forward to your visit. He wanted you to know that he takes care of his guests' every want and need, especially, uh," the man hesitated and cleared his throat before reciting his prepared statement, "especially compared to lesser princes."

Nami snorted at the remark. Niji couldn't help trying to make Yonji look bad, even when he wasn't around to gloat about it.

Law leaned down to whisper in Nami's ear, "You gave him our address?"

"Of course not," She whispered back harshly at the accusation. "He sent me home with a driver last time. They must have given him the address they dropped me off at."

Brushing away the unsettling feeling that came with that realization, the pair climbed into the car. They made good time as the city streets seemed quieter than usual. As they got closer and the manor came into view, Nami realized that it was because almost everyone in town was attending the event.

The celebration of Germa was huge. There were swarms of people walking and gathering around pop-up shops and wooden stands for a hundred yards before reaching the gates of the manor. The car drove slowly up the path, giving Nami and Law a view of the carnival-type games and local food vendors within the various booths. The gates to the manor were wide open, but a large security detail at the perimeter made it clear not everyone at the celebration was permitted inside. The scene inside the main gates was an elevated version of what was outside. Larger, more elaborate booths with fancier food and merchandise lined the grounds. A grand table sat on an even grander platform at the center of the manor's front garden.

Nami and Law exited the car and began walking about to view the festivities more closely. They didn't get far before two security guards stopped them. They were instructed to follow the guards immediately, bringing them in front of the elevated platform. Yonji, Niji, and Ichiji all sat on the same side of the table chatting and sipping wine.

"Announcing Miss Nami and-" the guard paused to glance from the princes to Law and back uncertainly, "and her brother."

Yonji and Ichiji shared a mild look of surprise while Niji jumped from his seat and clasped his hands together. "Right on time!" It was clear that he failed to inform his brothers of today's guests prior to the event as he relished in their confusion.

Nami and Law were all but pushed up the steps onto the platform as Niji walked to the edge to meet them. He grabbed one of her hands and held it out to the side, making her strike a pose as he took in the sight of her. "You look fantastic." He moved her arm, prompting her to spin, making the bottom of her blue mini dress float up and out before falling to her thighs again.

"You're too kind, my prince!" Nami smiled brightly and motioned to the bored man next to her. "This is my brother, Law. Law, this is Niji, Yonji, and Ichiji." She motioned to each one as she spoke their name.

"Pleasure to meet you." Law barely hid the sarcasm in his voice, though no one seemed to notice. Niji gave Yonji a knowing grin as his brother stared daggers at him in return, and Ichiji was more interested in his wine than whatever was happening around him.

The other brothers stood from their chairs in ceremony as Niji led the pair to their seats at the table. Nami paused in front of Yonji to address him.

"It's good to see you again," she said sweetly, and Yonji returned the look slightly surprised. "I have to apologize though. I didn't have time to thank you before I had to leave. It really was great night."

He softened immediately. "Erm, of course it was," Yonji mumbled as his voice caught in his throat slightly as her hand touched his arm briefly.

Yonji's own hand twitched as he began to reach for her, but she was gone in a flash, gliding elegantly to her empty seat on the other side of Niji.

Law fought hard not to smirk. She was good at this. She was better than he realized. Nami had diffused the situation before it began. She made sure whatever anger Yonji may have, it wasn't toward her. She did this without slighting Niji, and she did it within only a few minutes of interacting with them. What had impressed him most though wasn't so obvious. She touched Yonji's arm. The arm that was broken in front of her just a few days ago. For a normal person, that type of break would take weeks, maybe months to fully heal. Yonji wasn't wearing any sort of cast, and her touch made it clear that the arm wasn't even tender.

Law took the seat next to Nami at the far end of the table, and the day of celebration continued. Nami played her part perfectly. She was endearing and attentive. She even told a few stories she had learned from a friend she made during her travels. When Law dared to glance at her, he was greeted with the warmest smile he'd ever seen. He couldn't stop himself from smiling back as he felt a slight tightening in his chest. It was enough to make him momentarily forget the whole reason they were there. He quickly settled himself down, understanding it was part of her act. He couldn't let himself get distracted. Even though they were already outside, he needed to get some air.

Law muttered something about relieving himself and left the table. He began to walk. He walked until her smile faded from his mind, replaced with thoughts of Dressrosa. He focused hard on the bigger picture, the culmination of his plans, and he day dreamed of running his nodachi through the heart of the man he hated most in this world. He took a deep breath and lounged underneath a tree near the fence on the far side of the manor.

A raised voice to his left caught Law's attention. A merchant stood next to his food stand. A tray of rice filled bowls lay broken on the ground at his feet. The man was shouting at a white ball of fur next to the smashed meals on the grass. Law spotted a hint of metal behind the white fur, and his stomach dropped as he realized what he was looking at.

He nearly jumped when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. His head jerked around to see Nami kneeling down next to him.

"You've been gone a while." Nami gave him a small smile.

"I doubt anyone at that table noticed," he replied.

"One person noticed."

"Niji missed me that much?"

"Well, I did tell him you were the fun one between the two of us."

"You told him that?" He smiled.

"Yeah, I lied," she teased, and they both chuckled.

His smile faded as his gaze fell back upon the ball of fur struggling to pick up the broken lunches.

Nami took noticed and followed his gaze. A small mink polar bear slowly picked up shattered dishes and food off the ground. He stopped briefly to run his paw under the metal collar on his neck as the food vendor pointed his finger at the cub mumbling curses under his breath.

"I thought they outlawed slavery in this part of the world" she stated.

"They did. Though nothing is illegal if you line the right pockets."

Law's face took on a look of sadness far deeper than the scene they were watching. She wanted to ask what he was thinking but decided against it.

"I've never actually seen a mink before. I've only read about them." She looked at him, but his gaze held on the bear.

"My best friend is a mink." He said after a few moments.

"Really?" Nami was genuinely surprised.

"Yeah." He showed the faintest hint of a smile.

"How does a crime lord's doctor become best friends a mink?" She asked playfully.

"We met when he was just a few years older than him." He motioned to the cub, now carrying the ruined food to the trash. "His name is Bepo. He's a polar bear as well."

Nami opened her mouth to speak but something stopped her. She was interested to know more, but wondered if she should. He was a criminal working for someone willing to partner with Arlong. In their time on Germa, it was easy to forget that fact. He didn't act like any of the other criminals she knew. He was methodical and cunning, but something told her he had a softer side she had yet to see.

To Nami's surprise, Law continued. "We met on Swallow Island. He was only 8 years old, alone after having to leave his homeland. I guess I saw a bit of myself in him."

Nami held her breath and waited quietly for him to continue, as if any sound or movement might stop this sudden admission.

"He actually practices cartography, too. His maps aren't nearly as good as yours, but he's no amateur," Law turned to look at Nami. "I think you'd like him."

She couldn't help but smile brightly, a light blush grew across her cheeks at the compliment. "I can't wait to meet him."

"It's been a long time since I've seen him, and I doubt I'll be back with him again any time soon." Law gave her a sad smile. "It's too bad though. I know he'd like you as well."

It was unexpected and a bit confusing to Nami. There was so much she didn't know about Law. She had no reason to trust him. She shouldn't trust him. Something in the way he spoke about Bepo convinced her he was telling the truth. There was no lie in his eyes. His softer side was showing, and she felt compelled to nurture it.

An idea formed in her head almost immediately, and she grabbed Law's hand, taking him up and back toward the table that he so eagerly had fled.

"Nami-ya, what are you-"

"Do you trust me?" She cut him off.

"Not particularly."

She gave him a pout, sticking out her bottom lip, and that was all it took for him to concede.

*****

"There you are," Niji called out as Nami and Law returned to their seats. "I was worried we'd die of boredom without you."

"Well, we definitely can't have that." She smiled and her hand traced along his shoulder gently as she sat down.

Law looked out at the celebration activities. He forced a lazy and careless demeanor, but inside he was eagerly waiting to see what Nami was planning.

"You know," she began, "you'd be less bored if we participated in some of the games."

Niji scoffed. There were a number of vendors who set up carnival-style games in their booths, but most were beyond the manor gates.

"Hustle in bars all you want on your time Nami, but you're here as a royal guest." Yonji pointed out.

"We can't have you consorting with peasants when you're with me." Niji added, sliding his hand on her knee.

Nami hummed and placed a finger to her chin. "Then we'll just have to make up our own game." She smiled wide as both men turned to look at her.

"Do you have something in mind?" Yonji asked, likely interested in a chance to get back at Niji for breaking his arm the other night.

"On my walk, I spotted a prize I very much desire. But.." She trailed off and shook her head. "I doubt anyone would be able to win something that isn't for sale."

Even Ichiji turned his head to give Nami his full attention after that comment. They all looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Oh, alright. The rice vendor down the path there had a very interesting servant in his employ." She motioned toward the area around the far side of the manor.

"You want a servant?" Yonji furrowed his brows.

"I don't want any servant. I want his servant. He's a mink cub."

A wave of realization washed over the brothers' faces. When she said servant, she meant slave. The Vinsmokes did not keep slaves in chains on their property, but the servants in their employ were basically treated as slaves without the unsightly metal collar. It was clear that they allowed others to own them as long as they didn't cause trouble.

"You want a mink?" Niji asked.

"No, I want that mink." She could see them hesitate. It was rare for anyone common born to desire a slave. "If I'm going to be spending more time with any of you, I'll need some help taking care of personal things. Someone younger would be easier to train, and that little fur-ball all but stole my heart already."

She saw the men consider her words. She batted her eyelashes and added a pout for good measure, but she could see they still hesitated.

"And how is this a game exactly?" Ichiji finally chimed in.

Nami smiled wide again and clasped her hands together. "Whoever gives me the bear will win a gift from me. Let's call it a favor to be determined by the winner."

Niji and Yonji looked at each other. They immediately started talking at the same time, arguing about who deserved to be the one to claim the bear. Ichiji rolled his eyes and left the table. Nami sipped her wine and sent a playful look toward Law.

He wasn't sure how he felt about this plan. He had opened up to her only slightly about his past, and her first instinct was to do something kind for him. Or was this favor a way to get closer again to their overall goal in Germa? No, there were other means to continue without giving anything up herself. She confided in him that she was very against getting physical with any of these men if she didn't have to. Seeing the younger brothers salivate over her all morning made him worry that this favor would put her in danger of that. She wanted to help him, to do something kind for him, even at her own risk.

Niji and Yonji were still arguing, this time about how they could decide which of the two would win the cub for her. It looked like the decision was they would bare knuckle box to determine the winner, but before they could even agree, a throat cleared loudly behind Nami.

All four of them turned back in surprise. Ichiji stood on the ground behind the raised platform, his face devoid of any emotions, holding the mink cub in his arms.

Nami gaped at the man for a moment before composing herself. She clapped in praise, then leaped down to greet him. He gingerly handed her the bear and then held out the key to his collar. Nami smiled brightly up at Ichiji in thanks, struggling to find the words she said, "How- er, thank you!"

Ichiji turned stoically to Law, taking him off guard with the sudden attention. It was the first time any of the brothers looked directly at him that day. "You are a doctor, yes?"

Law nodded warily.

"Good. You will check this over for injuries. I do not want my gift failing to meet Nami's expectations." Ichiji stated plainly, gestured to the cub in Nami's arms.

Law casually dropped himself down off the platform to join them on the ground. Nami wordlessly handed him the bear, hoping Ichiji's request was just a formality and not based on any actually abuse the cub may have received. As soon as her hands were empty, she turned back to Ichiji and smiled again.

"So." She was searching his face desperately for any indication of what he was feeling, but she found none. "You win. What favor can I give my new hero?"

"Come with me." He did not answer her but held out his arm for her to take.

Niji and Yonji shared a glance that Law didn't miss. It was quick, but he was sure there was a bit of concern mixed with the obvious annoyance. He thought he saw the slightest hesitation in Nami before she happily took Ichiji's arm and began walking in pace with him. Law watched as they made their way across the lawn and driveway to enter the manor. He looked back to the remaining brothers, hoping to glean any other information about what might await her inside. They gave him none. They had already returned their attention to the celebration, motioning for their cups to be refilled with wine.

Law looked back to the manor once more before looking down at the cub in his arms. He realized then that the cub was shaking. He carried him a ways away from the brothers where he rested the bear under a tree to begin examining him.

"My name is Trafalgar Law. I know you are scared, but everything is going to be ok." He gave the mink a delicate scratch behind the ears. "I won't let anyone hurt you again."

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#one piece #fanfic #nami #nami op #nami one piece #nami x law #law x nami #lawna #lawnami #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke ichiji

[distinguishedloverbanananickel]

For me and to be fair, a relationship with a man like Leo is an a solid A+ static! Not to mention the fact I always wanted my romantic tendencies from fantasy. To reality straight away. Knowing Leo he loves reading books so I would be a social fucking nerd about lord of the rings and alien vs predator novels. Even scary books too like goosebumps!😎 As tv shows he would enjoy of course mines with be something horror or Korean anime drama series depending what the article is really about to get me interested, of course. Frankly, cartoons like Looney toons, knd, grim adventures of Billy and Mandy even Kung Fu fucking panda! Omg I would be such a fucking geek and so much interest with martial arts he'll... Beg me to train with him. Oy😅

As taming him when it comes to his feisty temper. Well, I can have such a shitty attitude myself if he can handle THAT. I would say things like "Leonardo! If you want to make your decisions fucking impossible because your father has strictly wanted you to be a leader! Because you are their big fucking brother babe! You are not fucking dumb or a nuisance since we first met. To be fair, I thought ya never wanted me around ever since my friends gotten close to your siblings. Understand baby.. I love you so... So fucking much. Breaks my heart to see you struggle and forget what needs to be seen. Despite your motive and athletic moments that make it for me pretty complex about your current situations that I rarely understand. So I just leave ya alone. Figure thoughts out for yourself. Making love with you sets off a whole newer levels for my body to react because you did something to make me love you. All of you! Please Leo and I really hate begging. Just listen and open your eyes and see things less of a challenge. This world will always and forever be cruel. Just remember you always got the people who are close to you make your life less miserable than how it used to be for your cold blooded heart baby blue".

As for combat I love wrestling and miz martial arts so I wanna practice with my jumping and more nutritious ways to stay healthy. Maybe Leo can help and after if we do ya know.. hehehe😌😌😌 a little discipline never hurts one person's mind and spirit.

So I never mention this but I'm a pretty hardcore fan for poetry, positivity ways of speaking the mind of human contact, scary true stories of actual dangerous people becoming the monsters underneath my bed. Including being scared of the dark sometimes. Comedy and laughter, not for shadowing. Enjoying romantic and sex comedy films like grown ups one and two, Porky's one two and three, and other exotic films of love or just silly simple stuff for horror comedy or regular funny moments.

Knowing me being random for watching too many old animation films and 3d shows or movies. I say shit like "well a few times or things I could eat the entire shit like a cat crossing over dumb sided from my right eye point of view" and Leo is like '😅😂🙂🤨😆👍". Depending on his mood though. I wouldn't provoke that unless I have no choice. Wish me luck 🤞!

As for zodiac signs... Being a pisces will just take a whole new ride out of Leo because he's aquarius. So it's like opposites attract. I also have a goth like biker chick style so if he sees me pull up with a badass bewitching motorcycle. The expression though his eyes would be like "top me mommy. Now" type of link 😂

Also I'm a big extreme person on cuddling and being a little possessive. So another double A++? Lol we be like twins just talking and being smug playful bastards to each other. Although I would ask if I'm going too far I'll stop. Though I'll doubt he'll care and say "my dark princess never seems to be less amusing as you want to make it be. Don't fret and be you baby" and winks. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!🤩😍💕💕🖤🔥🔥

Also I wouldn't mind becoming his wife and if his genetic mutations allow us to welcome our own children to this welcoming world. We travel to Japan for our honeymoon in the rocky mountains where the water flows and it's not much but silence and the breeze coming through our windows. We sleep peacefully until he knocks me up!

#tmnt bayverse #leo #self ship

[lornaka]

Family pieces

#ya know just your regular family drama #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch fanart #lornart #star wars #crosshair #hunter #omega #tech #arc trooper echo #tbb spoilers

[wint3r-h3art]

Boba Bae

Pairings: Shang-Chi x reader

Warning: None. Unless you don’t like fluffy Drabble about two idiots crushing on each other.

Summary: You’ve been crushing on him the moment he first came into your Ma and Pa boba shop. Well, you’re not the only person that feels that way.

A/N: Alright, I just need to get this out after I watched Shang-Chi. I always have a hc that Shang-Chi is basic and loves boba as much as anyone, so here is a cute little Drabble. I hope you like it. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my native language. Any like, comments, and reblog are greatly appreciated! If you interest about their date let me know because I'll be more than eager to write it ahah

Part 2

The day has been slow.

You have been bored in the store, trying to stock up the shelf here and there just so that your time can pass by quicker. You also have been quite impatient lately too.

You haven’t seen Shaun, your favorite regular for a couple of days now. It’s not like it’s a big deal or anything, but he’s never missed coming into the store to order boba after his shift at the hotel. Weirdly enough you miss seeing his face. You always thought that he’s so cute and so sweet too.

You smile slightly to yourself as you breaking down the empty cardboard box to recycle it. You’ve never bothered to ask him for his number or anything because you’re too Goddamn shy. Every time you catch his eyes, you feel like you forget how to speak. Plus he is always with Katy, a very funny and friendly girl. They seem close when they hang out inside the store, so you always assume that they are an item, which is why you’ve never bothered with asking him for his number in the first place.

The bell at the door jingles and you rush back inside to wash your hand and quickly put on gloves that you didn’t see who just came in.

“Hey, what can I get ya?” you ask from the register only to feel your breath caught in your throat.

You’re greeted by his warm smile, and you’re unable to function momentarily. How long has it been? A week? Ten days? You lost count because that means you’re looking forward to him, right?

“Hey, Shaun,” you grin widely, unable to stop yourself.

“Hey,” he greets you by your name. A part of you feels elated that he remembers it at all. “Slow day today?”

You nod shyly. You can feel heat creeps up to your cheeks, tinting them with slight pink.

Shang-Chi doesn’t miss the slight tint of colors on your cheeks. 

He finds you cute the moment Katy dragged him here to get boba after theirs shift. He tried to protest her many time because as much as he likes milk tea, milk always makes his stomach ache. He’s not going to lie though that when he sees you that evening, he thought that you are the cutest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. It was worth it in a sense.

“Yeah. There was a rush earlier, but now it’s just me.” You sound awkward and you hate yourself for that. “Katy’s not here?” You ask as you noticed.

“No,” he smiles. “She’s helping wàipó tonight.” It’s a lie. Katy has convinced him or more like pushes him to come here and ask you out while the shop is still quiet. She has noticed the way you two looks at each other and is convinced that you feel that same about him. Of course, Shang-Chi is reluctant because no one really gives him much attention since his job is to park cars. No girls in San Fransico wants that.

“Haven’t seen you all week, I thought that something happened to ya,” you say it out loud without much thought, and you find yourself blushing deeply.

He smiles at that.

“Nothing happened at all, I swear. I just have to visit my family in Macau.” Again, he lies. There’s no need to scare you off with his family drama, at least not for now. Coming back to the west coast has been a nice break for him. At least till Wong needs him.

“Oh, that’s nice,” you say as a smile lingers on your lips longer than it should be. He notices it of course. Shang-Chi always notices your expression. It is why he finds you incredibly attractive in the first place. For someone that doesn’t talk much, your expression speaks louder than words.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Do you want your regular today?” you ask. You know Shaun’s order by heart now. He always orders large black milk tea with Lactaid milk and extra pearls, and 50% sugar. He’s the reason why you managed to convince your parents to stock up on the Lactaid milk in the first place because you know he can’t drink too much dairy product.

“Uh, um yeah.” He feels nervous suddenly when he actually remembers why he came here in the first place. He awkwardly pays for his drink and waits, feeling nervous as hell while you make his drink. He cannot stop bouncing on his feet.

“Are you here till closing?” he asks, hoping you say no. Please say no. Please say no.

“No. My sister will be here with my dad for the closing. I’m heading home soon actually.”

Yes!

“That’s nice. Any plan for a tonight?”

The question catches you off guard. No one ever cares to ask you that before, and quite frankly you don’t know whether to lie to him in order to impress him or not. You decide not to.

“Uh, not really.”

You of course don’t notice the way his eyes suddenly light up at that. Now he just has to breathe and do it.

“Wanna do something tonight?”

You freeze for a moment, unable to function. Shang-Chi starts to panic. Fuck, fuck fuck!

You count to five and breathe out through your nose slowly as you let his words sink in.

“You can say no. I’m not forcing--”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. Somehow you just think fuck it. You only live once. If you have a man this cute asking you out on a date so spontaneously, you’d do the same. “I’d like that,” you smile sweetly at him as you hand him his order.

“Oh-uh. Oh, that’s great. Perfect! Uh, um I’ll wait here until your shift is over. Is that ok?”

You nod with a big smile on your face now as you move to clean up the counter.

_____________________

“Alright, pay up, Wong,” Katy says as Wong reluctantly hands her the 20 dollar bill and slaps it into her hand. They both bet on Shang-Chi of whether she’s going to go through the date with Shang-Chi or not. Wong bets against it, while Katy just knows that there’s no way you’ll say no to it. She just has a hunch from the moment she brought him into your parent’s little boba shop.

“Ah, too easy.”

#Shang-chi fanfiction #Shang Chi fanfiction #Shang chi #Shang-chi #marvel shang chi #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #Shang Chi x reader #shang-chi x reader #shang chi x reader #simu liu imagine #simu liu fanfiction #simu liu

[uglypastels]

Plan, Interrupted // t.h.

(a/n) there's nothing like coming up with 50 different fic ideas while trying to write one for months, haha, but after getting the prompt from the amazing @worldoftom I could not not write this!! Thank you so much, B, for thinking of me and helping me brainstorm :') and thanks to @duskholland and @lilbeatlebear for the constant support (gods know, I needed it haha) and an apology beforehand for any kind of questionable choices in the writing. idk what i was thinking, but i do think it turned out pretty well.

word count: 22.5k

warning: (enemies>lovers... if you squint... maybe) shitty family drama, rich people behaviour, chaotic driving, alcohol consumption, swearing, public nudity, smut > 18+, minors please DNI (intoxicated, semi-public making out, oral (m), d/s dynamics but also switch, riding, and idk how to do this.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces.

“What do you guys think? Does this one make me look fat?” Your sister asked as she spun around for what felt like the millionth time. You let your head fall back as you tried to reach for the last drops of champagne that had stayed behind in your tall glass.

“y/n!” You almost knocked your own teeth out as your mother nudged you in the arm.

“What?” you hissed back at her, putting the glass down on the little table. Its relatively modest surface was occupied mainly by your plate, which used to hold several small (too small, in your opinion) pieces of wedding cake testers. Honestly, you did not understand why you had to be there anyway. No one listened to your opinion. Obviously, the red velvet with cream cheese filling and blueberry jam was the best. Who, in the actual fuck, would want to eat carrot cake at their wedding?

Well, your sister. That’s who.

