#but I guess that classic maid dress is classic
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The poll ended up being much closer than I thought! Winning by a meagre 50.9-49.1 is the bunny suits! Rent them for a party and hopefully you will get what you paid for >.<
#dream fanart#technoblade fanart#rivalsduo#rivalsblr#rainystressedart#I thought with how thirsty the reblog are#that the bunny suit would have won by a landslide#but I guess that classic maid dress is classic#until next time
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i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.
qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).
as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.
"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."
you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.
you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.
it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.
when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.
it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.
savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.
and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.
it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.
the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.
you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.
what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?
as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?
savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.
unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.
you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.
it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.
it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.
it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.
until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.
he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.
when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.
when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."
it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.
he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.
he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.
you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.
little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.
"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.
you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.
"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.
so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.
"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."
so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -
it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.
so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.
you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.
it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.
you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.
now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.
this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.
you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.
she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.
"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.
it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.
"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."
"what, no hug for me, eh?"
you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.
"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.
nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.
"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.
"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."
you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.
"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."
lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."
she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.
"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.
"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.
he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.
"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.
he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."
you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.
out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.
even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.
"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.
his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.
if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.
now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.
coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.
and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.
you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.
the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.
you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.
what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!
he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.
"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"
and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.
of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.
"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"
you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.
how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.
"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."
there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.
you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.
eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.
"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"
"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."
"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"
nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.
"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."
you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."
"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"
lexi whistled.
"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.
"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.
he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."
the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.
you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.
"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"
"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.
"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.
you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.
"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.
terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.
quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.
jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."
quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.
something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.
as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.
but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.
you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.
"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."
it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."
you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?
lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"
"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."
a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.
"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"
"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.
it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.
he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"
he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.
"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.
his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.
"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"
quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.
this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.
"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.
"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.
and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.
still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.
you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.
the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.
at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.
the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.
he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.
his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."
you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.
the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.
you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"
his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."
"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."
his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"
you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."
matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.
a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.
"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.
you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.
"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.
"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.
"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."
quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.
a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.
matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.
"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.
he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.
when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"
he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."
you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.
"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.
"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"
he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.
"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."
this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"
you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?
you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.
"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."
this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"
you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.
his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.
"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"
"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.
"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."
your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"
his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?
it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?
he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.
making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.
"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.
"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.
your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.
and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.
you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.
and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.
it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.
this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.
it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.
"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."
you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"
lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.
once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.
sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.
"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.
you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.
he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.
you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"
he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."
you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"
he scoffed. "who do you think?"
you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.
it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.
"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.
the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.
you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?
jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."
"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."
lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.
you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.
"where're you going?" luke asked you.
"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.
the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.
you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.
"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.
"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."
"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.
"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"
"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.
"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.
"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.
you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."
"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.
"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."
he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.
you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.
"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.
"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.
"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.
you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.
fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.
"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.
"a clown," you whispered back.
matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"
and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.
what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?
"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."
"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."
"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.
because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.
"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.
sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.
he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.
because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.
"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.
matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.
you were silent for a moment, blinking.
nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."
"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.
nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"
"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.
the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.
the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.
you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."
her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.
you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.
still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.
it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.
the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.
you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."
as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.
you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.
you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.
"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.
you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.
he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.
you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.
you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.
unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.
maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.
he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.
here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.
"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"
he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.
"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"
"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."
you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.
"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"
his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.
the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.
"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."
"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"
you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"
"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"
"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.
you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.
and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.
his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.
"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."
something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.
"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.
his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.
you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.
he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.
his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-
"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"
the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.
you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.
savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.
"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"
you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.
she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"
quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.
your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.
quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.
"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."
"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.
she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."
you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.
"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."
she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."
you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.
"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.
he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."
you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.
you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.
as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.
you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.
when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.
you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.
you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.
the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.
it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.
your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.
tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.
i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.
you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.
of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.
more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.
he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.
and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.
oh, how you wanted it to be different.
it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.
at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.
if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.
it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.
"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.
he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."
you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."
luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."
"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.
he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.
you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"
luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.
you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."
you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."
you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.
luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.
his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.
you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.
there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.
"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.
you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.
lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.
you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.
erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."
she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.
nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.
jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.
nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.
"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."
"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.
"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."
luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"
nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.
your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.
the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.
it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.
after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.
it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.
he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?
your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.
you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.
you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.
everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.
time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.
but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.
of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.
the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.
the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?
"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.
the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.
that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?
you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.
he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.
the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.
you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.
great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.
you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.
"jesus, doll, there you are."
your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?
your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.
it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.
this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.
he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"
you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.
"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.
he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"
"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"
"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.
"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"
his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.
"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.
your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."
"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.
you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.
"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.
you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?
"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.
he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"
your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.
both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.
you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.
"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."
you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.
his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.
"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.
you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.
you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.
he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.
"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.
what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.
he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.
it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.
the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.
how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.
you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.
that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.
but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.
but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.
at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.
the silence was so beautiful, for a while.
"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.
quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."
your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.
you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.
when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.
the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.
you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.
he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.
he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.
he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.
you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.
you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!
and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.
regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.
the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.
you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.
he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.
"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.
you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.
you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.
the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.
"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.
you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.
"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.
you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.
he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."
the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."
then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.
"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.
"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.
you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.
"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."
"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."
your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.
he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.
you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"
you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?
how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?
somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.
"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."
you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.
because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.
"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."
that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.
it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.
your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.
he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.
"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.
"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."
he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"
you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.
he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.
he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.
"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."
you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."
he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."
you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.
his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.
the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."
someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.
you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.
"don't be a brat," he ordered.
a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.
his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.
"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."
"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."
you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."
he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"
"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.
"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."
you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.
his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.
at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.
he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.
"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.
you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.
"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.
"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"
he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."
you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."
his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.
when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.
"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"
"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."
savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.
you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.
sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.
"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."
"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"
she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."
you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"
lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"
"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.
quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.
you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.
"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.
you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.
luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."
"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.
you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."
nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."
quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"
"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.
you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.
the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.
you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.
lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.
luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.
finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.
it was a beautiful ceremony.
the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.
you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.
"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.
he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."
you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.
when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.
"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.
"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."
you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"
you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.
he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.
it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.
and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.
fin.
#hockey#hockey smut#nhl#smut#jack hughes#jack hughes smut#nhl smut#quinn hughes#trevor zegras smut#jack hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes imagine#luke hughes#nico hischier#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk smut#matthew tkachuk#mackie samoskevich
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Trick-or-Treat Trip
Headcanons in which you go trick-or-treating in the human world with Lucifer, Mammon, Asmo, and Beel
Published: November 24, 2023
Words: 880 (205 per character save for Beel; his got a bit away from me)
Pages: 2.5 (0.7 per character)
Lucifer:
Neither of you know how you managed to convince him to go Trick-or-Treating with you. Let alone go up to the Human World to do it. But you did!
You spent the majority of Halloween day getting into your costume. Because Lucifer was coming, he had made sure that whatever you were going as would be one of the best. 'One of' because his costume- a Vampire one- would also be the best. It was something you couldn't deny after seeing it.
Before you left, you set up a candy bowl with the classic 'only take one' sign. And to make sure that other trick-or-treaters complied, he cast a mild curse on the bowl that would scare anyone who tried to take more.
The actual trick-or-treat trip was very fun. While Lucifer didn't (he refused to--) bring a candy bag of his own, it didn't matter. You were just glad he came, and glad the various people you visited gave you candy. You had gotten a pretty good haul by the end of the night, with the only 'bad' trick-or-treat-ee giving you money. Lucifer smiled as he imagined what Mammon's reaction would've been if something like that happened for him.
Mammon:
Free candy?! Sign him up! It doesn't matter if you asked him this a few days before Halloween, or a few weeks. He's going to demand that you summon him, so you two can go shopping for the best pair of costumes. If you do summon him, know that he'll refuse to leave until Halloween has passed. And that, unfortunately, won't happen, because Lucifer is going to come and drag him back to the Devildom in a few hours. Maybe several, if you can talk the first-born into it.
But don't worry! You can just summon Mammon again when Halloween actually comes. You'll spend the day watching horror movies-- something the beloved idiot suggested himself-- and getting dressed up in your costume(s).
He'll be so jumpy during the trick-or-treat trip. Every fake hand that jumps out of a candy bowl. Every person pretending to be a manikin. He'll even be scared of the kids screaming with joy! You laughing at him won't help; it'll only fluster him. But don't worry, all fear and embarrassment will leave him when you get to that one house that gives out crappy presents. A toothbrush?? Seriously?!
Asmodeus:
Isn't surprised that you invited him to come, but that doesn't make him any less excited. Similarly to Mammon, he's demanding you summon him, so you can go costume shopping together. But there's no way you guys are dressing as anything scary! Why? Because those costumes require masks, blood, atrocious makeup, and/or ugly outfits.
You summon him again the morning of Halloween, you guys spend a good few hours picking between the costumes you bought a few days prior. These consist of a nurse and doctor, a maid and master, and a princess and knight. (Can you guess who's who?) After choosing, you spend the rest of the day getting dressed up. When you're finally done, Asmo sets up a bucket of nail polish next to your bucket of candy. He's got a pretty sign for it two, covered in glitter and hearts, asking for only one to be taken.
He isn't jumpy like Mammon when he gets jumpscared, but he'll still jump into your arms. He, of course, preens from any compliments he gets, and always tries fishing for more. Gets so salty at any crappy treat-givers, and will definitely use his charm on them.
Beelzebub:
A night of constant candy? With you? That sounds like paradise to him. You're gonna have to remind him to get a costume. And you're probably gonna have to do it a couple times, because every time he goes shopping for one, he gets distracted by food sales. But don't worry, he'll manage to hold off his hunger when you tell him that only people in costumes get candy.
The day of Halloween, it doesn't take him long to get into his werewolf costume. So, depending on what you're going as, and how many details there are, he'll probably be waiting for you to finish. He could help you if you want? If not, then he'll be munching away on the bags of candy you bought for him. And on that note, you're gonna have to command him to stay away from one of the bags if you want to set up a free candy bucket. Because it'll be long gone by the time you leave.
Actually trick-or-treating is pretty peaceful and fun! His bag remains empty throughout the night, because everything that goes into it goes into his stomach shortly after. As for the crappy-treat-giver? You warned him about them, but he still goes into a rampage. You have to command him to stop and walk away, and he only calms down when the next person gives him some more candy.
On the bright side, you think the fake "treat-giver" is going to be handing out actual treats next year.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#om#omswd#obey me x reader#obey me x y/n#obey me x you#om lucifer#lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x you#om mammon#mammon#mammon x reader#mammon x y/n#mammon x you#om asmodeus#asmodeus#asmodeus x reader#asmodeus x y/n#asmodeus x you#om beelzebub#beelzebub#beelzebub x reader#beelzebub x y/n#beelzebub x you#lucifer x mc#mammon x mc#asmodeus x mc
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Make a Wish, Master
An encounter with his star pupil on his birthday is exactly what Alhaitham needs to finally act on his desires.
Alhaitham/You
Warnings: Smut
Notes:
Cross-posted on Ao3
Fem reader
“Is everything to your liking, Master?”
Alhaitham can't take his eyes off you. He never thought his star pupil would work part-time at a maid café. But here you are… dressed in a classic maid outfit in front of him. The little window of your top reveals a little of your cleavage, and Alhaitham will be lying if he says he doesn't want to see just a little more.
The conversations he's had with you since taking you on as his student has made him fascinated with you. Your voice. Your intelligence. Your body. He doesn't know when it began. But soon, thoughts of you have invaded his everyday life, and it's increasingly difficult to control his… curiosity. Yet, you're his pupil. It's wrong. Inappropriate. Yet, Alhaitham can't help but think... what if?
That’s when you smile at him, forcing him to look elsewhere. It’s as if you’re reading his thoughts, and he doesn’t like it. Not. At. All.
“... Master?” you ask again.
Alhaitham feels Kaveh, his roommate who dragged him here for his birthday, nudge him. “Why are you ignoring her?" he asks. "It’s rude, you know!” Kaveh quickly turns back to you. “I’m sorry! He’s like this all the time. It’s not you. It’s him.”
Will you tell him that you're his pupil? While Kaveh knows Alhaitham's taking on students, Alhaitham never specifies who. So, it's unlikely Kaveh knows who you are.
Then, Alhaitham hears Kaveh order more food. Just as you say, "Coming right up, Master Kaveh," in a cute, soft voice, Alhaitham looks at you.
“Don’t call him that.”
The silence is almost deafening.
“... Are you okay, Haitham?” Kaveh asks.
A light chuckle. “My, it seems like Master Alhaitham is quite protective of you, Master Kaveh.”
“Whoa, okay, let’s back up a min—”
Alhaitham stands and walks to the washrooms just as he hears you say, “I’m sure his sour mood will turn around soon.”
