#I hope she has a tag she’s such an interesting non-character

[largemandrill]

Nanaya baby you are kinda scary to take pictures of low-key hahahaha jkjkjk please don’t hurt me

Like I have this completely unfounded fear that she’s going to wake up and kill me in real life like some kind of creepypasta

I tried to get headpats with this one. Getting to her includes being covered in blood dw about it

[zevranunderstander]

hate how scared modern liberal movies are of making characters of color into antagonists of any sort? like i know it depends on what kind of story you want to tell, but if it's a "colorblind" story that's just like, "regency era, but diverse" or whatever and all of the people of color are the kind supporting cast, just go fuck yourself I'm sorry

[jenscx]

HIT ME UP — uchinaga aeri

aeri’s never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friend’s instagram and why is she so pretty?

tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric

wordcount 6.0k

🎙️ author’s note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi 🤍 can’t express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!

uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesn’t really count the situationships or talking stages she’s had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.

something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isn’t that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesn’t think she’s asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities she’s met lately. even jimin can’t help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.

because aeri loves everyone, as long as they’re pretty, she’s been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she can’t really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.

needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.

and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeri’s latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date she’d been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.

(“oh… maybe i shouldn’t be friends with her either,” yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.

“do you think she’ll burst into flames if you tell her you’re a scorpio as well?” jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)

anyway, so what if aeri’s luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and it’s not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. she’s been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesn’t have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.

okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isn’t enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, ‘we’re soulmates’ type.

not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan aren’t aeons apart, aeri doesn’t really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesn’t feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.

she’s getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but she’s sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.

jimin [6.19pm]:

omg guys

i think i just met the loml

holy shit shes so cute

im in love

can sm1 find her @

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

who

jimin [6.20pm]:

uhmmmmm

minjeong?

her cup says that

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

are you serious 😐

jimin [6.21pm]:

STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME

AAAAAAA

aeri [6.22pm]:

girl shut up

she throws her phone aside as jimin’s cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasn’t going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole ‘i don’t need a man’ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.

jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.

aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.

“uhm, hello?”

“oh my goodness— what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!” jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.

staring blankly, aeri repeats, “hello?”

“hi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl and—”

yizhuo’s voice cuts through, “does it really count as meeting her though?”

aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, “no, but that’s not the point. the point is that she’s really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.”

“you think we can find it?” yizhuo asks, unamused.

“well, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!” jimin’s logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jimin’s assumption would be right.

“what was her name again?” aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.

jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, “minjeong! isn’t it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl… heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?”

aeri isn’t too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jimin’s boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.

a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, “i found her!”

and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.

“c’mon, ningie! please!” aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girl’s instagram? definitely not aeri.

yizhuo only huffs, “i want something in return.”

“anything! really!” the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, “mj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.”

aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.

“oh my gosh, thank you!” jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuo’s cheek.

“how’d you find her instagram?” aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, “my friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.”

aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, who’s still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jimin’s devotion to find this mystery girl’s instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.

hence, she peeks over jimin’s shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, it’s well-fitting, surprisingly.

“she does look like a maltese,” are aeri’s first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, “i know right!”

“oh, she’s really cute,” aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isn’t planning on competing in some competition for minjeong’s love alongside her own best friend.

“she’s friends with a lot of unnies,” yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, “nayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnie— well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? she’s friends with her too.”

jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, “but they’re all friends only though, right?”

yizhuo nods, “yup, i haven’t heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.”

her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.

with aeri’s words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeong’s posts and hastily scrolls back up.

“check her highlights too,” aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. it’s full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.

then, jimin clicks on one that’s named ‘solos’ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeong’s feed is nice, aeri thinks. it’s clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.

when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeri’s jaw visibly drops.

“oh my god,” she gapes, snatching jimin’s phone away into her own hands, “who is that?”

“hey! give it back!”

“stop it!” aeri swats jimin’s hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lips— oh, aeri might be in love.

she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.

“oh shit, do you think that’s her girlfriend?” jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.

yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jimin’s phone, sneering, “close your mouth, both of you. she’s y/n.”

aeri jumps into action at her words, “you know this girl? who is she? what’s her name?”

“calm down, damn.”

“sorry— this is the literal love of my life?”

jimin frowns, “that’s what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.”

ignoring jimin.

“i don’t know her, i know of her,” yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.

“just stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or she’s in the comments,” jimin suggests.

aeri hollers, “you’re a genius!” it’s her first time saying that to jimin.

through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.

mj_0101 been away

view all comments

1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all

↳ mj_0101 photo creds to my bae

“bae?! jimin— oh my fucking god!” aeri screeches and thank god they’re in jimin’s room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeri’s been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.

equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, “of course the pretty girls are dating!”

“guys, i just said they’re only friends.”

“and how do you know that?!”

yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.

“because i know them, duh. y’all are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls it’s like your ability to think disappears.”

well that, aeri can’t disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeong’s story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.

as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, “stalk her on your own phone.”

begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girl’s instagram. it’s pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeri’s heart clench.

“fuck,” she groans, feeling her throat choke up, “she’s so my type.”

jimin nods in agreement even though aeri’s sure she didn’t hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).

“you think she’s into girls?” aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairo’s one right at the front.

“maybe. i don’t know her too well. i heard she’s kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.”

aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.

“aeri-ah,” jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.

“yes?”

she gulps, swallowing harshly, “if you text her, i’ll text minjeong.”

yizhuo hums, “you two do that.”

she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? who’s insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? she’s not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.

god, she needs you biblically.

“okay, let’s get girlfriends!”

she doesn’t text you at all. it’s a little embarrassing to admit but aeri’s scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldn’t get her ego bruised like that. and jimin’s no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.

what she does do is first of all, create another account that’s completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri can’t help herself from viewing it immediately.

and maybe she shouldn’t have, since she’s seething by the time yizhuo texts her.

yizhuo [1.43pm]:

hey guys…

has any1 seen y/n’s story?

jimin [1.44pm]:

minjeong’s account is burned into my screen

but no ☺️

aeri [1.44pm]:

i’m gonna kill myself

jimin [1.46pm]:

😨⁉️

she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.

what the actual fuck.

her phone rings— she picks up on the first ring.

“so…” yizhuo starts awkwardly.

“what’s going on?! aeri, don’t kill yourself?! you’re my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeri—”

aeri cries out, “she has a girlfriend!”

the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jimin’s forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.

“WHAT?!”

“she just posted a photo of her kissing some girl’s cheek!” aeri screeches.

yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, “her girlfriend’s pretty though.”

“not the point— also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!”

jimin frowns, “you can still be friends with her, right?”

“well… i was going to try to hit her up first,” aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadn’t even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasn’t a homewrecker.

“maybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,” yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.

“jimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.”

“what?! i’m not ready!”

“it’s just a text! like her story or something!”

jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, “wait, don’t tell me you have been liking all her stories?”

“okay, maybe i have! that’s not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! i’m way farther in this than you are—”

aeri hangs up. she can’t deal with a gloating jimin right now.

she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.

swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. it’s a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.

with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.

she types out, ‘omg where is this?’ it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe you’re at. it’s a rather popular one that she has visited herself.

before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.

god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.

within seconds, there’s a reply that makes aeri’s heart soar.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

it’s winters village in hongdae!

you’re really pretty btw

score! aeri’s got this in the bag!

she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.

aerichandesu [2.10pm]:

omg thankuu 💗

you’re super cute too

you don’t reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. you’re online. but why aren’t you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesn’t pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.

she can’t let a girl plague her mind! aeri’s better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.

aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldn’t even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.

“girl, i think you have to stop,” yizhuo says one day.

“stop with what?” aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuo’s talking about. jimin’s head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.

after swallowing, jimin giggles, “your little thing with your girl.”

“uhm, what?”

“i think you’re creeping her out,” yizhuo shakes her head, “if i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.”

aeri pouts, feeling admonished, “i haven’t texted her in two days. she isn’t interested.”

“oh thank goodness,” the chinese girl sighs in relief, “i thought you went all joe goldberg on her.”

“i’m not joe! and i would never do that to someone!”

“well, i was worried anyway.”

jimin nudges her shoulder, “there’s a lot of fish in the ocean, right?”

rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jimin’s side, “imagine if i said that about minjeong.”

“why would you ever say that about minjeong?” jimin furrows her brows, “and i actually texted her.”

aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.

“you did?! holy shit, congrats dude!”

jimin looks away, sheepish, “i replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i don’t know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so i’m thinking of bringing her to bowl.”

genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesn’t remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just weren’t in the same classes.

“guess it’s just me now, huh?” aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.

jimin pouts, “you’ll find someone better.”

aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that she’s never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.

yeah, she doesn’t think she will.

aeri’s totally fine. she’s gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and she’s okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeri’s determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.

(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)

yizhuo had applauded her ‘getting over’ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeri’s glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and she’s over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.

jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesn’t know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jimin’s paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.

what jimin doesn’t say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.

coincidentally, you.

hence, aeri’s sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.

you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jimin’s friends.

“this is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,” minjeong informs you, “but i don’t think we ever crossed paths before.”

“no, we haven’t,” you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. you’re still a little confused as to why aeri wasn’t talking right now.

maybe she thinks you don’t recognise her? but you do. she’s the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.

“nice to meet you too,” you grin, “nice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.”

you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasn’t she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?

“shall we order?” jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.

you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.

y/n bae [7.24pm]:

is smth wrong w aeri?

mindoongie [7.24pm]:

uhmm idk 😓

idt she’s usually like this

jiminie said she’s quite sociable

awesome. so that meant you were the problem.

resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, “what are you currently studying?”

“oh, i’m doing fashion design,” she answers, twirling the knife.

“that’s interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?”

yizhuo chuckles, “i’ll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?”

“i’ll definitely pursue something in modelling but i’m studying medicine right now.”

engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeri’s pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what you’ve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.

“y/n, are you dating anyone right now?” yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, “ah, no. not currently.”

in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.

spurred on, aeri asks, “do you have time to date while studying?”

“hm, it was manageable,” you reply, “it got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.”

aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.

you wonder why she asked that.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?

for taking care of my best friend

aeri blinks at the message. it’s the first time you’ve texted her first.

aerichandesu [10.43pm]:

sure

she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesn’t feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.

1eeyn [10.44pm]:

thank u aeri chan

aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.

1eeyn [10.45pm]:

we didn’t get to talk much, huh?

aerichandesu [10.45pm]:

no sorry

i wasn’t feeling well

it feels like the safest lie she can tell.

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s a shame

are you feeling better now?

aerichandesu [10.46pm]

yes, i am

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s good

rest well aeri-chan 💗

oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!

over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didn’t know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeri’s nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.

(“she sent me a selfie! of her face!” aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.

jimin grimaces at the blood, “well, yes. selfies are usually of someone’s face.”)

then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.

aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri can’t believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.

how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“no scary movies please,” jimin begs, tugging at minjeong’s shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.

“you like scary movies?” you whisper to aeri.

she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jimin’s reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.

“nooo not the conjuring please!”

aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jimin’s apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when it’s minjeong’s turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.

“don’t worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. she’s just playing with jimin,” you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.

“oh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!”

“minions and despicable me are two different movies!” yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will end— with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.

a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, “they’re cute, aren’t they?”

aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeong’s fingers are interwoven even though they’re arguing.

“yeah, silly but cute.”

you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeri’s under the blanket, “we can’t lose to them, right?”

she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.

“no, i’ll never lose to jimin.”

your laugh makes aeri’s cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.

aeri’s heart feels content.

she’s happy here, being friends with you.

unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesn’t last for long.

after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. you’ve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows you’re busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.

photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you weren’t working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. she’s busy during the day, so she doesn’t really check her phone often. when she finally does, she’s welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.

she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.

then, one day, the messages stop. aeri’s a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothing’s there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.

but when she wakes up the next day, there’s only a lone message asking for her to meet you.

aeri agrees, yet she can’t help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.

after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeri’s suffering from y/n drought.

you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, you’re already there, seated and deep in thought.

“hey,” she greets, ���slept well?”

you didn’t, but you nod anyway.

“did you have a shift yesterday?” aeri asks as you order your regulars.

“uhm, no. sorry i didn’t text you, i was busy doing something else.”

“nah, it’s fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.”

you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, “are you good? you seem a little off.”

“i’m fine!” your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.

“so, what’s up?” she finally asks.

you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, “i just wanted to talk.”

“mhm, sure.”

“i wanted to know… well… uhm, if you were still interested in me,” you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, “wh-why? what— what do you mean?”

you inhale sharply, “i know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?”

aeri withdraws her hand, “uh, why?”

furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, “please just tell me.”

“uhm. well… yes? but why—”

“because i’m interested. and i want to find out if the feeling’s the same,” you blurt out. aeri’s eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasn’t racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.

“if you were interested before… why didn’t you say anything?” aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “i was dating someone at the time. it wasn’t right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.”

aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.

“i’m sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldn’t message back with the same eagerness,” you explain.

“no, it’s fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didn’t like me back.”

“we became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.”

aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her ‘friends to lovers’ trope after all.

“i hope that now, i can take you on a date?” you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.

“yes, obviously. you’re my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met you—”

“oh, is that why you were so quiet that night?”

“yeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss and—”

you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.

when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.

maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.

thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:25」 — l.minho

» stray kids menu | lee know menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ alien!Minho × fem!Reader wc: 5.4k summary: After Minho’s return to Earth, Y/N has spent the last year traveling the galaxy with her alien boyfriend. While exploring a tropical moon orbiting a massive planet in a binary star system, Y/N accidentally disturbs a cluster of bulbous purple luminescent flowers that release a glowing purple dust that sticks to her clothes and skin. She returns to Minho’s ship hoping that the dust isn’t toxic and will wash off but as she soon finds out, the dust is a very sparkly and very potent aphrodisiac and it has a profound effect on not only her, but on Minho as well. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: *eminem voice* guess who's back, back again. That's right! alien!Minho from Ninsa is back! If you haven't read the first part, you don't have to but you can find it here! This is gonna make y'all soft but only at the beginning. Things are gonna get hairy for our favorite alien-human couple pretty quickly! So glad to be visiting this au again. I love alien!Minho so much )): tomorrow is the final piece for Stray Kids and is also a sequel for Han's part from last year! Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. 