“So, what do you think?” your sister just kept on twirling, whipping her veil over her head dramatically.

“It’s ugly,” you said, not even looking at the dress. For the first six dresses, you tried to look for the differences, but at some point, it all just started to blur into one big ball of organza, glitter and lace. And it was all just so white.

“y/n!” your mother gasped once again. It seemed to be the only word leaving her mouth lately.

“I’m sorry, it is.” You shrugged, “I liked the first one better.”

“Oh, let her be, momma,” your sister waved your mother off, interrupting her before she could snap your neck off, “she’s just sour because she doesn’t have a wedding to plan… or even a boyfriend for that matter.” She started twirling in Ugly Dress No. 35 in the shade Eggwhite Puke before she saw the glare you gave her.

That was the reason you were there. Not for moral support, not for your opinions or ideas, but to make sure that everyone around you knew that your sister was the pretty successful and happily engaged one; meanwhile, you were alone, bitter and getting drunk on cheap champagne in the middle of the day.

You were going to say something, even had a thought of throwing some bits of frosting at her, but at that exact moment, you got a text message from your friend, asking if you wanted to go out for drinks. How could you possibly say no to that?

“I gotta go, see ya later,” you said while responding to your friend you would meet her at your regular meeting spot. Then, without even looking up at the rest of the bridal party or waiting for their response, you made sure to leave quickly.

New York had been getting warmer and warmer, and the streets of the Upper East Side were bustling with people trying to get from one destination to the other. For once, you were glad to get sucked into the stream of commuters, actually feeling free compared to what you had to endure in the bridal shop with those familial piranhas.

Your phone started vibrating in your pocket as you crossed the street, avoiding a cab that didn’t know what a red light was. You picked up the phone, and it was your friend, the same one who had just texted you a minute ago. You were still flipping the cab driver off when your friend asked where you were.

“Oh my god, Rebecca, I’m literally two minutes away. Calm down.” You said as you walked at a faster pace, keeping up with everyone around you. Though, apparently, you had been still walking a bit too slow for some, as a man caught up to you, bumping into your shoulder.

“Look out, asshole,” you mumbled, but the man apparently heard you because the next second, he turned around. For a second, you were scared he was going to kill you (this was New York, after all). Then you were surprised by his perfect jawline, which was a bizarre observation to make about a stranger who could still kill you.

You remembered that you were still in a phone call with your friend, and you made sure that the man could see if you had a witness to whatever might happen. But, unfortunately, he stood still in front of you.

“What did you just call me?” Oh, he had an accent. So he wasn’t American, good. And it also explained why he stood in the middle of the road. Anyone else, who was from here, would have just kept on walking…. Or would have pushed you even harder.

“I called you an asshole,” you smiled sweetly, feeling a surge of confidence come out of nowhere. “Now excuse me, I got places to be.” The confidence clearly worked because you passed by him and left the man standing, most likely making him unsure of what had just taken place. You made your way through the rest of the street wearing that Bad Bitch attitude, feeling like no one could come even close to you.

"Ok, what the hell was that?” Shit, you still had Rebecca on the phone.

“Sorry, some fucker bumped into me. He actually stopped and called me out. Can you believe that? Ugh, men.”

“I know what you mean, honey. But… was he hot?” Of course, that was the only thing Rebecca could think about. But, unfortunately…

“Not only that, Beck, he had an accent.” you were exactly the same. That’s why your friendship worked so well. Rebecca gasped at the news.

“Can you go back? Get his number oh my god, y/n-”

“I am not doing that. Did I not just tell you that he was an asshole? Besides,” you looked behind you to see if he was anywhere in sight, “he’s probably far away now. And I’m almost there. No point in going back.”

“So what if he’s an asshole? We both know that it’s the problematic ones that are the best in bed,” she said, almost matter-of-factly, to which you could only roll your eyes. Half because her words were absolutely ridiculous, and a half because, though absurd, still very accurate.

You were nearing the restaurant now and could already see Becky sitting at your usual spot, at the high bar bench that faced the window. It was the best spot to look at the people on the street and judge them with great velocity.

She waved at you as you walked inside. Then, before you could say anything or even give her a hug, she sat up straight with a solemn expression laid across her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked exactly what you had been planning on asking her.

“Nothing?” you asked yourself, more like, “why would anything be wrong?”

“Because I could practically hear your eye-roll back there, and the only reason when you’re so against hooking up with hot foreign guys is when you’re angry… and the fact that I snatched you away from your sister’s wedding dress shopping gave me a few ideas on how you might be feeling. So, I already ordered for you.” It was then that you noticed the large cup of coffee on the table next to you. With a relieved sigh, you sat down and took a large sip of the hot drink, which most definitely burned your tongue, but you didn’t care at that particular moment. The extra hint of... spice didn't go unnoticed by you either.

“So, what happened?” Rebecca watched you drink, most likely concerned for your tastebuds and mental wellbeing.

“We had to look at a hundred ugly dresses. She had decided to go for this Princess Diana on crack look; it’s actually ridiculous. I drank as much champagne as possible, and my family did not miss a single opportunity to tell me that I’m the lesser child.”

“You’re not, though,” she reminded you, though you didn’t need it. Maybe it was a delusion, but you never saw anything in your sister that made her so much better than you… except for the fact that now, she will be Mr and Mrs Stone Cold Bitch. You drank your coffee, with the interludes of pouring your frustrations out on poor Rebecca.

“I just… I wish something would happen that would take them all down a notch. I- I want to fuck up the wedding.”

Rebecca thought about your words for a moment. “I’m invited to this wedding, right?”

“I think so?”

“Then yes, you should definitely do it.” This was followed by a gasp, “you should totally sleep with her fiancé!” The exclamation made a few people around you look up from their own conversations.

“No. Ew,” you had met your sister’s husband-to-be, Derek, and you had never been particularly impressed, “besides, I don’t want to ruin their marriage, she’s still my sister, and I still love her, but-” you halted.

“But what?” Rebecca blinked; her cup of coffee was only an inch from her mouth as she awaited the rest of your sentence.

“I also want her to be miserable for a bit, my whole family for that matter. I want something to happen that will make everyone talk about it. Something that people who weren’t even invited will talk about-”

“You should get a streaker!” she almost shouted, once again a bit too enthusiastically considering you were in a restaurant for a late brunch. There were more conspicuous glares thrown your way.

“A what?”

“A streaker, you know, a naked guy with a trenchcoat.” Rebecca saw your apprehensive face, “Imagine, beautiful reception, and suddenly this naked guy comes running in! It’s gonna be hilarious and most important… no one will be able to forget it.” Her words stuck well in your mind. You could already imagine it: your entire family freaking out as some stranger runs in, ruining everything. It wouldn’t be surprising if someone fainted out of pure shock. Drinks would be spilt, food would be dropped… pure chaos.

It could be perfect.

“That is actually a great idea,” you grinned at your best friend. “But how will I get someone to do it?”

“Please, this is New York; you could throw a rock and hit five perverts walking down the street who’d be willing to do it.”

“But that’s the thing, I don’t want some pervert that will go and harass my cousin or some shit, just a quick run through the ballroom and leave,” you explained, leaving the both of you to think about options for a moment.

“Hire an actor.” Rebecca said, finally, “take out an ad in the paper or something; I’m sure someone would be interested and hey, if they act, chances are they might be slightly good looking too.” She nudged you in the side suggestively, but you ignored that last bit. Her suggestion, however, just like all the previous ideas, had been pretty good. You could write up a little ad, maybe even search through craigslist (although that still leaves a high pervert probability).

Eventually, together with the help of Rebecca, you wrote up a quick ad. Not too long, since news ads were expensive. You also thought it would be wise to get a prepaid phone to set up as a contact, so no weirdos had a way to contact you directly.

“Ooh, I feel like we’re in a spy movie,” Rebecca squealed as you left the store with the new phone.

“Calm down, Becks, this isn’t Ocean’s 8… more like… Wedding Crashers.”

“Still cool,” she shrugged.

Later that day, you found yourself behind your computer, trying to find out how in the hell does one put an ad in a newspaper or any kind of shared media that people might be reading. You had to make sure it wasn’t something widely known, so none of your family might accidentally stumble upon it, but read widely enough for someone to read it and catch interest. You had sat down at your desk, a large glass of red wine at hand. It had been a while since your champagne binge at the wedding parlour, and you could feel your mind unfogging throughout the day, which was highly unnerving. To go through with this plan, you could not be thinking clearly. It was an insane idea, and you could not start thinking over the consequences now.

After going through the ideas you and Rebecca had come up with and a few drafts, you managed to format a simple, hopefully compelling, message:

Be Naked At My Sister’s Wedding

My sister is having an outdoor wedding in New Canaan, CT, in July. I want someone to be naked in the woods and run through the wedding in order to ruin it. I will protect you from my family.

If interested, for further information, please contact:

Followed by the number of your freshly bought burner-cell phone. The glamour of taking out an advertisement in the press was that, as long as you paid enough money, you could get anything printed, and no one would even be questioning it. Another great point- it was anonymous!

You looked at the message, and maybe the alcohol had not hit yet, but the longer you looked at it, the worse you felt. It all just felt a little bit off. You couldn't do this to your sister. As much as she pissed you off, this wedding was an important day for your family, and you couldn’t be the person to ruin it for all of them. This was insane.

You had your finger on the button to send the ad off to the printers, then stopped. But you couldn't delete it just yet either. Not sure what to do, you saved the file with the ad draft and turned your computer off.

⤐

Although you had felt confident about pursuing the plan at first when talking about it with Rebecca, the following days only made you more uncertain. You had hoped to take a few days before doing anything. It was better; you had learned through experience that it was never good to act on initial emotions. In the restaurant, when the plan came to be, you had still been angry and upset at your family. You wanted to see them rot in the pits of hell.

Now, that need was not as high. You were feeling better, so you decided to put the plan away for now. But it didn’t mean, however, that you didn’t stop thinking about it.

That weekend, you had a few errands to go through in the Theatre District, so you had decided to go search for a little kiosk that might be selling the kind of reading material that you were searching for. Something local to the area that was sold and read thoroughly by its targeted audience. Clumsy you had never saved the original page that you wanted to send the ad to so you were in need of a new backup.

This way, if the plan was set in motion, you had a place to send your advert in. just as a precaution. The wedding was less than a month away, and you were intending on having it all very well planned out if the opportunity just so happened to take place.

You had found a little kiosk at the corner of the sidewalk. An old man smoking a cigarette was looking through a Vogue magazine that must have been at least a few years old. The sight of the outdated article made you a bit apprehensive, so you decided to keep walking in search of another vendor.

This one, you found only a few blocks later. It was a woman selling magazines, and she was eating a candy bar. Her bright red hair was in stark contrast to the dark inside of the vendor’s booth.

“How can I help ya?” she said, smacking her chocolate-covered lips.

“What would you say is the best-selling magazine here? That is like… local to the neighbourhood?” You asked, already looking at the extensive showcase.

“Hmm,” the girl stuck her head out from over the counter to look as well. “I’d probably say that one,” she pointed at a magazine right at your eye level. It was independent publishing, from the looks of it. On the cover was a large mask, which looked very intriguing. Interested in it yourself now, you decided to buy a copy and being led by the growling noises of your stomach, you decided to buy one of the candy bars that the girl had been eating.

“Make that two,” you added to your purchase quickly. The girl gave you your total, which you promptly paid for and then stashed your newly bought items in your bag. Then, with a quick smile, you said goodbye to the redhead and made your way to get the rest of your business done.

Once you had everything else taken care of, with a few shopping bags occupying your arms and not really feeling like walking all the way back to your apartment, you stood at the side of the street, trying to catch a taxi. The cars passed by you without a second of hesitation. It felt like you had never seen so many occupied taxis next to each other at the same time. After what must have been an eternity, one cab finally stopped at your feet. You got inside and told the man your destination.

The man, thankfully, didn’t make any attempts at conversation, even when you got stuck in the usual traffic jams. Feeling a bit bored, you decided to look at some of the articles in the publication you had bought. The pieces that the issue covered were spread over several topics, making it hard for you to determine the purpose or target audience. It wasn’t really something you would have ever picked up under any other circumstance. But, you had to admit, they were all very well written.

It also made one thing clear- none of your family had ever heard of it. Perfect.

You couldn’t be bothered to read the articles at that point, merely flipping through them. The advertisements were on the last few pages, and you realised that many more people had ideas like you, all with the same kind of audience in mind. For example, people were looking for actors to play roles in their college films; a woman was looking for a date for a wedding; another ad sounded very much like the writer was looking for a hired gun, but you decided to ignore that one.

But the longer you looked at all these other advertisements, the more you started to doubt this plan you had concocted. You had too much to drink that day, that was for sure, and you hadn’t been thinking clearly, which was sort of the point. When you looked at these cries of attention on the glossy pages, it got you to believe that maybe this was a bit desperate. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea. Now, you still had time to stop it. You had not sent anything in yet, and maybe that had been for the better.

You kept that idea in your mind, started reading a review about the off-off-Broadway production of Bob Ross - the Musical and were debating whether or not you should buy tickets for it next week when the driver pulled up to the curb of your destination. You paid him, feeling generous on the “No talking”- tip and got out. Your apartment was half a block away, which felt doable to do with your nose in the pages of the magazine. Was it a magazine? The format didn’t precisely expose that, but it didn’t feel like a journal or a newspaper either. Anyway, you made your way down the street reading and almost bumped your forehead against the door of your building once you had arrived.

“Oh, miss y/n!” Charlie, the security man of your building, quickly got up from his seat as you walked through the main hallway. You glanced up from another article (Pizza Rat- Myth, Legend, or Nuisance?) at the sound of your name.

“What is it, Charlie?”

“Your sister is here to see you. She, uh, came in just a few minutes ago. I thought you’d ought to know.”

Shit. “Thank you, Charlie,” you smiled appreciatively. Charlie nodded and sat back down as you made your way to the elevator. What, in the actual fuck, was your sister doing here? Hadn’t you made it perfectly clear that your apartment was yours and not a hospitable resort for your family? You did not want them there. If they wanted to meet up, they could reserve a table at Le Bernardin. But that was, supposedly, a disadvantage of living off of your parents and getting an apartment with their money. It was never an exclusively-you situation. They, and for some reason also your sister, felt entitled to unpredicted visits.

Not feeling ready to be stuck in a room with your sister, you remembered the candy bars you had bought at the kiosk and quickly unwrapped one of them. You were mid your first bite when the elevator doors opened. Once you stepped out, you were greeted with the image of your sister lounging on the large white sofa, a glass in her hand, flipping through magazines. She hadn’t looked up at the sound of the elevator ding, so you quickly stashed your newly purchased piece of reading into your bag while holding onto the candy bar like it was life support.

Right as you closed the zipper of your bag, did she look in your direction.

“Ah! There you are!”

“Yup, here I am. Here you are, too, I see.” You smiled with gritted teeth.

“Yes, sorry if this isn’t the best timing-”

“It actually really isn’t-” you tried to say, but she didn't listen and just kept on yapping.

“I just had to come and see you. After the dress shopping- well, I wanted to know if you were doing OK. Make sure we’re still good.” She put her glass down on the table, only an inch away from a coaster, and it was then that you noticed a white and blue cardboard box on your coffee table. Your sister saw the look you gave the strange new object and reached out for it in glee.

“Oh yea, I almost forgot. I popped by Lady M and got us a few goodies- although now I’m thinking, you must be good.” You noticed the glare she had shot you as you were taking another bite of the candy bar when saying that, and it made your blood boil. It was as if the opportunities to ridicule you were actually coming at her. As if she was a beacon, or a giant magnet, for bitchy comments.

As your sister started to munch away on a bonbon, you sat down in one of your chairs, as far away from her as possible. You stared, probably a bit too obviously, as she sat there. Was it too much of an expectation to think she had something to say to you?

“So why are you here exactly?” you said, trying not to look at all the candy in the take-out box and just focus on the one you were eating.

“Mm, I told you already,” your sister wiped the corner of her mouth, “I wanted to see how you are. You seemed really upset yesterday.”

“Well, I was; one can only take up so much in a day. Was kind of tired of how everyone was belittling me, you know?” As you said that, you felt your shoulders slack, and your back hit the rest of the chair. Your sister moved over on the couch and leaned up to you. Her face showed a small smile, but it was a kind one. One filled with compassion- a sure rarity in your family.

"Oh, honey, please don’t think that.” She patted her hand on your leg, and for a brief moment, a surge of guilt flew over you, feeling horrible that you had been this close to ruining her big day… but just for a moment.

“You know how mom is; she isn’t as… understanding when it comes to certain things. But you know I completely support you.” She gave you a sweet smile, which was confusing since you had the feeling as if she had just insulted you. You didn’t know where the insult was hiding, but you could sense it nearby. Your sister picked up another piece of fancy candy that most likely cost more than the number of calories it had in it, which to you, never felt like a good diet.

“What do you mean?” you eventually dared to ask.

“Oh, you know, not many girls would be so comfortable being single, especially when there’s so little else wrong with you.” You could feel a muscle in your face twitch at each word that came from your sister’s mouth, and it only got worse the longer she went. The guilt now trickling out of you at a steady pace. “So it’s really quite commendable how you parade your bachelorette life like that. God knows I would never be able to do it. I mean… I’d probably not even dare to leave the house knowing that nobody wanted me… So it is, truly, very… empowering, in fact, mhm.” she looked up at you from her fourth bonbon.

You wanted to scream in her face but instead opted for a polite, very much forced, smile while your fingers were wringing themselves around the corner of a throw pillow. A pillow, which also gave you a great urge to smother her with it. To think that there was a second in which you had thought that maybe this could be a normal conversation. That your sister actually was concerned about you.

No, that would have been absolutely ludicrous. And now you were stuck listening to her stating these backhanded comments at you. The longer it went on, the more you had to hold yourself together not to say anything back. You had to keep it together, but that band that held it all in one place was without a doubt getting tighter and tighter until- you finally snapped.

"Can you shut up for like one fucking second,” you sneered, making your sister look perplexed. The bonbons in the box were almost all gone.

“Excuse me?” She blinked in bewilderment.

“Just shut up. I’m so tired of hearing you talk, the whole family actually. Why can’t any of you accept that I’m happy with what I’m doing? Why, whenever someone has something to say about me, it has to be these unbelievably pretentious comments that actually make me want to-”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” your sister waved you off. She wasn’t even listening to you. You could tell.

“I’m serious.”

“You know what,” your sister scoffed, “maybe mom was right.”

“About what?” Oh, yet another conversation about you that had been held behind your back. You were absolutely ecstatic to hear what the topic of this one was. Would it have been your presumed alcoholism? Perhaps another entirely different fictitious addiction? Or maybe your mother finally managed to convince your entire family that you had joined a convent, which seemed to be the only acceptable reason for you not to be in a relationship.

“Mom had suggested that maybe it would be better if you, uhm, didn’t come to the wedding.”

“Excuse me?” Now it was your turn to blink at her in disbelief.

“Of course I was against it, how could you not come to the wedding? You’re my sister! But momma believes that your energy might be slightly… off-putting.” And apparently, this was the moment she decided it was time to go (perhaps because she ate the last bonbon) and got up to grab her jacket. You followed her like a disgruntled chihuahua.

“How can you uninvite me from your wedding?”

“Just the ceremony, you still get to come to the reception, of course. And you can still sit at the main table during the party, c’mon, y/n.” She put on her jacket.

“You’re actually doing this?” This hurt. Sure, you hated your family sometimes, certainly at this moment, but that’s what families did! But what made you a family was that you could put this hatred aside. So, for example, at the wedding of your back-stabbing bitch of a sister and her good for nothing husband… you wanted to be there and support her in any way you could.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, y/n. We both know you can be a bit… testy, sometimes. I mean, look at you now. Mom said that's precisely how you would be. Of course, I was trying to prove her wrong, but…

“Oh, so all that I care for you bullshit was just that? Bullshit?” you asked, confused. But, of course, it made perfect sense. Your sister and mother had put on a bet to see if she could crack you and make up a reason not to invite you to the wedding. Fucking parasites, each and every one of them.

“No, not at all. I did want to see if you were ok. But you have to admit, y/n, that you haven’t been in the greatest state lately. I mean, just look at yourself now. But I would still love it if you came to the party. After all, we are sisters.” She then proceeded to extend her arms in the form of an embrace. When you didn’t move, she, somewhat aggressively, pulled you into the hug. Once she pulled away, she gave you another one of those psychopathically sweet smiles and finally went off to the elevator. As she walked away, her “Toodeloooo” echoed through the corridor.

Once you heard the doors of the elevator close, you fell face-first onto the sofa and screamed as long as you could until your lungs started to burn.

That night, after your sister had left and a few glasses of wine later, you found the website of the writing you had purchased. It had taken you a while, but you found the section in which you could send in an advertisement. Maybe another "You" would have given up after hearing the news you got degraded to a second-class family friend, but after everything that had happened with your sister, you were adamant about ruining everything. Perhaps a mental professional would call it a concerning obsession, but that is precisely why you didn’t do therapy.

⤐

The wedding would be taking place on July 30th. You had sent out the first ad somewhere at the end of June. The first one, because clearly one did not suffice. You had not received any results from that. The longer it went on, without any results, the more you started to doubt your plan. It was very much possible that this was a sign not to go through with it.

A sign you decided not to listen to. In fact, as the days went by, you felt more and more in need of ruining the damn wedding.

While waiting for a phone call from the ad, all you were getting were messages from your family. It was possible that you, in a slightly drunken state, had sent a not so nice message into the family group chat. After this fiasco, your family felt obligated to get the situation cleaned up.

Not for you, though. No, god no, that would have been ridiculous. Your mother could simply not have her excellent reputation smudged, especially not by her own daughter. So, by making your sister and father spam you with repetitive messages and trying to call you, she really thought she was doing something. If only any of these messages actually included an apology, not just attempts at getting you to be quiet.

y/n don’t be so dramatic and just come to lunch with us.

It is really not a big deal; I mean, cousin Fred isn’t coming to the ceremony either.

Oh, for god’s sake, y/n, get over yourself!

You were particularly fond of that last message, even thinking about putting it as your new alarm sound. You could not put it together that your family was putting you on the same level as crazy cousin Fred, who you had not seen in probably ten years, and the last you heard about him was that he had been stuck in some sanatorium after being rescued from a ferret-worshipping cult in Iowa. But now that you thought about it… the cult didn’t sound like a bad idea.

But the days passed, one after the other, and you had received no responses from your ad. Finally, one night, after a long phone call with Rebecca and about half a bottle of Chardonnay, you started to question everything.

“Maybe I deserve it,” you had also just ordered yourself some food and were stuffing fries into your mouth as you talked, “Am I that intolerable, Beck?”

“I wouldn't say intolerable, no. But listen,” you had the feeling she sat up straight, so you did the same, “Maybe you deserved to get kicked out of the ceremony, I mean you have been acting a bit like a bitch but!” she interrupted herself exactly where you were planning on stopping her. Somehow, her words just didn’t feel very supportive at the moment.

“But,” she continued, “there is no excuse for them to treat you like complete shit, which is clearly the reason that you have been so upset, and, I’m sorry, but your entire family are morons if they don’t see that.”