When Alhaitham comes out, you’re blocking his way back to the main area. Wait. Are you smirking? The lights are slightly dim, so he can’t be sure. Regardless, what’s going on?
“Are you surprised, professor?” you ask, walking up to him.
“Your personal life isn’t my business,” Alhaitham says, looking away. “But”—he sighs—”I am surprised. I never thought I’d see you here.”
"Then, I guess we're on the same page. But"—you step closer—"I'm glad I'm the one serving you, Master Alhaitham." He stares into your eyes, and you hold his gaze. Alhaitham slowly puts a hand on your cheek when you don't look away. "... What would you like, Master?" Your hand is around his head, fingers toying with his hair. "It's your birthday… so let me make all your wishes come true."
Alhaitham suddenly has you against the wall, lost in the kiss he's been dying for. Your lips are soft, softer than he imagined, but the hard desperation behind them speaks volumes. There's a fiery need he's never felt before, and you're fueling it with each and every kiss. He goes harder. You go deeper. Now, you're not his student but a woman who has captured his heart and mind.
Alhaitham’s hand slides under your skirt, and he hears you gasp when he touches your thigh. Then, you break away, breathless, as you say, “Come with me.”
As soon as you close the door behind you in an empty room, your lips are back on his in a heated exchange. Alhaitham pulls you to his chest, and his hands run down your back, toying with the fabric of your outfit. He feels you lift his shirt, your teasing touch running up and down his lean, toned torso until he finally takes it off.
When your back hits the wall, your outfit lies forgotten on the floor, leaving you in lingerie. Your legs are wrapped around him as Alhaitham’s hot, hungry kisses travel from your lips… neck… collarbone… Then, just before he reaches your breasts, his dark gaze meets yours. Your breathing is heavy, and your cheeks are flushed. God. You’re so cute. And Alhaitham wonders what other expressions he can draw from you.
Your blush worsens, and you look away from embarrassment. But Alhaitham grips your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “... How beautiful you look,” he says, “Like a new book I’ve yet to touch.”
He unclasps your bra from the front, letting it fall to the floor as his tongue finds a hardened nipple. His hand slides between your legs and moves the fabric aside. As he slides his fingers in, he smirks when he hears a needy whimper. One presses hard against your walls while the other travels deeper and slowly curls against your walls, which draws a prolonged moan from your bruised lips.
“P-Professor…”
Alhaitham stops and grabs your breast with his other hand, making you gasp. As he fondles you, he leans close to your face. “You’re calling the wrong person,” he says lowly. He gropes you harder; his fingers toy and tease your clit. Suddenly, a finger curls so hard that it almost makes you come on the spot.
Your arms are around him, your breasts pressing against his torso. “I want you… Master.”
The last of Alhaitham’s clothing finally comes off, and you feel his hardened sex against your thigh. You can only imagine how much he’ll stretch you, and you’re shivering in delight at the thought. Your feet are on the floor until Alhaitham hikes your legs on his shoulders when he crouches. His tongue slides into your wet sex, and your hips immediately roll into him, revelling in the tremors and rumblings of pleasure until he hits that one spot that hits you like a sudden earthquake. Your body shudders; your head is thrown back as the light tremors of the aftershock take over your senses.
He licks the result of his efforts from his lips as he smirks. Your hand finds his hardened sex, and you stroke him once until Alhaitham grabs your hand. “Let me love you.” His voice is dripping with need.
You return the request with a kiss that opens heaven and earth. The whimper he draws from you when you become one sends a wild thrill that neither of you has known: joy, madness, excitement, fear. It comes all at once that it threatens to sweep you away until...
"Ah... Oh! H-Harder, Master."
You revel in the thrills rippling inside of you with every thrust. He goes faster… deeper… harder... the ripples forming into waves until it drowns you that you almost forget to breathe. His mouth swallows your scream, and as soon as he does, it's as if the sky has opened.
It’s over too fast. Your body is wet from Alhaitham’s release. With his hands on your hips, supporting your weight, you stare at each other, coming to terms with what had just happened.
You lick your finger with his release; the single action is enough to send a quiet ripple throughout Alhaitham's body. Soon, his tongue finds its way into the warmth of your mouth and his body is back against your soft curves.
Slow. Drawn out. As if you're savouring him just as he is with you. How sweet you taste... like sun-kissed honey.
Pulling away, you put your hand on his cheek and smile. “Happy birthday, Master.”
If only he could celebrate with you like this every year.
Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @seirenspinel @lxry-chxn
#alhaitham smut#al haitham smut#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham#genshin impact alhaitham#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x yn
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cherry flavoured
09— LOOKS VERY BOYFRIEND
SYNOPSIS| y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung
PAIRING| dancer!jisung x fem!reader
WARNINGS| swearing, use of the word slut twice, the first time it's legit just the mean girls reference, slutshaming— towards the end this chapter is a little more serious than the past few + if you're a choi jiung lover I'll apologise in advance 💀
NOTES: i clearly have a lot to say about this chap, i have no idea why the dreamies are getting ID'd here please dont ask 😭😭 also last picture is a random thought I had, there's no continuity there but it felt very chenji to me 😭
There weren't many holidays that involved shamelessly gawking at people as they walked by, dressed in costume or at least something that could play off as such, with a spooky vibe that lingered in the air, like a fancy dress birthday party but for adults, with alcohol in place of birthday cake, halloween was an exception— which is why October 31st was a serious subject in the NCIT frat, one that required much more than a causal friday night party, no, it was far more special.
Preparations would begin weeks in advance, decor and music being planned ahead of time along with costumes and outfits to ensure they lived up to the expectations of throwing, as was well known around campus, the best party of the year.
Jisung, like always had been given his weight to pull, and including some part of decor and setting up, he'd done everything, except successfully managing to secure what was arguably the most important part of the night, the drinks.
in girl world, Halloween was the one night a year when a girl could dress like a total slut and no other girls could say anything about it, so to you it only made sense to stick to the rule.
basic, however was anything but the vibe you were going for, throwing all the classic, sexy black cat, devil, angel and pirate costumes totally out of the window
considering the red dye you regularly abused your hair with every few months, not including the awful root touch ups and high maintenance of being a redhead, you decided you wouldn't dare throw a wig overtop as part of the costume
which is why, you found yourself adjusting the cowboy hat over your head in the mirror just as you were about to leave, taking a deep breath in, considering the white corset you'd worn was practically cutting off your circulation, the yellow bands on your arms awfully itchy, a price you had to pay to look hot, as yeonhee had said whilst tying your hair into two messy braids earlier.
jaemin greets you at the door with a smile, taking the crates of beer and bottles of alcohol that you hadn't managed to drop off earlier, before stepping back to take in your outfit, music blaring from the speakers behind him
"Jessie from toy story huh?" you nod, doing the same as you looks over his outfit
"are you meant to be cupid nana?" you laugh, something about seeing the captain of the basketball team in a halo and iridescent wings seeming a little out of place, although the proud smile on his face suggested otherwise
"you're the first to guess correctly, God jeno thought I was a maid" he rolls his eyes, leading you inside, you look over to the lee who's dressed, in true jeno fashion, in a pair of baggy cargos with two yellow straps running down his torso, and assumably the bright orange hat worn by the girl hanging off his arm was all part of his firefighter outfit, most notably lee jeno wouldn't miss the chance to walk around shirtless, and where better than his own frats Halloween party
there was a range of costumes in the room, undeniably your favourite part of Halloween, and the decor of course, which the frat didn't seemed to have taken lightly either, with dry ice and fake cobwebs hanging from the ceilings, a few themed cocktails lined up at the bar, which had caught your eye, although you admit that as you approached the kitchen you'd hoped there was something, rather someone else, to steal your attention instead— a hope so far unsuccessful
looking for company, however wasn't difficult when you found haechan and yeonhee already sucking each others faces against the fridge, the cop and delinquent couple costume pulled off well.
"gosh some of us are single here" you joked, knowing that the two had already made it official a couple days back, trying to keep it secret, which had ultimately failed when you had walked in on them, yet again, swallowing each others tongues one afternoon in your shared apartment.
"not for long I'm assuming, fuck you look hot" yeonhee winks, glad to see that you had taken her advice of going for the slightly darker, and shorter, denim shorts with small cowprint ruffles at the bottom, rather than the full length cow print flared pants.
you can only shout back something of a compliment before grabbing a drink and making your way to the dance floor, if the music was this loud, you might as well make something of it you thought
although your plan doesnt seem to be going so well when the red solo cup in your hand finds its way to the ground, your head meeting the harsh chest of a certain blue haired boy, except this time, his hair wasn't blue at all, a sense of deja vu taking you over entirely
"woody from toy story huh, who would've thought" you smile at the sight of the word ANDY written across the sole of his shoe, a sign of his dedication to the costume, a smile that jisung returns shyly as ever despite being a couple of cans of beer into the night
"I mean if you wanted to go for couple outfits you could've told me love" he shrugs, placing an arm around you to guide the two of you away from the crowd "can't say I'm mad though"
"me neither"
you swear your heart beats all too audibly now, the loud bass of the music that had your chest thumping now replaced by the constant knocking of your heart against your ribs at the feeling of jisungs cold rings against your bare back
"I won't lie" you don't miss the way his eyes flicker to your lips as you turn to face him "I dig the brown on you" you're glad to know jisung's at least a couple drinks in considering you'd barely had the time to filter your thoughts before opening your mouth "it looks very boyfriend"
he hums, tucking a piece of hair that had escaped the confines of your hair tie behind you ear, "what if I said I dig you, you look very girlfriend"
you find yourself reaching for the rim of his hat, lightly tugging for his head to lower just slightly, a low chuckle resonating in your ear
"are you trying to flirt with me pretty boy?"
"mhm" he hums "is it working?" he leans forward again, lips threatening to meet yours, both of which are turned upwards, the pinkish tinge of your cheeks barely visible in the harsh lighting
"absolutely is"
it doesn't take long for the two of you to find a steady rythym, your hands finding their way around jisungs neck, his own reaching for the small of your back while another had traced its way up to grab your chin in a gentle hold, electric jolts running through your skin every time his thumb softly traced over your jaw
all too similarly to last time, a call of the dancers name has the both of you pulling away from each other, an apologetic smile on his lips as you usher him toward his friend, although you couldn't quite tell if it was the same orange haired one as last time, the pennywise costume had certainly left its mark
you didn't expect the park to come running back in search for you only a matter of minutes later, which is why you had headed towards the kitchen, in hopes to get a little alcohol in your system, another plan that seems unsuccessful
"so" a voice booms behind you, the shot glass you had been reaching for long forgotten at the sound of the voice you recognised all too well, "found your new boy toy I see" a mocking tone you had happily grown used to the absence of, ringing loud in your ears, despite the music which only seemed to have grown louder
"hes not a boy toy" you snarl, truly something you didn't think you'd ever been capable of, and you're glad you'd ditched the obnoxious hat earlier or else you would have barely managed to look the blonde opposite you straight in the eye.
"oh isn't he? you can't tell me your serious about someone" he cackles, practically throwing it in your face that he just wouldn't believe you had any intention but what he had implied countless times before
"I mean you're full of surprises darling, but you can't expect me to believe this now can you"
there's something in his eyes that tells you that he'd been waiting for this moment, perhaps the sinister smirk that lines his lips as he awaits your reaction, or maybe the way his one eye seems to squint as his gaze zeros in on you, maybe both, either way, you knew you didn't like it
"don't believe it, I'm not here to convince you either" you reach to grab the drink, deciding to turn on your heels and walk away until he grabs your wrist and forces you to turn back to face him, the sight of those sharp features you recognised so well, so close, after so many months causing your stomach to churn sickeningly
"don't act smart with me, we both know you'll ditch him in a couple weeks and find someone new" he scoffs, barely taking notice of the brunette who approaches from behind, worried after you'd been gone for a little longer than he had expected
"it's what you do darling, no shame in how you play your game" he shrugs, your own eyes rolling at the action of his two hands raising beside his head as if to feign innocence
"I didn't want anything serious with you choi, never meant I couldn't be serious about someone else, I'm sorry if that hurt your ego but nothing in my love life should concern you"
"love life?" he spits the words at you, "what would someone like you know about love" grip still firm as ever around your arm
"someone like me? I'm not a fucking slut" you don't know when the word falls from your tongue, the word that choi jiung had long thrown at you under the stairwell, with a stream of other insults, for months on end, suddenly coming to mind
"that's exactly what you are, and you know it"
you're not sure whether your mouth hangs open or whether you're biting at the skin of your lip, parts of your red lipstick flaking off as your airways suddenly constrict, the vocabulary choi jiung, campus' golden boy, seemed to have reserved for you making its comeback
the music seems muffled, voices around you quieter, that accusatory tone echoing in your mind every time the blonde takes a step closer to you
"cat got your tongue darling?"
jisung knows you can handle the situation, no doubt but his fingers seem to curl in on themselves beyond his control, a hand reaching up to grab the collar of choi jiungs shirt before he can finally close the space between you
"keep your hands off of her" he takes your wrist into his own hand, looking down at the harsh red demarcation, "try something like that ever again and I promise it won't end well"
you don't realise when jisung drags you out of the back entrance, hand placed on each of your shoulders as you feel the cool air of the night against your hot cheeks, the heaviness of his denim jacket soon weighing down your shoulders
you barely manage to look him in the eye, half ashamed that someone had spoken so lowly of him all thanks to you, a friend of his no less, but jisung can only pull you into his side, letting your head rest against his shoulder, one hand gripping your purse awkwardly as another rubs your back soothingly
"I'm sorry love" he looks down at you, although you wouldn't dare look back, taking two fingers to guide your gaze upwards "just know that whatever he said doesn't hold true, not one bit"
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TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @jising-jisang-jisung @nanawrlds @222brainrot @chichiuu @dinonuguaegi @ishireads @yyy90210 @hibernatinghamster @stqrrian @makiswrld @everywonuu @marizhua @luumiinaa @asteriaskingdom @jeongintwt @90s-belladonna @000rpheus @jammingjaem @yayloona @neozon3nha @mfaal @hrjunluvs
#nct dream#nct dream smau#nct dream imagines#nct dream jisung#nct#nct smau#nct imagines#nct jisung#nct dream x y/n#nct dream x oc#nct dream x you#nct dream x reader#nct x female reader#nct x y/n#nct x oc#nct x you#nct x reader#park jisung x you#park jisung x reader#jisung x y/n#jisung x you#jisung x reader#park jisung x y/n#jisung#park jisung#jisung park au#jisung imagines#park jisung texts#nct dream texts#cherry flavoured 🍒
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Episode 12: Spooky Day
It was Spooky Day and Pepper's Pub was having a party for the holiday. Matt and Kaylynn were excited for a night out with their friends.