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), sex pollen (f receiving, m receiving), breeding, mild dirty talk, biting (f receiving), minor cumflation (f receiving), impregnation kink, use of pet names (hers: baby, sweetheart, love, cute shit like my star, etc.; his: babe, Min, Minmin, etc.), dom!Minho, sub!Reader, slight brat!Reader. I think I got all of them, but let me know if I missed any! kinks: Sex pollen + breeding dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Baby… you need me that badly? ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

A soft breeze blew through the trees, the leaves rustling and dancing overhead as you hiked through the dense grass. Glancing to the left, you noticed the sky starting to take on a darker hue. You pulled your sleeve back, checking the dial of your watch that read it was getting later in the day.

You should be heading back; you were heading back. It wasn’t entirely your fault that you kept getting distracted by the scenery. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen in any science fiction movie or show. The lush forest of the alien moon, orbiting a massive desert planet, wasn’t something you could have ever imagined. Minho had said the planet was called Kojar 6, orbiting a large star called Kojar which was part of the Kojar-Faline binary star system. There were 7 planetoids, Kojar 6 being the largest of the pack with two moons.

You had wanted to visit Kojar 6 but Minho had explained that there was nothing on the planet anymore. Nothing but sand being whipped around by the intense winds. Winds that could potentially rip a person to shreds. There were no people, no buildings, no animals on the surface. Only sand.

He promised the moons were much more interesting.

The first moon was an icy wasteland that reminded you of Hoth from the Star Wars series. Minho refused to land there, calling it a frozen and barren wasteland like Kojar 6 only instead of sand, it was ice and snow. That moon was called Ciyebos. The second, the one you were currently visiting, was a tropical world called Zocunia. It was a lush, vibrant jungle world not unlike that of Pandora in the Avatar franchise.

The flora and fauna were both incredibly unique, with very few predators. The few that did exist, you were confident in dealing with should you come across them. Since bringing you along to Ninsa, Minho had been insistent that you learn to defend yourself as he couldn’t always be around to protect you.

Much of the flora was incredibly beautiful, looking like something out of a fantasy world or a science fiction movie. Vibrants blues, purples, greens, and even turquoises, and pinks. Back home, on Earth, the more vibrant something was, the more dangerous it was. On other planets, that rule didn’t always apply.

As you continued to trudge through the knee high thick green grass, something round, bulbous, and bright caught your eye. You froze, turning your head to find nestled at the base of a tree that extended tens of feet towards the sky was a cluster of plants.

You carefully walked over, stepping over exposed roots and boulders. As you reached it, you knelt down, inspecting the plant. You’d long learned not to just touch things after contacting a rash from a flower that looked incredibly pretty and harmless. Minho luckily knew a remedy and was able to get rid of it with relative ease.

You instead raised the camera in your hands, a gift from your alien fiance from his world that he’d given you on your one year anniversary. Your phone could have worked for pictures but the device would only survive space travel for so long whereas this device was much better designed for space travel.

You snapped a few pictures, the shutter clicking as you pressed the button with the flowers in focus.

Looking up from the LCD display screen of the camera, you inspected the flowers with more scrutiny. 

They were glowing, having some sort of bioluminescence that a lot of flora on this moon seemed to exhibit. An evolutionary trait, Minho had explained when you first asked him about it.

“Much of this world’s flora has evolved to glow at night. It’s both a defense mechanism and a hunting tactic. Half of the lunar year, this moon is bathed in darkness, hiding behind Kojar 6. The bioluminescence lets the plants still feed and ward off predators at the same time.”

You loved listening to him as he seemed to be full of knowledge you’d never be able to learn on your own. He’d promised to take you to the libraries on Ninsa when you eventually landed there. Minho had promised that he’d take you to his home world, let you see his life and be part of it.

It took Minho three years to return to Earth and find you after you left Derry and your old life behind. He asked you to travel with him. To leave Earth behind and travel to Ninsa with him. He explained how the three years apart had been hell and he didn’t want to return to his home without you.

The opportunity to travel was one you wanted more than anything so you didn’t need much persuasion and readily agreed to leave behind your life to be with him. To see something far beyond what anyone could ever dream of. It was all you wanted more than anything in the universe.

It wasn’t long after you left Earth that Minho professed his love for you, asking you to spend the rest of your lives together to which you immediately said yes. You had been on an alien planet, enjoying the sunset when he asked you out of the blue. He didn’t have a ring to give you but he promised that the moment you landed on Ninsa, he would get you one.

You tilted your head, looking at the translucent membrane of the bulbous flower, a slight swirling inside, visible only due to the bioluminescence source deep in the center of the plant. As you leaned closer, the light started pulsating and you instantly drew back. “Alright,” you said softly. “Time to go.”

You snapped one more picture before shutting off the camera and pulling at the lens cover to place it back over the lens but no matter how hard you tugged, it wouldn’t come loose from the holder. “Goddamn it,” you grumbled as you tried to pry it off. “What the fu- oh shit!”

Just as you were pulling, it finally came loose but slipped from your grip and fell onto the flowers, bouncing off the bulbous membrane and falling to the ground. You scrambled to pick it up, snapping it onto the lens and looking up with wide eyes as the translucent flower trembled. Before you could draw back, the leaves popped open into a five petal flower, a cloud of sparkling purple dust exploding from the pressure trapped within.

You stumbled backwards sputtering as you waved your hand, trying to diffuse the dust and coughing. ‘Fuck,’ you mentally cursed, looking over your clothes, noticing the glittery dust had settled and as you tried to brush it off, it only seemed to spread more along the gray body suit Minho had given you.

You looked around and sighed before getting to your feet slowly. “Guess I’m gonna need to shower,” you whispered to yourself and started the walk back to camp where the ship was. You could use the outdoor shower Minho had set up for the two of you and hopefully he could grab you a spare suit from the ship.

You used your clean hand to rub your nose, a tickle settling in as you headed in the direction of camp, hoping whatever this dust was that it wasn’t toxic.

Minho took a deep breath, keeping his eyes forward as he watched the third bhunqoi hop closer and closer to his trap. He’d managed to capture two already and needed a third for dinner. The small lagomorph-like critter turned its head in his direction and Minho froze, hoping he hadn’t been made but when it took one more hop, falling into his pit trap, he knew success.

He sighed a breath of relief, getting up and pushing the leaves blocking his body from sight off and making his way over to look into the pit. It would seem the animal landed in a way that ensured it did not suffer. Minho hated hunting but sometimes it was a necessary evil for survival.

He collected the animal and moved back to his hiding place, grabbing the cloth bag with the wild fruits and vegetables he’d gathered before heading in the direction of camp. He’d allowed you to go off on your own and explore the perimeter surrounding their camp, making sure the stakes were still standing after the storm the night before.

He knew tropical storms on Zocunia were bad this time of year which is why he chose to pick a spot in the forest instead of on a beach or grassland. The trees provided an extra shelter over the ship, not that the hull really needed it. 

He’d upgraded his ship upon returning to Ninsa after leaving Earth the first time, ensuring that in the event of any more spontaneous crash landings, the hull would still remain intact. 

The Kojar was starting to set, bathing the landscape in an orange-ish golden glow, shadows becoming elongated and more pronounced as he finally reached the ship. His foraging hadn’t taken him far from camp, and hunting had brought him closer as he tried to stay within the perimeter.

Minho reached your base camp relatively quickly and immediately started a fire and prepared the meat for roasting while wondering where you could have gotten to that you would still be gone from camp. He tried not to fear the worst, knowing he prepared you for time on your own but he couldn’t help it. This was an alien planet and while most of the animals were docile, he really didn’t want another incident like the alien wolf encounter.

You had spent a couple days on a beautiful alien planet with him where he couldn’t hold himself back and asked you to marry him when you both returned to his home world. It had been spontaneous and spur of the moment but he meant every word when he said he never wanted to be without you again. 

He wanted to start a life with you on Ninsa, get married, buy a house, all the domestic things his friends were starting to do. He wanted all of that with you. Children was another topic you would have to have at some point because while he knew you were biologically compatible, there were other ways of having children. Other ways of starting a family.

As he set up the bhunqoi to roast in the flames, he sat in one of the chairs he’d set up and waited for you to return while he peeled and prepared the fruits he’d managed to forage. He was sure the conversation would happen sooner or later and when it did, things would be much clearer on where you both stood.

You were getting closer to camp as you walked, noticing the small signs you set up for yourself as you trudged through the forest. “When did it get so hot?” you whispered, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. As you walked, your body started to feel hotter and hotter. Almost like you had a fever.

Maybe it was the dust you’d come into contact with but you couldn’t be certain. Minho would know more. You just needed to get back to camp. ‘Almost there…’ 

You stopped briefly to lean against a tree, letting out a pant as your breathing started to increase, your heart rate rising as well. You weren’t sure what was going on and you really hoped whatever was affecting you wasn’t some sort of toxin and that you might be able to sleep it off. 

Reaching up, you unzipped the neck of your bodysuit down to the top of your bust, letting out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit your skin, a thin layer of sweat starting to form. It wasn’t much but it was something. You pushed off the tree, starting your hike up again and hoping to reach the camp before the sun set, despite the very pretty bioluminescence.

Your panties were starting to stick to you and though you hoped it was just the sweat, the heat settling in the pit of your stomach told you otherwise. You couldn’t understand it. You were alone in the middle of a jungle on an alien moon. What could possibly have worked you up so much when Minho was somewhere else entirely.

You tried to push the images of your fiancee from your mind as your body started to burn and ache for his touch. ‘Just to help me feel better. Not because I want to fuck or anything,’ you told yourself. You just wanted the heat to end and your body to settle down. ‘Minho will know what to do.’ 

Minho’s ears picked up on the sound of twigs snapping and looked up, seeing a form moving through the shadow of the canopy, a smile forming as you entered his line of sight, ambling along. His silly, clumsy, little human fiancee. He watched as you finally emerged from the understory, a smirk on his face. “Welcome back,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

His smile fell immediately as you stumbled forward, nearly falling. It was then that he noticed the feverish look on your face. There was no way that was good. “Y/N, sweetheart?” he asked, voice laced with concern as he got up and started to walk over, crossing the distance to catch you as your knees gave out. “M’okay,” you murmured, fingers gripping his biceps as he held you up.

“Like hell you are,” Minho growled as he helped you back over to the ship. “What happened?” he asked, helping you into a chair by the fire. “I-I don’t know,” you breathed heavily, swallowing the lump in your throat. The burning sensation had spread, an ache settling between your thighs, the gusset of your panties was beyond soaked by this point and you knew it wasn’t from sweat.

Minho pressed his palm against your forehead, clicking his tongue as he measured your temperature in the most basic of ways. “You’re burning up,” he noted. “You need to get in the show--” his voice trailed off as he noticed a purplish glittery dust on your clothes. Glancing down, he could see that it had transferred to his hands and clothes. “What is this?” he asked, glancing up and noticing the dust on your cheeks and nose.

“I dropped the camera lens cap into this cluster of flowers,” you panted. “I took pictures of it,” you added, pointing at the camera case. Minho shook his head. “Don’t worry about that right now, my star,” he said softly. “Let’s get you into the shower.”

Minho helped you up, leading you over to the outdoor shower he’d set up and helped you peel out of your suit before heading for the ship’s entrance, taking your suit with him and putting it in the wash. He stripped himself, adding his clothes to the wash as well and changing into some spare clothing.

Once back outside, he returned to the fire, turning the roasted bhunqoi over and sitting back.

He was thankful he’d taken the suit off as he started to grow warm. He sat for a moment, the heat settling in his senses, spreading throughout his body. It was a burning desire unlike anything he’d ever felt before. ‘What is wrong with you, idiot?’ he berated himself. Was it the thought of you being naked in the outdoor shower? It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to being intimate with you. 

Since leaving earth and setting a course for Ninsa, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you at all. It was nothing new. So why was he so hot right now? His thoughts were interrupted as his eyes fell on the camera case and got up, crossing the distance to grab it and unzipped the pouch, pulling out the camera and pressing the button to turn it on.

The screen lit up, displaying the brand logo before going black, a little window popping up to remind him that the lens cap was still on. Minho ignored it, opening the gallery instead. He scrolled through the photos, a small smile on his face as he saw what you had seen.

He cleared his throat, feeling his pants tighten. ‘What the hell?’ he asked himself as he looked down. He tried to ignore the obvious tent growing in his pants, uncertain of what was causing it. It’s like his body was acting on its own accord. The thought of joining you in the shower crossed his mind and he grimaced. ‘This is hardly the time,’ he told himself as he tried to push the thoughts aside.

He returned his focus to the camera, scrolling through the pictures until he stopped on an image of the flowers you must have been talking about. They weren’t like anything he’d seen before. The bioluminescence was familiar, but the translucent milky membrane and the swirling purple glitter inside were not.

‘Is it some sort of toxin?’ he wondered, zooming in on the picture to inspect it. Minho turned the camera off as he heard the outdoor shower turn off and set the device aside, getting and grabbing the spare clothes he'd grabbed for you and walked over.

You pulled back the curtain, peeking out at him. Your eyes were glossed over, not unlike when he had you spread out underneath him. “I brought you some clean clothes,” he said softly. “And this.” He held up a clean towel. You thanked him, taking the towel and dropping the curtain back in place as you wrapped yourself up.

“Did you bring any shoes?” you asked, pulling back the curtain and looking up at him. Minho nodded, holding out the slides you'd brought with you from home. You thanked him, slipping them on and stepping out of the shower. The cool air felt nice against your burning skin, heat still coursing through your veins and pooling in your belly. 

Minho tore his gaze from the exposed skin of your shoulder, trying to ignore the way the droplets of water rolled down your skin. He handed the clean clothes to you before reaching his hand up to feel your forehead. His hand was warm against your skin as he pressed his palm against your head. “You're still burning up,” he murmured.

He took your free hand in his, raising it to press a tender kiss to the back. “Go inside and lie down. I'll come get you once it's done.” You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Mm,” you hummed. “Come with me.”