“Thank you,” you sniffed, “I needed to hear that.”

“You’re welcome.” What followed was a minute of silence as both of you ate until Rebecca asked her next question, “So have you heard from anyone yet?”

“No,” you sighed heavily, “Absolutely nothing.”

“I’m sure someone will contact you.”

“I highly doubt it; it’s been four weeks. The wedding is in three days. If someone calls me now, it would be a-”, and at that exact moment, almost as if it was some cosmic joke, you could hear the burner cell phone ring on your kitchen counter. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled as you got up to check it.

“What? What just happened?”

“I think someone’s calling.” You said, feeling very detached from everything that was happening.

“Oh my god, oh my god, keep me up, put me on speaker!! Did you answer yet?” Rebecca kept on rambling, making you even more nervous.

“No- wait.” Before the person had a chance to hang up, you rushed to answer them; as you said, “Hello?” you put your regular phone down and put your call with Rebecca on speaker so she could hear what you were doing.

“Hey, is this the person that put in the ad about the uhm wedding performer?”

You couldn’t help but smile at their choice of words. It was smart, in case he had called the wrong number.

“Yes, this is them.”

“Ok, great, I was wondering if the job is still up for grabs?” Now that you had a little bit of time to process what was happening, you couldn’t help but think that the voice, the accent, sounded really familiar, but you couldn’t seem to place it.

“YES, I mean yes, yes it is. Would you be available in… three days, so next Saturday, that is.” You had prepared for this moment, imagined being cool and collected, making sure that the person who you were hiring to do this was not some kind of creep, but yet, here you were, basically begging the guy. He sounded a bit shocked at the sound of the date.

“Oh, that’s quick, but yeah, I should be, yeah.”

“Great, but uhm, would you be available to meet tomorrow maybe? I kind of have a plan of how I need all this to go, so if we could just go through everything, make sure you know-”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine, darling. Just send me a time and address, and I’ll be there.” He didn’t seem too bothered about it. You, however, needed a second to comprehend that little nickname.

“Ok, cool, I’ll send you the address later and well, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you then,” and with him having said that, you hung up and immediately went on to text him when Rebecca erupted from the speaker of your regular phone.

“Honey, what happened to the third degree you wanted to do to him? Calm and collected, remember?”

“I know,” you send the text with your address as you spoke to your friend, “but at this point, I’m desperate. This guy might be the only chance I have, so I need to take it but don't worry, I got a plan.”

“Just make sure to follow this one through.” After this, the two of you talked for a little bit more until you could feel your eyelids get heavy and you fell asleep on your couch.

⤐

Unfortunately, the morning came sooner rather than later, and the pain that throbbed through your head was more than a little indicator of how badly you slept. Not to mention you had forgotten to take off your bra before sleep, so everything hurt.

Groggy, in pain, and still tired, you sat up on the couch, trying to find something around you that you could drink but only found an empty wine bottle. Then you saw the clock and the panic set in. it was almost 2 pm! And you had agreed to meet your… What were you even supposed to call the guy? Employee? Hired staff? You decided to just refer to him as “man” before you found out his name. That was something you had planned on doing in your original plan, but it was too late for that.

To set plan B in motion, you got up and ran to the landline, which you only really used to call one number.

“Lobby, how can I help you miss y/n?” Charlie sounded ready to do whatever you’d throw at him.

“Charlie, hi. In a bit, around 2.30, a man will be coming in. I need you to get as much information about him as you can, but like… subtly, you know?” In moments like these, you were glad the phone wasn’t stationary, as you could take this time to run around your apartment, cleaning up all the mess you had made the night before. Even for strangers, it was important to make good first impressions. There was still so much to be done, though. You most definitely needed a shower, find something nice to wear, prepare all the things you needed to talk about- god, why was revenge so difficult?

“Uhhh…” Charlie mumbled. “Miss? Is everything alright?” He must have heard you stumbling around the place, bumping into things as you tried to find the blueprint of the hotel and venue. It was genuinely ridiculous how easily you could obtain this kind of information on the internet.

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine. Can you just get him to answer some kind of contact sheet? Make it look like it’s for security, I don't know. Just name, address… that kind of stuff. Nothing too weird, oh, and if you could stall him a bit too, that would be amazing.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. But how will I know it’s the right person, miss?”

“Well, he’ll be here to see me but… oh, he has a British accent!”

“Ah, right, got it.” You could hear him scribbling down the things you had just said. Charlie was a great guy, but not always the brightest. You hung up the phone, and with less than thirty minutes until the man would arrive, you rushed into the bathroom. It must have been a new speed record of washing up once you got back into your bedroom to look for a decent outfit. It had to be something decent, but not too professional since this wasn’t exactly Wall Street business that you were up to.

You had just finished drying your hair, buttoning your shirt and putting glasses of water on the dining table (somehow, all these things were done simultaneously) when you got a call from the reception.

“Miss, there is a Mr Holland here to see you.” Mr Holland. You liked the sound of that.

“Thank you, Charlie, you may send him upstairs.” Usually, you would hang up now and wait for your guest to arrive with the elevator, but instead, you stayed on the line a little bit longer: “Did he fill out the questions?”

“Yes, but I will admit it was very strange, and I think he saw through that.”

“Doesn’t matter, just bring it over once he leaves, ok? And thank you.”

“Anyday, miss.” And with that, you hung up. It may have taken another minute for the elevator to reach your floor. The doors opened with a ding, and for a second, you didn’t know what to do. The man that walked into your apartment was the last type of guy who you would have imagined to go up for a job like you had described in the ad. He was firmly built, not too tall, but his height suited him just right. His hair was styled in soft dark brown curls, slightly gelled back though, and he wore plaid trousers, a green shirt with a denim jacket on top. He had his hands in his pockets as he walked up to you, but you could see the edge of a watch peeking out.

“Hi. Mr Holland, I presume,” you extended your hand for him to shake, which he did, firmly and with a kind smile. You noticed his eyes taking in the room, looking from one side to the other, most likely feeling a bit overwhelmed by the Upper East Side-ness of it all.

“Just call me Tom.” Tom Holland. A nice, sensible, sounding name.

“y/n.” you pulled your hand back and led him to the table, where you had everything laid out in preparation. The sight of this most certainly surprised him. You looked at him, trying to figure out if you had ever met because you could swear you had seen this man somewhere before. You just couldn’t point out where exactly.

“Before I begin explaining the plan,” you sat down as he did opposite of you. “I must ask you why you wanted to do this.”

“This must be the most formal prank I have ever encountered,” he said with a breezy chuckle, but then he saw the stern expression across your face, telling him you were taking this all very seriously. “Well, I’m behind on my rent and haven't had a proper job in a while, so basically, I need the cash. And, sorry if this offends you, but my friends dared me.”

“So, not a pervert?” You imagined yourself taking notes as if you were performing an actual job interview, but unfortunately, you had neither pen nor plain paper on hand. Tom smiled.

“I don’t think anything I can reply to that will actually convince you that I’m not, but no, I am not.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I’ll take your word for now.” you took a second, trying to figure out what to begin with, telling him. “Well, might as well start then. Like I said, the wedding is on Saturday, with the reception starting at 4-”

“Why are you doing this?” He interrupted you, clearly not having listened to a word you had just said.

“Pardon?”

“You know my reasoning, but I’d like to know yours. Call me old fashioned, but I would like to know why I will be running through a wedding without any pants on. Is this a hate crime? Cause I’m not interested in any of that-”

“Believe me, no hate crime involved.” You tapped your nails on the glass of the table.

“Well then, someone must have royally pissed you off, haven’t they? If you are willing to ruin the most important day of their life?”

“My sister, yes, and she’s a grade-A asshole, so-’ and then it clicked. You knew exactly where you had seen Tom before. And from the look on his face, he must have recognised you at the sound of the vulgarity that escaped your mouth. It was as if you were both transported to the busy street all those weeks ago. You could basically feel him bumping into you.

“It’s you," you whispered, more to yourself.

“Well, shit.” He leaned back in his chair. You both mirrored each other’s expressions, which could only be explained as disbelief. What were the chances that the man who was supposed to help you ruin your sister’s wedding was the pompous dick that dared to push you aside on the street?

“You know what,” he took a sip from the glass of water you had so politely set up on the table, “Somehow, I’m not at all surprised that it’s you.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you glared at him.

“I could tell back then, just by the way you looked at me, that you were just another spoiled rich girl that must have watched a few too many reruns of Gossip Girl. So let me guess, your sister got the nicer Porsche for her birthday?” Oh, so that’s how you were gonna play it? Really? Suddenly, you didn’t think you needed Tom that much, after all. You were sure that someone else would call in a second… or maybe a bit later… Oh, who were you kidding? He was your only hope.

But fuck, from the way you were looking at each other, clearly there was no joy in this brand new collaboration. Most definitely not for you, but he was here already so you might as well take advantage of the opportunity. This was, however, a tricky situation and you could not have him fuck it up, so you needed him on your good side.

“I’m sorry, ok, I was having a bad day and took it out on you. If you want to leave, go ahead.” you pointed him the way to the exit, where he had just walked through a minute ago. You saw Tom’s mouth twitch. His gaze flickered between you and the elevator. You could tell he was outweighing the scenarios. He didn’t like you, which was fine, but he needed the money. He had made that very clear. His eyes locked with yours again, and he spoke up. Or maybe he was considering the reaction of his friend when they'd hear that he walked out? Surely, that would be very humiliating.

“You’re lucky I need a good laugh, myself, love.”

“There really is no need for nicknames, Tom.” You ignored the heat rushing through your face at the sound of it and made yourself look as unbothered as you possibly could. You didn’t need him to know he was getting to you, and you didn’t need your own mind to know it.

Detach, Denial and… what could you add to that?

Tom put his hands up in defence, and you noticed that wristwatch of his again.

“If you’re struggling so much, how come you got a Rolex?”

“Gift from my parents when I moved here, not that it’s any of your business.” He smiled, slightly condescending, which was fair. You looked at the silver band as he turned it around his wrist a bit.

“Well, ok then, as you’ve noticed, I got some stuff here,” you quickly changed the subject to divert the tension. Which seemed to work as both of you looked around at the various notes and papers that you had spread around the table earlier. Tom picked up a piece of paper that lay near his hand and started reading through it.

"I will say, this must be the most elaborate prank I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling pretty proud of yourself, even though you, personally, would not have called it a "prank".

“Wasn’t a compliment,” he put the piece of paper down, looking unimpressed, “pranks shouldn’t be 12-step programmes. They should be easy. I run in, run out, done. Don’t see what’s there more to it.”

“Maybe that’s all you need to do, but I need to ensure that, one, you don’t get killed by my family and, two, that they don’t kill me. For that, I need to make sure that this shit goes well and that you don’t fuck anything up.” Formalities, you had decided, were gone since the moment he called you a spoiled rich girl. He had no right to say something so true.

“What makes you think I’m the one who’s gonna screw up?” He challenged you by leaning forward, his brow raised. You had no response to this, so you decided to simply ignore it.

“So, like I’ve said, the reception will be at 4.”

“When’s the ceremony?” He asked.

“Why does that matter?”

“So I know how long I will have to wait before it’s time to show up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll drive us both to the reception,” you said. “And I’ll make sure you have a room in the hotel for the night… or a way of transport back to the city in the evening. Whatever you prefer. It might be for the better actually if you can leave quickly. Safer, even.”

“Are you telling me you’re not invited to your own sister’s wedding?”

“No, I don’t think I said any of that.” You were attempting to sound aloof as if you had no idea what he was talking about. But of course, he was the struggling actor here, so he saw right through you.

“Fuck, that’s harsh… sorry.” That almost sounded compassionate; his features seemed to soften, and you tried to match that energy. There was no need to stay cold toward each other.

“Thanks, not that it’s any of your business,” you jumped on the opportunity to throw his own line back at him, which didn’t go unnoticed by the look of the slight smirk he gave you. It was not your intention or in any part of the plan to tell the guy what your reasoning was for this whole endeavour, but it might have been wise. This way, you didn’t look like the complete bad guy for wanting to ruin your sister’s special day, and you even might have gotten someone on your side for a change. Not that it was much better. You still didn’t like him.

“Not to jump to any conclusion,” he said, preparing to jump to conclusions, you thought, “but why hire me to do this? I mean, this feels like a joke very much below your level. Why not hire someone to be your fake boyfriend and out show everyone? It's not that uncommon. Plenty of ladies looking for a good looking fella to prance around with for the day. My mate Harrison is basically making a business out of it.”

“Because I'm not interested in lowrate escorts, but I'm also not that great of an actress, so I don’t think it would have fooled anyone, and besides, I don’t have anything to prove to my family. Showing up with a date would just be conforming to their bullshit. I’d much rather make them miserable this way.” You didn’t care to mention to Tom that the idea of a fake boyfriend had simply never crossed your mind.

"You’re mental, aren’t you?” He looked at you with fascination as you drank some of your water.

“You can still walk out if you want to.”

⤐

Somehow, Tom wasn't too scared off by your manic side and stayed for the remainder of the afternoon.

Saturday came about much sooner than you wished for. Before you knew it, you were waiting in your car for Tom to get in. It turned out that it was actually for the better that you weren’t welcome at the ceremony, as it was supposed to start in half an hour, and it was still an hour drive when you started the engine.

Tom lived in what you could only assume was a small apartment above a Chinese restaurant. Thankfully, there had been no need to drive into any small side streets to get to his apartment. Instead, you waited in a designated parking spot, right at an intersection. Waiting, the time went by even slower than slow, it felt like, and you were about to text Tom to hurry up when you heard a knock on the window.

With a shriek, you jumped up, your hand immediately bolting to the automatic door lock. But when you managed to take a breath, you noticed it was Tom that had scared the living shit out of you. It was a sunny day, and though his eyes were covered with a pair of sunglasses, you could tell he was smiling brightly at you with his whole face. He tapped on the window again, and you quickly unlocked it. However, he didn’t step in but opened the backdoor to throw the overnight bag on the seat, it falling right next to yours. Only then he finally got in.

“Sorry, my friend was late, and I needed to wait for him because I can’t leave Tessa alone.”

“Who’s Tessa,” you asked, looking in your back view mirror for any oncoming traffic, but the view was blocked by a couple of guys carrying an old couch, making you go look over your shoulder as you tried to get your car back onto the road.

“My dog.” Tom said, grabbing his phone, “here’s a picture.”

“She’s cute.” you glanced for as long as you dared to look while waiting for a green light. Tom showed you his lock screen, a picture of a very adorable grey dog, the breed not entirely known to you.

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Tom finally took his glasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. “You don’t have any pets, do you?”

“Nope,” god, driving in New York was always so fucking stressful. People, bikers and cars coming at you from every possible angle, even the ones it shouldn’t be possible to appear from. It was as if you lacked about a hundred pairs of eyes each time you hit the road. “Sorry, I’m just- fuck,” you pushed your hand into the claxon as some asshole in a BMW cut you off.

“Maybe I should have driven?” Tom chuckled.

“What? So you can steer us onto the wrong side of the road? No, thank you.”

“That is actually really rude of you,” he retorted but had not seemed very hurt by your comment. You drove on for a few blocks until a roadblock surfaced, showcasing roadwork ahead. Two lanes had to merge together, assuring you would be arriving late. The cars moved at a snail’s speed.

"Would you want any pets? Doesn’t it ever get lonely up in your white marble post-modernistic castle?”

“I don’t know,” you could do nothing but indulge Tom in the conversation as you waited for progress in the traffic, “My mom is allergic to anything cute, so I grew up without any pets, and I guess I’ve never missed what I didn’t have.” That was a lie. You always wanted a pet. Didn’t really matter what, but your parents were very strictly against it, even now. Even though you were an adult who lived on their own, they would not have it and since they paid your rent…

“Well, if you want, I can let you walk Tess one day,” he suggested. “As a favour in return?”

“How about the favour will be that I pay you 400 bucks like we agreed, huh? I’m not gonna babysit your dog too.” Finally, the cars upfront started to move, and you had maybe moved five inches before another fucking BMW got in your way. Your blood might have actually reached the boiling point, and you began to lose feeling in your hands at the tightness of your fingers around your gear shift- but then, suddenly, you felt a soothing touch over your knuckles. Glancing down, you saw Tom’s hand over yours. His thumb moved in slow motions over your skin. When you looked up at him, he was sitting casually in his seat, eyes on the road, most likely not even aware of what he was doing. You also got to notice, and even appreciate, his outfit. It consisted of a very sharp, dark grey suit. Under the jacket, he had a white button-up, no tie.

“It’s going.”

“Huh?” you blinked.

“The traffic, the cars are moving.”

“Oh shit," you quickly moved the gear, getting the car back into motion before another damn BMW could sneak in. Perhaps it was your harsh movement, but Tom pulled his hand away, putting it on his thigh, and you couldn’t help but steal swift glances at it every now and then (when it was safe to do so, obviously).

After what was supposed to be 20 minutes but turned out to be 45, you finally drove out of the city onto the interstate. It would be another 40 minutes or so before you arrived in New Canaan, so you tried to get comfortable behind the wheel. It wasn’t easy, and Tom must have noticed.

“If you need a break, we can stop somewhere, and I can drive- I promise I know which side of the road is the right one.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Immediately, you felt much better. Or, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“So, wanna tell me what’s up with your family?” He quipped.

“Alright,” right then, you noticed a sign mentioning a gas station, “actually, you can drive for a bit.” You were ready to take the exit.

“Ok, I get it. No family talk.” he tapped his leg for a few seconds, enough for you to start thinking that he had dropped the topic. “Wanna know something? It might make you feel better.”

“Sure…” you were just doing your best to focus on the road, which wasn’t as challenging considering that you had about half an hour of driving straight forward.

“I stole this watch.” He confessed, referencing the Rolex that he showed from underneath his sleeve.

“Oh, great, so I’m stuck in a car with a criminal.” Your heart was beating a bit faster, without a doubt. Has that been his plan all along? Make you drive out to the wedding, where he could rob each and every one of your family members? Was that what his bag was for? Or was it maybe filled with unregistered weapons? So he could rob and kill you. Oh god…

“You’re too dramatic, love. I stole it from my dad before I moved here.”

“Still sounds like a criminal offence, especially if you fled the country.” Suddenly you realised you had to change lanes unless you wanted to take the exit back to New York, which didn’t feel like a lousy idea…

“I didn’t flee… my parents weren’t exactly too happy when they found out I wanted to go to New York and become an actor. We didn’t end things on great terms, and the last thing I had done before leaving was to go into their bedroom and steal my dad’s watch. I don’t even know why.”

“It’s a nice watch,” you commented, making Tom laugh. But suddenly, you had a feeling about where his story was going. "Are your parents… ok?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re great. Dad found out about the watch and wasn't too happy, but what can he do about it when I’m 3000 miles away.” He smirked and let the chair fall back a bit, getting himself even more comfortable. You slapped him across the sternum.

“Aw, what’s that for?” He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him.

"You dick, you made it sound like they had died or something.”

“No, I didn’t. Blame your interpretation for that.”

You managed to slap him lightly once more before bringing your hand back to the steering wheel. There you were, thinking he was trying to lecture you on the importance of family and love or some other kind of bullshit. Actually, it was for the better he didn't. You might have had to push him out of the car for being a total dweeb.

The short silence was getting to you, “Ok, so, what is the plan once we’re there?” You had gone over the plan in vigorous detail during that first meeting at your place, making sure Tom knew exactly what he had to do. Like you had told him then, you had three goals.

Make your family miserable.

While not getting caught,

And preferably not getting Tom into too much trouble (pain).

But you wouldn’t exactly have sleepless nights if you didn’t manage to fulfil the third goal.

“Ok,” Tom thought for a second, “when we get there, you get a key to your room and I'll meet you there a bit later. Then, I drop my stuff off and wait for the best man’s speech.” You had heard from your sister that Lorenzo, the best man, had planned a speech of about 15 minutes, so if Tom made his way downstairs at the beginning of that, he would be just in time to make his big entrance at a good moment in the party.

“Once downstairs, I need to take the path up to the woods and do my thing. Wait a few more minutes and- showtime!”

“Showtime,” you smiled back at him. “Then what?”

“Uhh, I get the fuck out of there. Into the broom closet.”

“Where I will stash you a spare change of clothes, which I assume you have with you?

“In the bag,” he pointed to the bag on the backseat. “I change as fast as I can and sneak out, then go back to the room.”

“Perfect.”

“You know, we can still go for plan B,” plan B is what Tom liked to call his whole “fake dating” idea, which still sounded as ridiculous to you as the first time he suggested it to you. There would be no way that anyone in your family believed you were together. Absolutely absurd.

“In your dreams.”

⤐

You kept on driving in silence for the next ten minutes before you finally arrived at the venue. It was a beautiful building, surrounded by ideally kept flora. Trees and bushes trimmed with impeccable precision, and what you heard in the background must have been a peacock. So yeah, it was that kind of joint.

It was a little past four when you stepped out of the car, and you could see the wedding party making their way from the ceremony to the reception. Your sister was nowhere to be seen, but you knew she must be in her room, changing into her second dress for the party.

Tom quickly got out, making his way into the reception, which was thankfully on the other side of the building, where none of your family was supposed to be at the moment (except for maybe a rogue nephew, but what would a 7-year old know?). It was his goal to stay as inconspicuous as possible. If anyone asked, he was a third cousin twice removed from the opposite side of the wedding. No one would be any wiser.

You got out of the car, seeing more of your, basically forgotten, family members who had just arrived for the booze and dance. You said your polite hellos and went off to the lobby. Tom was sitting in a lounge chair, somehow having gotten a hold of a cup of tea in the few minutes that you had been separated. You shot him a confused look but tried to ignore him, not wanting to seem as if you knew him. The woman at the helpdesk was nice; she most definitely felt overwhelmed at the rush that the wedding brought with it. (Apparently, some woman, you assumed your mom, had not been too happy with the linens that had been provided in her room and demanded them to get new ones… as in, from the store.)

You got your key, then as the actress that you were, made a bit of a show of dropping your key right in front of Tom as you said a polite hello to the “mysterious, handsome stranger”. Being the “gentleman” that he is, he then caught up to you quickly, handing you the keycard while keeping the spare one for himself. And just like that, you were in.

You got into the elevator, alone, your hand clutching to your luggage for dear life. It was only two floors, but your bag was heavy, and you had made the mistake of putting on your heels for the drive… Who even does that? So your feet were killing you before you had reached your room. And the journey to your room became even longer, when the elevator doors opened on the floor below, to reveal the wrinkly face of-

“Auntie Tua!?” you said in a panicked voice that might very easily be disguised as excitement. Aunt Perpetua was an ageless woman, but in the same way that fossils are. She always wore the most hideous dresses, of which the pattern hurt your eyes while your mouth struggled to keep your meal in at the smell of her bag. For some reason, it always smelled like sour cabbage combined with salmon. As it was the wedding, she had chosen to wear, in combination with her fishkraut purse, a bright purple dress with more ruffles than she had hair and a hat to match. Well, it was more of a fascinator with various plumage poking out at all angles.