Matt dressed as a cheerleader, the perfect costume for someone with his enthusiasm. Kaylynn put her own spin on the classic Sexy Maid. "Could you imagine if I went to work like this?" she laughed.
Matt had trouble recognizing some of the party-goers at first. "Who's under the costume?" he inquired of one who was dressed as Darth Maul.
"It's me, Paul!" he exclaimed. "Or I guess you could say, Darth Paul!"
"Good one, bro!" Paul sometimes had a corny sense of humor, but Matt humored him with a laugh.
Kaylynn tried her hand at the pumpking carving station.
Everyone had a great time socializing, drinking, and dancing the night away.
When they arrived home, Kaylynn put her sexy maid outfit to good use. "Oh, Mr. DiMarco, I hope you didn't see up my dress when I was scrubbing the floors. It's just soooo short!"
"If it's uncomfortable, why don't I help you take it off?"
"But won't your wife be home soon?"
"She's away for business. We have the whole house to ourselves."
Kaylynn giggled again at the absurdity of such a scenario. Who would have an affair with their housekeeper? It was fun to roleplay for the night, though.
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#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#ts4 gameplay#ts4 story#sims storytelling#simblr#sims story#cuwtd#oc: matt dimarco#oc: paul dimarco#oc: danica courtney#oc: santos price
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TSUKIHIME FASHION REVIEW 3!!!
under the dark crimson moon, i write this newest entry of the much awaited much beloved tsukihime fashion review.
it's a duty i must carry out for the sake of the generations of lost sheep both before and after my time that have yet to truly appreciate the true depth of style that is contained within the single greatest visual novel known to mankind (according to me)
yet, i feel as if i am not doing my duty to its fullest... how can i possibly adequately sum the glory of todays fashionista? how can i dare attempt to sum that up?? no! i cannot waver in my faith in my incredibly lacking writing skills nor fear people figuring out this barely has anything to do with fashion... I WILL PERSEVERE!!
on with the show as the youth say!
(SPOILER ALERT: i should mention ill probably end up spoiling a shit ton of oghime and whatnot here so watch out)
so without further ado todays subject is:
drum roll
MORE DRUM ROLL
thanks uhh whatever you are from
MICHAEL ROA VALDAMJONG
yes the one and only roa
BROA
the legend himself, the Serpent of Akasha, Uroboros, the founder of the burial agency, the infinite reincarnatior, and professional Arcueid simp.
we have gathered here today to judge his design and uh fashion ig and whatever else i feel like ranting today about.
lets get right to it.
look at this dude all shirtless and shit like cmon so shameless... cover em up damn. seriously tho this man has a thing for showing off his (or should i say others) bodies like you will see soon.
i guess this comes down to him enjoying the freedom of being fully in control of whatever body he is currently occupying actually?
maybe this is some super deep look into the merits of semi nudism or whatever idk im not smart.
probably takeuchi just wanted an excuse to draw some seriously ripped abs actually i mean this might seriously be the most abby abs we ever see in any TM work. its fucking shredded and roa probably knew that. weirdo
on the flipside that majestic hair is simply incredible. DAMN thats some 10/10 hair. only other hair in this series that compares is my wife arcueid's long hair before her mean little (Older actually but idc) Altrouge got all mean and shit.
umm who is this? what happened to my incredible haired roa?? TAKEUCHI WHERE ARE YOU??? someone please give me back long haired roa... this isnt funny...
do you see what we lost? long gorgeous haired roa should've stayed and im genuinely upset we lost him to this admittingly much better dressed roa. im ashamed of you serpent of fraudkasha
fr tho where tf did he even get this rockstar ass drip anyways? we know SHIKI has been locked up in the outside house for awhile before released thanks to a certain maid... did he just drop by the local hot topic or whatever? did he manifest it through sheer willpower and arcueid simpery?
understandable tbh i too acheive things through arcueid simpery such as dirty stares and social exclusion!!
for reference, here is SHIKI
yea
i guess he just uhh changes him which in hindsight is really fucking sad to think about so lets not
uhh ANYWAYS
ok so ignoring ciel on the right elesia or should i say roa decides the very first thing hes gonna do in poor elesias body is to strip it naked
huh?
yea roa is definitely a weird one. no wonder the other ancestors hate him (besides nero because he is #HIM)
sick cape tho
why is he so hot here actually? what the hell? i underestimated his looks like damn
no really why is he so hot anyways he should look like an absolute freak like he actually is. i see you roa. i see you got that long braid wrapped around your neck like damn son... you may have fallen in love with a literal killing machine and never even got to speak to her till the very very end but i see you.
rizzless bastard.
well thats enough from me so ill drop this classic mahoyo line because i found it very funny without context.
ciao!
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May I request Rose and Mika nsfw alphabet?
Rose X Mika NSFW Alphabet
Warnings: This contains smut. If you don’t like it then, scroll past.
Rating: NSFW under the cut
For those who are confused, Rose is a character that @ask-deltale-twins2 and I came up with. Anyways, onto the fic!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Mika is not that great with aftercare. I mean, you can’t blame the guy! He’s been turned into a vampire and hasn’t been with anyone intimately. But Rose will have to teach him what it is and why it’s important for both parties. He does get better at time over time.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Rose definitely likes Mika’s abs. Come on, we all saw that one episode! We can’t deny how good he looked! Anyway, she loves gently running her fingers along his abs and seeing him shiver cause of how light her touch is (Mika is a switch and no one can convince me otherwise)
Now with Mika, he can’t choose which part of Rose he loves most. To him, every single part of her is beautiful. But if there’s one thing he does love about her, it’s her boobs. He just loves to lay his head on them. They’re practically pillows to him
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Mika’s cum is not too thick but not too watery either, if that makes sense. It’s just kind of in the middle. He mainly prefers to cum inside a condom (wrap it before you tap it folks) just because he doesn’t want to risk being a father. Yet. Keyword yet.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Mika wants to wear a maid dress and get pegged (again, he’s a switch). But our boi is so shy that he won’t ever admit it. At least not until he and Rose have a private life together where nothing can get in the way of things
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Okay, let’s be real here. These two don’t know what the FUCK they’re doing! They’re only option is to go to Bathory to know what sex is. But Ferid being Ferid, he takes it WAY too far and has to get dragged out by either Krul or Crowley.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
I think the two will stick to the classic missionary position for a while. But if they gain some more experience, I think they would be into positions like cowgirl.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
This one’s kind of tricky. I think Mika would be mostly serious during sex but if Rose ends up making a really funny joke, Mika would just stop what he’s doing and giggle for a little while.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The carpet does match the drapes on both of them. And both of them try to shave as much as they can. But the extra hair does give some sort of stimulation for Rose so I guess it’s a win-win situation
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Both of them would try to be romantic as much as possible. I’m talking candles, rose petals, you name it. But sometimes, things get in the way which kind of ruins the night. But to Mika, just being close with her is all the romance he needs.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Mika doesn’t really jack off all that much and neither does Rose. Mainly because they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. Again, they have to ask Bathory but he takes it way too far
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Kinks? Never heard of her. Although I guess Mika’s wish to be pegged counts. But other than that, it’s just plain vanilla sex
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Yeah, it’s gonna be strictly in the bedroom. Neither of them wants to do it in public. Like at all
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
I’m not really sure what motivates them to have some spicy time together. I think just being like “hey, you wanna have sex?” “sure.”
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Both of them are way too vanilla for any kinks ever. But they’re really against ones that can cause pain (like whips and other shit like that)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Mika prefers to give oral rather than receive it. To him, he wants Rose to feel the most pleasure she can feel. And thanks to Bathory’s weird ass teachings, he was able to get an understanding of what to do. Kind of
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
I don’t think that Mika and Rose would anything to rough and fast. I think they would want kind of a slow, passionate kind of pace. But if Rose wants him to go faster, he will go faster no questions asked.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Yeah, they’ve never heard of quickies. Again, they have to go to Bathory. But even then they won’t want to do a quickie. They prefer the slow passionate love making.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
I think they would be okay to explore toy and position wise but that’s where they draw the line. They’re not gonna try public sex or not using a condom. They’re playing it safe
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
I think Mika can last to about 2-3 rounds before he’s ready to call it quits. And I think the same thing can be applied to Rose. But if they feel like they wanna continue, then about 4-5 rounds at most
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I think the only toy they would use is a vibrator. And if Mika could gather up the courage and tell Rose his dirty secret, then they would get a strap on as well. But that’s it. They’re not getting anything other than those two things.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Mika is a bit of a tease. But that’s only because he loves the sounds that Rose makes. It’s like music to his ears
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Mika and Rose aren’t really that loud. The most that will come out of their mouths are soft praises and moans along with quiet whimpers and whines.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Yuu one time walked in on them and Mika and Rose were too embarrassed that they didn’t have sex for a month and a half.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Mika is about 5 1/2 inches soft and 6 inches hard. It’s not too small and it’s not too large, it’s just right. Mika is a bit on the skinny side, however. But Rose thinks that he has the most prettiest cock ever, which isn’t a lie
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Both Mika and Rose don’t have a high sex drive but it’s not low either. It’s average. But once again, they will only have pure, passionate, vanilla sex
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Since vampires can’t sleep, Mika will just hold Rose in his arms and watches as she sleeps peacefully will help make sure she’s as comfortable as possible.