Minho chuckled, taking your face in his hands and raising your head. “I'll burn dinner if I do that,” he said with a grin before leaning in to press his lips to yours. He intended for the kiss to be soft, gentle. What he hadn't expected was your reaction.

You leaned into the kiss, pressing against him and moaning. It made his cock twitch against his pants and he had to force himself to pull back. “It's getting chilly out here,” he murmured, rubbing your arms. “Go inside and get dressed,” he added, gently pushing you in the direction of the door.

You grumbled, almost getting what you wanted before Minho took it away. Begrudgingly, you made your way into the ship, the door shutting behind you. You walked over to the bed, setting down the clothes and slipping off the slides. As you started to unwrap the towel, an idea planted itself into your head.

You'd just have to deal with it yourself.

Minho pulled the roasted bhunqoi from the fire, inspecting it carefully. Pleased with the results, he removed both from the fire and got up, setting them aside as he made his way to the ship. The whole time you'd been inside, he'd tried to calm himself, tried to will away the intrusive thoughts of following you inside and having his way with you. 

He still didn't know what had gotten into him but the longer he tried to ignore the intense burning desire to fuck you, the stronger it got.

The door to the ship opened with a soft hiss, allowing him to step over the threshold. Once he was clear, it shut with the same soft hiss and Minho walked further into the depths of his ship.

“Dinner's ready,” he called, turning the corner. “Are you feeling any--” he trailed off, eyes widening at the sight before him. “Better?”

You were sitting on the bed, towel still wrapped around you as you looked up at him, eyes wide. Your clothes lay forgotten on the floor. It wasn't just that what had made him freeze up. It was the fact that your hand had disappeared between your thighs.

He'd walked in on you in the middle of touching yourself. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes dipping to your hand that was currently being squeezed between your thighs and back up to your face. Your glossy eyes looked back at him, a pout on your lips.

“M’sorry,” you whined. “I thought I'd be done before you came in. I'm just so hot. I couldn't take it anymore!” Minho felt his pants tighten as his cock strained against them, aching to be buried inside you instead of your fingers. He'd heard you, but his mind went blank as the scent of your arousal hit him, his rainbow irises flashing once before shifting to purple.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered. Your heart jumped into your throat before settling back in its place, hammering against your ribs. “Wh-what?” you asked as he walked over. “Spread your legs,” he repeated, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, eyes dipping down to look at your thighs and then back up.

“Now.”

You did as he said, slowly spreading your thighs. Minho grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your sex and inspecting your fingers coated in your own arousal. You watched as he glanced up at you and back at your hand before taking your fingers in his mouth, groaning at your taste. “You thought you'd just get yourself off in here when I'm right outside?” he growled, dropping your hand and grabbing your hips with both hands.

You let out a gasp as he scooted you closer to his face, your ass barely sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thought you'd keep all this to yourself?” he whispered, licking his lips as he eyed your pussy. “As if I wouldn't eat you out the second you asked me,” he added with a scoff. He leaned in, licking up your sex slowly, eyes shut as gently savored the taste. He groaned, pulling back to look at you.

“Lie back,” he said, bringing a hand up to push against your shoulder, dragging his fingers down to loosen the towel and free your chest. “M'gonna fuck that fever out of you.”

You leaned back, propping yourself on your elbows as Minho lifted your thighs over his shoulders. He buried his face between your thighs, making you cry out, head falling back as he immediately went for your clit. You were already so wet, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching to be filled.

“Min, baby,” you whined, moving one of your hands to comb through his hair. “You know I love it when you use your tongue, but I really need your cock.” Minho groaned, the lewd sounds of him licking and sucking your clit would normally make you shy away but right now, you didn't care. You really just needed to be fucked.

“Minmin,” you cooed, combing through his hair again, fingers knotting in his hair as he flicked his tongue against you. “Please, baby, please give me your cock,” you whimpered, hips moving in tandem with his tongue. He pulled back, looking up at you with those bright purple irises, his lips and chin coated in your arousal. “Aw, baby…” he murmured, fingers skimming up the inside of your thigh. 

“You need me that badly?” he asked. You nodded fervently. “Yes baby,” you breathed. “Please.” Minho couldn’t deny you when you begged so sweetly. He could get used to that. You, lying on your back before him, begging him for his cock.

“You think you can take it so soon?” he asked with a chuckle. You scrambled up, letting the towel fall to the floor as you turned away and bent over, knees spread on the mattress as you all but presented yourself to him. “Yes,” you replied breathlessly. “Want it so bad. Take me.” You could see your boyfriend's eyes gloss over as he was face to face again with your sopping cunt.

“Fine,” he growled, getting to his feet and ripping the shirt off over his head. “No prep, but I don't want to hear you whining about it later,” he added as he hastily unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them along with his underwear down.

His cock sprang free, softly hitting your ass as he grabbed your hips, the tip already leaking. He spat into his hand, coating his length with it before guiding the tip to your hole. Letting out a groan, Minho cursed in Ninsan as he pushed deeper into you, his grip on your hips bruising.

You whined, pushing back on him as sheathing more of his massive cock inside you. The stretch was unlike anything you'd experienced with him before. There was no pain though. Minho stopped and you groaned, finally feeling full. The satisfaction didn't last long though and soon the heat was spreading again.

You needed to be fucked and you needed it now.

“Minmin, please,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”

Hearing your soft cries for him spurred Minho on, forcing him to pull back, half of his cock sliding out before he thrust into you, filling your cunt in one motion. He choked back a moan, nails digging into your skin as he hissed and cursed again. “So fucking good,” he moaned, thrusting again, making your body shift forward, even with his tight grip on your hips. “Taking me so well.”

“Minhooo,” you whined as he set a steady pace, pumping in and out with measured thrusts. “Don't hold back,” you gasped, walls clenching around him. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Minho groaned, head dropping as you squeezed him. His hips stuttered to a halt. “You can't be serious,” he panted. “Angel, I don't wanna hurt you,” he continued. You shook your head, your skin burning and a thin layer of sweat already coating your body.

“God damn it, Minho,” you snapped, looking over your shoulder at him. “Fuck me like you mean it. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk!” Your tone must have flipped a switch in your boyfriend and he let out a growl, one hand moving to your shoulder and forcing your chest down against the mattress.

Without answering you, he started to thrust faster, hips hitting your ass with renewed attention. He'd been holding back, not wanting to injure you but when you snapped at him like that, it made his mind go blank and the only thing he could think about was fucking you.

Well, fucking you and breeding you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped as he leaned over, now both hands on your shoulders as he kept your chest against the bed, ass up and bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck, feels so good,” you moaned. Minho said nothing, grunting in response as your walls gripped him tighter. “Shit, yes. Just like that!” you mewled, feeling the head of his cock bump into the soft spot inside you, making you see stars.

“Hng, right there! Don't stop, baby!”

Minho let out a growl, hips never faltering for a moment. “God, yes, holy shit!” you gasped, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. A rush of euphoria swept through you but Minho wasn't done. He'd slowed down, fucking you through your orgasm but as you came down from your high, he kept going, hips smacking into yours, the sound of skin against skin drowning out his pants.

“Min, baby?” you moaned, sliding your arms under you to push yourself up. “No,” Minho growled. “Not done!” You let out a moan as he pushed you back down. “Breed,” he growled. “Need to breed.” You groaned loudly as he continued to thrust into you quickly.

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed you,” he hissed. Your fingers dug into the sheets, moans turning into cries with each harsh thrust. “Breed, breed,” Minho murmured. You felt his cock twitch inside you, letting out a wanton moan as he slammed into you from behind. “Mm fuck!” he cursed. “Breed, breed, breed,” he chanted softly.

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pleasure both overwhelming and incredible. Your thighs trembled as a second orgasm loomed. “Th-that's right,” you groaned, playing into his words. “Breed me, Min, fill me up. Put a baby in me.”

Minho let out an animalistic growl, fingers curling over your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as he somehow thrust even harder and deeper, making you scream into the sheets, your own fingers curling into the linens. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you heard your boyfriend snarl. “M'gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so much.”

“F-fill me up, Minho, please!” you cried out. “Fuck me. Make me your breeding bitch, Minho. Do it!” Your boyfriend let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a growl and a groan, thrusting into you a few times more before you felt the warm gush of his load spilling into you. “F-fuuuck,” you groaned.

You could feel his cock pressing into your cervix as he pumped you full of his cum. At the same time, you felt the base of his cock swell. ‘Well that’s new,’ you thought as you lifted your head. “Whassat?” you mumbled, letting out a groan as your walls stretched around him.

“S'okay,” he mumbled, leaning down to press kisses all over your shoulders. “Have to keep it all in,” he added. You only then processed that he was still pumping you full of cum. “Minmin?” you asked, trying to push yourself up but he quickly and gently pushed you back down. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Just lie still, baby,” he continued. “Have to stay still. Just for a little while.”

You felt your belly slowly start to swell, more cum filling your walls than you'd even experienced before. You felt one of Minho's hands move to your belly, just under your navel where it had swollen slightly. “Have to stay still, yeah?” he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Stay still and make sure it takes.”

“Make sure what takes, Min?” you asked softly.

You felt him rub your belly soothingly, his cock twitching inside you. “You said breed you,” he reminded you. And your eyes fluttered shut. “Minho,” you sighed. “We aren’t compatible,” you added as a reminder. You felt him press a kiss to your shoulder. “I know,” he murmured.

“But imagine if we were,” he whispered in your ear. “Imagine what cute babies we’d make.”

The idea of a mini hybrid of you and your alien lover made you smile, a soft sigh escaping you as he continued to press tender kisses to your neck and shoulder. Your eyes opened and you turned your head slightly to glance back at him, resolved to play into his fantasy.

“What if it doesn't take?” you asked softly, a slight pout on your lips. Minho reached his hand up, turning your head more so he could kiss you, pressing kisses to your lips quickly. “If it doesn't take,” he muttered in between kisses.

“Then we try again. After all, I'm still hard and have a lot more cum to give you,” he added with a smirk. “Wanna go again?” you asked, clenching around his cock. “Just to be sure it takes?”

Minho chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slowly pulled back, the swelling at the base of his cock having gone down. He gave you a tentative thrust, ignoring the gush of purplish liquid that spilled out of you and ran down your thighs.

It didn't matter if some spilled out, not when he was about to fill you again and again and again. Even if it wouldn’t take, he could dream, right? After all, he figured out halfway through the first session that what you'd come into contact with was an aphrodisiac and he knew it would be a few more hours before it finally wore off.

He’d better make the most of it.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[deedeeznoots]

You’re? Correction! I’m Yours 

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, GN!Reader 

➺ Word Count: 900+ 

➺ Genre: Fluff

➺ Content: Non-Curse!AU, Nerd!Sukuna, Established Relationship (with some pre-relationship sprinkled in), Swearing

➺ A/N: Shout out to my wonderful mutual @heian-era-housewife for this post about Heian Era Sukuna doing poetry. If she’s reading this: I hope you don’t mind the tag but your post seriously inspired a huge chunk of these headcanons 🥹

➺ Synopsis: Headcanons of all the nerdy things Sukuna does because deep down inside that’s all he is and all he wishes to be ❤️

➺ At first glance he doesn’t read as someone who would be super nerdy or all that interested in learning. 

➺ I mean, can you blame anyone? No one really expects the dude constantly looking for a fight to pull up with some textbooks during his free time.

➺ Once you get to know him though, you realize that on the inside he is in fact a giant nerd about basically everything.

➺ It starts off subtly: at first you’d ask him questions and he’d be able to easily come up with answers without even giving it a second thought.

➺It could be a question about anything, regardless of the subject or perceived difficulty, and Sukuna would be able to explain it to you. Not only that, but he’d be able to explain it to you in a way that made it sound like the simplest thing in the world. 

➺ At one point you basically just started playing trivia and just started asking him stuff normal people didn’t know the answers for and he’d answer with ease, albeit he’d get really annoyed with your constant random questions.

➺ Sometimes if he’s really excited about a subject his explanations would turn into full lectures that’d put most college professors to shame.

➺ Although it was shocking at first, it started to make sense when you realized that the main reason why he takes time to learn about stuff is because he’s constantly bored and looking for new things to entertain him.

➺ He’s good at basically everything so long as it piques his curiosity, but his one and only love will forever be literature, mostly because of how infinite the possibilities are with the medium.

➺ He’s well versed in literature of all genres and different cultures, but he is the most drawn toward Japanese works (and let’s be honest, his favorites would probably come from the Heian Period).

➺ Ever since getting with you, he’s been leaning more toward the romance genre. Just in case he needs any inspiration on how to spice up your relationship, you know? 

➺ He’s taught himself multiple languages just for fun and to see how far he could go.

➺ He LOVES poetry, he both writes and reads it a lot and it’s his favorite hobby besides eating.

➺ Other than literature, he also has a huge fascination with art.

➺ He designed his own tattoos because he wanted to play with the idea of turning his body into a canvas. It also just so happened to make him look intimidating as hell which was a plus in his book.

➺ He also has a little journal that he carries around and he sketches a lot whenever he’s bored or sees something interesting.

➺ As for styles, he’s a really big fan of Sumi-e painting because he’s allergic to color but he basically just uses and does whatever he feels like at the moment. 

➺ He’s the type of person who draws what he sees, but he would especially enjoy drawing nature. 

➺ He would go out on hikes whenever he felt the need to draw and would walk until he found something interesting. 

➺ He’s really into meditation while he draws and he uses sketching as a way to keep himself level headed during particularly annoying days.

➺ He isn’t too fond of drawing people, but you’d be the exception. 

➺ He would 1000% draw you while you sleep. It’s the perfect time since you’d be still for most of it. 

➺ Sukuna is able to write really good cursive and also does calligraphy because he got bored one time (shocker) and so decided to see if he was able to do it well and to no one’s surprise, he was eventually able to.

➺ The reason why he leans towards the humanities so much is because they’re both subjects no one can really “master”. With both art and literature, there isn’t a point where someone knows absolutely everything about either subject. Since Sukuna loves a challenge, he wants to be the first person to go “Fuck you, I DO know everything about this”.

➺ One of the little things he does every day includes writing you short little romantic poems on a post it note and leaving them in out random spots for you to find. 