“Ah, sweetheart!” she stepped into the elevator, the smell of salmon becoming more and more pungent. You smiled, trying to hide the tears that were already forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Not at the wedding, auntie Tua?” you asked, getting as far away as you could from the woman.

“Oh, I was, but it was terribly boring, so I left.” If you had a drink, you would be sure to spit it out. She left the wedding ceremony?

“Did anyone notice?”

“Yes, yes, your mother was not very pleased, but well, I’m not going to let anyone tell me what to do, especially a woman dressed in chartreuse.” your great aunt scoffed as if what she was wearing wasn’t a crime against society. You listened to her rant, not believing how an elevator could possibly be going any slower when the door opened again, and you slipped out, making sure to quickly press the “close doors” button again as you stepped through them to ensure dear aunt Perpetua was leaving.

You found your room quite quickly. Inside, you were, once again nearly scared to death, by the sight of Tom lying on the bed. Ah, there was only one bed, but that was fine because Tom was not meant to stay any longer than he needed to get changed in the closet.

“We got to stop meeting like this, love,” he smiled, sitting up. You didn’t trust your mouth to come up with any snarky comment in return, so you didn’t say anything. Instead, you glanced over at him. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing a set of very toned arms. Seeing the veins as he moved made you clench your jaw, but just for a moment.

You put your luggage next to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Maybe you could just stay here for the rest of the evening, not even bother with the party. The duvet was so soft, so inviting to get underneath it and curl up and sleep. As a child, you had always wondered if you could hibernate, what would be a better time than this?

“You ok?” Tom asked, scooting over closer to you.

“Yup,” you nodded, “just tired.” What you wanted to do was to fall backwards onto the soft mattress, but what you had not considered was that Tom had moved relatively much closer to you, causing your bodies to collide. As soon as your shoulder touched him, you jumped back, excusing yourself with a soft apology.

“It’s alright, but you know, I’m still not opposed to my idea-”

“If you’re scared of running around naked in front of my family, you can just say so,” you said, “but then, I hope you understand that I won’t be able to pay you.”

“I’m not sure if this is extortion or prostitution… and, in all honesty, I don’t know if I’d be opposed to either in this circumstance.”

“Now, that made zero sense; you are just plainly idiotic,” you rolled your eyes, then proceeded to sigh, “but I guess I have to go; I don’t want to miss the show. I’ll see you there… or not.” So you said as you grabbed your shoes and made your way to the door. You had not even had five minutes to rest after your drive. But you couldn’t dare to be much later, for the reception must have been well on its way.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Tom caught up to you, standing closely, maybe a bit closer for what you were supposed to enjoy, but all that the proximity affected was the shortness of your breath. It surprised you to see him get so close up to you, and for a brief instance, you were confused as to what he was planning to do, but then, almost out of nowhere, he gave you a set of clothes.

Oh, right.

“I saw a great little storage room a corridor away from the help desk.” He winked and reached his arm out. His hand brushed over your side as he got the door handle and opened the door for you.

“Right, thanks.” That was all that you managed to mutter out before quickly trotting off downstairs to the party. You decided to go down the stairs this time, remembering that the staircase was closer to the storage room that Tom spoke of… or, that’s what you concluded after a first glance of the building.

It was one thing to plan out an elaborate plan of taking some sweet revenge on your family, but it was an entirely different thing to actually go through with it. That was certain. You only had a little purse with you. So you had to carry Tom’s clothes under your arm, only hoping you would not bump into anyone. But in fear of this happening, as you walked down the stairs, you tried to think of an excuse why you were carrying a pile of man’s wear on you. Nothing compelling could come to mind.

It was, thankfully, unnecessary, for you managed to get to the room that said “storage” and quickly slipped in. it was dark, but you just put the clothes behind a pile of towels and just as quickly left. Flawless. This was a foolproof plan, after all, and you were no fool.

Tom, on the other hand...

To your own astonishment and confusion, you had the feeling that you might be growing kind of fond of him, but at the same time, you didn’t quite know what to think of the man. While your first encounter could be called unfortunate by some, and both of you had your strong opinion on the other, you still couldn't pinpoint anything on him with certainty. He was, without a doubt, very charming, very good looking, amusing, and though his words did not always make sense, his actions had the right intentions… most of the time… hopefully, but…

There needed to be a but. There always was one. You had not met a man who didn’t have some baggage on him. Maybe his was that he was willing to get paid for ruining a stranger’s wedding by running naked across the dancefloor? It could be worse. God knows you’ve dealt with worse.

But, oh, what would you know of it? You had only met him, officially, three days ago. And though you did spend a reasonable amount of time with him in those three days, you could not set on any definitive judgments about him. It was simply impractical, and frankly, prejudicial.

That was the conclusion you had come to once you arrived at the large doors of the wedding party. They were clear, so you had an easy view of everything that was going on. But, to your surprise, you could not see your sister anywhere, meaning that she must have still been preparing for her big entrance and that the party had not yet begun.

Before anyone noticed, you slipped through the door and got another look at everything. It was a lovely looking celebration. With chiffon panels hanging from the high ceilings, and fairy lights twinkling in their midst, everything had a very soft look to it, but in that polished way, your family was known for. The room itself consisted of three parts. The biggest of it was the dining area, where about… too many round tables were positioned. Each filled with plates, glasses, cutlery, a floral centrepiece and more wedding junk. Then there was the dancefloor, a parquet area, with a bit of podium at the side where the band set up their instruments.

That would have been it, but your parents had paid for the extra mile, which included the window wall to be opened up, revealing the beautiful garden, which held space for the many more wedding party activities that were unknown to you.

One final thing about the room was that it had a sky-view ceiling, perfect for a summer evening and night. The view itself was uninterrupted, and if one were to look up, one would only see the clear blue sky of the day, but if someone, for example, Tom, would look out the window, one could easily see what was taking place downstairs. Something you had really been counting on when making your plan.

It was during these moments that you thought of taking a step back and reviewing everything. Was there a possibility for you to have taken it all a bit too far? Most definitely, but you did not really give a fuck. It was honestly a rather lovely philosophy to live by.

You quickly spotted Rebecca, almost having forgotten that she had, in fact, been invited to the party. It wasn’t even that she and your sister were close, but more the fact that your sister did not care about who was at her wedding, as long as it was big, flamboyant and preposterously narcissistic.

Rebecca was sitting at one of the furthest tables, having a lesser connection to the married couple, but she did not seem troubled by that. On the contrary, she appeared to be happily settled next to someone you thought might have either been your sister’s gay dog-walker or one of her work friends. Just as you walked past her, you could hear her laugh at one of his unfunny jokes.

“Oh my god, Steve, that is hilarious!” it was then that she noticed you walk by, “y/n! There you are!

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” you didn’t want to ruin her chances, however small they may be, of getting lucky later that evening.

“No problem, Steve here was just telling me about… sorry, what did you call it, again?” Oh, this conversation was going splendidly. But, before poor Steve had the chance to correct himself, you apologised once again and excused yourself to find your own seat. Apparently, your family had not completely disowned you (yet) as you found your place at the largest table with the little card sticking out of the floral arrangement saying “1”. You would be sitting surrounded by your closest family. Hooray…

What made it slightly more bearable to you was that when you looked up through the glass ceiling, you could see the hotel and there, behind one of the windows, was Tom. he was leaning against the window and must have had found the minibar, as when your eyes met, you saw him toast to you with a glass of champagne. You were about to raise your empty glass, a bit defeated, back at him when the band started playing behind you and the large doors opened, revealing the happy couple and your parents. So that was why you were the only one at the table?

The newlyweds twirled their way to the table, with their entourage behind them, as the rest of the party clapped and cheered. You got up and clapped along, but probably a bit off-beat.

“y/n! So glad you could make it!” said the groom’s mother as she sat down next to you, followed by her husband, the maid of honour, the best man, your parents and then finally the happy couple. It was a cosy little table. You were sitting right between the two mothers, also known as menopausal hell.

“We missed you at the ceremony, sweetie,” your mother brushed something off your shoulder.

“Then why did you uninvite me?” you said through gritted teeth. To this, your mother had no response. You decided to go for another home run. “I bumped into Auntie Tua in the elevator.”

“Oh, god, do not speak to me about that woman.” Your mother scoffed, glaring over to where your great aunt was sitting, right next to cousin Fred, who looked more weasely than ever. Your mother then extended her hand over you and started clicking her fingers frantically at a waiter walking by, showing him her empty glass. The man walked up and poured her the wine which he was carrying. You took the opportunity and handed him your glass as well.

“y/n, are you allowed to drink in the monastery?” If you had taken a sip, you were sure you would have spat it out. Instead, you did your best at controlling your breathing and put the glass down slowly before smiling as nicely as you could to the groom’s mother.

“I’m sorry, Mary, what was that? I might have misheard you, I think.”

“I was asking if you are allowed to drink alcohol? Since you’ve joined the monastery, I mean.” What in the actual fuck-

“I think there has been some kind of mistake, Mary, I didn’t-”

“She didn't join yet. We thought it would be better for her to do it after the wedding. Don’t want our girl to miss out on all the fun.” Your mother butted in, almost pushing you off the chair to speak to Mary. They were actually insane. Each and every one of them. You glanced up again, but Tom was gone.

“Ah yes, that makes perfect sense,” Bert, the groom’s father, chuckled loudly and… either had a spasm or winked at you. Either way, a horrific sight. You started looking around for another table you could join instead, but each seat was apparently already occupied. You considered excusing yourself to the toilet, anything to leave this torture, and you were already getting off your seat.

“You want to say something, y/n?” your sister looked up at you expectantly; suddenly, all eyes were on you, people thinking you had a speech prepared.

“Oh, no, I was just-” you pointed to the exit, “uhm, never mind.”

“Well, sit down, then,” your mother pulled you down to your seat harshly. You were still rubbing the spot on your wrist that she had grabbed when the best man got up, clinking his knife to his glass. All attention was on him now as he started his speech, talking on and on about how the love shared between your sister and her husband was to envy and how he wished them many good things. How love was all about having and sharing and giving and receiving.

You felt like could be said in one breath, but that’s probably exactly why he got to speak, and you weren’t even invited to the ceremony. Many people made crying noises and started sniffing, but you could not see a single tear in the room when you looked around.

⤐

The speech went on forever, but for once, you weren’t mad about that. Everybody was listening to the guy spilling his fake tears about two people, while you could only think about Tom. You hoped he had noticed the speech had begun and that he was making his way outside. Though you had not had a good look at what the garden looked like, the woods were beginning very near it all, giving Tom an excellent spot to hide while also being close enough to the party. There was a path leading up to the tall trees, and if he took that, he could make a beeline for the dancefloor and parkour his way through the tables.

Oh fuck, there were so many tables. What if he got stuck between them or fell and couldn’t make his escape?

And if he got caught… a thought that had not yet dawned upon you suddenly hit. He could get arrested for so many things. And once that happened, it would only be a matter of how invested the police were in the reason behind his streaking that would attach you to the crime. Because you could give Tom as much credit as you wanted, but there was no way he would lie to the police… or would he? No… he probably wouldn’t.

“y/n.” your mother hissed, slapping your arm a bit too harshly. You must have zoned out because when you looked around, people were clapping again. The speech was over. You joined in for the last few seconds while leaning into your mother’s side.

“You know, this is basically abuse, mother.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clapping even louder, with a proud smile directed to the best man. More proud than she had ever looked at you, that’s for sure (and a bit exaggerated for dramatic purposes).

Next up was the maid of honour, a woman you had never seen before in your life, so you really questioned how much honour there really was. What honour did they even speak about, and why did the maid have it?

The speech, thankfully, was not that long. It included all the go-to points that should be included in a wedding speech, a cheer for the couple, and another wave of polite clapping, and finally, the wedding could begin as the meal was brought out. Knowing your sister, all the dishes were miniature and unpronounceable. So, while it might have consisted of four courses, it only took half an hour before people started to dance. Now you actually hoped that Tom got there a bit later cause you did not want him to spend so much time there. It could not be good for anyone.

As you thought that, you looked over to the garden and actually caught a glimpse of Tom, who was making his way to the woods. You then immediately looked at the room, trying to figure out if someone had noticed your accomplice, but no one had made any weird looks or nudged their neighbour, so you assumed the coast was clear.

⤐

Your stomach was beginning to flip as your anticipation built up in you. It could happen any minute, and you kind of wanted to be out of the room when it did. Well, sort of. You hadn’t figured it out yet. But, no, that was silly. Of course, you wanted to stay and see the horror on your family’s face.

People were dancing to a generic love song. It was a slow one. Couples holding each other close, moving to the rhythm of the music. Maybe it was a more suitable reaction for you to be jealous for not having anyone to dance like this with, but all that was on your mind was the thought that if it was any moment, this one would be perfect for Tom to show up.

Having had enough of your family and feeling pretty proud of yourself for withstanding them for so long, you got up and made your way over to Rebecca’s table. It had several advantages. First of all, it was far, far away from your family, and at the same time, much closer to the exit if you needed it in case of an emergency escape. There was also that from her seat, Rebecca had the perfect view to the dancefloor and the gardens, so you had a perfect-adjacent view when you sat down next to her. The table was also closer to the kitchens, meaning that whenever a waiter walked out, holding a new bottle of champagne, or wine, or whatever, you were often one of the first to get a refill.

“So, how’s the… thing going?” Rebecca asked.

“I hope well. But I have no idea. He could show up any minute.” Everyone from Rebecca’s table had decided to go to the dancefloor, leaving the two of you free to talk about whatever out in the open without the fear of anyone listening in- and that would be an advantage… #5? Not significant enough to keep track.

“Is there anything you need me to do? God, this is all so exciting.” Rebecca squealed before downing her drink. You were going to tell her to calm down, that, again, this was no Ocean’s Eight, but then you thought of something.

“Actually, yes. Tom will probably leave some clothes behind back there, so could you maybe take them and bring them to my room? So no one else finds it?”

Rebecca glanced in the way of the woods, where Tom was most presumably staying low.

“Sure thing.”

Not even before you managed to finish your drink did you suddenly hear gasps and the sound of someone running. The band singer stopped, almost dropping his microphone, but it took a moment for the rest of the band to catch on with what was happening. Rebecca grabbed your hand, and both of you extended your necks to look over the crowd. But it quickly dispersed, with more gasps following.

“Whoooo!” you heard the familiar voice shout out before almost jumping over the crowd and the tables in his way. There was Tom, very enthusiastic and very much naked, running through the room. He passed by your table, and you tried to look as scared as possible, but it was challenging when you saw him wink your way. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, so soon he was gone through the corridor.

“Did you know he was so-” Rebecca commented, turning around, hoping to catch a final glimpse of him, but Tom had already disappeared. You drank your drink quickly, feeling your throat drying up. When it was finished, you put your glass on the table and just shook your head “no”. You had no idea. The quick images that your mind managed to capture of his body flashed before you.

Tom had left the dancing guests in only what could be described as pure shock. You could see your mother looking sickly, holding on to your father’s arm, trying to remain stable. Your sister started sobbing and was already surrounded by her bridesmaids, who were trying to fix her make-up as she was still crying.

Then the fury hit, and a group of “brave” men started to barge their way through the room, ready to apprehend the naked criminal. It was only to your, and most likely Rebecca’s, amusement to see the entire group walk in the opposite direction than you saw Tom run to. The shock must have blurred their memory. Or their fragile masculinity prevented them from having a good look at where he had gone. Both worked in your favour.

“I think I might go to the ladies room,” you stated, a bit too loud, but that was kind of the point. At the same time, Rebecca said she was just going to hop outside for a cigarette. You had to give it to her, that was very smart because you had noticed a little smoking corner in the garden very early on.

And so, you made your way to the storage closet. Making sure no one was around to see, you knocked three times, slowly, in a way that Tom would know it was you. Finally, he opened the door just far enough for you to slip in.

“Oh my god, that was ama- Oh my god!” Oh, he was still naked. “Why aren’t you dressed yet!?” you couldn’t be too loud, in fear of being heard and getting caught, but your hissing conducted enough anger, in your opinion.

“Because I can’t find my clothes,” he hissed back. He had managed to wrap a towel around his middle- no, not even that, he was just holding it in front of himself. His chest was moving up and down with each deep breath he took. Now that he didn’t have layers of clothing on him, you could see the perfectly toned muscles that he had been hiding. They weren’t bulging, not even that refined, but you had to hold yourself back to not go up and touch him. It was that same kind of feeling a kid has in a toy store when the display has a “do not touch” sign on it. Simply ludicrous to expect a person to listen to it.

“Right, uhm”, but he needed the clothing to not get his head chopped off by your family, so you quickly started looking through the shelves. You hadn’t even realised how many towels there were when you had gone in the first time, for a brief moment even getting scared that you had left them in the wrong closet or that someone had taken them away.

But eventually, you managed to find the spare outfit. Tom took them from you, dropping them to the ground and quickly put on his underwear.

You didn’t really know what to do, so you started counting towels. Yes, it would have been best to leave the storage closet, but each time you tried, you could hear voices outside. People from the wedding talking about a "hooligan”.

“Oh, you’re a scoundrel, too, apparently,” you reported back to Tom about the things you heard outside. He laughed as he put his belt on. Why did guys always hop around when doing so?

He had just grabbed his shirt and was in the middle of putting it on when you heard the cold voice of your mother.

“I do not care if we have to tear this whole place down; you better find him!”

“Shit, my mom,” as if your mother would smell you through the door, you backed off, “what if she walks in here?” You both froze, looked at each other then stared at the door. Before you could think of a plan, Tom started unbuttoning his shirt again.

“What the hell are you doing? You know they are looking for someone naked, right? So undressing is the last thing you should be doing.” You wanted to throw his jacket at him, maybe even find a bucket to put over his head, but he kept his shirt open, and your mind went blank, just for a little bit.

Footsteps and your mother’s voice were getting louder, as well as your own heartbeat. And you might have seriously needed a cardiologist when Tom pulled you close. Basically, face to face.

“Do you trust me?”

“No?” you questioned yourself, feeling dumb at the response.

“I just ran naked in front of your whole family for you, and you still don’t- never mind, can you, for one minute? Trust me for the next minute?” He was looking into your eyes, his hand on your hip, and you could feel as he was pulling your skirt up. His eyes were nothing but sincere, so surely you could trust him… right?

“You can slap me as much as you want later, ok? Just- kiss me.”

“What?!” Fuck, that was definitely too loud. Too scared in the moment to think it through, you leaned in and kissed Tom as hard as you could. It was very messy and could not have possibly been comfortable for him, but you grabbed him by the collar and just went for it. He somehow had found the zipper on the side of your dress and had unzipped it halfway. You let go of the instinct that said to kick him in the nuts, trusting him for that one promised minute.

And there it was. The door opened, revealing you to your mother.

“y/n!” she shouted, making you pull away. You looked at yourself and Tom and realised that what he had created was just a scene of two people getting caught making out. Your mother stared at you, then gasped. “Have some respect for yourself.” Before walking away, leaving the door wide open for everyone to see. Obviously, her intention was to shoot some shame into you, but you were glowing. It worked. She had looked Tom right in the face and didn’t say anything. She had no idea who he was.

Tom passed you and closed the door of the storage room. When he turned around to face you, his cheek was greeted by a harsh slap from your hand.

“Oh fuck.” He rubbed the spot you had just hit. The smirk pulling at his lips did not go unnoticed.

“Sorry, but you offered, and I just couldn’t resist.” You got back to your zipper and tried to pull it up, but it must have got stuck on the fabric, as it would not budge.

“Here, let me help,” Tom stepped up, and you were ready to slap him again, but you knew that would make very little sense. So you put your arm up and let Tom handle the messed up zipper. He barely touched you, making you think that whatever he was doing would go nowhere since you needed to put some pressure on the fabric, but no, the next second, you could hear the sound of the zip go all the way up.

“Thanks,” you said, brushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“No problem,” he went on to button up his shirt, “and I’m really sorry for this. I just thought… since PDA often makes people nervous or something- but I'm really sorry if I crossed a line there or made you uncomfortable in any way.”

“It’s fine. Was a bit weird, but… I didn’t really mind.” You were becoming more and more aware of how close you still were to Tom. He must have noticed as well when both of you quickly stepped aside.

“We should probably… go.” He pointed back at the door, to which you nodded in agreement. Though scared of what hysteria might be awaiting you outside, you decided to rip the bandaid off and open the door. When you looked outside, no one was in the corridor, fortunately. You flattened out your skirt, making sure to look presentable, and must have taken, maybe, ten steps and had just turned the corner when you bumped into your sister.

“y/n!” she shrieked. The bridesmaids had done their best, but you could still see the streaks of foundation that had been washed down through her crying, as well as the layer of mascara and eyeliner around her eyes.

“Uh, hey, I was just going back to the-”

“Don’t bother,” she sniffed, “it’s over. Everyone is looking for-” she suddenly froze up, her eyes wide before narrowing them down. “Is that him?”

In a panic, you turned around to see Tom, who had just walked out. He was cuffing the sleeves of his shirt but looked up at the sound of your sister’s exclamation.

“Is he who?” you asked, your eyes switching between her and Tom as if it was a fast-paced Tennis match.

“Momma said you were canoodling in the closet; of course, I didn’t believe her but, hi.” She loosened up, flattening her hair and fluttering her eyelashes as Tom made his way over to you. He gave her a smile filled with charm as he extended his hand.

“Hi, I’m Tom. Congratulations on the wedding.”

Your sister shook his hand, her smile now a bit faded. Perhaps it was that Tom had reminded her that she was now, in fact, married and thus not allowed to flirt with him, or he had reminded her of the disaster that had just occurred. But she pulled herself together quickly, turning her attention to you.

“Are you guys here… together?”

“Yes,” Tom pulled you close to him before you had a chance to say anything, “yes, we are. Sorry, I’m late. Work, you know how it is.”

“No, I don’t.” your sister, who had never worked a day in her life, responded with a bit of a blank expression.

“Well, I hope I didn’t miss anything.” In the context given, Tom’s genuinity was actually hilarious to experience, especially in addition to the horrified expression on your sister’s face. You took his words and decided to play a bit off that. You looked up at your sister and tried to play off your notice of her ruined make-up.

“Wait, what happened?”

“You guys missed it?” Her lip quivered, ready to break out into tears again. She really had no idea where you had been for most of the wedding.

“I mean, I left the party like… when did you arrive, honey?” You looked up at Tom, who didn’t miss a beat in responding. He looked at his watch.

“Probably like half an hour ago, babe.” AKA ten minutes before the incident.

“Yeah, and then… well, we got a bit occupied,” you said bashfully. Your sister was ready to scream, from what it looked like. She looked at you, then at Tom, then back at you. Opened her mouth, prepared to say something. Then decided against it. She made another attempt before a bridesmaid showed up, hauling her off to the party… or, the remnants of it, at least. You were now standing alone in the corridor with Tom. Still side by side, his arm around you.

You stepped in front of him, looking happier than you had felt in weeks.

“God, I could kiss you right now!” You had done it. Like, actually done it. You had managed to fool not only your mother but the Bridezilla herself.

“Go right ahead,” Tom smirked. You blinked.