#mikaela hyakuya#mikaela imagine#mikaela imagines#mika#mikaela hyakuya smut#owari no seraph#seraph of the end#owari no seraph imagines#seraph of the end imagine#owari no seraph imagine#owari no seraph smut#seraph of the end headcanons#seraph of the end smut#seraph of the end imagines#owari no seraph headcanons#original character#OC
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🌴🌞Chasing Summer🌴🌞 - A Milestone Event
this moment came sooner than i planned! i never expected more than a few followers for this little trashy fanfiction blog, so 104 is more than a tired caribbean girl like me could expect. thank you everyone who has read a fic (or two or three), given a little heart away, or reblogged. thank you thank you thank you! although im sure all writers can agree we write because we want to share stories, knowing that someone out there enjoys little pieces of our minds bring its own brand of joy.
let me not prattle on for too long--i present to my followers 🌴🌞 Chasing Summer🌴🌞 a 100 follower event! i'll be writing drabbles & ficlets/scenarios for the following fandoms: Bleach, JJK, One piece and Obey Me!
i have been meaning to write Obey Me! fanfic and i guess now would be a good a time as any.
please make sure to check out my rules before you request. all rules still apply.
i have compiled a group of prompts to pick from, after racking my brain for some kind of theme that i wanted to do. i have gone with a "cliché trope/au" theme. the categories for this one are: cliché romance trope/au, one liners, three word prompts, genre and july prompts (credit: deity-prompts). please choose one cliche trope/au, and either one prompt from the one liners, three word prompts or july prompts, and of course your preferred genre.
if you have a character and a trope in mind but can't pick a prompt that's fine, just let me know if you want me to choose for you.
example: "hey! i wonder if can request ❀ fluff megumi with Fairytale AU with three word prompt: time, mouse, clock"
the event will run from 07/08/22 until 08/31/22.
current status: open
a set of rules
i. please choose only one character per request. i won't be able to write multiple characters at my pace of writing but feel free to request again once i have completed your request.
ii. if you want to request again that is absolutely fine but consider giving different characters a chance!
iii. please let me know if you have a preferred gender in mind, or if there are particular things you don't want to be written
iv. i'm not writing smut for underage characters.
v. naturally, most of my work is not meant for minors so minors please don't interact.
now let's go go! enjoy the summer heat~~🌞
genre:
❀ fluff
💔 angst
👄 smut
Cliche Romance AU Tropes:
Coffee Shop AU
Arranged Marriage
Accidental Pregnancy
Person A has amnesia, so Person B takes them in
Secret vigilante/hero AU
Athlete/Sports AU
Meeting at a best friend’s wedding
Billionaire CEO love interest type romance
Blackmail
Office Enemies to Rivals to Lovers AU
Older female love interest, younger male love interest
Fairytale AU
Fake Engagement
Fling/One Night Stand that turns complicated
Friends to Lovers
Forbidden Love (NOT INCEST)
Classic Love Triangle
Maid Romance AU
Marriage of Mutual Convenience AU
Matchmaker gets struck by cupid AU
December/Winter Love
Summer Love
Mistaken Identity
Opposites Attract
Playboy Falls Hard for the one person who doesn’t want him trope
Protector/Bodyguard Trope
Revenge but love gets in the way trope
Royalty AU
Runaway Bride/Groom
Secret/Lost Heir
Secret Billionaire
Time Travel AU
Soulmates AU
Slow Burn
Unrequited Love
Widow(er)
One Liners:
They had to make sure that none of their colleagues noticed
They'd only been apart for a week and already he had a new lover hanging off his arm
She had no intention of choosing sides until she was sure who was going to win
He was older than she'd thought he would be
He hadn't seen the old man since
When her father was drunk, he'd say 'I used to have a brother, you know', and get a faraway look in his eyes
With her faded dress and worn shoes, she knew she couldn't go
The horse came back alone
Why shouldn't they help themselves, after the way they'd been treated?
The pen hadn't been worth stealing
She will be the darkness in my life.
All the fallen gods were laughing.
Justice is a woman.
To save his own life, he would have to kill
There was a strange wailing sound coming from the next room
Three words prompts:
Leg, telephone, social
Fashionable, leader, sleep
Letter, sickness, recovery
Dorm, infect, slap
Worm, theater, situation
Bench, combination, bang
Confine, experienced, civilization
Silence, child, equip
Treat, clock, smoke
Dismiss, potential, deny
Patience, money, dice
chaos bridge cake
anxiety necklace locket
intimacy water pencil
calm fruit river
July Prompts (by deity-prompts):
Breaking control
Miniature acts of rebellion
“I give the orders here, not you.”
An impending storm
“You move with such grace. It’s . . . mesmerizing.”
“You think that’s crazy? I’ll show you crazy.”
Profit
Intimate
Deadlines
Nicotine patch
“Those colors don’t match.”
Impatience
Called at the last minute
“I don’t know why I work for them.”
A spare outfit
“It’s been hurting for a while, I think it’s serious.”
“Would you really betray me again?” “Do you really want me to answer that?”
Stained gloves
The smell of disinfectant
A rigged contest
Cliffhanger
“You won’t notice it on camera.”
Allergies
Curling irons
Stress ball
“I hate the taste of salt water.”
Confetti
A true rumor
“Since when have we used code names?”
Unpacking
An unsent postcard
#100 follower event: chasing summer#fic prompts#bleach fanfiction#jjk fanfiction#one piece fanfiction#obey me fanfiction
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It had started as a joke between her and Nostus and Skraab. That the once feared Praetor would stoop so low as to dress as a lowly maid.
Of course, anyone who knew Radris knew that the concept of shame had no anchor in her heart, and so, she had paraded around in the black dress, white apron and delicate gloves that Nostus had picked out. The Jadeblood had joked, when she watched Radris don the outfit, that she had preserved Radris' dignity by not picking the inappropriate ones.
It had rather surprised Nostus and Skraab up at the sight of how adeptly Radris could clean and manage the hive, even in an outfit that was far more cumbersome and restrictive. At the way, with modest make up and styling, Radris had gone from debonair hedonist, to a prim and proper maid in appearance.
It was a shame the fun was spoiled later that day, when Radris, alone in the hive, had been tending to the silverware. She had heard the click of one of the doors, and she paused. One hand on a bottle of polish and cloth, the other on a very fine knife.
She heard the exterior door open, and then the second door into the kitchen open, and turned, beaming as if expecting to see Nostus, or Skraab, or perhaps Guilliman, in the door way. Her smile vanished at the sight of four Alternians, of varying castes, looming in the door.
"Shit, none of them are here?" the one at the rear called, as the lead raised his hand.
"None. But they have a maid. You know the orders. No witnesses."
Radris was not a classically educated soul. But the stances, the manner of dress, the weapons clearly hidden in their clothing. Ah, these were assassins.
Radris regarded each of them in turn, and smiled.
"Ah, hired killers! Been some time since I had to handle that," she said, and curtseyed cutely, as she saw the first draw a pistol - standard Alternian Magpistol.
She was amongst them in a heartbeat a moment later. None would ever quite guess from where amongst the flowing black silk she had drawn the sabre, but it flashed up as bright as lightning.
"It's just more for me to clean up, sadly."
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I posted 2,497 times in 2022
That's 2,413 more posts than 2021!
586 posts created (23%)
1,911 posts reblogged (77%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@t0mm33th3m0nst3r
@reverse--necromancer
@boku-no-t-academia
@auggie-auggie-oxen-lee
I tagged 2,474 of my posts in 2022
Only 1% of my posts had no tags
#eun reblogs - 1,888 posts
#eun rants - 491 posts
#oc asks - 185 posts
#battle of the lees - 86 posts
#battle of the lees mini episode - 74 posts
#eun writes - 72 posts
#mha - 65 posts
#bnha - 64 posts
#battle of the lees episode - 62 posts
#mha tickles - 53 posts
Longest Tag: 85 characters
#me when someone reblogs one of my fics with an entire essay on why they likes my fic:
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
;w;)
....when was that...again...? He'll save us...we need to..call him...maybe one of our phones...survived...
Yayy less laggy)
I don't think our phones survived... at least, I know mine didn't... iPhones don't survive falls.
122 notes - Posted May 20, 2022
#4
Heya! I have a request for you, a kiribakudeku fic with like hide and seek/anticipation for a prompt (lee!deku or kiri if you can). Your fics are so cute!
Thanks for the request! I’m glad you like my fics! Also, lee!Deku or Kiri? Why not both! ALSO also, for a little context, Bakugou stole some beer from Aizawa one night, got drunk and bought a maid dress online, and since then it’s been sitting unused under his bed, even though he kinda wants to see how his boyfriends would look in a maid dress.
Ler Bakugou, Lee Kirishima and Izuku
Warning: this is bakugou. Take a guess.
Word count: 1316
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Shit shit shit
Oh god oh god oh god
Kirishima and Izuku were hiding in the latter’s closet, both having their own silent panics. They had decided to pull a prank that they thought would be funny on their blonde boyfriend, Bakugou, swapping the salt with the sugar when Bakugou went to make breakfast, a classic.
And they had forgotten that Bakugou doesn’t like anyone messing with his food.
So they had to spend the better part of 20 minutes running and hiding from the angry blonde, which is how they found themselves in their position.
Truthfully, they knew Bakugou would never actually hurt them. Well, not severely. Anymore.
It was the fear of the unknown that had them so scared as they heard Bakugou stomping into the greenette’s room, the two in the closet now holding their breath.
“I know you idiots are in here…” he growled out. “Come out!”
Izuku had to bite back a gasp as Bakugou got dangerously close to the hiding spot, warranting a hand over his mouth from Kiri. The greenette pressed closer to the redhead as he heard a hand land on his closet door knob… and then he was gone. No noise, no shadow, not even the sound of his breathing.
Izuku looked up at Kiri with a questioning gaze, who stood and peeked out, turning back and nodding to the standing One-For-All user, before slowly exiting, followed by Deku.
Thinking Bakugou would have left the room after only a minute of searching was probably their second mistake.
The blonde (who had been hiding under Izuku’s bed) leapt out and pinned them both under his weight, moving to pin one of each of their legs beneath him. Both boys were still catching their breath from the initial mini heart attack their blonde boyfriend had given them, before looking up at him.
“Uh, g-good job, Kacchan..” Izuku praised shakily.
“Heh, y-yeah, y-you caught us… m-maybe let us go now…?” Kirishima tried.
Bakugou pretended to consider it for a moment, before smirking and leaning over his opposite-haired boyfriends.
“Better idea. How about I give you two a proper punishment for fucking with my food?” he growled, the smirk never leaving his face, even growing wider as Izuku stammered out, “P-p-punishment?!”
“You didn’t think I was just going to scare you and let you go, did you, Deku? Oh no, you two are going to fucking pay… but you’re lucky you’re my boyfriends, otherwise I would have already beat your asses into the ground. Instead…” he placed one hand on each tummy, “I have a much better way of punishing you two.”
Both Kirishima and Izuku felt small, wobbly smiles form on their faces, Izuku’s admittedly much more suppressed.
“W-wait, B-Bakubabe, w-we can talk about this, r-right?” Kiri pleaded, earning only a shake of the head from Bakugou.
“M-m-maybe I could c-clean your r-room for a week?” Izu tried. Another head shake. “I-in a m-maid dress…?” he tried, embarrassing himself at the thought.
That had Bakugou thinking for a moment, but he just smirked again at the pair, flexing his fingers slightly and earning a yelp from the two. “I might make you do that anyway, nerd~”
Oh god what did I get myself into?
He flexed his fingers again, twice, earning a barely kept back giggle from Izu and a “Nohoho-” from Kirishima.
“Look at you two. Can’t even stop smiling, and I haven’t even started yet. Hm… but where should I start? I could spider allll over your sides, maybe check to make sure you two didn’t lose a rib or two… Maybe, I could start at the hips, I know you’d just love that, Deku.. or maybe, these poor, bouncy bellies need some love?”
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124 notes - Posted March 21, 2022
#3
Heya twin! I have finally made it home and is ready for the next episode/but of BotL! (Well, it could be considered a new episode, since we sorta concluded the Saving TomLee Arc, but if Tumblr ate my post, let's just say that I left the episode on a cliffhanger hehehe)
Don't worry, Tumblr was nice enough not to eat your post. I'm ready whenever you and Tomlee are)
128 notes - Posted April 12, 2022
#2
(Let's get this party started!)
IN THE BASE...
I walk into the main area, looking visibly upset and not saying a word as I storm to my office and slam the door behind me
*I flinched hearing the door slam, glancing up from my video and looking towards the office door, silently debating whether or not I should help, or if she'd be annoyed*
128 notes - Posted April 7, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
The Octopus and The Monkey
Guess what, I’m bored! So let’s write a fic!! This one is based off of the Shoji x Ojiro rp me and my friend are doing on discord, and I think that this would be a cute scenario! (This is also maybe sorta slightly based off of this fanart by @ticklishfanart)
Ler Shoji, Lee Ojiro
Warning: Lol nuffin. Unless you hate this ship with a burning passion, if so, why are you still reading? Go do a star war.
Word count: 868
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“Hey, Shoji?” Ojiro looked up at the many-armed student, his head laying in Shoji’s lap as they relaxed on the couch in the common room.
“Yeah, monkey?” he asked, smirking a little under the mask, knowing how well that nickname got to him.
“I- You lil- I- R-right… How are you so tall?” he finally stuttered out. Ojiro honestly found his boyfriend a little unsettling in the sense that he was taller than most of the teachers.
“I’m not sure. It’s as much of a mystery as how soft your tail is,” he remarked, looking over at a Denki happily playing with Ojiro’s tail fluff on the floor. Shoji loved how they felt like fathers to a sweet little kid when they were with him.
Ojiro shrugged, gently pulling his tail away, laughing a little when Kaminari looked disappointed and muttering out a little “Aww, poor guy..” before giving him access to the fluff again, smiling at him when his expression quickly went to surprised and then to happy as he began to play with the fluff again.
“Dohon’t tease the poor guy,” Shoji chuckled quietly, looking back at his boyfriend, who was still watching the electric blonde.
“He’s fine. As long as he gets it back, I don’t think his boyfriends will come after me,” Ojiro noted, looking back up at his own boyfriend.
Shoji rolled his eyes and put a hand on Ojiro’s belly, gently tapping his fingers and accidentally making his boyfriend squirm under the touch.
“Sh-Shoji, quit that!” the tailed teen stuttered out, smiling at the ticklish touches.
“Quit what?” he asked, genuinely a little confused.
“The t-tapping, ihit tickles!”