➺ Sometimes they would be in your pocket or other times on the bathroom mirror, wherever it is they would make you smile. 

➺ Though, sometimes he would stick them onto such odd spots that you’d wonder just how he did it?

➺ He has TONS of pride in his writing (to be fair, he’s prideful about basically anything he does) and he always appreciates it when you mention his little notes and complement the work he put into writing them.

➺ Sometimes when the both of you are talking together he’d say some of the most poetic sentences that you’ve ever heard like it’s nothing. 

➺ When you gasp he just goes “What? Why are you staring at me like that?” as if he didn’t randomly drop lines that sounded like they came from straight out of a novel.

➺ He’s a dick when it comes to spelling and grammar, especially during petty arguments.

➺ “How many times do I have to tell you, if your going to the restroom put the damn seat down afterwards” ➺ “It’s YOU’RE*, actually” ➺ “Fine, YOU'RE** a piece of shit Ryomen!”

➺ Don’t fret though, because while Ryomen Sukuna wants to know anything and everything there is to know about the world, he knows deep down inside that the best thing the world could have ever offered him was you.

-

➺ Edit: Okay I made this story quite a while ago but I HAVE ANOTHER HEADCANON TO ADD! I think his observation skills are super on point which is how he’s able to understand things so easily

A/N: Everyone list what you think Sukuna’s favorite book(s) would be 🗣️

A/N: If you enjoyed my thoughts on Sukuna, you’d love this story I also wrote paired with some headcanons! 

[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with… a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ghostface! Ellie Williams and Ghostface! Abby Anderson with a chubby fem s/o

+ featuring some slight yandere and explicit themes (these are dating headcanons to specify)

A/n: Hi again lovelies! I didn't expect the last one to blow up so quickly so I'm back to writing, honestly every note, like and reblog encourages me to do more and do better so thank you for that. I honestly didn't expect to write something a bit gory after writing mostly fluff so this'll be interesting. Reminder English is not my first language and I'm trying my best, I hope you enjoy:)

I'll possibly add more in the future if I have ideas :3

Meet my cousin y'all: @rabblebite

Disclaimers/Warnings: Slight yandere like behavior???, violence, gore, knife kink, gun kink, stalking, suggestive themes and language. Characters may be a bit OOC (but you already know this, it's ghostface)(the chubby part is just a little add on so there's actually not that many headcanons regarding that)

If you wish to be tagged, please comment that you want to be or follow so that you'll be updated also: Rules for requests

Ellie Williams dating inspired playlist made by me

Ellie Williams

The first time you met Ellie was a bit of a blur. Let me elaborate...

You were new at the school, first day and all that cliche shit. Bell rings, you run to class. You found yourself in a seat next to a girl, auburn hair and freckles. A few times throughout the class you made eye contact and smiled a few times.

What you didn't know was that Ellie was already freaking out, can you really blame her? A pretty girl sits next to her and smiles at her, not only that but you even offered her a mechanical pencil because hers was flimsy and the led kept breaking on her. She thought you completely forgot about the pencil but did you really?

This was the start of her obsession over you.

After that day she stalked you non-stop, she knew everything. She even kept a small journal, writing down what you did and how she felt about it after.

Her sketchbooks were filled with you, aside from a few other things it was mostly you. There's at least 2-3 doodles on each page of either you or your name on her sketchbook.

May or may not have carved your initials on her guitar before you even started dating.

That mechanical pencil you gave her, she kept it, barely even used it after that so she can keep something of yours.

When she managed to get enough courage to talk to you again, she tried giving you the pencil back in guilt but you refused. You told her to keep it and did that woman worship that pencil.

You got invited to her friend group, which are Dina and Jesse and out of all of them, she hang out with you the most.

After a while, Ellie felt confident enough to ask you out and a sigh of relief for her when you said yes.

She has polaroid of you lying around everywhere in her room, you even stuck some on the edge of your mirror and locker so she'd see it.

Your pet names including: princess, bunny, sweet thing and pretty girl.

The night you found out Ellie was Ghostface was the time you were walking at the street just minding your business when you were pulled in an alleyway but some creepy 50 something year old hobo.

You kicked him off of you and tried to run and the man tried to chase after you. Only to have his mouth covered by a white cloth and stabbed in the back. Hastily running, you got pulled back by the black cloaked stranger and before you could scream, she took off her mask.

"Ellie?" You whisper in fear, you saw her drop her knife and hug you.

You were still in shock, after all you just found out your girlfriend killed someone, rather a lot of people.

"[Name]? Are you alright? He didn't touch you anywhere did he?" She asked, seemingly forgetting she was still wearing her ghostface get up. Lucky for you that you kicked him off before anything else happened.

You two talked it out and you understand her motive behind all of the killings however that doesn't take away from the fact that you're terrified of what consequences await her if she was ever to get caught.

Ellie is aware of what might happen when she gets caught so she does everything she can to make sure you are not in any way, shape or form involved if she was caught.

Even if it means for her to forever rot in prison, she'd rather keep you away than endanger you for being a witness or even a suspect.

She heard about you being flirted with and inappropriately touched by some Chad. After a few days he was spotted, gutted open at the school tree hanging by his clothes.

She'd definitely think it's adorable to see you with the ghostface get up, it's specifically tailored to her size so seeing it on you with the trim dragging on the ground makes her thing of like the ghost costumes with just a white blanket and she just thinks you're such an angel, too pure even.

I just can't stop imagining her with a knife kink, though she doesn't actually cut you with it. She loves the way you whimper and squirm when she presses the cold blade on your plush skin.

She gets off on blood, that being said once she's with you and you already know about the killings, she can't just let it slide.

Someone else's blood on your skin makes her feel all sorts of things. (You may or may have engaged in sexual things after her gutting people up)

Clean up after that is a bit of work so there's that.

Seeing you in lingerie and blood would make her lose all self control.

If you were to accidentally kill someone, she would not only help you clean up but she'll also take responsibility for the kill. She made it look like ghostface did it.

If you were to decide to join in the killings, she'd let you but with moderation.

For example she'll let you make the decision on who to kill or strategize the killings. Before you could even suggest someone who wronged you, they're already 6ft under believe me. Ellie easily picks up on how you feel about someone and it's not like you don't tell her.

She'd also let you watch the killings, either hidden or disguised but that's just how far she'll go. She doesn't want you to actually be the one to do the killing cause she's too paranoid you'll do something that'll cause you to get caught.

Abby Anderson

You met at the basketball court while you were sitting at the bleachers because let's be real here, Abby is a total jock and athlete, she seems like she'd be a gym rat too. (Without the red flags of one though)

You were sitting with your friends Dina and Jesse while you guys just catched up since the past week has been hectic, you even went so far as to gossip and think of conspiracies on who has been responsible for the reported killings by the killer they named ghostface. You looked at your phone, looking at the messages when you flinched, almost getting hit by a ball.

You open your eyes shortly to see Abby Anderson, the school's lesbian jock, who by the way is holding the ball that almost hit you. Anderson muttered an apology on behalf of her teammate who mistakenly threw the ball at your direction.

You told her it was fine and that it was and honest mistake when you know damn well you would've been far more upset if that ball actually hit you.

Abby just couldn't stop staring at you, I mean could you blame her? She felt like a knight and shinning armour when she just saved a pretty girl from a potential head injury.

She snapped back to reality when she heard her teammate say "Hey Anderson! Stop flirting with pretty girls and pass that ball back will you" Abby was a bit flustered by that comment because all and all she agreed to it.

On Abby's desk is carved your name and initials, she has gotten detention over it though I don't think the school is aware of how many desks have your name carved on them.

It took a while but Abby finally did ask you out, she approached you while you were taking a few things out of your locker. "So uhh, do you want to go out with me? On a date I mean..." She asked with her hand rubbing her neck, Abby was bracing herself for rejection.

You had to do a bit of a double take because the Abby Anderson is asking you out? You said yes obviously.

May or may not have stalked you before asking you out to find out everything you like to set up the perfect date.

Abby definitely has a polaroid of you both is her locker and gym locker. (There's one in her wallet too 🥺)

Your nicknames are: my cheerleader (because she knows damn well you've been to all her games and was there to cheer her on), baby, babe and pretty girl

You only found out that she's ghostface because she couldn't take it anymore and told you after seeing that you're scared of ghostface potentially threatening your life.

Poor baby was so worried you'd think insane if her after, let's just say she ended up loving you more for accepting the fact and understanding the reason behind the killings. (let's be real here any normal person would but not you)

When you first asked to play a part in the killings, Abby disagreed, no way in hell was she letting her girl be in danger both of the police and whatever else is out there.

She hates the idea of you going to jail more than she hates the idea of getting caught and facing the consequences.

But if you really want to then like Ellie she'd let you but with limitations. You're only ever allowed to watch when you are disguised and she'll let you stab a few every now and then.

Abby with a gun kink, Abby with a gun kink, Abby with a gun kink. Watch her get turn on when you flinch from the clicks whenever she pulls the trigger.

Despite Abby hating horror movies, she sure made a hell of a good killer.

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers : 1x01 - A Diamond of the First Water (Part 3)

Hi! Welcome back to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I'm taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton's character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Girls Like You

Jumping back in, we start off with a montage of suitors for both Daphne and Marina set to Maroon 5's Girls Like You. Usually, I have some great thoughts on the use of music within shows but this one feels... just like a fun little pop song to put to a montage? Most of the lyrics involve -- needing a girl like you -- and -- yeah yeah yeah. It's not the most profound song, but it works nicely for the montage.

Also, I love when they match the Featherington girls' dresses. I'd love the backstory as to why Portia is obsessed with citrus fruits.

As a nice touch, when the LW voice over starts, the camera pushes in on Penelope. I kind of love all the hints they give that LW is Pen -- it's incredibly obvious once you start looking for them. Anyway, Penelope is so devilish here. She loves the attention Marina is getting - not only because she finds Marina a nice person, but because it's pissing her mother off. I love that the LW narration is Pen's way of throwing salt in her mothers' wound. It's a bit wicked. And delicious.

What's somewhat wild, though, is that LW goes after the Queen about her choice of Daphne as a diamond. THE QUEEN! Like, that is bold, Pen. Incredibly bold. She even throws shade at King George, like wow. It's no wonder the Queen is obsessed to track her down. Pen's playing with fire here. But I wonder if she doesn't realize, yet, that there can be consequences to her words? I mean - right now, LW is almost like her journaled words being published -- unedited thoughts that aren't necessarily filtered, but are done so anonymously. The only reactions she's really getting are her mother's frustrations -- which she delights in.

It'll be interesting to watch the LW development as the show continues...

Courting I

Awww, it's our first real Polin scene of the show! And it's... like ten seconds long. But! Still plenty to dig through.

Colin's decided to call on Marina - I'm assuming he's the one (or one of the ones really) who brought her flowers. And during one of the suitor's atrocious poems, Colin's throwing Pen (and you could argue Eloise) looks. Like, can you believe this guy? Seriously?

But, no, I love that there's this layer of non-verbal communication right off the bat. Colin isn't just some random dude Pen has had a crush on from afar. They have an established relationship from the onset (which I'll talk about more in a sec) and how many times -- cutting through the ridiculous nature of the society they live in, do they shoot each other knowing looks.

They grew up together, and while Colin probably very much thinks of her as an additional sister at this point -- there's a comfort there that he can express how he's feeling over the situation to her.

A quick second about the dog - it took me a sad amount of times to realize that one of the suitors had brought it as a gift. It also doesn't show up after this episode (I think) so I really hope it's safely living at a neighbor's house after Portia decides to get rid of it.

Anyway... I was thinking about Eloise in this scene. Why is she even in this scene, she doesn't need to be. Well, actually, in a way, she does! First of all - we can appreciate Claudia Jessie's fantastic comedic skills (Btw - anyone else up for a buddy comedy with Claudie Jessie and Nicola Coughlan? Because I sure am here for it).

Secondly, it helps reestablish that Pen and Eloise are bffs. Which helps establish why Colin would otherwise randomly come up to talk to her after calling hour is over. This is the first episode of the series, and all of these relationships are being established. And it can be done without dialogue having to confirm it. It's all subtle, but it's better than the trap of over explaining things in expository dialogue.

Anyway, I want some backstory... How often do Eloise and Pen sneak over to each other's houses? They were children when they met - how often did Pen play over at the Bridgerton house? It's interesting that children are allowed some freedoms that once you get older, aren't allowed anymore. I have to wonder - if one reason that Pen and Colin are so free with each other later on is that because they they were children together, and probably played together as kids, they don't feel as bound by society's rules because they didn't have to when they were younger.

And now I just have all of these headcanons about a much younger Colin chasing his sister(s) and Pen who is visiting around the house in the way siblings do. And Eloise deciding she wants to take revenge, and she and Pen coming up with plots to play pranks on her brother(s). Think of Gregory and Hyacinth at the beginning of the episode, running around causing havoc. And I can just imagine that Eloise and Colin are a lot like that, too. And of course, Pen, who wanted to be away from her own family, from her own sisters who treated her like a disease, would want to be a part of it as much as she could.

Before I get into their exchange, a small, but important detail is what Portia says a moment before -- she encourages the young men to acknowledge her other daughters in hopes that someone will notice Prudence or Phillipa. But the way she includes Penelope's name -- "or even Penelope" -- it's an after thought. It's like, oh yeah, I have a third child I guess if you really want to acknowledge her, go ahead, but meh, who cares. It's so sad, really that Portia thinks so little of her at this point in time.

But then here's the kicker -- not one of these suitors even takes a glance over in Prudence or Phillipa's direction. But Colin takes a moment to full on have a short aside with Penelope. He makes it a point to go over to her to share a laugh -- because they'd probably been rolling their eyes at each other during all of this suitor business, and now that the official courting moment is over, they can have an exchange.

The fact that Portia is so blind to what goes on with her youngest daughter is the reason LW works. Penelope is left to really be on her own - and while that's devastatingly lonely, it also allows her a freedom that other women her age and place in society don't get.

Anyway, back to Colin -- and the fact that the first thing he does is seek out Penelope. He could address his own sister, who is sitting right there, but he doesn't. Because Eloise probably usually ignores him. Penelope doesn't. She latches on to pretty much everything he says, and that's gonna be a big deal for Colin (but we'll get there...)