“Huh?”

“You said I could kiss you- well if you want to…”

“Oh, uhm, no, I didn’t mean it like- I mean… uhm- I mean-” you had no idea what you meant, and words were only getting harder and harder to form, but then Tom started laughing.

“It’s alright; I was just joking.” Was he, though? Or had you just made things really awkward? You didn’t know what to do anymore, so you decided to nod and smile awkwardly, and then proceed to make your way back to the party.

“y/n, wait.” Tom spurted out, making you turn around. He had his arm up behind his head, scratching his neck.

“Hmm?” You made your way back to him, even though that had been only a few steps. Tom looked at you but waited for a moment before he spoke.

“I uhh, wanted to apologise about the stuff I had said when we met. You know, about you being spoiled and whatnot.”

“You weren’t wrong,” you laughed it off, being very aware of your privilege and fortune in life.

“Maybe, but it wasn’t my place to say it. Besides, when I was upstairs, I could see you sitting at the table with your family and… again, not really my place to say anything, but I get it now; why you would want to do something like this. If my family was like that, I’d ruin my brother’s wedding too.”

“You have a brother?” Was that really the takeaway from his little speech? That was your response to all that he had said? You regretted it the second the words left your mouth- but Tom didn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah, 3 actually.” From his expression, you couldn’t tell if he saw it as a blessing or a curse. Well, knowing how siblings can be, you assumed a bit of both. Tom continued: “But anyway, I just wanted to say sorry.”

“You really don’t have to be, but… thanks,” and you kissed him on the cheek. He seemed a bit startled. Your lipstick was supposed to be long-lasting and not smudge, but a hint of the pigment stayed behind on his skin, merely looking like one of his cheeks was a bit more flustered than the other. So, not wanting him to walk around with that, you reached out to wipe the lipstick off. And you were in the middle of doing so when he reached up to put his hand over yours.

Surely, the lipstick would have been gone by now, but you were focused on his eyes, just like he was on yours. Neither of you noticed how you were moving closer to one another until your lips met in a soft kiss.

You could not explain your reasoning behind wanting to kiss him. In the last few days, there had been absolutely not one reason that would have made you eager to kiss him. Not one.... nope. There was nothing about him that drove you crazy and hot and bothered just looking at him. Not at all.

You could feel him flex his muscles at your touch, and the quick sensation brought back the images of Tom running through the dancefloor. It felt like a personal attack that you were able to have only seen him like that for such a small amount of time.

Tom squeezed your hip, and he was leading your bodies up to the wall, and you were prepared and more than eager to continue wherever this was going, but you had to remind yourself that this was the ground floor and people could walk in on you any second.

"Fuck," you gasped when your lips parted from his. "I'm sorry."

"That's not usually something one wants to hear after a kiss like that," Tom brushed his hair out of his face, "but indulge me, love, why are you sorry?"

"I shouldn't have kissed you without asking."

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself," he leaned in and softly kissed your jaw, "I'm not really the one to do something I don't want to do- and I don't think you are either. So just sat the word, and I'll stop." He kept peppering your skin with these kisses, leaving you in a frenzy. You could barely keep your eyes open, your vision getting slightly blurry as you couldn't bring yourself to focus on anything but his touch.

"We should... we should pro-" you tried to mutter out words, but it was getting harder and harder to do with Tom's hands and lips all over you.

"We should what, darling?" He paused his kisses to speak, and that one brief instant felt like an eternity.

"We should probably head upstairs." You really should have. After all, people could just walk by any moment. Neither of you was trying to hide anything, and it was just pure chance and luck that nobody, either guest or staff, had decided to walk through that corridor. And as much as you wanted to try and test that luck, the odds were most likely not in your favour, and you had already bumped into too many relatives in one day.

"Mhm, we probably should go,” he said and kissed you one last time. Only then did he take your hand and led you to the elevator. The fire in you started burning, and you didn't want to waste a second by just standing there. You tried to brush your fingers through his soft hair, but when you leaned in, he took a step back- out of the elevator.

"What the-" you sputtered out, confused and a bit annoyed. Tom just smirked.

"See you in the room," he checked his watch again, "in 5 minutes." And like that, the doors closed. Of course, you could have just opened them with a click of a button, but Tom clearly had something up his sleeve and you were intrigued, so you just clicked on the button for your floor and leaned against the wall with a sigh.

With no interruption from any salmon smelling aunties, the elevator ride went by much quicker this time, and you got out on your floor and made your way to your room. That is where you encountered Rebecca, knocking on the door. A pile of clothes under her arm.

"Ah, there you are. I think I got them all, so here- have you been making out?" She must have noticed something you didn't, or maybe she could smell it on you with her strange sixth sense because you had checked yourself out in the mirrored walls of the elevator and nothing seemed to be hinting at the fact you had just finished a pretty heavy make-out session with Tom. Rebecca smiled and pushed you playfully, knowing you too well and understanding when you didn't answer her question. Then she started looking around.

"Where is he?"

"He's actually coming up in a few minutes."

"Oh! Ok, ok, wait!" She pushed Tom's clothes into your arms and started to rummage through her bag. It took a bit, but eventually, she pulled out a handful of condoms. You gladly grabbed those from her, too, while managing to get your key out of your own purse without dropping anything and entered the room. Once inside, you dropped everything in your arms onto the empty chair in the corner.

⤐

Tom had given himself a window of five minutes, but having experienced men plenty of times in your life, you knew that would be more like ten to fifteen minutes before you heard the door opening. So, in that time, you tried to make yourself more comfortable around the room. Trying out different poses, figuring out which would be the most enticing for Tom to walk in on- which did feel a bit silly to do, but what else were you to do?

You had finally decided to simply, very casually, sit on the mattress when you heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” you said, though your original thought had been to shout “fuck off”.

“Room service,” the deep voice from the other side of the door said. You got up, ready to tell them that you had not ordered any room service and that they must have gotten the wrong room. But once you opened it, you were greeted with the handsome and sly smirk of Tom. He had his jacket hanging off his finger, over his shoulder, and in his hand a bottle of champagne.

“Sorry it took so long, I was trying to find where they were keeping the good stuff.” He walked in, unwrapping the gold foil on the cap. You looked with concern as he tried to pop it open, scared that he would shatter the window or possibly break your nose, but Tom was more skilled than you had expected, opening it with only a slight bang and barely anything spilling out. The cork fell right into his hand. He handed you the bottle, which you gladly accepted and took the first swing. Of course, you were already quite tipsy, and you knew Tom had drunk from the minibar before coming downstairs, so he wasn’t at his most sober either.

“What’s the occasion, actually?” You asked while handing him back the bottle.

“How about being a great team?” He drank. “The Bonnie and Clyde of weddings and revenge!”

“That might just be the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.” He didn’t deserve the champagne after that, so you quickly took it from him. After that sip, you put the bottle down and sat on the bed. Tom followed you, making you move back into the middle of the mattress as he pinned you in. His hands at your sides. He kept leaning in, and you leaned back until your head hit the duvet, and there was nowhere more for you to go but up for your lips to come up to his.

While you had been waiting for him, there had been a moment in which worries started to settle. You had been concerned about what it would be like once you were alone in a room with him. There was the obvious possibility of things being extremely awkward between the two of you. A little time had passed since the kiss in the hallway and either of your minds could have changed during. But it couldn't be further from the truth.

The kisses were haste and messy, and you were ready to tear off Tom’s shirt off his body when he pulled away from you.

“Mm,” he wiped his mouth, “I should probably tell you that the following services might cost you a bit extra.”

“Fuck off,” you smiled, kissing his neck.

“Mmm, as delightful a that sounds, I’d much rather,” Tom grabbed you by the leg, hiking your skirt back up like in that broom closet, “fuck you.”

Simply said, you had no comeback to that. There was nothing in you that wanted to stop that from happening. From your racing heartbeat to the heat that you could feel taking over you, it was becoming more and more of a necessity that needed to be taken care of. And Tom hadn't missed it. He was smiling as he kissed you; you could tell that he found your need for him entertaining. Especially when his hand had found its way under your skirt. The touch of his fingers against your panties made you buck your hips up at him.

"You're so wet for me, already," his words were slightly mumbled as he spoke against your lips, but you could hear him clearly. "What exactly has got you so hot and bothered, hmm?"

"I don't know what you mean," you tried to play coy, not give in to what he wanted, and it seemed to work.

"That's not the answer I was looking for, baby," Tom put his mouth up to your neck, and with each word passing his lips, and with each small puff of air, you felt the shivers go down your spine. And he just kept on going:

"Cause see," he stayed still, his mouth at your side and keeping the distance that he knew would get you riled up, "I saw the way you looked at me earlier. Or rather... where you looked. I bet you haven’t stopped thinking about me fucking you since, have you?"

He was unapologetically confident, which wasn't a bad look on him. He knew he looked good, and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. That was probably why he had no problem stripping and running across a room filled with strangers. He had nothing to be self-conscious about.

At his words, you did think back to the party, seeing him, his body, running up to you. You couldn't deny that your eyes had wandered off a bit south, and yes, he was most definitely right that that image, and the idea of what was about to happen between you two, stayed to linger in your mind.

"So what if I did look at your cock, hmm?" you tried to sound as aloof as possible while Tom had occupied himself by kissing your neck and giving the most attention to your sensitive spot. It was getting harder and harder to do as his fingers were rubbing circles against your clit. Your disinterest was beginning to be even harder to prove when you dug your nails into his shoulder, biting down a moan.

"I mean," you wrangled out, "don't pretend like you haven't been staring at my tits the whole day."

"What can I say? This dress looks amazing on you." Tom leaned down and kissed your cleavage, right above the hem of the dress. "And I bet it will look even better on the floor."

"Ouch, nope. That was actually sad, try again." men and their dumb pick-up lines, way to ruin the mood. Unbelievable. And your reaction must have thrown Tom off a bit from his plan, as his arms tensed over you, but he quickly came back.

"You know what, sweetheart,” his hand moved up and down your thigh, “the more you talk, the more I want to take back what I said earlier. You're so fucking spoiled I just want to rip this pretty number off you, and teach you a lesson. Completely ruin you while you beg for me. How does that sound?"

Every instinct that went through your head felt like the wrong thing to say. You didn't want to give in with what he was suggesting, not wanting to give him that satisfaction, but at the same time, if you would play the brat, wouldn't that be precisely what he'd like? And wouldn't it be more fun anyway? While thinking through the possibilities, the imaginary timer must have gone off, and you had been taking a bit too long to answer for Tom's liking as he spread your legs and slapped your thigh. It wasn't hard enough to leave any mark of feeling behind, but the sensation was there, and it was enough to get you to respond.

"It doesn't sound... Too bad." You looked up at him with innocent eyes. Or, in a way that you, at least, hoped to resemble innocence. But the look that had been so successful over the years, with getting you exactly what you wanted, had barely any effect on Tom. He, instead, smiled sweetly at you, almost making you think you had him under your spell, but then he cupped your face in his large hand, squeezing your cheeks in a way that almost felt humiliating. Almost.

"You can play your little games when you're with some fuckwit you pick up at a bar, y/n, but I'm not here for that. So you better be a good girl and listen to me, understood?" He looked deep into your eyes, and with his hand holding on to you, you couldn't help but nod along. Who would have thought that he had a side like that to him? It was exhilarating, to say the least, and it made you eager to test his limits.

Your response wasn't good enough, however. His fingers squeezed the tiniest bit harder into your cheeks.

When he released, you mumbled out a weak "yes". To this, Tom raised his eyebrow. Maybe he wasn't sure if you were willing to continue or how far you wanted it to go, but that was all he did. Then his smile came back, and he let his thumb move over your lips. You tried not to move, not wanting to look too eager- you still didn’t want to give him that kind of satisfaction just yet, but you had also not really been used to wanting to please a guy so much. You were usually the type to find a guy in a bar to hook up with and, hopefully, get a climax out of it. But Tom- he felt different. When he touched you, you could tell that as much pleasure as it was giving him, he actually wanted you to feel that too. Still, you were never one to give up your place easily.

For a second, nothing happened, and that second was enough for you to comb your fingers through his curls, pull him down and kiss him.

What you also tried to do was wrap your legs around him and change positions, so you were on top, but that didn't seem to pan out. Tom stayed settled on his spot, one of his knees planted sturdily between your legs.

"That was pretty cute, I have to admit," he teased, making you want to push him off the bed, but then he started to hike your dress up further and further. Past your hips. He wanted it off you, just like you did yourself. Tom must have forgotten about the zipper that was on the side because when the dress began to get stuck over your chest, you had to help him awkwardly pull it down again, and he unzipped it. With the material now loose around you, you got up a little and let him take it off you completely.

Once you were only in your underwear, he finally took care of his shirt, pulling it off his back and disregarding it onto the chair where you had put down his old clothes. That reminded you-

"Ooh, wait." you tapped his shoulder and Tom, without question, immediately got off you. He lay down on his side and watched you get up. Then, before he could ask what was wrong, you made your way to the chair and pulled one condom off its long chain.

“Someone’s eager,” he laughed to himself, clearly amused at the long chain of condoms that you had prepared there. You didn’t care to explain. At the end of the day, you were both just happy that they were there. Walking back to bed, you were making sure to remember to thank Rebecca later.

Tom took your hand and pulled you on top of him, smiling. You had never been the one to fall for these kinds of little things, never even being the one to fall for someone in the first place, but every time he smiled, you couldn't help but feel a little flutter inside.

"You're really pretty, you know that?" You said, meaning it playfully but not hiding an ounce of truth behind the statement. Tom's eyes locked with yours. Then, for a second, they filled up with a glimmer of- something. You couldn't quite tell. He brushed some hair out of your face, and by the light smirk hooking at the corner of his mouth, you were prepared to hear some snarky comment in return.

"You're really pretty, too."

The moods between the two of you kept switching, to the point that your head felt like it was spinning... or maybe that was just the result of Tom helping you sit up on his lap, his hands over your hips, while you had leaned forward to kiss him again. The taste of the champagne lingered in both of you. As the kiss went on, you let your hips roll over his. To this, Tom responded with a quick but deep groan. One of his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing it gently. He was holding himself in for you; that much was clear. Which was sweet, but you missed that part of him that made you want to get down on your knees for him- again, a very new and strange feeling, but it was not unwelcome.

So, when he squeezed again, you made sure to let him know you enjoyed it. You then bucked your hips and moaned his name softly but audibly.

"Oh, fuck," he seemed to have enjoyed that. And if you had not gotten that, there was the fact that his trousers began to get tighter and tighter around his dick. You could feel him get harder with each move you made.

The trousers were really becoming a problem, both of you realised that, so in an unspoken agreement, you got off and Tom hopped off the bed. However, it was clear that the constant switching of positions was becoming a nuisance to both of you, and before Tom took off his clothing, he grabbed the bottle of champagne, taking a generous chug from it, and handed it to you.

You sipped slowly from it, not taking your eyes off of Tom. He had already lost his shirt earlier, and the sigh of his body was, simply put, fantastic. When he had run through the wedding party, everything happened so fast, and by the end of it, you were a bit sad that you didn't have more time. Was that objectifying Tom in a sense? Fuck, maybe?

When he took his last items of clothing and looked up at you, you were unapologetically looking him over, up and down, with a smile.

"Enjoying the view?" He said, not even trying to be shy about it.

"It's not bad."

"Do I really need to fuck that attitude out of you?" He raised a challenging brow, to which you only shrugged. Without saying another word, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. Tom's eyes were basically glued to your chest. You let it hang in your hand for a moment before throwing it aside. It was like a race flag going up, as the moment the bra hit the floor, Tom jumped back into bed, and you sat up. You met halfway, both on your knees in front of each other. Both naked, ready to take the next step... you just didn't know how.

"So..." you muttered out, regretting it immediately. Nothing made a situation more awkward than acknowledging the awkwardness- which was what you had essentially just done with that one word.

Or maybe that was all in your head, because Tom grabbed you by the hip and pulled you close to him, chest to chest.

"Not doing anything we don't want to do, right?" He asked, his voice now much more gentle and caring but never losing an ounce of desire through it. You looked at him and nodded, to which he kissed the corner of your mouth.

He kept peppering your skin with light kisses until he spoke again, in a tone sweeter than honey. "Gonna be my good girl?"

You were melting into his words and his touch. You could barely comprehend when his fingers found their way back between your legs. Your hips bucked up against him as he moved slowly, sensually, agonizingly and teasingly against you. A soft moan, or maybe more of a frustrated whine, passed your lips in need of friction.

"Answer me, love, and I'll give you what you want." He was smirking, loving the effect he had on you, and you couldn't even be mad about it yourself.

"Yes," you gasped out, and Tom didn't waste a second to press his fingers against your clit, rubbing circles, finding your most sensitive pressure points to bring you to that tip of ecstasy. He kept up with the motions, moving faster, slipping through your folds and going deeper with each thrust.

However, as good as it felt, the position the two of you were in felt a bit uncomfortable. You didn't really know what to do with yourself while your body was begging for some action.

"Mmm, Tom," you mumbled against his lips. They were bright pink and slightly swollen, but you thought he looked terrific. Not to mention his hair, which was now losing its styled shape, his curls coming up from all different directions as you grabbed them. And his eyes, once golden brown, now turning darker with need.

He didn't stop his movements but hummed, letting you know he was listening.

"Could I maybe-" an unknown shyness was taking over you, and suddenly, you had lost the ability to speak. And it didn't help that when your voice shut down, Tom looked at you with those eyes of his, pushed that rogue strand of hair out of your face and asked:

"What is it, darling?" So innocently, as if his fingers were not deep inside you and soaked in your juices.

You still didn't know how to say it, so instead, you let your hand wander down his body. Over his abs, to his hip and then finally over his cock. Tom hissed in a breath at the touch but got back into his mindset reasonably quickly.

"Wanna suck my cock, love?" His hand, in return, went up to your ass and squeezed it.

"You'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" The confidence was, thankfully, coming back into you. As much as you seemed to be enjoying letting Tom take control, that feeling of submission was still foreign to you. Not unwelcome, but strange. You were simply testing out the waters- both for yourself and for Tom. Who knows, maybe he would want to switch it up a little, too?

"I can give you a good time," You kissed his neck, just below the ear, "just tell me what to do." And you could practically feel the shivers that ran over his skin at your words. You were currently in a kind of mid-space. Taking control by letting him tell you what to do. It made sense for a tiny bit, but by the tension that had arisen between you and the heat in the room, it seemed to be working.

"How about you get down on the ground and let me fuck your pretty little mouth, then?" He kissed you once more to seal the deal, and once you pushed away, you made your way off the bed to sit in front of it, with enough space for Tom to stand up.

"You know," you got yourself a bit more comfortable while beginning to slowly stroke his length. "I don't usually do this." And you blinked slowly, letting your eyelashes flutter for Tom. You could tell what he was thinking. He was ready to see your makeup start running down your face as he made you his and that thought only made you more eager to get a move on.

"And what would this be?" He patted your head, moving his head softly over your hair.

"Letting a guy toss me around." You kissed his tip, still not breaking the eye contact that you had set up between you.

"Oh, if you think this is tossing around," he chuckled. His grip on your hair got tighter, "You've seen nothing yet."

You knew that, but fuck, you couldn't wait to see how far he was willing to go. Maybe not this time, things between you were still relatively fresh, and it was never good to go all-in for the first time. But... perhaps another time. If it would ever happen. What were you even thinking? Next time? You would probably never see Tom again. This was just what happened when two people got drunk at weddings.

Did you want more to happen, though? That thought hadn't crossed your mind before. And it still didn't feel right. But, no, it wasn't the time to think about these things.

You quickly let your head clear up from all the confusing thoughts and focused on what was happening at the moment. Tom was standing in front of you, hard and already leaking precum.

You gave his tip another kiss. You wanted to take your time. Well, not really. But you did want to tease the living fuck out of Tom, and sometimes that called for a bit of sacrifice on your part. Slowly, you took him into your mouth. Pulling out and each time you leaned in, attempted to go a bit further until he reached the back of your throat.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" He groaned, grabbing your hair and letting his hips move back and forth. You let your jaw slack, trying to relax as much as possible while you focused on your breathing while Tom sped up in his movements. The longer he went on, the more difficult it became to stay somewhat composed. Of course, it wasn't really necessary in a situation like that, but a girl could try.

Your knees started to burn as they dug into the small carpet you were sitting on. As Tom kept on going, he went deeper, making you gag slightly- but that only seemed to spur him on. And just like he wanted, the mascara was running down your cheeks. You needed to release the tension between your legs, so while still looking up at Tom, you started to play with yourself.

This kept going for a bit longer, and when Tom started to slow down, you were getting ready for a release, preferably your own, but then he pulled away. You gasped for air and clenched your thighs together, not wanting to think about the disappointment that no one had probably even come close to finishing.

Tom took your hand and helped you get up, and once you were up on your feet, he kissed you deeply.

"You look so fucking gorgeous." He looked over every inch of your face taking in the mess he had caused. And to make things worse, or maybe better, he took his thumb and wiped around the last remaining staining of your lipstick. The pigment must have wiped off for the most parts since the last time you had reapplied it, but Tom was making his own little masterpiece on your face. And he sealed it off with one more kiss.

You wanted to enjoy this moment, but all you could think about was the feeling of him against you. He was still hard, and you were gnawing for a release at this point, feeling like your body was on fire.

"Get the condom, please," you would never call yourself a beggar, but you had come close at that moment. Tom chuckled at your slight desperation and turned around, grabbed the silver packet, ripped it open with his teeth, and put on the condom a bit hastily.

The tension was growing, as well as the anticipation for that one moment of contact. But, of course, Tom stopped.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his hand on your side.

"A bit more since the last time you asked," you couldn't help but smile, and he joined in.

"Good to know, but please, be honest. Do you?" You looked into each other's eyes. In the time that you spend together, at your house, in the car, at the reception, here, Tom had done nothing to offend your trust. On the contrary, he had helped you bring your plan to fruition; he treated you well and made you feel amazing.

"Yes, Tom, I trust you." You said.

"Ok, jump." And so, like he asked, you did. You jumped up a little, and he caught your legs with ease. While he held you, you couldn't stop looking at the way his muscles flexed as he carried you over to the window. Oh, so that's what he had in mind, then.

He pressed you against the window, and you gasped as your back hit the glass.

"Oh shit, that's cold," you said. Tom quickly pulled you away. Then, thinking fast while still being wrapped around Tom, you reached out for the large curtain and pulled it across to you, so you could lean against that instead of the glass. Half of the room was now set in darkness, but plenty of light still came from the other half of the window.

Tom pressed you against the curtain, this now feeling soft and warmer against your bare skin, and a bit awkwardly, he pushed into you. Your giggles that had filled the room while Tom had tried to position himself exchanged for a loud moan. If there was anyone in the room next door, there was no doubt that they could hear you.

"You're so tight, fuck," Tom groaned as he stretched out your walls. You held on to him tightly as he fucked you harder. With each of his thrusts, you were hitting the window, so you were glad that the soft curtain stayed between you, but the rings at which it was hanging kept rattling a bit dangerously.