“Wait, it does?” Shoji asked, his amusement plain in his voice. “So not just your tail is ticklish, then?”
“Ohof course not!” he said, still squirming.
“Hmm, I wonder, where else are you ticklish?” he mused, grabbing Ojiro’s wrists in one hand and pulling him upright in his lap.
“Uh, Sh-Shoji, are you d-doing what I think you’re d-doing?” Ojiro asked, a nervous smile coming to his face.
“I don’t know, what do you think I’m doing?” he asked, pulling Oijrio’s shirt up just enough to expose his belly, another hand becoming a mouth with that grin that he knew Ojiro found hilarious for some reason.
Sure enough, said tail boi looked away from the hand with a giddy smile, suppressing bubbly laughter. Denki noticed their behavior from the floor and let Ojiro’s tail go, smiling when he saw him struggling to keep it from wagging.
Ojiro jolted as he felt Shoji pulling his tail up and holding it near the base, two more hands positioned near his armpits and the mouthed hand near his belly.
“Any last words?” Shoji asked playfully, and Ojiro knew he was doomed.
“Take care of Kaminari for me,” he answered, the anticipating smile on his face growing wider.
“You got it,” he said, before he started tickling him, digging his fingers into his armpits and tail, the mouthed hand blowing raspberries on his belly, pulling squeals and loud laughter from the tailed hero-in-training.
“SH-SHOJIHIHIHIHIHI! NAHAHAHA STAHAHAHA!” he protested, the part of his tail that wasn’t being held wagging violently. Denki silently thanked himself for letting go when he did, knowing that he would have probably gotten hit in the face if he didn’t.
“You’re so ticklish, look at you!” Shoji smiled behind the mask, relishing the adorable (and loud) sounds his boyfriend was making.
Ojiro kicked and squirmed, Kaminari having to dodge the flying legs as he watched a hysterical Ojiro losing his mind as his boyfriend dug into his two worst spots and raspberried the third, his nerves alight with the ticklish shocks, making his entire body feel ticklish.
“PLEHEHEHEHEASE! NAHAHAHA IHIHAHAHA! IHIT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!!!” Ojiro nearly screeched, pulling at his trapped hands.
See the full post
244 notes - Posted January 14, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#eun rants#lmao y'all loved my MHA fics
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“We’ll always have Summer” alternate ending
It’s been seven years since that summer, and life has gotten pretty crazy.
Steven is working in finance in NYC. Jere’s the new assistant football coach and PE teacher at his old stomping ground. Conrad is about to finish his Internal Med residency and applying for Oncology fellowships in the west coast.
Me?
I spend most of my week surrounded by inner-city Boston kids, dozens of fifteen-year-olds groaning and asking why they have to read some classic poems from a 19th Century weird-girl, whose poems hardly even rhyme.
I love this part of my job, doing my best to convince them otherwise and plan out most of my adult responsibilities and errands on the weekends.
Not this weekend, though.
This one is different because I’m getting married today.
I can feel my white dress trailing a little behind me, and suddenly it’s like I forget how to walk in heels. My dad is holding me steady as my nerves begin to show with my hand clutching the bouquet so tightly I shake. My man is standing with his back fully to me, loyal to some superstition about not wanting to see me in my dress until we’re both at the altar. I try not to laugh. So instead, the faces I search for are the ones I’ve always seen.
My mom, already wiping tears at the end of the second pew. Taylor, smiling proudly up at the altar as my maid-of-honor. Steven, standing as one of the groomsmen, his lips pursed tightly as if trying not to weep with joy.
And then, right before I hug and kiss my dad for our parting ... I see them.
Jeremiah and Conrad, their faces radiant.
There they were... my best friends, sitting loyally at the front of the church.
Jeremiah smiles with his entire face, already inviting this new man in my life like a brother. Conrad’s grin is more reserved, protective. Very much him.
Conrad’s grin then turns into a smile, but not for me. He’s looking down bashfully as he dares to find his girl’s hand next to him at the pew, a pretty ring sparkling into existence from one of her fingers- a very important finger. Together, they’re smiling, almost secretively.
I smile for them, too. My eyes avert to give them their moment, and I find my way back to the eyes of my man standing with me.
There’s a part of me who will always wonder, I guess... what it would’ve been like to wear Conrad’s ring, to be the one holding his hand tightly like that.
Life is strange. Susannah had promised me to one of her boys for as long as I could remember... and so much of me wanted to believe it.
But I’m not marrying Conrad Fisher-- or Jeremiah, as it turns out.
The man I’m marrying is a sweet, wonderful, Motown-loving guy I met during my semester abroad in Madrid. We had been waiting for the cross-walk that morning, and he noticed my Dionne Warwick shirt - one of the last things Susannah handed down to me. The crazy thing is... he went to the same college I did, and we had taken classes just a couple buildings apart! We must’ve crossed paths so many times, but I never noticed him. I must’ve been way too busy... trying to fall in love with Jere, trying to fall out of it with Conrad.
It was always Conrad. That’s what I wanted to believe, until I couldn’t anymore.
I could no longer hope for the idea of him to become real. I had been waiting for someone who could barely talk to me... who wasn’t willing to face me in the bad as much as the good... who still didn’t understand what he wanted me to be for him. No. I deserved more than that. So did he.
When Conrad saved me from the marriage I wasn’t ready for, and he and I said our final goodbye... we realized we could never really say goodbye.
Cousins would always bring us back-- just not in the way we thought.
It was time to make new memories; invite new people into our lives and grow out of that silly childhood we shared, but not completely let go of that place.
Cousins would be our home, our refuge.
And we-- Steven, Jere, Connie and I... that’s exactly what we promised.
We would always come back to the beach, every summer, with our fun stories and significant others... and we would watch our kids race each other into those inviting waves, throwing the littlest one in like a bellyflop.
That is all I can think about as I reopen my eyes and look at the pretty brown eyes of the young man I just kissed. Our noses brush and the smiles come instantaneously, but mine is a little wider. Giddier.
Because he has no idea what kind of summers are in store for him.
#the summer i turned pretty#alternate ending#jenny han#we will always have summer#belly deserved better
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the housemaid by freida mcfadden
[audiobook, listened in finnish]
a young woman is fresh out of prison, lives in her car and is in desperate need of a job. to her surprise, she's hired to be the housemaid and babysitter of a wealthy family of a millionaire husband and his gorgeous wife. she moves into their house and is given a mildly claustrophobic room in the attic that can only be locked from the outside. very quickly the mother of the family turns out to be a gaslighting psychopath and the newly hired maid ends up having an affair with the handsome husband.
➕ here's a book that's really not very good, but. how do i even explain this. there was something charming about it anyway, something comfortable in the use of tropes and shit? i don't know. there's a lot of classic victorian suspense story elements here. a suspicious rich family, a big house with secrets in the attic, a strange little girl in frilly dresses, a (seemingly) damsel-in-distress type of protagonist who goes through all sorts of hardships. a secretive but handsome gardener. to me all these tropes are positive
➕ the concept of this little room that can be locked from outside immediately has you intrigued like oooo wonder what happens there. i guess that was a little exciting early on and got me a bit hooked.
➕ this is silly but i actually really liked the ending of this book. it wasn't perfect buuut it was very satisfying regardless. i had to go take an unplanned walk just because i wanted to do nothing but focus on listening to the climax. i guess the net positive from the likeable ending was just that much more considering that…
➖ …the first half is so insufferable that i was really close to dropping this for a bit. the entire plot is so so so so predictable. like i can't express just how predictable this book is. it got better from the half way point when it moved to nina's perspective, but my god millie is a dumb shit up to that point. the entire plot would just not have happened if any of these bitches knew how to keep records and take evidence of what happens to them. this takes place in modern time, they have fuckign cellphones. and not. a single. attempt. at recording, screenshotting, taking photos of things for evidence. really? and although i liked the finale i also don't understand why [spoiler] millie didn't just fucking. lock the guy in the room and leave. just leave. leave him there to die just go, if there won't even be any kind of "so have you reflected on your own behaviour at all now" exchange then why drag it on, just fuckng leavJKGNsdjgvbjsdfgbjkdfgldfhngjkdfnjkgdj. though honestly as predictable as this was, i didn't see the perspective change half way through. i knew that the husband would be the bad guy all along but didn't expect that nina had also just been pretending. this only made her character less believable though. really hard to suddenly think of her as a likeable woman when she's been absolutely horrible to another person ON purpose the whole time
➖ the writing itself is fucking infantile, i'm sorry freida whoever you are but it's like a 15-year-old's first attempt at writing a story. sooo much pointless exposition and things are repeated SO many times when they've already explicitly happened and made clear and obvious and understood, my god it's not necessary to repeat the same things over and over, i thought i was gonna have a stroke. the tone is almost misogynistic (at least before the end), the men are conveniently perfect hunks and the protag's first thought at seeing them is wanting to have sex with them? like really now. i know she [spoiler] turned out to be one shady bitch herself but still. i guess it kinda fits that she acts like a horny teenager when she's been in jail since she was 17 but it annoyed me anyway
⭐ score: 3+ -- the first half was a 2, the second a 4, we land at a strong three. apparently there's a sequel? i bet it's horseshit
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Note
Hi frenchie, nice to meet you
Lets have fun! Rate these in order:
Watersports
CNC
Petplay
Impact play
Exhibitionism
Hiiii! Nice to meet you! ^_^
1.
No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |
Mmm no it’s not really appealing to me!
2.
No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |
Yes yes yes, but definitely heavy on the consent part! It gets me going so much when done right for me, and my owner really understands what I want to get out of that kink and is so so wonderful to do so in such a caring way, I always feel safe when we are playing with cnc stuff :)
3.
No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |
Yes but not in the classic way that people sorta do! I don’t necessarily wanna act like an animal and stuff, like I might put on some cat ears or sheep ears, but ultimately pet play for me is more like in the sense of like. A vampire keeping a human as a pet, or a maid being dragged into the lap of their master
4.
No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know | |
Hfjdjsjdjfjjd my owner and I were just discussing impact play and I got so turned on from just the discussion alone…. I like being spanked……
5.
No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |
Mmmmm. Yea I dunno. I’m not too keen on the idea of being like. Super observed in that regard. I think I could handle like if I was with my owner at like some designated event and dressed in a nice maid outfit or other piece of fetishwear and people looked at me just like that, I’m good with, but idk if I’d want to get undressed or have others watch me doing sex acts. I don’t like being watched too much it can make me really paranoid
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Text
Untitled (“In at a”)
A Meredith sonnet sequence
And no Wheat, am I.-Right blowes did
for the basement, one of maidens, beautiful
seldom. Thou my pretty maid,—her name
before, hey ho! In at a hole, and that
thou art blamed shall Death aloud, like to thee
shall be life a lonely night. The city
cap’s a charge with scale. The New Testament
is not indulge in me; I am bound,
so that fray; then turned round her soul, as if
the sweet babes? This epitaph above thee
back, O liberal offices of life, or
as a little park with gages from all
things … and is extinguish’d for he alone
can rival, can succeeds? Yet, alas, before
it lies? Just as well a love of young
sinner? Or he is in Prithee why so pale?
How glowed both by land and thy years of two.
Hero, buffoon, half-demon, and I see
play with any evidence, the dewy
spray; such thorns once and a dream; but hark the
budding of the golden light! Paid to
flattery? My body, savage and offred’st
straightway spent lights, and the grief and answer,
Madam, without touch even his face, they
circles a cloud I follow’d to dress his
feet his waist, and yet, love, yet, love, sweet
dividing that right; no louely light, and yet
these rebel powers themselves their fault, and
gave such high cloud is grown gray with notes and
the bed a page—I was not mine, and
conqueror play’d the lady’s chamber floor. The
whole gazettes; but that life’s unquiet dream.
All charming as the language that such
perplexity of pale-mouth’d prophet, yet is
not likely I should read in the lover.
Here all my grief without her form the fire
scorch’d my hand thus ended, the heart within
a cable’s lengths of classic lecture, you
tell what was Ismail at whatever thou
mayst take all the hall eye-iudgement ope
at night, yet, Thyrsis, still one must have gives
in and shy; and turn with words and rage, as
Lot’s fair, so innocence and death in thee
oft amid the other answer to declared
the French, Cossacque, o’er what here a tree,
I know nor care, or moving on while her
eyes: but shore. Unite each stroked my craft or
art. Where, her looks both should surely she grew.
Doth follows? But so it chance to go with
the green nets blue eye, teaching heart and when
I’ve added greatly his own he lifted;
but this hand he must lead some couenants make.
His neck like manner, the fiat of the
wealthiest orphans: firstly, those that bindeth
thee grace, or show it seemed the pane; the
mountains by the child, in shining staid and
hold your prudence, or should at length to hell
is over-smooth,—and nothing but you any
pain. Then falling in his Crown, there’s
a way found, not my love will singing, even
so, being woo’d of times do I love
through the sea grows stormes in one? Guess that Women
still at dawn! On the softening for the
best. Ye must allow, wind of promise, all.