Their exchange is only a couple of lines, but they're able to be witty with each other. Penelope mentions that the suitor is no Lord Byron (and -- guys, as an aside, if you want a wild time, look up the life and times of Lord Byron and the Shelleys. It's just... a good time...) Anyway, Colin's face subtly shifts in this moment. Her wit and intelligence is impressive, and he clocks that. It's why he keeps coming back to her - because they can share similar thoughts - but also she's deeply amusing on top of that.

And, oh, dear Penelope... Her eyes never leave him. She is just so, so gone. Not only is she just over the moon that he comes to stop to talk to her, not only is she gazing adoringly up at him during the quick exchange, her look lingers as he leaves. Of course, part of this is visual storytelling to show the depths of her feelings. But, we're beyond crush stuff here -- this girl has got it bad.

Seriously -- how does Eloise not notice all of this? I mean, plot purposes, yes, and the fact that Eloise is usually caught up in her own drama to really notice other things. But you'd think you'd notice your best friend being moony for brother after a while. Because, Pen, girl, you wear your heart on your sleeve...

Courting II

Before we get into the meat of this short, little moment - I have to mention the transition. In the scene before, Simon and Anthony were talking, and Anthony mentions that he's not worried about taking a wife because he has brothers... And we cut to this scene where Colin is courting Marina. And, I think it's a neat little transition because - we see Colin doing something that Anthony is actively not doing. Looking for a wife. (Or at least a romantic partner)

That's the thing about Colin -- he is a romantic. Unlike Anthony, whose position is different because he is the oldest and therefore there's more responsibility there, and therefore he'd rather not deal with it at all (and who has a ton of trauma going on in addition) and unlike Benedict, who is kind of caught up in finding himself more than anything, Colin (who is young still at this point) likes the idea of a wife and a partner and a domestic home.

It's one (of many - I'll get to it) reason he is so quick to propose to Marina. It's why he doesn't fuck around ages later when he figures out his feelings for Penelope. It's actually something Colin and Penelope have in common -- they both have a shared love of romance.

Okay, so onto this moment, I want to note the blocking of the scene. Notice how Penelope is on the floor, playing with the dog? It's purposeful! It positions her to reflect that she's still a child, or at least a child when compared to Colin and Marina on the couch, deep in their courting moment. It highlights the chasm currently between them -- something Marina will bring up later, that Penelope is still a child, a younger sister, not serious marriage prospect in Colin's eyes.

There's Lady Whistledown narration going over this scene -- where LW proclaims that Colin might be rewarded with the prize of Marina. And we see Penelope watching with a mix of emotion.

Penelope was having fun with all the suitors back when there were a ton of them and they were spouting bad poetry. But now that it's just Colin and Marina, the knife twists a bit in Pen's heart. She's playing with the puppy, as a way to pretend she's not that interested, but she's dutifully watching. And yes, a small part of it is her LW ways. A bigger part of it is to watch the development of this particular courtship. And, a third part of it is that there's a twisted sense of -- I may hate every thing about what's happening, but we're still in the same room together. She doesn't miss opportunities to be near Colin whenever she can.

The LW narration is somewhat brutal and almost petty. Pen is mocking Marina through the guise of carefully placed compliments. (Note - Julie Andrews doesn't oversell it the narration, but the hint of sarcasm is there.) Again, they did a great job at layering the narration over Pen's face, so we literally are hearing what she's thinking.

Here's the other thing about the narration :: 'It has come to my ears that Mr. Colin Bridgerton will win the grand prize when he sweeps Miss Thompson off her pretty, little, slippered feet.'

There's a lot in that little sentence. Pen is watching Colin and Marina laugh together. And that is hard for Pen -- because we saw it even in the first scene they have together. They laugh, have in-jokes, seek each other out and share cute, sweet little moments. Sure -- we know (or will be told) that Colin is flirty in general, he cracks jokes, makes people seem at ease, and is genuinely kind to everyone. But Pen has taken a lot of those interactions for herself, has buried them away as something special between the two of them.

Colin flirting out during promenades (or whenever) is kind of a distant thing. Pen having a front row seat to watch Colin lay his natural charm at a serious romantic partner is something else entirely. She hates it. And that's why she turns away, because it's a bit too much. And yet, she doesn't leave -- because she can't.

Also, ALSO! The - sweep her off her feet - comment in the narration. Marina will find Colin a bit fun, but it's a nice connection. And I do think she likes Colin. But she's not really swept off her feet. Pen was the one who got swept off her feet. I just... think they did a great job keeping up the duality of having LW be her own thing and having it really reflect Pen's inner thoughts.

So on that angsty note... one more post about the first episode to wrap it up, then we can move on!! See -- I told you there's a lot in this first episode!

[kimakento]

falling behind

this is a 100 follower special! thank you guys so so much for all the reblogs and likes and even just enjoying my works. i appreciate all the love sm and hope that i can continue to write for y’all :D

synopsis: the three times you choose shigeta harua and the one time you don’t. ⌙ 5.5k

pairing: shigeta harua x fem!reader

genre(s): angst (no comfort)

warnings: swearing, low self-esteem, mentions of divorce and slight family issues (please tell me if i’ve missed any)

tags: unrequited love, one-sided pining, taki cameo!!!, friend trio, non idol!au, highschool!au, harua’s fr down bad… title is a reference to laufey’s falling behind !! + a little of promise too if you look at the lyrics

a/n: i read this concept in a fic once and really stuck to it and wrote this in the process. this might actually be one of my favourite fics that i’ve written (i got a bit carried away) but nevertheless i hope you all enjoyyy

who were you to shigeta harua?

you were the girl who had saved him. well, not in a literal sense, but you were the one who solely occupied both his heart and mind, the one who he couldn’t express his feelings for coherently, the one who he was terrified of disappointing.

for him, you had totally flipped over his perspective of everything outside his bubble and changed his world for the better. the girl who’d broke him out of his shell. harua appreciated you for the beautiful human being you were. and he only wished you would take note of it.

the first time you chose shigeta harua was when you were both ten. he had always been reserved during your adventurous endeavours as children, the introverted boy would refuse to speak to anyone in class and barely had any friends. it wasn’t that harua thought he was above socialising, not at all. it was because he had never learned to make friends.

on the other hand, you’d always been surrounded by others; not quite popular, but still able to socialise and harua adored that about you. even as children, his eyes would glisten at you whenever you’d shift your desk towards your friends during lunch to have a hearty conversation.

harua was clumsy, to say the least. there would always be new grazes and bruises littering his skin during secret trips to the parks and playgrounds. one school day, he’d been racing around with a classmate that had wanted to become his new friend. during his session, disregarding a rock lodged in the earth, he tripped over and scraped his leg.

being the sensible one, you rushed over to help him up immediately to assess the injury. but as soon as you reached him you heard screams from your other peers, beckoning you to play; yet you ignored them and focused on the snivelling boy in front of you.

harua tilted his head down to meet your eyes as you were crouched down putting a bandaid on the noticeably painful graze on his knee.

you furrowed your brows when you met his unwavering gaze, “you ought to be careful, you know?”

only to receive a giggle in response.

“you said ‘ought’, ha!”

“teacher said that she has no more bandaids to give you. so i hope you’ll look where you’re running next time.”

since then, he’d been intrigued by your presence; harua wondered whether you know how much he cherished what you had done for him. stupid, yes. but it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. strangely, you were very mature for your age already.

at lunchtime, he’d wonder around looking for a place to sit and would often just be alone. this was a regular occurrence that you had observed as you too were interested in the mystery that was shigeta harua.

the distant yet bright boy who existed outside of social happenings. who was he? what was he like? to you, genuine was likely the perfect word to describe his character.

but what did you know? you were only a child.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the second time you chose him was during a class project.

shigeta harua had always wanted to be your friend but had never gotten the chance to, as if he would even take it. it was sort of a friend crush, if you will.

high school was particularly rough for harua; sixteen years of his life had already passed yet he still felt the same as he did when he was ten. harua was still the same quiet, reserved boy. as if not enough, school work had become more of a burden.

teachers had started setting group projects every week; the most important one being set by your english teacher being to review a unanimously agreed-on novel. the catch was that the pairs would pick each other themselves.

so there sat harua, fiddling with his fingers thinking knowing that he won’t be picked by another classmate; the teacher would pair him up like—

“would you… like to be a pair, harua?”

a soft voice interrupted harua’s train of thought and he lifted his head up only to be met with you, standing awkwardly in front of his desk. harua’s face etched into pure confusion and he looked as if to be processing your statement.

“wait, me? you want to be my partner?” he pointed to himself quizzically as you nodded.

“oh, why?” he queried again.

why would you even pick him, when he was too quiet to work with anyone? was this a prank?

with a deep breath, you blurted out, “you’ve been in my class for years, but i’ve never gotten the chance to, you know, speak to you properly. i don’t think any of us have.” another shaky breath leaves your lips as you finish. “i want to get to know you.”

the last part left him stumped.

“oh.”

“is that the only thing you say?”

as he lifted his arms in defence, a quiet chuckle escaped his mouth and a smile erupted on his face.

you mirrored his expression with a wide grin of your own, “you should smile more.”

another smile took to his expression.

“oh,” harua parted his lips to speak but shied away until you gestured for him to continue. “do you want to start the project at my house, or yours— or even at the library?”

the uneasiness in his words caused you to let out a lighthearted giggle.

“you’re so uptight. but we can do it at your place, i don’t mind.”

“cool!” his face visibly lit up. cute.

at the end of the school day, you observed harua leaning against the school gates, clutching the straps of his backpack and seemingly waiting for someone. with enthusiasm, he waved you over, accentuating the gesture. as you ran over you shot him a knowing smile.

“waiting for me?” the playful remark slipped out.

“let’s go to mine. you have everything you need right?” you nodded.

while setting off, harua would slightly sway against you as you walked together. a habit he’d never been able to get rid of no matter what. the walk to his home wasn’t long; only around ten minutes but when you entered, he offered snacks and water; insisting you’re fed while in his care. if only you noticed how eager he was to care for you.

that night, no work was completed, it was filled with you bombarding harua with personal questions; and him returning them with detailed responses.

tapping your chin, you hummed before posing a question, “what do you think is the best thing about you?”

nothing came out of his mouth for a while.

“even though i’m nothing special, my heart compensates for what i lack.”

“i agree,” you frowned at his words. “but i believe you are special. want to know what my first impression of you was?”

harua gave a hesitant nod of his head while sat crosslegged on the carpeted floor. his room was cozy— or at least more home-like than yours; many books filled the shelves that surrounded you both.

“i thought ‘oh he looks like a nice guy, but he’s just quiet’. i don’t think you’ve said more than like six words to me throughout the whole time we’ve been together as a class. but of course, everyone should value their privacy. i think it’s fine if you’re shier than the rest.” as you spoke, his eyes widened in interest while he nodded along.

a hand rubbed the nape of his neck, “i just don’t know how to make friends. striking conversations and then being able to keep them going is even more difficult.”

“you’re more than capable. i think you’re really cool.”

with glistening pupils and a hopeful glint in his eyes, he responded, “really?“

“of course.”

harua’s stomach felt funny— maybe the snacks he ate had gone bad. but why was his heart racing? perhaps it was the anxiety catching up to him. yeah, that seemed logical.

days transitioned into weeks and weeks into months as you both became impossibly closer. so close that your class would even refer to you both as each other’s halves, one refusing to leave the other’s side. in harua’s eyes, you were a blessing; he finally learnt what it meant to have a trustworthy friend — even if he couldn’t quite come to terms with the feelings he felt towards you.

it was like nothing could break your guys’ bond. there were barely any misunderstandings between you or any animosity really. a genuine friendship.

that was until feelings of love had kindled.

ever since he had come to know you; his whole world shifted. both his heartbeat and his faint courage — harua felt anew, motivated. it was as if your radiating smile and soothing voice were the remedy to heal him. to give him life.

like his world only brightened when you entered it; and his mind couldn’t even start to express immense gratitude that he felt. and that wasn’t a good sign as it only concluded to one thing.

shigeta harua was falling, and he was falling fast.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the third time you chose harua was in junior year. a book club had been announced to be recruiting members. knowing your friend’s love for books, you’d proposed it to him.

“i know you love reading books and talking about them so here’s your chance!” hands clasped together, you continued attempting to persuade him cheerily. “think of it as a way to socialise with other people too! that way you can have other friends that aren’t me.”

a groan escaped the boy’s mouth, “but you know, i’m not really good at making new friends.” exasperated, his hands make their way to his face in to cover it. “besides, i won’t know anyone there. that’ll make it even more difficult.”

determined to get him to join the club, you brought up a suggestion.

“i can join along with you! reading is also one of my hobbies so i won’t mind. while doing something i enjoy, i’ll be helping you in the process.”

face visibly lit up, harua smiled; you were always so selfless. he almost felt bad for allowing you to join with him. yet he couldn’t deny how much he’d enjoy being in the same club as you.

reluctantly, he nodded.

several days later, you both found yourselves in a classroom with a circle of chairs while surrounded by new faces — well not entirely new, you knew some, but harua definitely didn’t recognise anyone — while being briefed about the club activities.

one boy, fairly attractive, had taken the lead and spoke up.

“welcome to book club! i’m takayama riki, but you can call me taki, and i’m the leader of this club. this is only a mock meeting where we’ll be laying down the foundations and sorting out the books we will cover soon!” friendliness had radiated off of his presence which made him all the more easier to talk to. “before we start, i’d like to answer any questions you guys have right now.” his gaze scanned the room until it had fallen on your raised hand.

pointing to you, he spoke. “you. the pretty girl over there.” chuckles had filled the room from other members as you felt your face heat up.

clearing your throat, you spoke up. “will we ever get to pick the books that we go over or is it all already decided on?”

“eventually you will get to vote on the books. so i assure you to not worry.” taki’s eyes were locked on you as he spoke.

a certain brown-haired boy narrowed his eyes as he observed the exchange between you two and didn’t like it one bit.

a few minutes later, the briefing had ended and you’d been given the liberty to wander around. calling for harua, you held his wrist in your grasp as you dragged him from shelf to shelf.