"I- I think," you moaned instead of finishing your sentence, "I think we should move back to the bed before the curtains rip off-f-fuck!"

"Good idea, baby," Tom agreed, probably noticing the noise as well. "How about you ride my cock for a bit, hmm?"

Though the window idea was short-lived, it had been enjoyable, and it brought you to this moment. Tom sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard, and you quickly got on top, not wanting to waste another second. Things were messy between you two, far from perfect, but in a way, that's what made it so good. It was authentic and pure desire.

The new position hit in a new way, and it might have been even better. You had to try around for a bit before finding the right rhythm, but once you got there, each movement hit you with another wave of pleasure.

Tom had one of his hands on your hip, but he had made sure he was sitting up when you got on his lap, so he could give your breast all the attention they deserved. While he played with one in his palm, he had his mouth around the other. When he let his teeth graze over your nipple, both of you were surprised by the sound you made. It was a high pitched sort of moan caused by a sensation unknown to you until then. Tom got the hint and did it again, on the other.

"Fuck, Tommy," you grabbed for his hair and tried to change up the way you moved to get some more friction. Tom helped out a bit by meeting your hips with his thrusts, and each time you moved at the right moment, you felt him hit the perfect spot within you. You were getting close. But you didn't say anything, just kept on grinding. By the way that most of the evening had gone by, you had the idea that if you had announced your climax to Tom, he'd tell you to wait. Do not do anything until he gives you permission.

So, with another powerful thrust, you let your release flood over you. Then, with a high pitched moan and stars in front of your eyes, you rode your high on him. Your legs, as well as your arms, were shaking. Although you had planned on going on for a bit longer to help Tom get there as well, you simply couldn't. All you managed to do was fall over to the front against Tom's chest, your head on his shoulder. He held you close, still in you, caressing your hair.

"I'd have expected you to carry on for a bit longer, love," he smiled and kissed your temple. To this, you just swatted at his arm and laughed.

"Just give me a moment, unless you'd rather finish yourself off in the bathroom?" You smiled sheepishly.

That put the fear in him, and Tom shut up. But he kept on kissing any possible spot of your skin that he could reach from the position you were in. And, since he was still inside you, the tiniest movements from either of you caused a shockwave of stimulation.

⤐

"Did I actually ever apologize?" you whispered, not sure if Tom had fallen asleep.

"What are you talking about?" He mumbled, clearly confused.

"About calling you an asshole. Did I apologize?"

"Which time?" He snickered. "You tend to call me that a lot, I've noticed."

"I meant the first time. On the street."

"Hmm," he thought for a second, "I can't remember, honestly. But apology accepted." He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled in closer to you.

Maybe your first climax had come a bit early, but it sure as hell wasn't the last. It turned out to be a long and unforgettable night.

As the night had gone on, the bottle of champagne had finished and was now lying under the chair, haphazardly discarded. The curtain was still half-closed, and the floor was covered in thrown pieces of clothing.

Even though not all things had gone as planned, in the end, you couldn't wish for it to go any differently. Somehow, for once, things seemed to be working out in your favour.

Hell, while your entire family was still running around the hotel in panic and confusion, trying to find the man that had seemingly ruined everything, you were wrapped in his arms, falling asleep, not even realizing that both of you had found... something in each other. You still hadn't quite figured out what that something was, but it didn’t matter. It felt good, nice, and no matter how long it would last, you didn't want to let go of it just yet.

The End

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[whimsicallyreading]

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

#throne of glass #rowaelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #angst #tog #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #song fic #rowan x aelin #fenrys #day 29

[sleeping-lilies]

Title: I Get Tim a Cat Because It’s What He Deserves (oh and i guess a group chat 🙄)

a batfam/wayne family groupchat would literally never happen in canon but it would be so fucking funny you all don’t even know, so i will do it anyways.

the chat just kinda... starts. no one know where it came from. who added them. who??? none of their emotionally stunted asses would be caught dead making making a family chat tf? why can’t any of them leave? they smash their phones and then on their laptop a notification pops up like “you’ve joined ‘x’ group” and they’re stuck there. might as well use it ig, but for what???

“everyone who is alive type ‘i’” no one responds so bruce spends hours trying to find out where their bodies are until he finds out everyone just had the chat on mute

“why isn’t alfred on here” “huh. alfred isn’t on here and no one knows who made the chat?” “so whoever made it just left immediately?” “...” “lol anyways”

tim was trying to send a snap to the core four gc but accidentally sent it to the family chat and gets super embarrassed (of course this happens when everyone’s online why wouldn’t they if it makes tim’s life more difficult) and everyone makes fun of him. duke printed out copies and plastered them all over tim’s apartment while tim was out for something and tim nearly murders duke. after that no one puts the chat on mute because this was too funny.

no one actually, like, texts on a regular basis because they’re not like other families 🙄 they only text if it’s really important or someone’s dying.

that’s being said, “dick where is dog” “send doggy” “dog?” “send doggy” “dick when did you get a dog?” “SEND DOGGY” “i demand you send the dog this instant” “dog now.”

damian breaks into dick’s apartment to take a selfie with him and haley (or bitewing, haley is just shorter to type) captioned “she is mine this is a warning to all of you. i will not hesitate if any of you low lives come near her.” and dick is like “??? this is my dog i can’t have anything these days, siblings take everything, man—” oh ya, everyone reacts to the haley photo with a heart. also dick only lets this shit slide with damian, if jason the problem child pulled this shit it would be on sight lmfaooo

- tim: the dog is cute but, but in photography i learned you have to crop out everything unimportant, like this *crops out damian from the photo*

- in other news, tim joined the dead bats club and now only bruce and duke are left 😃🔪

bruce: check in if you are alive. *everyone’s status is online*

u don’t know about y’all, but my bruce wayne is a responsible father who keeps an eye on his kids, or at least does his best, “has anyone seen duke? he has school and i can’t find him” “i will find him... if you give me $50.” “i will give you the money jason just tell me where he is” jason sends a photo of himself and duke laying down on the floor eating pop tarts.

-“literally why do you all keep coming into my apartment” “our apartment, dick” “i pay for this apartment it’s mine, i keep living in blüdhaven for a reason, god, siblings always steal everything that’s your’s—” it’s ok guys dick simultaneously has eldest daughter’s syndrome and absent sibling syndrome, who is doing it like him? legend behavior. anyways, duke and jason left crumbs on the floor and dick beat them up lmao.

“can i have money” “dad” (theyre sent by same person just different text) “yes cass i will sent you as much as you need, $2,000 is enough for shipping with friends?” “dad can i have money too” “dad can i too” “may i have some too dad” “dad” “dad” fhdjdjsks they only call him dad when they’re dying, want something, or are tattling on each other, someone save him 😩

“@everyone the interviewer in the last segment asked me if we have a family chat and i have a feeling they will try to pry into my texts to see what we are texting, please actually send something so they don’t get even more nosy from our lack of communicating” *someone sends the bee movie script*

ok but like, as time goes on they get more comfy texting each other and acting like a normal(ish) family unit that texts a little more. like tattling.

“someone broke the vase in the hallway and if they don’t want me to tell pennyworth who did it they will buy alfred the cat a new scratching post by nightfall” damian is so funny i love him

“HELPPVHRNXKAK” “what’s up with jason?” “cass is sitting on him” “lol” “i think she’s gonna break his arm fhdjdksk” “ANDBSJ I HAT E YO U A LL” “when did you all come to the manor???”

“😂” bruce vs “lol” dick and cass vs “agdhsjak” tim and duke vs “hA” jason vs “i don’t find any of you funny” damian

“damian i am putting your lemon cake pop thingies in the last bottom shelf on the right, i put the code and everything in the safe” “how often does damian even come to your apartment, dick?” “whenever you’re being an asshole bruce” “he’s always an asshole dickhead 🙄” “exactly 🥰”

“dad guess what” “TIM NOOO” “remember when” “TIM TIM TIM” “you told duke to take the day shift” “I WILL NEVER POST YOUR SNAP PHOTOS TO A GROUPCHAT WITH THE ENTIRE SUPERHERO COMMUNITY AGAIN!!!” “and he agreed to if he did his school work first?” “MERCY, MERCY” “what did he do, tim” “fjdjxkskkz duke goes on school zoom meetings during patrol and pretends he doesn’t have a mic and camera and i was watching his helmet footage and it was so funny, the teachers just believe him when he pretends to have really bad network and can barely type in the chat” “my teachers never trusted me that much” “that’s because you made a kid cry once jason stfu” “wait how did u know that cass—“

“AHDBSNZKAJHF” “stfu duke” “what’s wrong with him where is he?” “cain came to visit” “ohhhh” “FHDJFJDJ HELLPPPXSND” “i know you’re taking a video, you little shit, send it” “no todd come here and take one yourself—or don’t, your presence is unwanted” “fucking brat”

“DAD DICK HIT ME” “DAD JASON’S LYING” *bruce wayne online* (he doesn’t fucking respond fhsjskla) (is it because he’s exasperated with them or crying because they called him dad even though it’s a manipulation tactic or both we’ll never know)

“everyone who is alive, type in chat” *everyone is online* then bruce edits the message to say ‘everyone who wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, type in chat’ “i guess NO ONE wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, how sad” and the entire chat goes wild lmfao

ok uhhh let’s do on a scale of 1-10 texts most vs is online the most

bruce: 6-texting, 5.9-online because he always makes an effort to text his kids to check up on them and when his kids are texting he will text as well here and there in the convo to interact with them because he never sees and interacts with them normally and he wants to do better 🥲. he get’s minus 0.1 because of that one time jason and dick were fighting and he logged off agdhsjnz

dick: 3-texting, 3.5-online because he’s the only one in this hellhole of a family that has an actual job (in this house we uphold gymnastics teacher grayson 🙏) and sometimes he won’t have energy to text. so. but he does make an effort when he can. he’s online more than he texts because he’s able to sneak looks at the fights when he has downtime during his job and wants to see the drama lmfaooo. also everything goes on in his fucking apartment for some reason, so now he gotta break up a (one sided) fight between cass and tim because someone has to be a responsible adult.

cass: 2-texting, 10-online because she watches more than she texts? she’s more content to watch what’s going on than to join in. also 8/10 she’s usually the one causing the drama that everyone’s texting about, like beating up the others, so she can’t text while beating them up. i mean she could, but she wants to put more energy in beating them up (lovingly) (cass is basically violence (loving)) and watching what everyone’s saying about her fights. she’s always online to catch a glimpse at the drama. also most of her texts are to dick to see bitewing. and ask for money.

jason: texting-8, online-4 because if cass is the one causing drama offline, jason’s causing drama online. jason wants to be chat cryptic but texts the most lmfaoooo. he’s antagonizing his siblings whenever he sees them and whenever he can’t, king shit. he’s online less because he deadass doesn’t care that much, he’ll read the texts later if he really wants to, otherwise either duke or tim will fill him in on the drama. (“jason ur in the chat too—“ “shut up, tim, now tell me how cass beat damian’s ass)

tim: texting-6.44444, online-10, see tim texts a lot just not to the family group chat lmfao, he has REAL FRIENDS 😤 uhh ya, that’s why he’s online all the time, cuz he’s either texting his friends or on his phone doing some shit. broke: tim stays up late working on cases, woke: tim stays up late texting his friends and playing video games over chat. tim just. interacts with his family, gets bullied by them, ya. that’s the life. also he and duke keep throwing hands because it’s the family curse to beat up tim and in this essay i will discuss how dick is the superior sibling because he never tried to kill tim—wait he probably pushed him down the stairs once nvm but it was totally justified, king

duke: texting-4, online-4 because he has, like, school. and daytime patrol. and is like a junior in high school and therefore has a fuck ton of homework. my boy has no time for family and he doesn’t want it because they’re annoying, obviously 🙄. if he wants drama he’ll go into damian’s room and get the drama. diy icon. he’s online as much as he texts but is so fast of a reader he’ll know the drama in time for the next episode of wayne family shit. most of his time online is picking fights with tim and roasting his siblings to a crisp. he’s so mean, guys, legend has it that one time duke told jason that his helmet looked like a shriveled up dildo and that it could never be the gay statement he wanted it to be jason went offline for that entire day in order to cry himself to sleep. at least he got sleep (allegedly) ayyy duke the problem solver.

damian: texting-1.5, online 2 because the only time he’s texting is to ask dick for photos of bitewing and to send photos of his pets back as proper payment. a negotiator ugghhh father like son. damian honestly doesn’t care about the drama he just wants to sketch bitewing (using the photos dick sent as reference) into the Family Portrait Sketch™️ of the rest of the Animal Family™️. it is an honor for damian to create such a piece, picasso the women hater quakes in his grave as such art that blows his dog shit “art” FAR out of the water is developing. anyways, he goes online for that and to throw random barbs at his siblings. like no one is online and damian just throws a “drake is stupid” in chat and just dips. he’s online more to text the other teen titans and jon because they’re better than his dumbass family (and he texts grayson on messenger so fhdjdjsks) true chat cryptic, jason envies him

alfred: 0-texting, 10-online. huh who said that

“duke take down the tik toks, tim is crying”

“who has my sweatshirt??? i will kill you all” “i have it jason” “nvm cass that’s your sweatshirt now i’m sorry for being presumptuous don’t aTTACK ME” fhdjdjsks

“guys i have the day off do you want to hear when delilah said to jonathon it’s so funny” “are those the kids in your gymnastics class?” “ya” “tell us everything”

the bats just... love hearing drama about those kids because they’re so dramatic. apparently alex threw a rubber ball at maya and she tackled them. wild.

time for a round of: WHO SAID IT?!?!

“how do i make my text bold like the rest of you?” —bruce, dick, cass, and jason at some point.

“how do i change my screen name? please change it back to before” -cass when tim changed her name to “hal jordon #1 stan” (“what is a stan” —bruce), (“i don’t like it either change it back” —bruce after finding out what a stan is)

“what the fuck is a pog” —jason

“fucking ‘tik tok’. we used to use vine when i was a teen. i was a front line soldier of great disasters” —dick on one hand lmfao dick is so old but on the other hand holy shit you used vine??? tell us more about the battles fought

“what is a dilf?” —bruce after scrolling through twitter

ok that’s all, my brain is gone.

“cass dick is turning purple get off him” “no. make him give me my scarf back.” “oh dad that’s terrible can you send a video as evidence?”

“GUYS I FOUND A CAT AND IT SCRATCHED ME AND IM GOING TO THE HOSPITAL BUT GUYS!!! CAT!!!” “drake send a photo of the cat immediately” lmfao bruce zooms to the hospital after that text

“GUYS THE CAT HAS AN OWNER I CANT KEEP THE CAT 🥲” “the one time you could prove to be of use and you fail, drake.” “wow tim, find a cat to steal without an owner next time” “timmy, timmy, timmy, i can’t believe you’ve messed up in finding a cat again” “again?” “again?” “again?” “when i adopt a cat i’m not showing any of you, i hate you all” (lmao hard version of guess who is who i’ll give you a hint dick cass and bruce are the confused ones. )ok it’s not hard anymore.

“dad please get me a cat 😳🐱 haha jk 🤣😩 unless 👀😏😃🙏🥰” anyways tim named the cat starry because of her fur-hair-thingy

“they just so you all know steph just crashed in my apartment and i have work in the morning” “i will pick her up in the morning” “you mean tim will, you don’t have a license, cass. anyways”

“dick do you need help moving?” “no, bruce, i think i can handle it, donna and wally are helping me anyways, but thank you” “mOVING???” “OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT???” “DICK THAT SAME APARTMENT ON 666 HELLHOLE AVENUE???” “...ya?” “NOOOOO” anyways they all break into dick’s new apartment when he moves in, walk around it, and then leave. they just... ya... damn, these bats...

anyways that’s all. see ya.

#dbsjxjjs the batkids just have an attachment to dick’s apartment #the batkids: sir thats my emotional support apartment you can’t just move #fuck you all damian is very well versed in internet culture he just chooses to not use it #dick was around in the time of VINE. YALL. #the fact that dick is the only one with like a normal job fjsjsks #he’s the only one that does his taxes too besides bruce #bruce trying his best and that’s all i will accept. i love him. #jason: wannabe cryptic vs damian: cryptic king. #cass just. beats up her brothers because she can. she deserves it too. #tim deserves nice things so i gave him a cat. #duke is so funny i love him. #he’s like “time to fuck up tim’s life again heheheh” #duke is literally 16? a teen? he’s mean by default thats it #dc comics #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #featuring those damn gymnastics kids 😩 #mine

[moral-turpitudes]

Silver Linings: Part 1

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: Excuse any of my terrible math skills and if this seems rushed. This is the best I could come up with lol, I hope you all like it though!

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Slight Fighting, Descriptions of Drug Use, Drinking, Familial Drama, Fluff, Mentions of Adoption, etc.

Word Count: 3,972

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Adopted Daughter!Reader + Michael Gray x Alfie’s Adopted Daughter!Reader

Summary: After growing tired of hiding, Y/N decides to venture out from the back of her fathers shop, not knowing she’d quite literally fall for one of her father’s enemies who happened to be lurking around the corner. But with tensions growing between the two families, one decision could change the course of their lives as they know it, for better and for worse.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | *Part 4* | Part 5

“Alright Y/N, now when you aim you gotta line yer eyes up with the sight. Take a deep breath, and on that exhale of yours yer gonna pull that little trigger right there.” Alfie said, the teenage girl only coming up to around his chest, her hands shaking slightly as she aimed the small hand gun for one of the flour sacks in the back of the shop. With a small exhale she fired, the bullet whirling through the air and into the target she’d helped draw on it the day before.

“See that’s not so hard innit?” He asked, smiling at the new light in his life.

Y/N heard her father calling for her upstairs, bringing her out of her daydreams from years ago. That was during the first week she’d lived with him after he adopted her from the nearby orphanage. She had no adoptive mother, and no other friends except their dog Cyril, seeing as she had to be practically hidden away on a daily basis. The only time she really went out was to work in her fathers shop, where she’d do her best to avoid being spotted by her fathers business partners-some of which who had strained relationships with him and his men.

Shaking the memory from her brain, she hesitantly walked up the stairs, the creaking of the wood announcing her arrival.

“There you are love. Listen...I’m having Mr. Shelby come by soon so you’ll have to work in the back alright? I know you’ll get me for it later but I’ll make up for it mmkay?” He said, looking his now 21 year old daughter in the eyes. People often found him intimidating, but over the years she grew used to him, knowing deep down he was a sweet person. With every interaction she observed, she could see the pain in his eyes over not being able to really introduce her, knowing it would put her at risk. But deep down there was a mutual understanding between them that it was going to be inevitable that someone would find out, but neither of them thought it would be so soon.

With a sigh, she reluctantly walked towards the back where the other “bakers” worked the ovens and inspected shipments. While she organized bricks of cocaine for shipment, she felt her stomach drop as she realized she’d left her gloves in the front of the shop. She often hated the texture of the bricks as she packed them away, the fabric gloves being her only solace when she was given the task.

Swallowing hard, she nervously crept around the corner, eyeing Thomas Shelby and some of the other blinders in her fathers office as she continued, not noticing the man she collided with as she stumbled back slightly.

“Oi! I’m so sorry sir...wasn’t even fuckin’ looking.” She said, brushing a stray hair from her face and tightening her apron around her waist.

“No problem love, you alright?” He asked, looking concerned as he adjusted his well tailored suit.

“Y-yeah. Just looking for my gloves. I have to go.” She said, knowing she wasn’t supposed to be out for long while the blinders were there, yet trying to not look the dashing man in the eyes.

As she walked away, his eyes followed her to her station where she usually rolled dough and decorated pastries, grabbing her gloves which were tinted white from the previous cocaine shipment she handled earlier in the morning.

“Hey...miss? Before you go...what’s your name?” He asked, a crooked smile spreading across his features as she neared him.

“Uhm...it’s Y/N. What’s yours? You don’t look like you’re from ‘round here.” She said.

“I’m Michael, Michael Gray. I’m with the blinders.” He said.

“Oh....um, well I have to get going. It was nice meeting you...Michael.” She said, awkwardly putting on the gloves as he recognized the powder falling off them.

“What do you around here anyway? I know that’s not flour on those gloves.” He said with a smirk. She swallowed hard before answering, her eyes flicking to the window of her fathers office.

“Um...I bake, and...I organize things. Listen...I really do have to go. I’ll see you ‘round sometime, yeah?” She asked. He followed her gaze to the window, noticing the nervous look on her face.

“Alright. See you around, Y/N.” He said with a wink, walking back to his lookout spot in the corner.

She smirked slightly as she passed him, reluctantly heading straight to the back, the other workers paying her no mind as she resumed packing the bricks.

As she worked, she could hear shouts coming from her fathers office, her stomach tightening in knots at the tension she could see forming in the room. Thomas and him standing close to each other, most likely mumbling threats under their breaths. A few moments later, she saw the men exit the tattered room, putting their razored caps on and storming out the door. Michael ultimately leaving with them, but catching her staring as he looked back towards the room she was in. She smiled lightly as he smirked, shutting the door behind him.

She shook her head as she turned back, getting the rest of her packing done while shaking away the thought of someone like him ever taking an interest. She knew her father dealt in dangerous business, so she wasn’t afraid of the blinders and her father doing business necessarily, but she couldn’t deny that them feuding terrified her, knowing even one slip-up could put her or her father at risk. Blowing their years-long cover.

As she was lost in thought, Alfie walked down after they left, smiling as he grabbed a bottle of rum from one of the crates and locking it back.

“You don’t have to organize all those love. How about we go call it a day aye? I know you’re probably wanting summing’ because your old man made ya work back ‘ere all day.” He said. His words annoying to her ears as of late as she grew bored of her life at the shop and at home. One question forever buzzing in the back of her mind as she continued her monotonous tasks.

“I was wondering something....” She said, taking her gloves off and turning towards him.

“Yeah? Wondering about work or what? I’m all ears now you know.” He said, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand.

Her stomach tightened again as she looked her loving, yet over-protective father in the eyes.

“I was uh...wondering how you would feel if I moved out?” She asked, the thought barely working its way through her anxious mind before spewing out of her mouth.

“What?” He asked, his eyes squinting as he cocked his head to the side.

“I-I just think since I’m an adult now, I’d like to have a place of my own. That way I won’t come between ya and the business as much. I’m tired of hiding, dad.” She said, throwing the gloves on the table as she sat next to him.

“What devils gotten into your bones? Have you been sniffing the snow or drinking me rum?” He asked.

“No dad....I just...I just want to be more independent that’s all.” She said.

“I’ll tell ya what...if you pack the snow for the next month I’ll up your pay so you can get you a place. I’ll chip in some too but getting it on your own will be good for ya. I taught you to shoot but I didn’t teach ya about life aye?” He said.

“No not really. But spare me the lectures. Let’s get home. I’m starving.” She said.

“Alright. Let’s get on with it then.” He said, walking with his cane as they made their way to the car.

As the next few weeks passed, she found herself going into work with a smile. Knowing she’d get to work towards her own place, and for the chance to see the dapper blinder who’d been making regular appearances lately, and to her surprise, for more than business reasons.