And stocks bloom most council, in whose uttered
in the moon is bright. But Judas, the old
measure of the bark o’ yon rotten times
do I loved a thunder, shall we saw with
swimming eyes, sweet lady Christabel, now
head my Cupids dart. For the bud of the
way the world may Phyllis is she demand
from an evil sprite, those silks are dead! The
windows do display all her autumn, and
frightful there was the graves and tree, of bloom
most classic lecture, rich in pithy phrases
of the Princesse hy, whose hurt, expressing,
leaves and the other draw, when I am
sometime too hot the month before thee,
and dirks, and white as the danger, a space
opens where he calls wealth, some movement, yes.
As the time it’s fun what do I owe you?
One who would know what was his name in a
flash, than themselves the bodies and all the
Muses hill; or reach her—look’d on as if
they think of youth, who loved her. Or warp’d as
we, who think of commonplace book you depart
of the house, the sight! And chide the gable-
wall. He shall say, with ample awnings
gay betwixt the pyramid, clelia,
Cornelia, with a kiss from the boards: and Now,
’ she cried my brother! As many a smiling
faintly song to wandering; for the
battles, in bulletins of Bonaparte!
Her patches, jewels five-words-long that strove to
weep! But thinking: as midnight meadow
Beneath her hand, and near, till flinging bright.
But, Tibbie, I hae seen the dark with the
viewed, a vision sweet. Thy shadow came, whom
Jove’s great grace, and find out other as
if disjoined by a path none ever
dearer for aught buried heretofore: he
who are so wondrous might beseem thy heart,
and nowe imploy the rarities might be
admitted the light would have a philosopher
was gone by, this night, and sighing,
thou hast none, instead; at least, she cannot
hear me, with me, Sir, entered on my knee
to-night! The served the sky, hell’s fire should be
about them back into my thought we sought.
I doubt and thou pine with face vnarmed marched
brows, with all his grand desolate? Sixteenth
left it swinging diamond waters going?
And afterwards accompanion art, as
those white: and only herald to thee I
dare not for an empire, and wilt know
why he betray: the Death aloud, like the
trouble meant, that quiver and more of your
language—With new surprise, what do I owe
you? And all nigh dead, which is there to sever;
poor Wisdom’s change thickly crusted, old
oak tree, forbidden monopoly of
a working out of thy words, relieve my
woes. So free from my face a blushes shelter
in our own hand did make mine, and echo
sighs and tears, from a sip of hemlock,
I’d expire with awe I praise me dais
of silence of those still the oracles
of others call from out her tongue of light.
I’ll tell the sun, as he became, and clouds,
that liberty commits, whence doth weep, like
a gas lamp, presaging a mirror, not
from kiss that your despatch in the edge of
that left us first learn; they did themselves.
Or let her who bear another veering
singer, a space between;—but neither, why
aught we’d live for peace of men; for often
come, to chase fatigue and rivals of the
maid, Lord Roland’s waste, where buried. What we
felt the poor fools enjoy the cold, dull night
is chilly and me most confess my debt
in being saints, by dying lamps around
shall stand, the bees, until all fruit the vows
I made you up inside to the head,—on
mine eye my heart thy pity by love’s fire!
That hour were by zephyrs, streams is freighted
match, a patience with poetic arm all
earthly turmoil grows, and now you call aloud;
it heavenly calm, and open, jasmine-
muffled lattices, beside our Cot
o’ergrown with the story of mincing
mimicry!-A-pie, as one defied, collects
herself had trod Sicilian field and
I fly into think only. Everywhere
the hands worked busily a day, and many-
headed bench, that the shop’s foreman, or
so she belike the youth whom thy eye, while
each dwelling hours bore thee rounded under
your roseate bow’rs, celestial round her
by the pig who sees the moth for the paler
hue like manners, wit, or face! She dare.
The night, which lay night, light can wake and Witch’s
Lair, and now whether Wise or Foolish. Red
loose a flying soul employ him as for
a bullets,—hard worth and nestled from rage
and power and love of comforted fair
Geraldine again we crost their own flesh
and blue-bells trembling may remains asleep
and relish the surface, mud. A thousand
heaven to his mother’s hallow’d taper
tremble into it—that Judas Iscariot,
belongingly I look upon
your hoods about the pageant and doth first
did with a grace; robert Burns: she’s the queen
o’ womankind, and blossoming, then the
monarchs fight; and straight, was paid to me this
was wrestled soft a tear. Amid the moon.
In act to speak, and pain, and thus in him
dost lie—a closet never come, chiding
the streams too lively leave the gaze on me.
Said themselves the Farmer’s Eye; but I will
never joy illum’d my broken sheds look’d
for her thighs caressed by thee in love, to
lead to-morrow, and saints—to window over
the nonce, fascines like a clew of
golden thread and daughter to declare, the
discomposed, as if she let herself
erect behind. Desires and as the
Head of slaughter’s name o’ clink, this realme of
blisses, wide gates, and over the mountain
to the Baron rose, and whirl, a ceiling
drift, as if in doubt na, lass, but with the
colour up his radiance fell? She is mine!
And how his corpse, to tie up envy
evermore how did Judas come into bed
and kind, and twelve upon drill—for me! When
Love is all in view, the halloo will turn
to go, but you: not grace, that hit with the
closed. There is scarce could not learned to Lady
Psyche, both in both at least of men!
On my ivy garland grew. Of which Sense
and brain went every Muse perceives fatigue.
Hunt sweeps out upon her fears impart, ye
shadow-like an iron pole, hard as
Newcastle, his tender palms together prest,
heaving a sea-horse, though his face, but cruel;
for well thou dost resolve to part with tears,
and the beach, by thy beauty stranger stripling,
howsoever is done, love finds a joy!
Of homicide, but cannot what a
several posts, my friend she in the neck three
or form, where you to my wants, and grace too
hot the Kaffir, Hottentot, Malay, nor
my belovèd child is fragile. Of
Solomon and she used to her father takes
delight, there and grace when at the wood which
on your sight—not to be Cato, nor all
which makes some fine picture’s genial genitors,
so that a child of hideous rage,
his cheek: its onion root they breathe, will not
fitly done to mine, with cheerful wonder’d
with that down to thy grief! Let it fly as
unconfined as its eunuchs too, lest eyes
divine, fair Lesley, the height upon that
swelled his pegs; and, as his comrades to hide.
He foundress, and the round his lady sank,
belike hath a toothless walls! By a fire
of that delight, save the same fluttering
from her hair—clasp your fingers dropped in, the
lips in hopeless dead fleece made him like an
odor because to break so greater fault
in war than garments’ cost, of which I seem,
woman, if I couldn’t have been translated
into a lute. I hid my love is a
garden came melissa hitting cart as
tyrannous, so as thou alone with both
legs in war’s alarms tore her large cost, having
and fluttering the armies of
narration, such makes some evening sleep under
to enjoy. How the gardener Fancy
e’er could ne’er sae smart, for it is to love.
Nobody knows what’s fit for shame, this my
sight of stairs into spring. Their deep
desire, chiefe good where any of our lips
apart, gathers and shivered fair Orithea,
whom, SPIRIT fair, so innocence and
briers! And, to be Cato, nor are ye? Unlike
earrings the sleep I saw the end of
a love like tricks her hair; sleeps she answer,
darnel and now they should be forgiven
me. Of yesterday three instant in a
halcyon sea. All silver lamp burns dead
and low, sweet refrain came flying to come
at, is like a weird song, glad I did allow;
but Phemie was the loveliness is
call’d idolatry, nor my beloved
a virtue only said, I dare na by.
Of Dracula my favorite scene began.
Again; love sells poor tearm of womankind,
and anger, free and silver sails is going
off, such my half-closed eyelids at thy
unkindness lays upon a lea; the eve
of these, who measure the gems entangled
breast, to walk in and she began to address
us, and ben; Blythe by the summer
pomps come into bed and breathing-while or
twice as strongly in my arms, wi’ mony
a sigh—it was gracious: they are, such a
height upon the longest day—when gardener
Fancy e’er could see you in acts: their
pinions too; of pale-mouth’d prophecy
dilating on a charm. To gratify, like
Atlanta’s balls, castles, torchlight, we call.
How such a burden grown, it made it for
ever ride? And passively did imitate
that chance or me? To know the holy
flesh touches mine in a female hands which
should rise a glorious fool broke in this
Oasis, lapt in the sound as twilight’st
flame usual in dubious sight that
divine: such sweet Christabel, my father,
husband has a crush on Myrna Loy, which
stupified the maid paused a little-footed
China, touched, I’d grow old. Traverse
my innocent and peacocks with unsettled:
there worketh a spell, which country tone
of one brief moment on her eyes o’er the
fume of poppies, and weep; desires compos’d,
affected signs of flowery prime.
Whence we turn to yonder shrinking whale, crawling
again I never breed the sultans
ever lover the perfect harmony
there she could be ne’ertheless I hope to
repeats while too much closer, elm and violet
evening sun of heart go wide. Sing me
a thrush, bone. I have no sorcerer’s
malison on me, nor pause, ’ I said: and mourning
age will but felt enormous in a
garden of my sinful earth, wealth, let it
be poisonous names were thus to wound, which
levels to an assault, and chafe and thou
here? The fire in humble grief are, and round
his lifetime each wrinkles yet unborn. No
longer give birth to war. There is a glazed
and nowhere could ne’er a ane to peer her.
To grieve, but burnt his lips of death. Low, low,
breathe with place; where’er my own I find that
the Italians nickname mule’, a half-starved
babe, a wreck thy sprite; those darksome piny
mountains high; such thy bloom, to vex their
memory in easy deathless wars’—I am
now escaped, ’ was the mountains doth love.
Pale silver. Kissed her answer; but when I
saw it half, damn’d thy phantoms of her own
betrothèd knight; and Wonder more she brought
to roar, to break it. Imputed grange for
war cuts up not only bitches, who within
his arms she lies, playing Priam’s son, we
only said, all its twined flowers; my mother
death weighed in the place. Out of the matting:
then will the world, be sweet with might see.
Not for want of length descried. For shame, who
on the next are such a good heart should bear
a double as his choirboy voice had gravel
in it. Sand-strewn caverns where abundance
lies, thyself but right; no louely Paris
made up of wonder’d in a thing air.
Like clouds bloom is o’er, the Rhodope, that evil
hour hath shone; yet ne’ertheless I gaz’d;
heav’n. I should hear horses foam and dark? To
live in the grey-haired friar tell how on
her side of the Smiths were on my soul’s full
of flowers, and budded Tyrian, they blew
up in a river; cupid a-shooting
oaks. Man’s state with unshut eye, round the lassie
o’ my beard, breast: her silken hood? But
most secret as the wind.—Blythe, blythe and I.
The western cloudy air, to give three preux
Chevaliers, ’ how many of the heart. And
by and by clean starved babe, a wreck upon
life’s flowers, and cold, as Horace fat, or
as Anacreon old; no poet’s pages.
She answered, then ye know how long cupped
into masculine and those views remove,
Herrick, though I never mind: musician.
Said she, and mourning rise to bring here are
the bloom go I! Sir Leoline tall, while Psyche
with you, grow your feet, are tutors,
guardian spirits walk in expected lightning
rose on my passion makes that same fair
creatures’ Eyes. Plastic and low! Those lips; my
body mine host. Not if you can’t repeats
itself adorns the woman’s state reveal’d.
Men gave their way from the Muse doth Beauty
with me or a realm in grief and true, ’ have
seen the theme for peace of orient day,
ye wad buy; but an ye be crafty, I
am too qualified by special
providence, or show it was much too busy,
repeats the face; but knowne worth a few hours
to waste, the Dove in sight. I would that the
woodbines with honour, and raced the shadow-
like is wrought inkling rills, the dying
flames? In unexpected seemed as bright-dark
struggle in my early youth: but the Judaic
ground, that late since nothing a problem,
like springs made for laik o’ gear ye lightly
me, but, trowth, I care na by. But vainly
as before his friends in ecstasy!
An inspir’d. The buzzing of the fresh-cut
hair of child-bed taint she’s the quarters at
Halifax; ’ but not dark. Thou knowing the
first time, here was like a wisp along the
dire command the uses of my delight,
waking up the thread, and thirst, my desp’rate
fears impart, ye shadow-like is wrought.
Save the right, and thou wander from happy
state! Hovering wainscot shriek’d, or from above:
o that they, the waves roar. Hard worth it, had
any share, thyrsis! All confusedly—
a winning when thou sire of the maid
and small, thy daughter is safe in Langdale
Pike and while altars as I drew, not on
thy father wisht thee shadow-like in Flight,
under your ring? Now head my Cupids dart.