“look at this book! i swear i’ve been looking for it everywhere. it wasn’t even in the library.” a pout had crept up your face as you whined while grabbing for said book.

with a smile on his face, the boy chuckled and parted his lips to speak before being interrupted.

“hi! i hope i’m not intruding on anything.” the voice was airy. whirling around you met taki’s face.

the boy had inched closer to you and held a hand out. after placing the book you’d previously had in your hands, he spoke. “nice choice, i really like this one too ….?” the words trailed

“ah!” eyes widened, you told him your name. after a nod of his head and a hum of approval, you continued. “i almost forgot. you’ve yet to meet my friend, harua, here too!” with a hand on harua’s lower back, you propelled him forward and encouraged him to engage in conversation.

“uh, hey. i’m shigeta harua, second year.” the boy stuck out a hand awkwardly, unsure what to do.

taki returned the action and shook hands enthusiastically. “oh, i see. it’s nice to meet you! i hope you’ve been enjoying our club so far.”

“i do, i really love literature and enjoy talking about it even more.”

a grin made its way to your face as conversation flowed naturally, happy that harua was finally gaining confidence.

jokingly, you interrupted, “is this some type of boy-bonding thing? you seem to be leaving me out.” the laughs that protruded from them only weakened your expression. “would you wanna get some food with me and harua?” you turned to taki, smiling when he nodded eagerly in response.

eventually, taki had been added into your mini friend group. all three of you, close-knit as ever.

or at least that’s what you thought.

ever since taki had joined, a certain other boy had started to feel somewhat excluded. it didn’t help that he seemed to share all the same interests as you or that your conversations would last a millennium whenever one uttered a word to the other.

worst of all, taki seemed to have feelings for you. just like harua.

harua has never wanted anything really — he wasn’t picky nor spoiled. there wasn’t anything he’d pine over but he wanted you. he needed your attention, your love — just you. the boy had always received loved by his family at home; a plethora of it. maybe harua was simply bewitched by your never ending generosity or the fact someone as pretty, funny, smart and perfect as you paid even a fraction of attention to him.

lame, he knew.

obviously, it wasn’t like you didn’t notice the growing distance either. they say ‘ignorance was bliss’, but for harua, the weight of your emotional and now-physical absence was becoming harder to bear.

that’s why he began to try; harua started to engage in the hushed conversations between you and taki, tagging along to regular hangouts and the lot. despite all his attempts, it never seemed to work. the bridged gap only grew wider and harua was struggling to stay afloat.

the feeling only ate away at him more each passing day. and he couldn’t bear it. so he asked to talk. with you. alone. in private. and most importantly, without taki.

mustering up all his courage, the boy texted you to ask if you could come over; to which you replied affirmatively.

so there you were, sitting on the beanbag in his room. your expression was laced with perplexity, and your eyes had a certain glisten to them. opposite you, harua fiddled with the hem of his brown and white striped shirt, a habit he’d never been able to shake in your presence.

the silence was disconcerting. what was so important that he had asked you to come over so suddenly? negative thoughts raced around your mind, all pointing to the worst-case scenario.

with a clear of his throat, you lifted your head. “i don’t know if i should say this,” a nod of your head prompted him to continue. “but i don’t think we can do this anymore — be friends. you have other priorities.”

‘that aren’t me’, he wanted to add but contained himself.

the only other option was for him to distance himself before he got hurt too. so why did he feel guilty? this was for your own good. harua did it for you. it was for you.

did that even make sense anymore? the knot in his stomach only tightened, churning and tossing awaiting your reply.

“i don’t… understand?” rubbing your thumb over your knuckles, you averted your gaze the carpeted floor. “what do you mean? have i done something wrong?”

harua shook his head tightly in response.

so you raised your voice albeit the confusion that raged within you. “then what…? at the very least i deserve an explanation.”

frustration was bubbling inside of you.

you breathed out. “stop speaking in riddles, harua.”

perhaps you were being too harsh, but you really were failing to understand the cause of this sudden decision. sure you became distant but that didn’t justify what he was doing.

“it’s not you,—“ harua started to speak.

“‘its me’, right? don’t bother explaining if you’re going to repeat some stupid, unoriginal shit.” exasperated, you shook your head. “i thought our friendship was stronger than this. i’m starting to reconsider though.”

why couldn’t you see what he saw? the animosity was spreading, like a plague amongst a small village. the pent-up frustration had been nipping at him slowly, which made him all the more irritable.

and he couldn’t stop the words that escaped his mouth next. “well i’m starting to think your’s and taki’s friendship is stronger.”

a flush coloured his cheeks.

he wasn’t supposed to say that. you weren’t supposed to hear that.

your expression dropped, causing a frown to adorn his face. with eyes narrowed, you held your gaze on him. harua felt like he was transparent; he felt like an open book. almost as if you possessed x-ray vision and were able to read him — to see through him.

and shigeta harua hated that the most.

he didn’t want you to do that; the fear of being totally understood consumed him. would you leave him once you finally saw through his feelings? would you consider them to be ulterior motives?

the silence was eating away at him.

talk. please talk. those words repeated themselves over and over in his mind. like a mantra.

“this was all about taki?” a breath of relief was let out once your melodious voice filled the atmosphere. but he still wasn’t happy about the contents either.

“no…?” for a ‘definitive statement’, it came out more very question-like.

despite the inner turmoil, harua raised a brow after noticing your expression.

unable to contain the sly grin that took to your face, you slapped a hand over your mouth before letting out a chuckle.

“you were jealous the whole time?”

fuck. you had caught on. the realisation shocked harua. it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

meekly nodding his head, he choked on air.

“ahh, you’re so cute,” the last word visibly perplexed the boy opposite you, to the point where you could see a big red question mark flat on his adorable face. “i consider both you and taki to be my friends. i like both of you equally. although, i do sort of favour you more. but don’t tell taki i said that.” with an index finger to harua’s lips, you hushed him.

oh. ‘friend’. despite everything he initially thought, you didn’t know. surprisingly, a look of relief washed over his features.

looking down at your finger on his lips, he forced out a remark.

“it’s not that funny…”

the gentle pout that former on his face was too adorable for you to ignore.

as your expression softened, your eyes widened and you straightened up.

“here, i’ll make you a promise. is that okay?” you spoke in a hushed tone, as if afraid to be overheard.

curiosity laced his eyes as the boy leaned closer, head tilted.

“a promise?”

“that i’ll always be here for you. you’re one of my good friends, so i’ll stick by you.”

awaiting his response, guilt washed over you. harua was right. you weren’t making an effort. so you mentally dedicated yourself to this one task. hesitantly, his eyes searched yours. harua wasn’t doubtful of your promise. but he was sure that he would be hurt in the process. nevertheless, the boy stuck out his pinky finger.

“promise?”

after intertwining your finger with his, you curtly nodded.

“promise.”

harua hated how you managed to always possess his heart in one hand. unbeknownst to you, you played with.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

a lie. you were a liar.

by senior year, you, harua and taki were still present — and flourishing, you may add — members of the book club. it was enjoyable, and it was your last year so you decided to make the most of it.

harua was a very observant person, he could read into situations well enough. which is why it puzzled him to see that something had bloomed between you and taki. it wasn’t new, even while juniors, you had been sort of taken with taki. but it was totally different now.

harua didn’t hate takiyama riki — he could never bring himself to — he envied him. what did the other boy have that he didn’t? the looks? the confidence? the intelligence?

the boy didn’t consider himself to be that good looking; more average-looking if anything (though you would disagree). to be honest, while struggling heavily with his confidence levels, maybe insecurity had gotten the better of him. but most of all, his grades at school were decent, harua wasn’t an over-achiever or academically gifted. he was normal. average. nothing special.

a pure contrast to taki. popular, handsome, very smart, confident but not too prideful, and most importantly, knew how to woo you.

fuck. these thoughts only dug harua a deeper hole. he could win your heart. definitely.

however, those words only dulled each time they were repeated.

nothing changed, when you all had attended hangouts. once while meeting at a local cafe, you and taki sat next to each other, harua opposite you both. engrossed in conversing animatedly, harua noticed how you’d act around the other boy. brushing arms, touching his shoulder, reaching for his hand, and the likes. the thawing pain that persevered in his chest went unnoticed as well as the knot in his throat. he observed your light flirty remarks as well as your melodious fits of giggles that strew along the atmosphere at every word that left taki’s lips. as if ignoring harua, you carried along your antics; excluding him.

this wasn’t a one-time thing. as weeks passed by you’d become more interested in the boy known as takiyama riki. facetiming harua, heat flushing your cheeks as you gushed about taki. the worst thing is that this crush wasn’t not reciprocated. all the reserved boy heard in taki’s presence was your name, the way you smiled, the way you spoke, the way you had touched his shoulder that day.

of course. it seemed that harua had fell too much into like and ended up in love. that everyone was falling in love yet he was the only one falling behind.

everything completely shifted once his parents had divorced. as the boy’s best friend, you had already known that his parents never had the best relationship; always arguing and bitter to each other but never to harua. it was a few months into the term. this had taken a toll on your best friend; he had begun to isolate himself, become more irritable as well as wallow in pity. for you, it was hard seeing him like that and pained you deeply.

which was why you devoted time into helping him recover. at first you had let him spend some time alone in seclusion — which was well needed for him — but then you started to take an active role; visiting his house often and bringing food, video games, even sometimes bringing taki along too. you did your best to cheer him up.

during those times, you began to spend less time with taki and more with harua. that alone almost brought a smile to the boy’s face. almost. it was comical how desperate he was for your attention. yet he only craved it more.

however, he did start to get better with time; harua began to cope. with your help too. from the slight bounce in his step to the colourful expression formed on his face, the old him had more-or-less returned. but so did the ‘old’ you.

after regaining himself, harua noticed you distancing yourself again; only awakening the dormant insecurities that lied within him.

the painfully-obvious ones too.

since taki had been the head leader of the book club, it was his responsibility to deal with funds and the likes. due to low funding, the school board had decided to cut their budget by more than half, which would meant that it would have to be shut down permanently. this was not well-received by the taller boy, the book club was his pride and joy; he had put so much effort in for it all to be snatched away last minute with not a single regard to those who cherished it.

obviously, you had not been notified until later on in the day the news had been broken to him. heartbroken, the boy had called you. and you ran to him in a heartbeat.

though, that same day, something horrible had happened to harua too. his father. perhaps he was too fragile, too vulnerable, too weak. that would make sense because he couldn’t stand it when his father in a blind fit of rage had insulted him. harua didn’t blame his father, although he should’ve. the divorce was his fault.

his fault. that two-word phrase, that seven-letter sentence had echoed in his conscience. on the verge of tears, he returned to his room bitterly. why couldn’t he fight back? why wasn’t he strong enough?

yet in that moment, all his mind flickered to was you. his then-ragged breaths were becoming more stable and his expression slowly softened. the only solution seemed to be to call you. so that, he did.

the incessant buzzing of your phone on the dark black nightstand bounced off the wall of taki’s room. on the edge of the king bed, you had wrapped the boy in a loving embrace as you reached over to turn your phone upside down after coming to one conclusion.

harua could wait.

taki had nuzzled his face into your shoulder as you rocked back and forth. and just minutes later, your vibrating phone had finally stopped.

“it’s not your fault. i knew you did all you could to save it,” lolling him to a sense of calm, you whispered softly. “stuff like this happens. don’t let it affect you too much. hm?”

muffled, the taller boy spoke into your neck. “i’ll try but—“

swiftly, he was cut off by the light buzzing of your phone again and pulled away from your warmth. “that sounds pretty important. you should answer.” opening your arms to him, a grin erupted on your face.

“i’ll get it later. what’s important to me now is you.”

oh, if only shigeta harua knew you where you were, cradling the boy he envied in your arms and avoiding his call.

after two-three of more attempts, harua gave up. and with a finger caught between his teeth, millions of possibilities raced around his mind as he mentally searched for a reason of why you weren’t taking his calls. perhaps you were busy. maybe you had just forgot your phone and it was on silent? or it could’ve been that you didn’t have your phone at you on that moment! that’s why the boy decided to wait it out. twenty minutes wasn’t that long.

surely you weren’t deliberately avoiding him. right?

but twenty minutes became forty and forty minutes stretched into an hour. that’s thirty-six hundred seconds without a response. if harua wasn’t totally frantic then he definitely was now. scrambling to put on a scarf and gather his belongings, the boy filed slowly down his house stairs while making his way to the door.

“where on earth do you think you’re off to, young man?” a rough voice grumbled at him.

“out.” inhaling sharply, harua replied curtly before pulling the door and stepping out into the cold breeze. the sun’s deceiving presence shone radiantly despite the biting wind that nipped at the boy. huffing lightly, he began making his way to your house. only a fifteen minute-ish walk from his. passing the park nearby, he’d become a little more skittish, especially since you hadn’t even so much as sent a text back.

finally arriving at your place, shutting his eyes closed, he took a deep breath before knocking deftly on the wooden door of your home.

a soft voice echoed from inside.

“coming!”

the door unlocked and your sister had appeared from behind it. confusion etched her expression and she tilted her head.

“harua? she’s not here. hasn’t been for a couple of hours now.” shrugging her shoulders, the boy nodded, head tilted up as he watched as the clouds began to cover the ball of fire lodged into the blue sky, before posing a short question.

“do you know where she went? i’ve been calling her for quite some time now.”

your sister’s expression had softened after recognising the frantic shake in his voice.

“you could try taki’s. i think i heard her say something about—“ but before being able to finish, harua had already spun on his heels and hurried away. a giggle escaped from the girl as she shook her head in disbelief before shutting the door.

what were you doing with taki? something felt wrong. stomach churning, his walking pace sped up as he broke into a light sprint.

shigeta harua hadn’t visited taki’s home that much, but was sure of it’s location. heads turned at his sprinting, but he didn’t mind. all that was on his mind was you. and it wasn’t an exaggeration that he was lovesick for you. so so lovesick.

but harua was also becoming sick of that love.

his pace remained constant before he felt something hit his forehead. a droplet. it was raining. in frustration, he began to run faster to get to cover. taki’s house was only a few minutes away now. harua reckoned he could reach it without getting too drenched. but it would all be worth it.

he would get to see you and finally confess.

expressing his feelings aloud would free him from the overbearing thoughts. from having to carry the heavy burden of possessing feelings for one of his best friends.

harua’s own thoughts distracted him for a while before he looked up to realise that he’d already arrived at the house. catching his breath, hands covered his knees as he panted. mentally preparing himself, he knocked lightly before taking a few steps back. taki’s mum had opened the door and smiled warmly at the boy. strangely, that brought relief to him.