He’d been sent by Thomas to crunch numbers and talk bets with Alfie, knowing that he was sent to handle more of the legitimate business than the illegal stuff.

But if Y/N learned anything throughout her years, it was knowing when to make herself known.

She waited until Alfie closed his office door, watching Michael walk down the creaky steps as she did a small whistle.

He turned around and grinned, walking towards her, as was becoming their habit recently.

“Y/N, didn’t think you were here, love. Must’ve been in the back again aye?” He asked, quietly. She nodded and led him to one of the women’s lavatories.

“W-why are we in here? I haven’t even taken you on a date.” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“Shh. There’s no other place right now for us to go. I haven’t told him.” She said.

“Told who?” He asked.

“My-my father. Alfie.” She said, nervously biting her lip as she removed her hand from his. Crossing her arms over her chest.

“Wait...your father is Alfie fucking Solomons?” He asked, his face hardening at the fact. His usual happy demeanor fading.

“Well, adoptive father. He uh adopted me when I was 16 from an orphanage ’round here. He wanted to protect me...from uh...people like you. I guess he’s had some bad history with the blinders and other groups so I’ve been most my life, just working here to pass the time.” She said.

“People like me? What...are you afraid of me?” He asked.

“What? No! I’ve been around dangerous men all my life. I’m just saying that your blinder cousins may not take a liking to me and neither will my father to you. I just have a bad feeling about it.” She said.

“So...what are we to do? Fucking talk in the bathroom every week or what?” He asked, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“We’ll do what I do best. We’ll have to hide.” She said. He looked at her with a confused expression as he put his hand on her hips.

“I get off at 4pm and my father won’t be home until late at night. I usually go straight home, but meet me at the warehouse later around 7pm, yeah?” She asked, seeing him smirk.

“Michael I’m deadly serious. If Thomas or my father finds out we’re as good as dead.” She said.

“Fine...I’ll meet you, but I want you to bring some of the snow. Can you sneak it out?” He asked.

“Yeah. Alright, now go, the workers are coming down the hall.” She said, hearing the plethora of Alfie’s men stomping down the dark hall, making it easier for Michael to slip out un-noticed.

“See you then, Y/N.” He said, pecking her cheek before he left.

She rubbed the spot, her cheeks flushing at the brief contact.

“Y/N?” Alfie’s voice rang from the hall, making her heart race as she thought of all the reasons he could be asking for her, internally praying that it wasn’t because he caught Michael leaving.

“Yeah dad?” She asked, quickly stepping out of the restroom.

“Thought ya ran off love. I was just gonna remind ya I’m working late again.” He said.

“Alright, how many nights are you working late?” She asked.

“Well, probably every day for this month. Thomas and the rest of his blinders are damn near making me lose me mind.” He said.

“Oh...ok. Well I’ll keep an eye on Cyril then. Is it ok if I go out to the shops later? Been wanting to stock up for the new place, for whenever I get it.” She said.

“I mean I’m not going to be there so I can’t stop ya can’t I? You can but remember your gun and that knife. You remember how to use it aye?” He asked.

“Yes dad, I can’t really forget stabbing a man for you, nor can I forget putting a bullet through his head.” She said, shivering slightly at the memory of when things got tense at the shop with a disgruntled employee. Alfie had beaten the man unconscious and dragged the man to the back, telling her that it would be good practice. And it was, but after it was done, she vowed to herself that she’d never use such weapons unless she had to.

“Right, well I have to go deal with some business. I’ll let you off at 4 like usual alright?” He asked.

“Okay, thanks dad. I’ll see you...I guess tomorrow depending on how late you get in.” She said giving him a hug before walking back to her station.

The last few hours dragged on as she reminisced over the past couple of weeks. Her heart skipped a beat thinking about how they’d secretly talk and make out behind the shop where her dad couldn’t see, and how on days like today she had to drag him into the restroom as her heart beat out of her chest at the rebelliousness of it all. It was nothing compared to what she planned to get away with tonight, and for hopefully weeks to come, but it was a small step towards her independence, even if they had to hide their relationship from the world.

As the clock struck 4 she headed towards the back of the building, snagging a bottle of rum from an opened crate and replacing it with one that had just came off the line for the night. Shoving the bottle in her purse as she grabbed a rather small brick of cocaine, it being one of the various runts in the pile they’d received that day.

With quick steps, she went out the door and down to the car that was waiting for her. The purse growing slightly heavy as she continued on. Her father didn’t want her walking home alone of course, and so he arranged for one of his men to routinely take her home, ultimately becoming a blessing and a curse for her independence she was so desperately trying to achieve.

“Hello Tim, I have an odd request today.” She said, counting the huge wad of cash in her purse she’d managed to save up well before asking about apartments

“What’s that Ms.Solomons?” He asked, hid old face wrinkling with a smile.

“Can we stop by the housing department? I’ve had my eye on an apartment for a few weeks. Don’t worry though, I’ve already gotten my fathers approval.” She said, pulling off her biggest lie yet.

“Alright, after that do you wish to go home? He asked.

“Yes please.” She said, watching as the streets zipped by.

Once at the housing department, she told the landlord where she’d like to stay and she followed her to the requested location. Her eyes lit up as she saw the rather grand place. It was just close enough that her father needn’t worry too much while also being just enough of a distance away from the shops she loved going to. It was a rather safe area given the town and her fathers plethora of men protecting her, but she enjoyed the new sense of independence as she gave the woman a cash deposit, along with enough for the years rent.

The woman’s eyes lit up as she saw the amount of cash, Y/N rather un-phased given her fathers business.

“Are you sure Ms.? This is so much in advance.” She said.

“Yes. When shall I move in?” She asked. Checking her watch and seeing it was just after 5pm.

“Oh I’d say ‘round any time next week. Here’s your key, just drop by before you begin moving in.” She said with a smile as she got in her car and left.

“Alright Tim, I’m ready to go home.” She said, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I’m impressed. You got this place yourself? Alfie must be proud.” He said.

“Mhmm.” Y/N said, nervously fidgeting with her hands as she remembered the lie. He’d have her neck if he knew she’d already bought the place earlier than he would’ve liked. But what could it hurt?

The minutes passed rather quickly as she was dropped off at her house, walking inside to see Cyril’s tail wagging as she came through the front door. The house was dimly lit and quiet, just as she’d left it that morning. She played with him and made sure his water bowl was filled, seeing as the maid would help feed him later, but she still loved helping wherever she could.

“Ms. Y/N, I have your dress ready. I’ll feed the dog later and make sure the house is kept before leaving. I hope you enjoy your date.” The older woman said, a genuine smile on her face.

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me these last few weeks. Here.” She said, giving her a few slips of cash from her purse.

“Just as a thank you. I’ll be moving in next week to my apartment. Dad doesn’t know though so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him.” She said.

The maids eyes widened at the cash in her hand, agreeing with a small smile and a quick nod before returning to her duties. As much as she loved this house, she wanted to do things on her own terms. She wanted to meet people on her own terms, and finally not hide herself. To make more friends than just the maid. To start actually living.

With an excited smile she ran up the stairs, putting the casual dress on and doing her makeup, deciding to leave her hair as-is, then anxiously making her way outside. The purses weight tugging at her shoulder as she walked down the quiet streets, her gun in her purse and her small knife in hand.

Once she neared the warehouse, she sat around the back, taking a swig of the rum before Michael got there to calm her nerves.

She watched the sun set over Camden Town, the birds songs ending as the insects buzzed about, the air turning a bit colder as she looked at her watch. It was just after 7pm, her heart sinking in her chest as she thought he’d stood her up. But after a few moments, she heard footsteps, making her panic slightly not knowing who was behind them. She carefully drew her gun, aiming at the man as he walked closer, his hands soon up in surrender.

“Y/N? It’s me. Michael.” He said, a smirk on his face, lowering his hands.

“I figured you were ‘round back, didn’t think you’d try to shoot me though.” He said.

“Sorry. You never know out here.” She said, putting her gun away and retrieving the cocaine and rum.

“You carried all that here? I’m impressed.” He said, inspecting the cocaine as she opened the bottle, taking another swig from it. She cringed internally as the liquid burned her throat. She’d only drank a few times, not to any huge extent, but now that she was older and more capable, she figured she at least could drink how she pleased.

“How’d you score this rum?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle as well.

“I stole it from my dads stash in the back. And that coke is one of the runts of the batch, it was too small to pack in the big crates. Figured I’d bring the whole thing since you seemed to know about it a couple weeks ago.” She said, smirking at the memory of their first awkward meeting.

“Have you tried it?” He asked, leaning back against the wall of the warehouse.

“No.” She said turning away from his gaze as she nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s easy. Watch.” He said, unwrapping it and shaving off a sliver of the white substance with her knife. He sat it on top of the brick and made sure it was all crushed, forming it in a straight line.

He handed her the brick carefully as she held it up towards his face, him inhaling the powder through his nose in one fell swoop.

“You want me to shove that shit up my nose? Are you mad?” She asked, giggling as she took another swig from the rum.

“Yeah. Can’t hide from everything love.” He said, his words hitting home probably more than he realized.

“Alright, if I die, my fathers gonna have your head on a spike.” She said.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He said, preparing a smaller amount of the drug and holding it up to where she could inhale it through her nose. Her nostril burned as she did so, the foreign particles lacing their way through her system.

She laughed and shook her head, wiping her nose of any excess powder as she looked up at Michael who was chuckling slightly.

“That was so odd. I’m not doing that again. Not right now anyway.” She said, handing him the bottle of rum as she curled up next to him. It had only been about a month since they’d met, but even then, their interactions became more frequent.

Over the next few weeks, it was as if they’d known each other for years the way they got on. His aunt Polly eventually seeing a spark in his eye that wasn’t there before, and the same went for Alfie.

“You’ve met someone. I can tell.” Polly said one night, catching him coming in drunk on more than one occasion.

“Yeah I did. Tommy can’t do anything about it. It’s not his concern so don’t go telling him.” He said as he stumbled into the house.

As Michael grappled with the weight of seeing an adversaries daughter, Y/N had gradually moved things into her apartment with the help of her driver, all under her fathers nose. But she knew that once her room was more vacant, he’d catch on. Knowing if the blinders didn’t anger him enough, her leaving suddenly surely would.

One night after a drunken date with her mystery boyfriend, Alfie confronted her. Holding the small brick they’d chipped away at over the previous weeks.

“Oi! You wanna explain this? No daughter of mine is going to be sneaking drugs in me house. Do you really think I’m dumb? Cuz I guarantee you I’m not. This can’t happen. Not under my roof.” He said, lighting his cigar.

“Well if you didn’t want to pack it anyway I thought I might as well put it to good use. But uh, I’ll be sneaking it under me own roof from now on. I’ve bought a place if you couldn’t already tell from barging in my room to find that.” She said, folding her arms like she often did when she was frustrated.

Alfie stepped closer to her, his eyes not leaving hers as she barely flinched.

“I’ll find out who you’re doing all this for. Once I do, you’ll wish ya never stole a thing.” He said, walking towards his chair he usually sat on in their grand living room.

Y/N shook her head and chuckled to herself, stomping off towards her room. Her mind raced as she thought about what to do, grabbing what was left of her clothes and hurling them into her suitcases, deciding to leave the house for good in the morning.

Alfie sighed and sat back in his chair as he heard Y/N rummaging around upstairs. The sweet girl he helped raise all of a sudden wanting to leave the nest. 

It seemed like everything was fine in their lives until the peaky fucking blinders waltzed into his shop. Not caring who they destroyed as long as they got their money, their rum, or their drugs.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #michael gray x female!reader #michael gray x reader #michael gray x y/n #michael gray #katiesfics #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x adopted daughter!reader

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Shall I Count the Ways: XXIV

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer are best friends. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, but neither of you know it nor decide to tell the other about their feelings. All the love is there, just hidden in the things you say and the things you do with one another.

A/N: From the this 50 Ways to Say I Love You list, the fics take place in no particular order

Series Masterlist

24. “I won’t admit that I missed you”

You awaited at the terminal, watching as several people got off the plane. You went on your tippy toes trying your best to get a view of the passengers coming towards the on waiting group of people. 

Then you spotted that all too familiar head of brown curly hair, “Speedy!” you wave your arms over your head catching his attention. You see that as soon as his eyes set on you, they lighten up. 

He shifts his duffle on his shoulder and makes his way to you, excusing himself as he squeezes through reuniting couples, friends, and families, “Hey, bubs!” his arms wrapped you giving you a tight hug. 

“Did ya miss me?” you ask teasingly, nudging his shoulder with your hand. 

He shrugs, “Eh.”

You snort, “Fine, I won’t admit that I missed you, then.” you stick your nose up in the air and began walking away. 

Spencer chuckled, rushing after you and hugging you from behind, “You know I missed you.”

“Of course you did,” you reach behind and ruffle his hair, “Come on. Let’s get some lunch and you can tell me how your mom’s doing!” you grab his hand and practically drag him back to your car, and throughout that time his hand was in yours, he felt like you two were really together. 

______________

Spencer pauses from eating to watch you happily dig into your plate of red curry. Whenever you’re excited to eat, you do a little happy dance, which always brings a smile to his face. 

You moan when you take the first bite, “I’ve been craving this ever since you left for Vegas.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “You hadn’t gone here since I left?” You shook your head and he asked, “Why?”

You shrugged, “I guess it didn’t feel right. This is one of our spots, plus it’d just make me miss you more if I came here alone.” you shook your head and took a sip of your thai tea, “But anyway, how’s your mom?”

“Still the same. She asked about you, actually. She wanted me to tell you that she hopes you’re doing well.”

You placed your hands on your chest, “Aaawww. I love Diane so much! She’s a hoot!”

“A hoot?”

“Oh, I’ve gotten a regular, this older guy in his sixties always on the look out for something pretty to give to his wife. Anyway, whenever he finds something he says, ‘Laurel will get a hoot outta this!’“ you pause to giggle, “I guess he’s rubbing off on me. Sweet guy, very kind. I think you’d be like him when you grow old.”

Spencer scrunches up his nose in confusion, “You’d think I’d frequent a vintage, antique shop searching for gifts for my wife?”

“Sorta? Moreso, books. But you dress like him,” you use your spoon to point at his sweater vest and he pouts, “It’s cute though.” 

Cute. She thinks you’re cute. Spencer blushes, and shyly smiles at you, “Thanks. Glad to know that my elderly fashion sense appeals to you.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “Everything about you appeals to me, Spencer. If not, we wouldn’t be friends! Anyway, was Janice there? Did she tell you any hot goss?”

You leaned in excitedly as Spencer broke out into a grin. There was this elderly woman at the home, Janice, and she was very nosey, always getting into people’s business, eavesdropping. She loved to share what she found out even though she wasn’t supposed to be sharing any of the details. And you? Well, you’re just as bad as Janice, you live for the drama, and Spencer found that very amusing. 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

[spacecadet-sims]

Hi, friends!

I’ve decided to create an offshoot of a specific fruit based legacy challenge. There was some problematic happenings within the simblr community, and the creator has since left, and their legacy challenge was deleted with their blog.

@tangymagnolia​ had the wonderful idea of revamping the challenge so that my legacy, and others’ legacies, and our hard work in developing them, wouldn’t be for naught. Luckily, I had written down the other legacy challenge, so I’ll be able to avoid directly copying generations.

This is not a copy of the original challenge, but an inspiration from it. If you were previously participating in that challenge, please take a gander at this one below the cut.

The challenge won’t be just around fruit, but everything will be edible in some way. I expanded the challenges to what you may find inside a cornucopia, and from what I’ve found, some cornucopias are more diverse than others, so I smashed them all together.

Feel free to tag me in your posts so I can follow along with your challenge!

Growing up, you found yourself to be equally liked and disliked by others. You had some close friends, but you also had some enemies. You felt misunderstood by your parents, but you knew they tried. After your 18th birthday, you decided to leave your old life behind and start anew somewhere else. You decided early on that you wanted to work in law, but how will you achieve your goals? Will you start from the bottom as a peon, or will you go to university to bypass it?

Generation 1 Goals:

○ Start a new save with a YA sim. Can be any gender, ethnicity, aesthetic, etc    ○ Must have the Renaissance Sim aspiration    ○ Must have the Bookworm and Ambitious traits, but can have any trait ○ Have at least 2 close friends ○ Have at least 2 disliked sims or enemies ○ If you’re going to university, major in a degree that goes toward the law career    ○ Must live in a dorm    ○ Have at least 1 party at your dorm    ○ Must be friends with at least half of your roommates (you do not have to be    enemies with the other half)    ○ Try and keep your GPA 3.0 and over, but as long as you get your degree, it’s no big deal ○ If not going to university, join the law career ○ Can join either branch (judge or private attorney)    ○ Must get to level 10 in your career ○ Get married before your birthday ○ Have at least 2 children ○ Have at least 1 hobby and max the skill ○ Have an okay relationship with your children, but not great

Your parents were hardworking busybodies, traits that would normally be idolized, but you felt a little neglected. Your relationship with your parents wasn’t horrible, and you didn’t necessarily want for anything, but you don’t feel like you have a connection to your parents. They missed key moments in your life: school plays, dance recitals, science fairs. You decided that wasn’t the type of parent you wanted to be. You do your best to remain sweet, kind, and fun.

Generation 2 Goals:

○ Must have the Super Parent aspiration ○ Must have the Family-Oriented, Cheerful, and Outgoing traits ○ Cannot have a “regular” job    ○ Must make your living in any of the freelance careers    ○ Spouse my have a “regular” job ○ Marry your high school sweetheart ○ Must have at least 3 children    ○ Must have at least 1 set of multiples    ○ Be good friends with all of your children    ○ Help your children max out their toddler traits    ○ Help your children complete their childhood aspirations    ○ All children must go to college ○ Must throw birthday parties for everyone ○ Must max out the cooking skill ○ Must max out the baking skill ○ Must max out the parenting skill ○ Must have 3 hobbies    ○ Must max at least 1 of these skills

Your parents were doting and pushed you to pursue your dreams. You love them, but you’re finally ready to be out on your own. Growing up, you found it sometimes difficult to make friends, especially if people didn’t take the time to get to know you. You’re finding that experience to be exemplified now that you’re out of high school.

Generation 3 Goals:

○  Must have the Computer Whiz aspiration ○ Must have the Gloomy, Clumsy, and Loner traits ○ Must go to college    ○ Must live in a dorm    ○ Must try and make friends       ○ Can only have up to 5 good friends       ○ Can have as many acquaintances or enemies as you want    ○ Must be on the eSports team    ○ Major in anything EXCEPT Computer Science ○ Once out of school, must join the Tech Guru career and follow the eSports branch ○ Marry your first significant other, but get divorced before your birthday ○ Do not marry again until Adulthood ○ Have 1 child OR 1 set of multiples per spouse ○ Must max the Programming skill ○ Must max the Video Gaming skill ○ Must max 1 more skill of your choice

Unlike your parent, you’re very charismatic. Everyone likes you, and you use that to your advantage. You’re popular, desired, and everyone wants to be your best friend. You find it very easy to succeed in whatever you do, especially in your romantic conquests. You can’t be tied to one partner.

Generation 4 Goals:

○ Must have the Serial Romantic aspiration ○ Must have the Self-Assured, Romantic, and Outgoing traits ○ Does not have to go to college, but can if you want    ○ If you do send this sim to college, they have to major in Drama    ○ Must join the cheerleading squad ○ Must be in the Drama Club during school ○ Must maintain a good reputation ○ Must reach the height of celebrity status ○ Get to level ten of the Acting career ○ Max out the acting skill ○ Max out the media production skill ○ Max out the charisma skill ○ Marry and divorce at least 5 sims ○ Do not marry after your 5th divorce    ○ You may continue to have serious partners afterward, but you can’t marry them ○ Have at least 1 pregnancy per spouse    ○ No limit on children    ○ 1 pregnancy does not necessarily equal 1 child ○ Have a relatively close relationship with all of your children, but do not be best friends ○ Live in a mansion with hired help

You watched your parent seemingly struggle through love, and you decided that you didn’t want that. You didn’t want the fame or the spotlight, and you definitely didn’t want multiple divorces under your belt. You shared your parent’s ambition, however, and dedicated your passion to helping people. With the help of your parent’s wealth, you were able to get a great education.

Generation 5 Goals:

○ Must have the Academic aspiration ○ Must have the Genius, Unflirty, and Noncommittal traits ○ Must go to college    ○ Must major in Biology    ○ Must join The Brainiacs or the Debate Guild    ○ GPA must be as highest as possible at graduation ○ Reach the top of the Doctor career    ○ Must go to work with them at least half of the time ○ Master the logic skill ○ Master the wellness skill ○ Master the handiness skill ○ Master 2 other skills ○ Never marry ○ Adopt at least 2 children ○ Can have any number of biological children, if desired

Your parent wanted you to follow in their footsteps, and... you are. Just not in the way they expected. You’ve always had a deep compassion for animals. You love cuddly animals and the not so cuddly ones. You decide to dedicated your life to them.

Generation 6 Goals:

○ Must have the Friend of the Animals trait ○ Can have any traits as long as you have one or both of the following:    ○ Cat Lover or Dog Lover ○ You don’t have to go to college, but you can    ○ If you do, major in Biology or Communications ○ Own your own veterinary clinic    ○ Maintain 5 stars ○ Have at least 1 large breed dog ○ Have at least 1 small breed dog ○ Have at least 1 cat ○ Have at least 1 small, caged animal ○ Have at least 2 of the following “pets”    ○ Bees    ○ Bugs (in the farm or otherwise)    ○ Fish    ○ Frogs ○ Master the logic skill ○ Master the pet training skill ○ Master the veterinarian skill ○ Master at least 1 other skill ○ Marry whenever you’re ready ○ Have at least 3 children ○ Have great relationships with your pets ○ Have great relationships with your children

Inspired by your parents, you lived a life of wonder and experimentation. You’re polite, but like to keep to yourself. You’ve studied and researched and you know there’s more to life than this. What else is out there? Will you be able to discover something new and exciting?

Generation 7 Goals:

○ Must have the Nerd Brain aspiration ○ Must have the Geek, Paranoid, and Perfectionist traits ○ Must go to college and major in Physics    ○ Join the Bot Savants    ○ Build a Servo    ○ (Optional) Join the Secret Society ○ Reach the top of the Scientist career ○ Must live in Oasis Springs ○ Must travel to Sixam at least once ○ Have 4 children ○ Marry another scientist OR an alien ○ Master the robotics skill ○ Master the rocket science skill ○ Master the logic skill ○ Master the handiness skill

You are the apple of your parents’ eyes. You always do what’s right. You were always kind, polite, and helpful. You loved doting on your friends and family, and you knew that you wanted to devote your time to taking care of others.

Generation 8 Goals:

○ Must have the Successful Lineage OR Big Happy Family aspiration ○ Must have the Family-Oriented, Neat, and Goofball traits ○ You do not have to go to college    ○ If you do, major in Psychology ○ Join the Education career and follow the Professor branch ○ Have no less than 6 children ○ Marry as a YA ○ Master the parenting skill ○ Master the gourmet cooking skill ○ Master charisma skill ○ Cook at least 1 meal per day for your family ○ Help your children with their homework ○ Have at least 1 family pet ○ Have a house with a white picket fence ○ Have at least 2 hobbies ○ Have good relationships with your children, except the gen 9 heir

You’re not like your parents. You’re not like your siblings. You defy authority and hate the status quo.You’re not sweet and darling and you won’t be held back by what’s expected of you. You’re going to make yourself known. You’re going to be infamous.