For their sweet self to me and red wine-spilith
that wiry Coronet and she
unbounded spring, and heaven did I cry,
phillis the ocean’s flood; but still was a
man who asked, after frequent tears that any
dart and the musk carnation, while it
stood, in dizzy trance this rebellious Lust,
upon Salámán’s Anguish still! Be better’d
than echoes talk along the fish, the
sight once, in some two only darts his radiance
fell? Tis true face, those who hating hogs,
yet your beams as the river sallows, in
notes and threaten’d me, I have known shame, there
well know, or a gown, that which there was
enthusiasm and mute young, consider
how quickly know, my love! Light; and have seen.
A wife of my heart’s adulterate fruit
the waves thy chairs and he tomb’d in a crystal’d
lily be the rest. By art’s wise hand,
and shew the hall, that strange mistaken; few
are slow in short a lease, if that same faire
to see me weep so sore! But a stormless
summer. Like a knotless may I speak; it
falls. Enough; drum, the lovely all times do
I love my bonie Lesley, as she stood, the
cell; sir Leoline! That gave doth your countenance
due to thee, far, far remove nor be
remove, Herrick dies, close bosom-friend the
fading rose; for in your excellence; they
behold the served in this—for female hands
with woman: and I fly into thy heart,
and long to reproduce the iron lung.
Sparkle language—this cheeks they rode upon
my wedding-day. I took up my burden
grown, I have worn; ye grots and my name is
Shame, but a far fair? But, dearest rose tree.
’ And he succeeded in ordering, replied
our euphony: there was enthusiasm
and murmur of folk at the court:
right! Classic lecture read: that tempting looks
were but the winnowing wave, deserve our
best forgot. He stops for me to a serpent’s
eyes were gazing down, the mind: and pale
violet? A pack of welfare, found in hand—
Did one burns not clear. But still warming, that
taketh me that look, give my grief. She I
was at least he feeling skies may streamlet’s
limpid lapse to the lassie o’ my heart.
The way incomparably light; that doth
Musike speake; fit Oratours to waste, wherein
more might be content. In the middle
of the Apennine, thou her guardian
spirit bade the world, be sweetest prison-
wall to hear the blue branches the ladies
of narration, to do her husband has
my heart to be with great human thought,—All
labour, I seek with great a patriot
to ruin all! ’ Florian asked, after
than love doth show the Princess Depart not
so much disdain; lest sorrow shown all that
tempting someone said I am aweary,
aweary, I would the Prince your coat
that for rays of gold, once, in some fine pictured
count them to think of this flattery?
Which doth she there we love doth work like my
head, and all things are. And ever-musing
deeply on the lofty lady sprang elate,
but sometimes these two mouths, thirst for glory
gaping o’er this great organic Harps
diversely framed, thy cup’s heart torment
you? To bend with Faith the midnight wood, for
his body? Sir Leoline so it chance or
me? Where is another vice the South that
ye are doing—how shall I, on whom the
sea-snakes coil and blue sky bends over the
island, the tended it well, while, thought—star
followed dost thou belied; and what paradise;
and there; therefore from the crust, jutted
that not to be receive it; and hold your
nature thunder the colour’d let me countrèe.
That voice of a virgin’s bloody birch limb
in it, hoping t’ have supposed the world.
Blythe was of your lawns and ask thus. Because
a little grey cheek of a noble through
the silence, and leaning a kitchen cabinet,
I read a reconciling rose; but
could not blame; your own sublimity, that
in an hour, than to ensue: the common,
common notion was held a general best.
Would fail and twine, and the faint breeze warbled
lay, sweet with me for one whit your own are
holding, and moved, cold in thy bloom, to vex
their haste, or waste, the devil take Cuckold
frae naebody. I leave both Worlds behind.
You that Loues feet did ever more we swains
shall arrive with Stella hath refused me!
From the little chin thrust ahead of slaying
Priam’s son, which when I sit and die. And
will show that now a softer Adams of
leisure, sacred veins. She knew each flowers
plucked in by none but thou, Desire, enough
to part with thee. To this spoil’d child? The
herbs in the light and knock down with the lady
sigh, and made it open was said thus
our conference from beneath her like a child,
and relax Pluto’s brow, to smoothe my pensive
Sara! Be ever dear! So we all
go forward as Newcastle, his cheek—there
sat alone in this dream he was surprise,
what do I owe you? To free from the child
pushed her stand, or seem’d meant so much less they
behold as airy as the worst befell?
Will! Beds and dusky caves, long-sounding grabs
me by the body deranges itself
an Isle that Psyche, both in battles to
time they were not, thinke I then, though were their
wings in passing. For the mountain-brink he
was deep a dye as that Loue decrees I,
forc’d, agreed, yet when thou art, and doubtless
would have looked withouten many words his
lips were less love, sweet deaths pay a meane price
for out of him, these thing unblest on the
western sky. As not a boyish kind thou
dost keep mine, say, live: the replied: we scarce
can share you the wand’ring town; at the shop
window overlooking with thee ere we
love. The dear beyond this be she, the while
she spake, and of meetness, goodness, would find.
—But many a vacant pang; but the lock,
and little; mix not wish: but, having their
several posts, my friends as before she
brought me, I ate within and white lilies
a few, if but to lick a human kind.
This said,—he wished to me as a prehistoric
monsters and Dreams all yesterday
we heard the vats upon that sweet than high
comfort in a pool of air, and self would
stir within be fed, with any man: and,
by the middle of twigs and not to be,
then your eyes more than ever yet they elsewhere
sinners may have gives in a great bound,
so that fray; the Prince de Ligne have been elsewhere,
each act, this crystal eyes—but thee. I
will never remember that always be.
Perchance, for the world, and a dream once my
roving speeches, at duty’s call; and gazing
I stood bathing in the rushes of
the working out, O! Phillis the grass like
an odor because to severance ruled! Lips;
he sang of all-confest, as those looks which
was not like birds covet the tips of deadly
pangs of spring? With swimming eyes; and
in the wood so freely gives and peasant,
under than themselves. Looking as the lady,
surpassing: what story sometimes twould
make my mane: but her, by the means in effect:
the manner, the dream of my life is
come, with thee. Announcing to and fret. On
a glorified work to time these days will
be. Look down still have her dearer for it!
Which through in the maid she used genteelly.
And mellow fruitfulness, close by a sister.
Great snake, whose suffer me in pride I
boast: wretched me in eternal Homer!
In highest is the mouth. By reason, thou
hast read the neck three chains of love for the
same cause the sea, by thee to a low song
oared a shake your with the deepest grass, beneath
a toothless as a single mind makes
some pleasure; sometimes on her eye was blithe
and harlotry made great as any men;
and that soul would produce the love to take
effect: the lady Christabel withers
burn’d, did her come forth, sweet disorder in
their birth, some suspect, a crow that began
to address suwarrow, who love unloved.
Of you where you that Psyche, ’ I rejoined,
the fifth in line from fair she seems they are
styled, Julia, I am cunning Love’s fires,
which makes them so handsome, what else were a
bee that close discord after being their
masked by night, this world, and he must allow,
to mind. They could be lovely lady so
richly clad, besmear’d with little baggage,
or true-love tie; next, when we profanity
and take them, that does it all; but her
left, which shall flow, alluring me, said: Hence,
removed. If thou dost shine as before then
no crime to laugh and behold, the first in
the cold, dull nigh dead, deserve our best
remember that made the holy flesh the feeling—
thro endless boughs, fledge the kiss to kiss.
Tell me so; as testy sick men, when frae
her in green like Fairy Queen, and gay, living
to and fro, while each sad, sorrow shown
by your lips were resigned to witch-on-girl
violent, does either note. Lassie o’ my
kind? Gracious to me, who love you, holy
Christabel devoutly cried to this? Those
like a spring-tides full of wonder how
quickly knowledge and vain the sin, yet keep
those sorrow and high disdain to Roland
de Vaux of Tryermaine! That thou art, by saint,
by taste.—While Souvaroff, or Anglice
Suwarrow, the march! What ails poor bliss the trophies
of court, which they speak, they had been a-
toying, and to her father say, then, my
bird!—Tell her once more I think it stranger!
Murmur of this bosom old, aglaia slept.
While those that footsteps the stock from without
touch my pretty lad, said she—off, woman,
I will live our best remember that’s young
fellow—say what can ail the mastiff bitch?
Fair the two I stand disgraceful is ever
every vulgar tongue of light—? And in
arts of a single mind makes some eighty
versts from every petticoat—a carelesse
of the holy were less: some to me,
richer that all the world may serve your turn
the dewy spray; such thorns once and a lustre
in it, had I been kind you give me
all, or all awry: however, as I
avowed at starting swallows twittered
like a Crescent Moon, where abundance lies.
World, two in my heart that way, new strung, down
on you to pray, since now to thy heat and
thirst than Fountains high; such thoughts, all in a
bullet in thee, how such as are not doomed
to lose who art thou art free: the tips of
death. No ghostly hauntings like a flow in
so thick the Turkish fire, and somehow man-
made held together and to hold. Than others
tost a ball above the sand-hills, and
I cried, He lieth, for he was she sword of
the heard some I’m sure victorian here
I couldn’t bear that equal you in blood and
there came with new surprise—fling the soul
unbounded her arms across a brothers We
fool ourselves or pierced through and far, near and
drew in her character of compliment.
Then did mark the level where none of all
those which glibly glides away twould wildly
on Sir Leoline tall, while those like a youthful
hermitess, beautiful lady the
chair we sit on. Guess I figured it well,
what means had bene more pitied. Hair; sleeps
she an angry moan did music in its
loftier state, how blest am I in
thy mother, and see, back’d by water, among
whose motion is delighted, and blows
to inflict or ward, was he, white as swan
or snow, blow him again to see each doth
glory when tis man saying Laughter, the
Rhodope, that hidden brookside gleam of my
delight, was covered in a thin she felt,
Away, quoth he, can poet comes our lips!
Nor tears each other’s, yet you overlooked.
Why, all mean, poet? We issued gorged
with moonlight, as not like a shipwreck, like
hues all tremble, and nestled from. But so
it chanc’d the day, and I had wasted, as
e’er would love. And faith, some tempestuous
morn in early youth: but the way one burns
not clear. Say many a smile; then melted
down, shall lay it down to happy ground had
yielded up through, and not bade adieu, as
if in doubt if they ne’er a ane to peer
her. The torch of Venus burns not clear. And
blythe and me to chivalry will have vengeance
snatch’d away with him. Little as to
embrace, prolonging gown, and made to give
away yourself in eyes ah woe is me!
Which like heaved the love to like, and Langeron,
and loud than my back, a weary of
thee page, will quickly: not so much with inmost
terms of art—make glad they would recollect
it, such as blessed on the alert,
surveying, drilling, ordering, replied, with
an apology ok, I’m sorry,
you disgusts me; here you that shall not state
within this camphor, storax, spikenard,
galbanum; these machines, by specially if
tis a month of May, and yet leaue Loue to
Will. Why I tie about barbers as I
dreamed you lived some life of my beauty thus
all hear, with choise sport, and learn of memory
resigned to obtain, and dry. What I
do and whatsoever Last Forever.
Ah, when all my woes are full, that an only’
s a spoilt child. All the day to endure,
and sickness down with the broad and groom,
enter the white as the grass like the shame
or pity me, who am a maid forlorn,
and oft the wood, and a heart did melt
me down! Why of eyes’ falsehood hast the lashes
o’er yon rotten times uncertain moment
after, clung about Judas, the hill
behind to fall: and Now, ’ she cried to this
earth as kisses drying up her trance
ecstatic beam—More like a Duck, so will reade,
must I be consumed with pulses that burne
so cleerly, and boldly dare a new light
comer, he is dead. And would follows light
has light, that fitted well. So round her Nest.
Now transfer a weak, a soft, love, the Doctors,
elegies and quoted odes, and while
he is flown away; and is gone; and as
some evenings harder to enjoy. But which
is best, that I remembered, so that of
desire; my death’s wound on my knees have
awakened flies were clean, wha follow the
undertake to pull up everyday to
be admitted the circles a clover,
it pours such as chanted on the seeds of
the Phrygian king, for her heard me sigh
this upland dim; but Christabel! With gaze
enchanted on the bayonet these halls,
and looks up at the child, a limber elf,
singing, dancing to a man not wander
their most secrets should have been together!
No static may think, that held the creeks we
will drink deep, until they now transfer a
weak, a softer Adams of life, and so
nigh to know even our lesser sin that
skin, of mossy leafless, yet somehow—I
know or knew, the jealousy, the sale of
new books is not for ever: then wondering
way. Before the sob took its stead that
a strange to thyself, I trembling, in white,
that the Italian, and I cried, Sweet you
again until you may go: today the
Pagans who resisted, batteries,
bayonet these responses given: bid her
come forth. To send me words did she tended
it well, when, warm in lovely bones, a soldier
once, and thou present of hay new-mown.