“they’re just upstairs. come on in, it’s very cold and you’re drenched!” moving away from the door, harua stepped inside before looking to the woman. “don’t you remember? it’s the first room on the left.” she laughed at his visible cluelessness.

following her instructions, his feet led him hastily to taki’s room. a normal, brown and wooden door. but what was peculiar was that it was slightly ajar, meaning he could peek into it. a horrible feeling bubbled in harua as he slowly inched closer. spying on your two best friends was a very bad thing to do. despite that, he couldn’t control the nagging curiosity.

so he did what he did best. shigeta harua observed. you and taki on his bed, with the latter’s head in your shoulder.

‘that’s just something friends do though’, the thought repeated over and over on his conscious.

the other boy lifted his head before locking eyes with you. yet harua observed something familiar in taki’s eyes. and he was reminded of the first day you and him met the other boy. at book club, where you and taki has gazed at each other.

then your hand came to caress his cheek slowly as the taller boy leaned in to collide his lips with yours. with a few seconds, you pulled away and harua saw the lovestruck gaze that you held and was reminded of his own when looking at you. that specific moment was when the boy realised something important.

shigeta harua would never be the one you loved.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[fsbc-librarian]

Hi! I hope you are good! Feel free to mention some of your works that aren't yet posted to tease us all with the potential we're waiting for!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love! <3

I don’t have many more works than 5 😂 here are some of my favourites 💜

This took me over a year to write, and I was so insanely nervous before I posted it, but I’m so so proud of it. It’s still my most popular fic by hits/kudos (and it recently got a short one shot sequel).

Summary: Bucky looked at Steve. Steve carefully did not look at Bucky.

“You didn’t tell him?” Becca asked, pausing in the doorway. Steve shook his head.

“He only just got here. Besides, I thought you would have told him over the phone,” Steve grumbled, now also carefully not looking at Becca.

“He is also standing right the fuck here,” Bucky snapped. “In case you both forgot.”

“Steve,” Bucky started, quietly, purposely not looking at either of them now. “Why is Becca your doctor?”

Neither Steve nor Becca answered him. Bucky looked up. Becca was watching Steve, who was staring intently at a wrinkle in the sheet covering the bed he was sitting on.

“Why is Becca your doctor right now?” He asked again, more forcefully, this time looking to his sister. “And why are we in the fucking family rooms?”

*****

Steve’s a marathon runner. He’s still friends with his ex-alpha, his life revolves around training, work, and Bucky, his best friend. He’s also 6 months pregnant and he doesn’t know who the sire is. If he ignores his problems, they’ll go away, right?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Lorraine, Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Winifred Barnes, Howling Commandos, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, hidden pregnancy, Secret pregnancy, New York Marathon, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Marvel Cameos, Easter Eggs, so many easter eggs, Rating for later chapters, Anal Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Fuck Or Die, Hand-Wavey Medical, Pining, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Mildly Dubious Consent, only because both of them want it but both think the other doesn't

✨✨✨✨✨

Summary: Bucky Barnes is running from his problems. He's housesitting for his best friend while she's on her honeymoon - the almost a year prior that he's been staying in her house doesn't count - when he's woken in the middle of the night by an angel and a demon. Okay, maybe they're not a literal angel and demon, but Steve Rogers *looks* like an angel, and his daughter Charli certainly *acts* like a demon.

The father/daughter duo are running from their own problems, but that doesn't mean that they can't crash headlong into one another's lives. Throw in a cursed book for good measure, and it's about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Original Children of Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author!Bucky, Architect!Steve, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers Friendship, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, Homophobic Language, Cursed Book, Eavesdropping, Past Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow, Past Bucky Barnes/Alexander Pierce, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve's Daughter has a British Accent, Gay Steve Rogers, Gay Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, meet ugly, Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes

✨✨✨✨✨

Summary: An Avengers fundraising event in Las Vegas takes a left turn, and Captain America wakes up with a brand new spouse and no way to get a divorce. Coupled with Tony Stark's current obsession with reality dating shows, obviously nothing can go wrong, right?

Bucky Barnes isn't even Tony's PA - Pepper is his actual boss - and he does not have time to even date anyone, let alone be married to one of the most famous people in the world, especially not with a sick sister and precocious niece at home depending on him. He just needs to keep his head down, and wait it out til they can get a divorce. Easy, right?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Happy Hogan, Jennifer Walters, Darcy Lewis

Additional Tags: Accidental Marriage, Shrunkyclunks | Modern Bucky Barnes/Captain America Steve Rogers, pa bucky barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers, alcohol consumption, Crack Treated Seriously, Sort Of, mentions of illness, Cancer, Hand-Wavey Legals, There Was Only One Bed, Kidfic, Public Sexual Acts, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Teasing, Bottom Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, light Dom/sub tones

✨✨✨✨✨

Summary: How do you mourn for someone who isn’t dead? That’s the big question, and so far, Bucky hasn’t been able to answer it.

He’d fought for seventy years, even when he didn’t remember his own name, when he didn’t know he was a person. Always the first memory to come back to him was a set of blue eyes, touched with a tiny bit of green. The whisper of a voice in his ears, the flash of memory that someone should be there, right beside him.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes

Additional Tags: no happy ending, Angst, Hallucinations, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Anger, Unrequited Love, Canon Compliant, Not A Fix-It

✨✨✨✨✨

Summary: He's not sure how it happened. One moment, he was the Winter Soldier, and the next he's working in a Brooklyn coffee shop, where the prickly owner is someone who treats him like a person, not a machine. And just maybe, he can be a person again.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Yelena Belova, John Walker (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Captain America John Walker (Marvel), Former Captain America Sam Wilson, Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Coffee Shops, Coffee Shop Owner Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Minor Character Death, Past Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Amnesia, memory problems, Hand Wavey Medical, Sad, Feelings, Gay Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

✨✨✨✨✨

Upcoming fics

Sympathy for the Devil

Summary: Alpha Bucky Barnes has been a headlining rock star for over 20 years, both as the lead singer of the band The 107, and as a solo artist. The Reunion World Tour of The 107 also features the up-and-coming punk rock band SHIELD, with lead singer (omega) Steve Rogers. The chemistry is undeniable, and when one thing leads to another, Steve Rogers finds himself with an unexpected souvenir.

Working Title: Runaway

Summary: rich kid Bucky Barnes is an omega who has had to pretend to be a beta his whole life, until he’s faced with something that will literally change his life. So, he does the only thing he can think of - he runs away. Right into the dive bar owned by ex-army captain, and alpha, Steve Rogers.

[sundrop-writes]

Announcing my new fic: Heaven's Gate

Heaven's Gate is a long oneshot starring Daryl Dixon and a gender neutral reader character, featuring angst, hurt and comfort, and some fluff.

NOW POSTED!!!!!

In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the prison is attacked by the Governor, and though you both believe the other person is dead, you two end up finding each other at the most unexpected time. This fic is about hope, the human connection, and how love is about more than romance - it's about how people take pieces of each other and grow with them, never truly able to forget each other.

This fic is going to be a longer oneshot that is currently about 15k long - and will likely be longer by the time it has gone through editing. It is 80% of the way done in my drafts (not including editing), and I hope to have it posted by April 30th - which is a tentative date that may change. If you want to know for certain when the fic is posted, you can follow me here and turn on notifcations or you can subscribe to me on AO3 to get an email notification when the fic is posted. I am really excited to share this fic with all of you 💖.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you wanna get a better sense for the upcoming fic you can read it. If you enjoy this preview and you're excited for what the fic holds, please let me know!

Also an important note: with my gender neutral reader fics, I don't use any references to gender whatsoever (this is not a 'GN afab' fic). And in this fic in particular, I didn't use any pronouns (other than you/yours) or gendered terms for the reader - and at points where the terms they/them were used, I made it purposefully vague so that the dialogue could be referring to the whole group as 'they' or just the reader. I want my gender neutral fics to be enjoyed by everyone - cis women, cis men, gender non conforming people, trans people - every kind of fanfiction reader.

I am making this post for two major reasons - one, I want to generate as much excitement for oneshots as there is for series. Especially for oneshots that are longer than 10k because those take a lot of time and effort. If a series is like a TV show, then long oneshots are like a feature film. And two - nobody seems to read my pinned post where I announce new upcoming fics anyway, so I might as well make posts like these so that people can know what to expect from me. And hopefully you guys will get excited about my upcoming fics this way. And when I tag these posts with the relevant tags, people interested in those topics can follow me to anticipate the fic if they want to read it.

Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader) - Preview

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: no pronouns used for the reader other than you/yours; there are major plot spoilers for The Walking Dead if you are watching the show for the first time - spoilers for Season 2 all the way up through Season 5; typical warnings for TWD - mentions of death, emotional despair; all of these themes and emotions are expanded upon in the full fic.

...

“Daryl!” 

You called out his name as you jogged up toward the stables, and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to catch up with him. 

“Daryl, hey.” You greeted him with a small smile. “Rick told me you’d be up here.” 

He grunted in reply. “Yeah. ‘m gonna take a horse out. Make better ground t’ look for the girl.” 

Your stomach clenched at him mentioning her. 

The group was supposed to be headed out towards Fort Bennet - supposed to be finding refuge at the hopefully safe military base. Instead, you were all setting up camp at the very reluctant Hershel Greene’s farm, not straying too far from where you had lost one of your own in the hopes of finding her. 

But that was why you had come to talk to Daryl in the first place. 

Sophia had become like a sister to you in the few short months that you had known her, and though it was unlikely, you were hopeful that she was alive - that she would be found. And you did believe that Daryl would be the one to find her. 

“How’s the trail?” You asked. “Do you think you know which way she headed? You - you can be honest with me.” 

You hesitated on the last part. But you did want his honesty more than anything. And you knew that he was never one to sugar-coat things. Even if you hadn’t told him that, he would have given you the truth anyway. 

“Trail’s a little muddy.” He said, doling out that honesty. “‘m gon follow the river. It’s her biggest landmark out there, so she’ll probably be somewhere around it.” 

You smiled at him. And then, you remembered - 

“I brought you something.” You noted, reaching for the back pocket of your jeans. 

Daryl watched with quiet curiosity as you pulled out a piece of paper - when you showed it to him, he quickly realized that it was a half-used set of stickers. 

“These are some of the stickers that I got for Sophia,” You explained. “My mom always used to tell me that cardinals are good luck.” 

You peeled off a sticker of a bright red bird - as much of a nature man as he was, Daryl was never one for bird watching. He didn’t care about identifying certain species of birds unless he could shoot and eat them. But he quickly reasoned that this must be the cardinal that you spoke of. 

“Give me your bow.” You said, shoving the rest of the sticker sheet into your back pocket again and holding out your hand expectantly. 

“I don’t need no luck.” He replied, voice full of snark. 

“Just give it.” You replied - equally snarky, equally stubborn. 

Daryl sighed and tugged his bow’s strap over his head, presenting it to you. You placed the sticker on the bow’s handle, in one of the places where it wasn’t as worn down from him holding it. 

“There,” You said, giving it back to him with a smile. “Now you’re all set.” 

It was more for you than it was for him - a token of good faith and protection. The idea that you could do something to bring Sophia home when you felt so powerless. 

Daryl let out a harsh sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sarcastic snort as he walked away. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” You replied brightly, edging on sarcastic once again. 

… 

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth. 

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done. 

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’. 

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt. 

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning? 

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently. 

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism. 

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you. 

“Here.” He grunted at her. 

Beth smiled at him. 

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time. 

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there. 

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind. 

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it. 

For good luck. 

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead. 

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it. 

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him. 

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her. 

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed. 

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer. 

He didn’t give her one. 

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.” 

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.” 

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject. 

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again. 

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories. 

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

… 

“Can I see it again?” Beth asked, suddenly changing the subject. 

Again, this was a confusing little whip for Daryl - something that clearly only made sense to Beth in her own drunken mind. 

“See what?” Daryl replied. 

“The picture.” Beth answered. “The one you tried to burn.” 

Daryl felt a pinch of guilt surge over him at the thought. Oddly enough, this was the one time he would be willing to admit that Beth was right - you can’t burn up memories. 

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it? That drew it.” Beth added on, her words slurring slightly - she lifted the mason jar of booze to her lips again and Daryl was tempted to snatch it away from her. 

Instead, he found his hand drifting to his breast pocket and reaching to take the picture out. He presented it to Beth, who put down her drink to unfold it - she stared at the picture fondly under the brightness of the moonlight, tracing a finger over the slightly faded details. 

“You know… my daddy used to tell me that a cardinal is like an angel.” Beth said, recognizing the bird from her father’s teachings on the farm. “Someone - someone you loved who passed away, watching over you from heaven.” 

“Y/N said they was good luck.” Daryl replied. 

Beth shrugged. “Same thing.” 

It was this thought that kept Daryl going for a long time. The idea that even if you were dead, you were watching over him somehow. He sure as hell didn’t believe that someone like Merle would be an angel - but you, you definitely were. And even if it was a waste of your eternal life, you would be determined to watch over Daryl - to make sure that he was safe, well-guided. 

You would make sure that he was lucky. 

That thought alone carried him through the long journey to D.C. 

It was something that lingered in his mind as the group hunkered down in a random barn - as he spotted something carved into one of the wooden beams holding the place up. Even though it wasn’t colored, he could have sworn that the long tail and pointed head of the silhouette indicated that the carving was meant to be cardinal. Of course. 

Who knows who had stayed in the barn before them - if it had been left there by a weary traveler, or even put there by someone who had used the barn before the turn. But Daryl could have sworn that you - your ghost, your angelic hand - had led him to this very spot. 

It was a thought that gave him strength as he held the doors up - helped to keep them from caving in while the storm raged outside. 

Your luck, and your damn bird - you would keep him safe. 