Generation 9 Goals:

○ Must have the Public Enemy aspiration ○ Must have the Evil, Mean, and Kleptomanic traits ○ Must go to college and major in Villany ○ Join the Criminal career and follow the Boss branch ○ Marry another criminal    ○ Cheat on your spouse at least once ○ Have 1 child ○ Have a strained relationship with your family growing up    ○ Do not speak to your parents after you age into a YA    ○ Do not speak to your siblings after you age into a YA UNLESS they also have a negative trait ○ Do not help your child max traits ○ Do not help your child with homework ○ Be the head of a club    ○ Club must be mean in nature ○ Have as many enemies as possible ○ Maintain a bad reputation ○ Master the mischeif skill

You’re not like your parents. You don’t want to cause trouble, and you’d rather not stand out in the way they’d like you to. You’re shy, reserved, and a little rough around the edges. You parents offered you no structure or stability in your life, and you’re craving safety.

Generation 10 Goals:

○ Must have the Bodybuilder aspiration ○ Must have the Active, Hot-Headed, and Bro traits ○ You tried to do well in school, but sometimes you’d forget to do your homework    ○ Do not do any extra credit assignments ○ Join the Military immediately after high school    ○ Follow either branch ○ Do not speak to your parents after aging to YA ○ Must live in Strangerville    ○ Can complete the Strangerville storyline, but it’s not required ○ Marry someone in the military    ○ Marry quickly after meeting    ○ Have at least 1 child before wedlock ○ Have 4 children ○ Strongly encourage success in your children ○ Be strict with your children ○ Master the wellness skill ○ Master the fitness skill ○ Master the bowling or dancing skill

Your childhood was scheduled to a T. You had little room for failure, and tried your best to make your parents proud. But, deep down, you wanted to be free. You wanted to feel the wind in your hair and you wanted to explore the beauty that life has to offer.

Generation 11 Goals:

○ Must have the Eco Innovator OR Outdoor Enthusiast aspiration ○ Must have the Loves Outdoors and Green Fiend traits    ○ Third trait is up to you ○ Must be in the scouts while growing up ○ Must have a part-time job as a teen ○ Must go to college    ○ Must join the soccer team    ○ Must live in a dorm ○ You have two options for careers:    ○ If you want to be a Conservationist, major in Biology or Economics       ○ Biology leads to the Marine Biologist branch       ○ Economics leads to the Environmental Manager branch       ○ Must live in Sulani    ○ If you want to be a Civic Designer, major in Communications or Physics       ○ Communications leads to the Civic Planner branch       ○ Physics leads to the Green Technician branch       ○ Must live in Evergreen Harbor ○ Go camping at least 4 times ○ Master the gardening skill    ○ Have a vegetable garden with at least 3 different vegetables    ○ Have a fruit garden with at least 3 different fruits    ○ Have an herb garden with at least 3 different herbs    ○ Have a flower garden with at least 3 different flowers ○ Master the fishing skill ○ Master the herbalism skill ○ Master the wellness skill ○ Master the flower arranging skill ○ Have 5 children ○ Number of marriages and parents to your children are up to you

You bring sunshine to the lives of everyone who surrounds you. You look back at your family tree and blossom under all of the lessons you’ve learned from their lives. You’re bright and sunny. You want to enjoy an easy life doing something you love while surrounded by those you love.

Generation 12 Goals:

○ Must have one of the creativity based aspirations    ○ Painter Extraordinaire, Musical Genius, Bestselling Author, or Master Maker ○ Must have the Creative trait and at least one of the following traits:    ○ Art Lover, Bookworm, Maker, Music Lover, or Perfectionist    ○ If you have a free third trait, you may freely pick one ○ You do not have to go to college    ○ If you do, major in Art History, Communications, Fine Art, or Language and Literature    ○ Join the Art Society, if you go to University of Britechester ○ Master the comedy skill ○ Master the fabrication skill ○ Master at least 2 other creative skills ○ Have as many children as you want ○ Have as many spouses as you want ○ Must live in San Myshuno ○ Join any creative career

#ts4 #ts4 legacy challenge #ts4 challenge #ts4 challenges #cornucopia legacy challenge #dagdagsims #i hope you like this it took me two days to do lmao #this is what i'll be shifting the persopoulos family to after starting with odette's children

[pleasejustfuckinghugme]

Forever

episode three (word count: 1,981)

jacobs!oc x fezco

warnings: references to drugs, language, sexual references, typos and mediocre writing

wowowow thank you so much for all of the support. it may not seem like a lot but i really didn’t expect anyone to find my work so this is pretty fucking cool. i’m sorry for going on a bit of a hiatus, but i hope you enjoy this chapter. literally thank you so so much for reading. this is super cool

Nancy had created a habit of meeting with Fez at his gas station. He would always be sitting in the same chair right outside. The first time she had come to see him, she plopped down on the ground beside him and gave him a small smile.

“I can go get you a chair if ya want,” he had told her, laughing.

She looked down, embarrassed but still shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

He scoffed at that. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He stood and got up before turning to her again. “What kinda candy you like?”

“M&Ms?” she replied.

“Regular?”

“Sure.”

He came back with a camping chair and sat it next to his own before tossing M&Ms her way. They sat quietly for a moment, Nancy eating her candy, before Fez finally spoke.

“How is Rue?”

“She’s good, yeah,” Nancy assured, nodding her head. “She’s spending a lot of time with Jules. They’re good for each other.”

“Word,” he commented, watching Nancy closely.

Nancy smiled, giggling to herself. “Yeah, but Rue has been complaining about how addicted to Jules has been to her phone,” she snorted. “I swear to God, she sounds like my dad.” She looked up at Fez, who was staring right back at her. He chuckled softly. 

“It’s just fucking weird though,” Nancy continued. “My brother’s been texting someone nonstop all week. Maddy even asked me about it.”

“They datin’ right?”

“Yeah,” Nancy sighed. “I mean, I had no idea what to tell her. But Kat has been on her phone nonstop too.”

“She came in ta talk ta Ash today,” Fez told her. Nancy’s head perked up in surprise.

“Really? Why?”

Fezco shrugged. “Came in askin’ about Bitcoin.”

“Bitcoin?” Nancy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why was she asking Ashtray about Bitcoin?”

“I don’t know,” he replied coolly. “But we told her we’d help her with everythin’ ‘cept human trafficking.”

Nancy snorted, “Well of course she’s not messing with human trafficking.”

“Aye we didn’t know,” he defended himself. “We was jus’ makin’ sure.”

They both smiled at each other and laughed. They talked for the rest of the evening before Nancy had to go home for dinner. They texted all that night, talking about everything from TV shows to Nancy’s weird family drama. But even when she had seen his name pop up so many times before, she still felt butterflies in her stomach when he texted her goodnight.

A couple days later, Nancy was at Cassie’s house. She was there to help her pack for her weekend in college with Mckay, but had ended up at the foot of Lexi’s bed, helping her with homework. Maddy and Cassie were on one side of the room, debating on what Cassie should wear, while Kat sat on the loveseat across from Lexi and Nancy, her face buried in her phone.

A soft scoff from Kat caused Lexi to speak up. “What are you looking at?” she asked. Curiosity filled both of the girls’ eyes.

“Nothing. Just this, um, article,” Kat stuttered.

Nancy eyed her suspiciously while Lexi responded, “About what?”

“Um… you know, like, uh…” she paused for a moment. “The Holocaust.”

“Oh. Cool,” Lexi replied, not convinced. She and Nancy looked at each other before Nancy turned back to Kat.

“Had to think about that one, didn’t you?” she teased, a soft smile on her face.

Kat rolled her eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

Nancy turned back to Lexi and whispered, “Do you think she’s got a secret boyfriend?”

“It’s got to be that cute boy in her chemistry class, right?” Lexi replied.

“I can hear you, you know?” Kat called, before the three broke into laughter, Nancy mockingly holding up her hands in defense.

“Lex? Nance?” Cassie called, grabbing the two’s attention. She held up a blue blouse in front of her, a questioning look on her face.

“It’s cute,” Lexi nodded, before turning back to her work.

“And Mckay’s gonna love it,” Nancy confirmed, wiggling her eyebrows.

Maddy sighed, “I wish I had your collarbones.”

The door opened then, revealing Cassie’s mom. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you,” she deadpanned, looking at her daughter with pursed lips.

“Yeah, Cassie. Don’t get pregnant,” Kat joked, looking up at the girl.

“That’s not funny, Kat,” her mom replied, waltzing in the room with a glass of wine in hand. “But don’t you dare get pregnant.”

“Relax, mom. He has a roommate,” Cassie smirked, looking at her mom with knowing eyes. 

As Nancy listened to Cassie’s mom lay out all of her rules for the night, she couldn’t help but wish she had a relationship like that with her mother. She knew that their relationship wasn’t the best, not by a long run, but it still seemed better than the stark silence between Nancy and her mom. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had spoken to her mom.

When Mckay had finally arrived, the four girls and Cassie’s mom followed her out the front door.

“No funny business, Christopher!” her mother called. Meanwhile, Nancy and Lexi laughed silently at Maddy and Kat as they reenacted what would probably be Cassie and Mckay that night.

The next day Nancy went with Kat to Fez’s gas station so that Kat could talk to Ashtray. Fezco sat outside, as usual, and smiled at her as they walked up.

“What’s up?” Kat said coolly, before walking into the store.

“What’s up, Kat?” he replied, watching her as she walked by.

Nancy smiled and waved after Kat had gone inside.

“Hey,” Fez said softly, standing up beside her.

She looked up at him. “Hi.”

“You know what she’s up to?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“No idea,” Nancy laughed. “But it was an excuse to come see you. How’s business?” she teased.

He chuckled, “Slow.”

A comfortable silence came over them before he spoke again, prompting a smile to take over Nancy’s face and butterflies to flood into her stomach. “You wanna come to my place tomorrow? Since you know where it is?”

And that’s exactly where she found herself the next day after school. They had spent most of the afternoon on his couch, watching a movie and snacking on some popcorn he had made. They were laying together on the couch, and when the movie ended they both looked at each other. It was then when Nancy realized how close they really were.

“You liked it?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

“Of course,” she smirked. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

She saw his eyes flicker down to her lips, and she smiled. As they leaned closer to each other, Nancy's heart was beating in her chest so hard she could hear it too. She silently hoped that he couldn’t, heat flooding her cheeks. He had placed his hand gently on her waist, and just as their noses touched, there was banging on the door. They jumped away from each other, startled by the sudden noise.

Fezco cursed under his breath, letting out a quick apology. “Stay there,” he told her, before walking to the door. “Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s me. Open the door.” Rue’s voice was muffled, but Nancy recognized it, her eyes widening. Fezco looked at her for a moment before swinging the door open.

“Not today, Rue. Sorry,” Nancy heard him say.

“Come on, man. Don’t be a dick,” Rue scoffed, causing Nancy’s eyebrows to furrow, confused.

“Nah, I’m serious. You can’t come in.”

“Look, man. All I-- all I need is just, like, a few OCs,” she stuttered.

“Sorry. I can’t help y--”

“Fez!” she interrupted. “Fez, I’ve had a really fucked up day, alright? It’s been a really really fucked up day, okay? So I need you to open up the door for me, okay? Can you open the door? Please?”

“I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, Rue,” Fez said softly.

Nancy stood up from the couch and began to quietly make her way around it.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “But you can’t be comin’ over here no more. Jus’ go home.” He backed away and put his hand on the door.

“Don’t!” Rue began to yell. “Fez! Don’t close the d--Fuck!”

He shut the door, and there was another loud bang.

“Fez! Open the fucking door please!” Rue yelled from the other side. “I’m begging you! Just open the door!”

Nancy watched as Fez leaned his forehead against the door. She slowly walked towards him.

“Fez! You’re full of shit, man,” Rue accused. “You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers? And now all the sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground?”

He turned to Nancy with tired eyes. She came closer to him, a look of concern washed over her face. He leaned up against the door, continuing to listen to Rue’s words.

“You’re a fucking drop-out drug dealer!” she screamed, causing Nancy to shake her head. “You know that? You’re a fucking drop-out drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells!”

Nancy was in front of him now, and she grabbed his arm gently, looking deep into his eyes. He looked at her too, and she shook her head, trying to tell him Rue’s words weren’t true. He turned away.

“Open the door!” Rue screamed, banging on the door. Nancy jumped back, startled, but Fezco stayed still. “Fuck you!” Rue continued. “Fuck you, Fez! Okay? Are you doing this because you care about me? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have sold me the fucking drugs in the first place! But you did! You fucking did! So open the goddamn door!” She hit it again. “Open the door!”

Fezco leaned off of the door and walked forward for a moment before turning around. “I can’t do it, Rue. I’m sorry,” he called, but she continued to scream at him from the other side. He glanced at Nancy, who was trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to escape. “Sorry,” he whispered quietly to the door, before walking over to Nancy.

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You should go,” he said quietly. Rue’s cries still flooded the room. 

Nancy shook her head violently. “You know it’s not true, right? What she’s saying?”

He frowned and looked down at the ground, “It is.”

 “No,” Nancy said firmly. “It’s not she’s just trying to make you feel bad so you’ll--”

“Nancy, go. Now,” he interrupted her, looking straight into her eyes again. “Leave.”

Nancy looked at him, hurt shining in her eyes before she walked away and grabbed her backpack. She quickly made her way to the door, vigorously wiping the tears off her face. Without looking at Fezco, she swung the front door open and saw Rue, who stood at the door, completely broken.

“What are you doing here?” the frizzy-haired girl sobbed. 

Nancy said nothing as she squeezed through the door, making sure Rue wouldn’t be able to get inside. She looked at Rue with wide eyes before stuttering, “I-- I don’t--”

“Were you fucking him?” Rue’s cruel words smacked Nancy in the face.

“No,” Nancy snapped. “That’s a really fucked up thing to say.”

“You know this is your fault too?” Rue continued. “You never did anything to help me before I went to rehab.”

Nancy shook her head, ashamed. “Rue I--”

“And what are you doing now, huh?”

Nancy’s eyes burned viciously, and tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. She brushed past the girl and climbed onto her bike. 

“You’re sorry?” she heard Rue yell.. “Well that’s just great! You hear that Fez? Nancy said she’s fucking sorry!”

And as Nancy sped away on her bike, away from the man who she had started to truly care about a lot, she hoped he knew that she really was sorry.

#fezco #fezco euphoria #fezco fanfic #fezco-euphoria #fezco x oc #nate jacobs euphoria #nate jacobs #Rue Bennett #rue bennet euphoria #my OC

[laddieseddiemunster]

Could I please have a smidgen of Star dating the (she/they) reader but still being cool with the boys and maybe you and Star kinda co-parent Laddie headcannons? Cuz lets be real, he's a little kid and he still prolly needs someone to tie his shoes when he wakes up at night 😞👉👈 if not that's literally okay, how ya doin?

Your wish is my command :)

and I’m doing well! how about you?

Star x Fem!Reader Co-Parenting With Laddie

when you first approached star, you assumed laddie was her brother. she was quick to let you know that he wasn’t, and that they had no relation. just friends. when star first introduced you to laddie he immediately brought you into a hug. he looked up resting his chin on your stomach and said “hi! i’m laddie! what’s your name?”

as time went on you became a third parental figure to laddie. at first the boys considered killing you, but soon realized that that was out of the question. laddie adored you and he’d be heartbroken. obviously so would star, but David originally wanted to kill you because you took star away from him. Now he can’t. So it’s safe to say david isn’t a big fan of your addition to the family.

even with the times laddie had no problem with you and star dating. you made star happy and you made him happy, so he had no reason to complain. when you and star go on dates, dwayne watches laddie so he doesn’t interfere with your alone time with star. laddie usually catches on. with a small cheeky smile on his face he’ll walk away with dwayne and say “have funnnn.” laddie’s not dumb. he knows what a ‘date’ means.

you found out their little vampire secret from laddie. it was his first time spending the night over at your place and once it was midnight you noticed laddie was not tired at all. in fact, he didn’t even yawn until it was six or seven in the morning. you ended up asking star why laddie wasn’t tired and she explained to you the situation. she felt terrible about not telling you before, and she was surprised when you understood. it made sense to you. the boys only come out at night, they stay away from mirrors, and at a specific time of the night they leave to do...something.

sure, laddie is a great little kid, but he can be a trouble maker. you lost count on how many times laddie has ran into where you work with one of the boys chasing after him because he stole one of their motorcycle keys (it would be dwayne’s, paul’s, or marko’s cause laddie wouldn’t dare steal david’s). “[name]! help me!” he yells as he’s running as fast as he could away from whoever’s chasing him. they’ve gotten kicked out so many times that they mine as well be banned from where you work.

laddie also has the tendency to sneak into your house at random times. you have no clue how he gets in without a key, but he does. one time he snuck in and saw you and star asleep in your bed, and he climbed on and slept in between both of you. neither of you knew when or how he got in but you didn’t complain.

besides dwayne, you and star are the only ones who know how to cook, and cook well. the boys don’t have a kitchen so they can’t really eat anything healthy. laddie doesn’t remember the last time he had something other than fast food. the only time you let the boys use your kitchen was when your house/apartment almost burnt down. you learned that paul and marko can’t be trusted with your oven. instead, you decided to make them all dinner. laddie had missed his biological mother’s cooking, but your cooking reminded him of it. he even preferred it over eating out.

another thing to realized was laddie didn’t have a lot of toys. all he had was a teddy bear that his mother gave him. so you decided to take him to a toy store with star. you had just gotten a bonus from your job and you chose to spend the money on toys for the boy. you told him that he could get five toys, and it didn’t matter what they were. unfortunately for you, laddie is a smart kid, and you ended up spending almost 400 dollars. there was one toy which was a robot that needed to be plugged in, and he was devastated when star told him they had no where to plug it in at the cave. luckily, you told him he could play with it whenever he came to visit your place, and he was happy again.

laddie loves it when you get him new clothes. he’s been wearing the same clothes for a while and he’s even getting sick of them. you and star will buy him a whole new wardrobe and he’ll love it, but he’ll still put on his leather jacket over his new shirts because the boys gave it to him. laddie loves pajamas more than anything since it’s uncomfortable sleeping in his regular clothes along with the jacket.

going back to laddie’s teddy bear he cannot sleep without it. it’s the only object that he has left from his mother and it means a lot to him. one time paul was doing his usual tickle attack on laddie and to distract paul he grabbed his teddy bear and started to hit paul with it, but paul accidentally grabbed the bear too hard and one of its arms slightly ripped. laddie had started to cry and paul didn’t know what to do. luckily, star knew how to sew, so laddie sat in your lap and watched as she fixed the bears arm. when the bear was good as new laddie hugged star as a thank you, and he didn’t leave her side for the rest of the night.

star loves laddie, and she isn’t afraid to stand up for him. if some older kid picks on laddie she will tell them off. laddie is the baby of the group and no one hurts him and gets away with it. if you and star gang up on a bully then watch out. david doesn’t give laddie too much attention, but when laddie gets picked on he’ll give the bully a dirty look. dwayne just takes laddie out of the situation, and will buy him ice cream to make him feel better. paul will tell the bully to back off, and he’ll take laddie away like dwayne. marko doenst care if it’s a little kid. his fists are ready to punch anyone who makes fun of laddie. it’s safe to say that anyone who picks on laddie mysteriously disappears. if you ask what happened the boys will just change the subject.

david at first didnt like you for taking star away when he was trying to win her over. he slowly started to accept you when he realized that you made star happier than he ever did. once he got to know you he started to notice that you weren’t bad to be around. you were a nice addition to the group even if he didn’t like you at first.

dwayne had zero problem with you. the fact that you took care of laddie when he couldn’t, or just whenever you had the time to was enough to win his trust. occasionally you both will talk while taking care of laddie. there isn’t much communication between you two, but there isn’t any drama either.

paul mainly likes you because you’re really nice to laddie and everyone in the group. paul likes to mess with you, but that’s just the way he is with friends. he’ll make fun of you and star for your relationship, but he actually really ships you guys. he just won’t admit to it. paul is a trouble maker, so i wouldn’t suggest riding on the back of his motorcycle.

marko never really had a problem with you. he never wanted to kill you especially since you’re friendly to laddie. when he talks to you he usually falls in the same category as paul. he likes to mess with you. but, at times he’s calm and easy to talk to and befriend. he’s also pretty protective. he’d beat someone up for you.

#the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys star #jami gertz #the lost boys 1987 #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys

[akwardlyuncool]

Moonshot (2022) - Review

Far into the future, the billionaires have made Mars habitable and if you are smart enough or wealthy enough, you too can travel outside of earth’s boarders. Sophie (Lana Condor) is one of the smart ones, however Sophie is still perched on the mainland, for fear of space travel. Sophie’s boyfriend and his family who’ve claimed her as their own, have a jobs on Mars, so they’re doing the long distance thing. On the other end you have Walt (Cole Sprouse), someone who’s applied for the Mars program about 37 times and just can’t see to make the cut, even though it’s his one BIG dream. When the opportunity strikes for Sophie to challenge her fears and for Walt to chase several of his dreams, Walt becomes a stowaway on the rocket to Mars and in Sophie’s life.

When I first heard about this movie, I thought it was cute and really wanted to see it. I think we’re all desiring cute, regular romantic comedy/drama content that isn’t hyper-sexualized or maybe that’s just me, but either way I was little excited to see it. Everyone said they didn’t want to watch a romantic movie, however this is what we ended up putting on for movie night and I think we all had a fairly decent time.

Now I’m not gonna lie, I went through this whole movie thinking that Cole was Dylan (his twin brother) and that this was, in my eyes, Dylan’s comeback in the romantic movie space. My nephew totally schooled me on that one. That being said, I thought Cole gave off total Dylan vibes, you know something a little more lighthearted. (I also think I can only make that comparison because I haven’t seen many of Dylan’s Drama work. At the most maybe 2 or 3.) 

The movie was just light and nice and not too much, like everything else seems to be these days. Granted, they could have went a little deeper into the dig of billionaires and their heartless and gross desire to leave earth because they’ve already destroyed it, but that’s just me being me. Also maybe I happened to  like it more than some others because I wasn’t expecting it to be this big thing. Many people are calling it fine, which is fair, I just think they wanted something that they knew they weren’t gonna get to begin with. Moonshot falls right in line with all the other Netflix/Hulu “YA” movies in this category and I think you’ll like it if you also liked them.

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Note: I will say though that you shouldn’t set your whole life trajectory based on someone you met for a night. Reel it back in, just a little bit.

#Movie Blurbs #Movie Reviews #Moonshot #Lana Condor #Cole Sprouse #Zach Braff #Mason Gooding #Emily Rudd #Christine Adams #Michelle Buteau #Sunita Deshpande #Peter Woodward #Cameron Esposito #Movies