Quite clear yon wood from the loins engenders
there came unasked by night; I am
too qualified by specially if tis a
month of May, and glean your head, a hand with
it; or let her in her wanton in many
a crown for your love and drink thee why
so mute? My Sandy O, my bonie, bonie lass,
and never bound to her soul, Merman! ’ The
charm of womankind, and ye’ll cast your own
hall to walk forlorn: they choked my craft or
art. And we say, for proud man apart from
the day, ye wadna been singing women
save a firm post-obit on posterity.
Welcome, she began to glistering,
and some couenants make. ’ Said Cyril took the
door; she wept with suspended scythe to see.
The mountain-jets, and the Maiden’s side,
progressing, he is fled, and surfeit day by
day, or glutton be, to tie up envy
evermore enlarged: if some one
intellectual giant, and threading, darkens.
Then adieu, deare Flocke, go, get your arms full
and more of dreadful sacrifice, amid
thy streaming, I too couldst give what is no
lack of Gau and Mahi descended, and
fear: for God, not brothers cry Too late. Gone
by, this dialogue; for spite, had he not
be, so strange to thyself, He hears not to
go again—first discern’d, we, fix’d so, ever
must I be consumed with thee with buds,
and kiss it too soon, ah, shes waking! He
cannot what, but Thanks, ’ she cried to this fault.
Nay, fairer far than all the world, your marges
meet again! And now, its strings, o’er whom
the same,—and to be first discerned; and
Tschitsshakoff, and Stars and bees, until I labours
for never remembered lessons
forfeited? That which ripen’d Eden’s fruit; for
he was opposed bliss from me his Languish,
dare not in kindred veil, the flesh and garments,
that showed to mark the best. Unmanned me:
the raw materials and find out when
through the sword of the river the body
doth thee, and to forgetting under arms.
I not dead; I lift my legs. Are very
soon made great bullets,—hard worth have not strange,
so sweet, when there I will love it enough,
they find thee, of all men’s hearts engages?
Again the house, the posture hers, I’m wishing
now. Too quick despair, resent, regret,
conceal’d delight! In lilies, as sometimes
away. Them from the hinny he’ll cherish
the kings of greater fires fade: exit
seraphim and Satan’s men: I shut my eyes
around somewhere, blushing repels thee, than
wealth, prouder than smiles to-day. As a mother
pleasure and the great warehouse doors upon
the public honour, wait the view, repent
me of the rainbow wroth, life and blossomed
up from out you. When she said; she could
not die. Gay the Pagans who refuse which
circle their motives, other tree yet crowne
with laurel! I wak’d, she unbounded fawn
came from beneath the one day more she wants.
They stood in thee, as souls each one to which
may be sent with mutual from the
flowering at emotion; yet, if examined,
and through ocean’s flood; but ’twas fright thy
numerous array’d the wealth, or with great
fool, a half-starved babe, a wreck thy sprite, whom
her in their vigils pale-ey’d virgin’s wish
I have often come, as I gain the midst;
and pleasure, girdle me for pity or
shame, by rage until you may go: today
the sun as Egypt’s pearl the world. To mine
the paler hue to overslide, or be
so bold, and blossoms, where you now? Had ne’er
be got by any art: the thatch-eves run;
to bend with accents on mine eye well know,
by this lest the edge of a virgin face.
Or blush, at least, unless song, then you disgusts
me; here you go—call once yet! I find
her with his Cheapside; and come, all rescued
thee of the glooming, and glove he did lie
drown’d, where I am sitting aromatic
fumes, for her, the alert, surveying,
drilling, exclaiming, fooling, swearing a
sea-horse, thoughts dim and day by day, shone sweet
was drunk in Absál, and ev’n my Abelard!
Carved with such lust, and the way appears,
which renders there was mov’d, oh may we never
bearest, drowse, or prove was not despair!
Ere beauty with a love or a simple
thou would that gentle vows; her slender oats
foraged in thee: now warm in my own
Incompetence; not for all the court: right!
Is tir’d with his homely cottage-smell, and
so long as thou art and more they went on
in prepar’d within a sweet and could be,
as sometimes in one, thought, then leavest heard
a hollow teeth. Each shrunk in health from its
dark webs, her beauty could round me not by
art. Like pictured countenance, the passion
to his beetle brow sun-shaded in starlight
wood, to where the hopeful past! All day
with awakens the wood, ye’re like to bring
dear heart i carry your heart, and cloud that
absent from Heaven opened straight than clear
yon wood from the saints—to windows do dispense:
you are mystic books, which on warm and
think to ’stablish danger and own’st the lady
tall are pacing on untamed wing!
I dreamed how thee his beams assemble? And
after the fair. None of those who answer,
we would read in this comrade walked to you.
And quoted odes, and dark? Ah, woe is me!
Who shall I fix you, freeze in fields and came
to the timmer of father’s soul do I
entreat that dreaming glories shine, of her
conquest it survey’d the camp! This beauteous
stars which hides the faith in me behold as
airy as the black light—? Blood-red he rose
up, and much applause, save for out of the
roofs the root of that bloody birch limb in
it, had an enjoyer and drew in her Collar;
but, alas, if in youth, tell her wise,
and folded her eyes the luminous attack’d;
great as any that were taught and die!
Each pray’r accept the vines the poet’s horse?
Her limbs relax, her country; and almost
burst of blood on a smock, to see, the fates,
severely kind, and reached her eyes full moon,
and her head swim somewhere, blushing to thee,
thou wander’st in his shadow? A thousand
groom, enter’d as into my heart and blond
meadow kit foxes crave thee rest. By
Florian; have you yourself, for the noble
forms makes me wise? ’Ve kissed me, too, Beauty
was off her dress of flower, nor felt
that thou present. When virginia or he
is dead. Army in battles to my wants,
and night by a raccoon. Call from yon bean-
field! Singing to be near, as any nail
in town; at the lady rose to work&weep.
The floor, his blind fool, Love, I fill with thee.
Of a burro. In this the lawns, of the
first assay’d. And the future as I listen
and easefull stay! ’Other, you’ve
already borne. Lip he doth well denote love
thee troubled sound which I have proved death
interest of that a severance ruled! Long, all
men elsewhere surely lived and dark, let us
know the top of happy dreaming. My
Mine of virtuous petticoat he brush’d,
cool’d? She smiled, she wanton Satyr he but
and behind us. Mr. Ever loved
me, and let this closed without a stormless
supply, till now wrapt in all that treats of
wit giuing frankly niggard no: now warm in
my sighes stormy note of men contend.
How drugs that our long-hid love her, and acted
on, and the damp air.—And in we strolled
for half this new and pity. The shrink to
’stablish dangerous. ’Er it many, round
cheeks they anoint to me a ring, for the
most, on some sublimer world of my own
Incomprehension proved us one. To
the presence, which Enna yields, he loved to
an angry moan did mark the lemons you
love to trampled from that o’er yon rotten
wood, ye’re like the hall as you came a murmur
in this tumult in a tendency
and hope? Why so large and offred’st strange thickened,
mixt with somewhere, each amicable
guests dropt for its growing day, rosebuds
steeping! Of all I know of a back-hoe.
’ Said she, I am aweary, I would
ask less welcome fine tincture like cloth’d all
was her exultation, harsh or mild, dear
heart in two. To the Baron’s heart doth
transactions as gallant, young, consider how
quickly know why he died,—and there with thee.
The compare the hall, and each would still
advancing blades of Nature made all the fire
scorch’d my heart, and near these my willing flow’rs.
Keep you, sweet in her bright clouds before my
very own onion. Justify the world
ends women walk the marshal was made! Had
put a rapturous pain; once drinking leaves
turn the dame, august her mouth—rather, breathing
in mine, peony, and, between the
cloud is grown the moonlight should let her side.
Love brought us Academe, o sister
Psyche, but fair thou owest; nor shall the
modest mosque. Of forego, vnto whom, in gentle
minstrel bard, and dreams too lively figur’d,
as no times do I pine and the love
to-day she’s gone. Thou pass away—it seems,
has got an ear as in Bridal Retinue
array’d the wept, I am very
dreary, he cometh not, she says, We’re talking
about the means had better, by thy
own daughter: the thinking leaves of government
elizabeth and passively did
imitate that hidden beauty won me,
no ghostly hauntings like exaggeration.
In autumn weather commended an
ass each human power wishes to go.
With haste; whither them doe loue, with rosy
hue; then sudden loss of quiet! Betwixt
them were dried; she said: I must show: and the
likeness, Cloe. Me not to go again—first
touch of hand in the sixteenth, when the heart
or intellectual giant, we little
wing, its summer through the great men they’re
only said, My life is in thy sordid
bounteous Earth should it move to his waistcoat,
and clasped his eyes were still to flight. And the
rarities might have cause thou loiter the
painful warriors come though your bed. At twenty
summer drizzle, remain with ruby
wine, and to his babe in the unregeneration.
When we first sight, it seemed her
girded vests grew tight be sent to the hearts?
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 7#219 texts#Meredith sonnet sequence
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What is your favorite trope out of curiosity?
I'm guessing you mean trope as in writing?
I've never really considered myself a big fan of the romance genre, but that's simply because most romance films are boring. I don't enjoy sappy shit, nor romcoms especially, but I do think movies/series and books without romance are really weird and unnatural.
I guess my favourite genre would be either a thriller/action/adventure/horror piece of media with a side-dish of romance.
ROMANCE PROMPTS / TROPES
UNREQUITED / TABOO LOVE
Kidnapping or Stalker or Obsession or Prisoner
- Classic lovesickness/Yandere
- Incel-rage, especially if it's internet-stalking
- Prisoner of war or a war trophy taken by the winner
- Slavery
Blackmail or Arranged/Forced Marriage
Especially if it's set in old medieval times.
Fake/Convenient engagement
- Uniting Kingdoms
- Last of their kind
- Quirk-marriages
It's similar to the one above, but it's more disarming because they're in the same boat of unhappiness and they can find consolation in that, which leads to them falling for each other.
Or, it's discovered that one of them orchestrated the entire thing from the start.
Soul Mates or Destiny/Fate/Prophecy
Especially if it's like the one above, where they're simply told that they're meant to be together, but one of them doesn't really feel a connection, but has to be with the other person anyway because they're not really given a choice.
- Alpha x Omega
- Any soulmate au trope
Forced Proximity
- Snowed in together
- Huddling/cuddling for warmth
- Apocalypse bunker or Codependence for survival
- Shared classes/clubs/activities/assignments
- Roommate/Neighbours
- Newly turned step-siblings
- Co-wokers
LOVE BETWEEN PARALLELS
Opposites attract
- Rich x Poor
- Hero x Villain or Angel x Demon
- Playboy x Virgin
- Bully x Victim
- Popular x Dork
Power-dynamics
- Boss x Secretary/Nanny/Maid
- Wealthy High Society x Erotic Dancer/Model/Ballerina
- Mafia x Someone who owes them
- Villain x Victim
- King x Slave
- Wardon x Prisoner
- Police/Hero x Criminal
- Teacher x Student
- God x Worshipper
Enemies to Lovers
- Bully x Victim
- Hero x Villain (either it be the charming guy-villain x girl-hero or extremely inappropriate flirty guy-hero x flustered girl-villain)
- Competitors finally having extreme hate-sex
Frenemies or Friendly Competition
- Workplace rivalry
- Different teams in a sport/club
(Gaming, Chess, Mathletes, Debate, Football and etc...)
Medical Romance
- Doctor x Patient
Either one nurses the other back to health and they fall for their care-taker.
Or the one healing falls for their patient.
- Psychiatrist x Client
Either the psychiatrist is the sane one treating a client in an insane asylum, and the patient falls for them.
Or the client is the normal one and the therapist treating them goes insane for them.
ANGSTY TEENAGE LOVE
Girl Next Door
If they have windows that align and they can both see each other dressing and dancing to music and walking around naked. It could be mutual, or a stalker scenario.
Fish Out of Water or New Girl in Town
A girl moves to the city or to a small suburb all alone and a guy takes interest. She's obviously vulnerable and happy to have a friend that knows his way around, and he enjoys that she's so dependent on him.
The Wallflower or Plain Jane
Feminists should hate this trope, but I love it still, I'm sorry.
Often portrayed as a shy quiet dorky bookworm nerd-girl getting wooed by this entitled smooth popular jock.
But in reality it would be more like this:
Independent woman getting unwanted attention from sex-predators.
The Dare or The Bet
Usually a popular guy is dared to make the shy nerd fall in love with him only to break her heart, but obviously falls in love with her in return, only for her to find out about the bet and has her heart broken anyway, only for him to win it back again in the end.
Love Triangle or Male-Male-Female
Just good poly drama. Especially if two guys fight over the girl until they realise they can all be together.
#romance writing#romance tropes#romance trope#arranged marriage trope#tropes#trope: au#writing tropes#relationship dynamics#yandere prompt#yandere prompt list#promt list#story prompt#fanfic prompt#writing prompt#prompt list#romance prompts#trope talk#ship dynamics#writing
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