When they reached Alexandria, and they were forced to give up their weapons - Daryl spotted your bird perched on the fence. Bright red, with its pointy head cocked sideways at him. All too knowing, staring at him like it wanted to say something. Just like it had been when he had fallen off the cliff out in the woods when he had been looking for Sophia. 

Oddly enough, it made him feel safe giving up his crossbow - perching it on top of the fully loaded cart of weapons before the awkward, bespeckled woman wheeled it away. 

Rick was still weary of this new place after Terminus, and Daryl understood. He followed Rick’s lead. Especially because he couldn’t tell Rick that he had a good feeling about this place because he saw a damn bird. 

But even if it was just in spirit, he felt you there. He knew that it was the home you had chosen for them.

[hearteyespierce]

Hello, I'm from Gaza

My name is Farah

Can you please help me to study at the university

Me and my family have lost our home, our car, and our dream to study

I hope just to help me to start my education

I was in my first year at university in Gaza but after the war, I lost everything my dream and my education 💔

Hope you really can help with anything

Thank you in advance

https://gofund.me/7417ca2b

https://gofund.me/0974b65e

Hi y'all! Check out Farah's GoFundMe here - she is from Gaza and has dreams to go to university to become a pharmacist! She has lost everything, including the university she planned to study at, which has been bombed by the IOF. She and her family have made it to Egypt, but she is trying to start over and is raising money to be able to begin her education. Her €8,000 goal is to pay for her first year's tuition!

As of the time I post this, she is €7,840 away from her goal - I am an artist and if you DM me proof of a donation of any amount to Farah's campaign, I will do a sfw pencil sketch of one character/subject of your choice (but happy to discuss more for larger donations, read on and send me your receipt, we'll chat!)! I've never done commissions before whether for profit or donations so bear with me, I'm figuring it out as I go!

Let's help Farah get a new start on her dreams and on her way to university!

If you can't donate, you can still help by please please please reblogging! I don't have very many followers, so I don't have a lot of reach.

I linked my art tag previously, but here it is again, and here are a few examples of my pencil work:

if you are interested in donating more for colors/more characters/etc, you can see more of my non sketch work in my tag (i work in various mediums like colored pencils, markers, watercolors, gouache, oil pastels, digital, etc).

vague pricing structure + more information below the cut!

'prices':

Going to set a vague 'pricing' structure (in euros since that's the currency the GoFundMe is in) - these are based on roughly how time consuming each medium is for me, but like I said previously, if you can't donate quite enough for a specific thing, reach out to me. I know a lot of us on tumblr (my recently unemployed self included) don't have a ton of money and the top priority is reaching Farah's goal!

For all of the below, you will receive a digital scan of the original work (if traditional medium) or a high res file from procreate (if digital).

Pencil sketch of one subject, bust up: Any donation amount

Pencil sketch of two or more subjects and/or full body sketch: ~€15, +€5/each additional character past two)

One subject + colored pencils or markers: ~€20

Two subjects + colored pencils or markers: ~€25

Watercolor and/or gouache painting: ~€35 for one character, +€10/additional character

Digital: ~€40+ for one character, +€10/additional character (re: '+', level of detail can vary on these, reach out and we'll chat!)

Oil pastel painting: ~€50 for one character, +€15/additional character

If you are requesting a traditional medium and would like to receive the original work in the mail, let me know ahead of time and we can discuss 'price' for this.

To reiterate: all 'prices' are for donations to Farah's GoFundMe Campaign! I will not be collecting any profit from this.

wills/won'ts + fandoms / etc:

what do I like to draw?

I love drawing people, portraits especially, but I also enjoy drawing animals. characters from fandoms, portraits of family/friends/pets/etc are all a-okay! I'm a multishipper so very few ships are a problem for me - what I will draw is pretty flexible aside from what is listed in the following 'what will I not draw?' section. For the purpose of this fundraiser, all art will be safe for work.

what will I not draw?

While I'm happy to draw real people, be they yourself/friends/family/a celebrity you like/etc, I won't do ship art of real people (art of a couple in your real life is fine, but ship art of celebrities, for example, is something I am not comfortable with). I also will not draw age gap relationships wherein the younger character is a minor. No gore/graphic violence - though canon typical bloodiness (MASH characters in the OR for example), is fine. I will not be drawing nsfw art of any ship for this fundraiser.

The above is what I can think of right now, though I reserve the right to turn down a concept should something come up that I didn't think of right now. Should that be the case, I will work with you to determine a different subject/concept.

fandoms?

Lastly, if you're curious about my fandoms, I've included a non-comprehensive list here, but as long as reference images are available for characters/people/pets I am not familiar with and they do not cross the limits listed above, I am okay with drawing for fandoms I am not familiar with/people in your life.

MASH (TV - current hyperfixation)

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (BBCA)

Star Trek (TOS, TNG, DS9, & Lower Decks)

The X-Files

Good Omens

Our Flag Means Death

Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel: The Series

The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

Twin Peaks

Dimension 20/Dropout in general

Les Miserables

Merlin (BBC)

Firefly

The Adventure Zone: Balance & Amnesty, not caught up otherwise

Princess Tutu

The Prisoner (1967)

There's definitely more that I'm forgetting, I've been rattling around fandom spaces for 20 years now, but like I said, it's a non-comprehensive list!

If you've read this far, thank you again! Please reblog to help Farah's fundraiser reach more people, and send me your receipt if you donate!

[lunarthecorvus]

Inej Ghafa parent's fanfiction recommendations part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

-------------------------------✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧----------------------------------

what a mother was by @cameliawrites

Wordcount: 62k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Grandparents, Inej Ghafa's Aunt, Inej Ghafa's Father, Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, Family, Romance, Coming of Age, Prequel, Time Skips, Suli Culture & Religion, Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Canon-Typical violence, Period Typical Racism, Sick Character, Grief/ Mourning, Attempted Sexual Assault, First Love, Implied/ Referenced Homophobia, Eating Disorders, Bittersweet, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending

Author's summary/notes: "She could recount every detail of the day she married Kolhat: the geraniums her sister had embroidered along the sleeves and hem of her dress, one of her father’s old handkerchiefs tucked into her pocket, her mother’s silk veil draped over her hair. She could recall the day she met him, when she was all of twenty years old. Inej was not yet twenty. Shanta still felt as young as all that, and she felt far older." . . . Before she was Inej’s mother, Shanta Ghafa had a mother too. or: ten years and six suitors in the life of Mama Ghafa. My summary/notes: A beautiful retrospective of Mama Ghafa's past, the life she has lived, and all she has loved and lost. Camelia is just an amazing writer and every part of this fic was beautfully written. You can feel the grief and joy of Shanta's life and it added levels and depth to her character that I never would've expected. While reading this I couldn't believe that this wasn't canon and its own book. I would kill to read this for the first time again.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Sankta Margaretha and Other Tales of Sorrow by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 18k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Angst, Implied/ Reference Rape/ Non-con, Canon Typical Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses

Author's summary/notes: When his daughter was stolen from beneath his nose on the outskirts of Os Kervo, Samir Ghafa lost his faith in the saints. After a letter arrives bearing the insignia of the Lantsov double-eagle, he finds his hope rekindled. But when he learns of the demon of Ketterdam, he begins to fear once more… My summary/ notes: I'm not sure how to write this without directly spoiling it.. but a certain opinion Inej's father has about someone is surprisingly uncommonly found in fics and its so interesting to read how the opinion is formed and how Samir acts because of it. Then consequently how the others act and feel because of Samir's actions. (I was laughing my ass off while writing this so vaguely)

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Ten Minutes in the Life of a Pear by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 8.9k Chapters: 4/4

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Asha, Hanzi

Tags: Panic Attacks, Healing, Implied/ Reference Rape/Non-con, Canon backstory, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Post-Canon

Authors summary: Four glimpses into breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert with the Ghafa Family. My summary/ notes: A heartwarming fic reflecting on the pain and the way relationships both platonic and romantic can develop and grow throughout the different points in life.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Runs in the family by DopamineAddict

Wordcount: 99k Chapters: 16/18 (hasn't been updated since march)

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's father, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey. Tante Heleen, Specht, Roeder, Anika

Tags: Revenge, Family Reunions, Canon-Typical violence, Coming of Age, Inej Ghafa needs a hug, Past Rape/ non con, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Kaz is scared of Inej's parents he knows hunger for revenge when he sees it, the Ghafa's might be a bit non canon but we only see them from Inej's pov in canon so..

Author's summary/notes: As the Ketterdam harbour grows closer, Priya and Devnand Ghafa steel themselves for the truth of whatever their daughter had been through over the past two years. And for what they might do about it. My summary/notes: Priya and Devnand meet their daughter again after years, they learn about her and what's she's been doing, but the other question that will be answered is what have they been up to since Inej has been taken. (This fic is just incredible, it changed how I saw her parents)

[foodsies4me]

April Malec fic rec!

Thanking @just-add-butter and @ariella9melody for this month's theme which is a double combo of "Outsider's POV" and "Let Alec have friends!" The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 😊

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Enthrallment by @smilebackwards: Magnus' magic being possessive and warlocks reacting to Magnus' magic being possessive, what more could you want? OC POV!

Summary:

It does look a little bad, Parmela thinks, looking at it from outside. As more specialists had been called in for consultation, they’d decamped to one of the larger conference rooms—eschewing attendance at A, B, AB, & O: The Impact of Blood Type on Non Subject Specific Blood Magic, because this was vastly more interesting and potentially important—and there are a round dozen high-level warlocks clustered around Alec, poking at him with magic. Or: Alec attends the Magical Inventions and Advances convention in hopes of recruiting warlocks for another Downworld Cabinet. The warlocks, however, are more interested—and concerned—by the blue magical aura following Alec around.

And I am breaking my own rules by rec-ing a second fic by smilebackwards: Portable Magic

Summary:

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering. Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression. Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

I'll die on this (Under)hill by @clottedcreamfudge: like all of the fics written by clottedcreamfudge, this fic is downright hilarious. That said, poor Underhill. Underhill POV!

Summary:

The point is, Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood clearly have an intimate knowledge of each other, and it has never once impacted on their work. What it is beginning to impact on, however, is Andrew’s sanity. Because apparently he really is the only one to have noticed it.

Be careful with my best friends heart by TheLostLightwood: A fic in Cat's perspective, who I maintain is one of the best characters in the series and we needed more of her! Cat POV!

Summary:

Catarina Loss had known Magnus for a long time, she had seen him cry, laugh, mourn, get injured and fall in love many times before. But she had never seen him more in love or more broken than she had in this moment. Cat's POV, as Alec is seriously injured in a fight against demons. And Magnus well he...

Alec's Little Ducklings by @to-the-stars-writing (this will be one of two recs for to the stars because I am being very bad at keeping to my rules this time around). Alec gets hurt and all of his friends appear to take care of him!

Summary:

After Alec's hurt coming home from the Hunter's Moon, he's left laid up in bed when the drug they gave him prevents his injuries from being healed by angelic or magical powers. Magnus is fully prepared to do take care of his stubborn boyfriend, only to find out that there are a few other people who are more than willing to offer their help.

the right thing by @cuubism: As the summary says, Alec's first speech as the Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned. Izzy POV!

Summary:

Alec's first speech as Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned.

nock. draw. release by chaidrivenwhore: A non human POV, but a weapon POV! Alec's bow to be specific!

the bow and arrows had tempted many, but this specific one, with its curved limbs engraved with angelic runes and sharp arrows, straight and unbending, had called out to a nine year old alexander lightwood like no other had.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Families of Choice by MonPetitTresor, a recommendation made by @ariella9melody that I can only agree with because this fic is wonderful (as are all fics my MonPetitTresor).

Summary:

Life at the Institute takes a turn for the worse for Alec. When he's alone with nowhere else to turn, his siblings step up and help him find his feet once more with help from a few new friends along the way. Between them, Alec finally gets a chance to realize that the world doesn't begin and end with being a Shadowhunter, and there's more out there for him, so long as he's got the courage to reach out and grab it.

ask the always impossible of me by @faejilly: Some very nice Aline and Alec friendship!

Summary:

Just for one night, a magical ball where anyone can meet, when anything is possible... And that's just the beginning.

Running from the Night by @to-the-stars-writing: I love how Stars depicts Alec's struggles with his mental health and there are a lot of friends for Alec in this one!

Summary:

For a long time, Alec had felt like his life was held together by strings tied on him by the Clave, his parents, his siblings. Strings that pulled and tugged him in every which direction, heedless of the bruises and blood left behind. As much as they hurt, some days they’d been the only thing to hold him together. That is, up until the moment Alec stood on the shores of Lake Lyn and faced the death of the one person who held a piece of his soul, and the lies that followed his mysterious resurrection. There, on the shores of Lake Lyn, those strings finally pulled too hard, and Alec broke. With the permission of the Inquisitor, and the help of the warlock who Alec had wanted so desperately to allow himself to fall for (and had been terrified to do more than smile at his flirting) Alec walked away from everything and everyone. He left New York behind and made himself a home in the small town of Prayer – a joke Magnus found particularly funny. But, two years after that fateful night, Alec’s old life comes knocking, and those strings he thought he’d finally cut are tugging him home. Back to the place he never wanted to have to see again. At least this time, he’s not facing it alone.

[kwanisms]

Library of Illusion — the Lobby

masterlist | next »»

➥ no pairing

wc: 2.5k

summary: With the death of her parents, Y/N inherits the house and finds a box of old research her father left behind that talks about a legendary place. After months of research and searching, Y/N has finally found it.

The Library of Illusion beckons.

genre/themes/au: fantasy, slight horror elements; non idol au

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of death

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasdollie

Join my taglists: permanent | group

a/n: here it is finally! I have been so FREAKING excited about this event since we first started planning it. I hope you all love it as much as I loved writing each part and before I go off on a tangent, I'll let you all read! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

You’d always been told stories all throughout your youth about a mystical place known only as the Library. Your mother used to tell you grand stories about the place when she was putting you to sleep so she and your father could head out for an evening, leaving you in the care of a babysitter.

Your father always added onto these fantastical tales, painting vivid images with his words as he explained the Library in full detail, almost as if he had been there. The stories weren’t special to your family though. Lots of your peers heard similar tales, told to them by their parents at bed time.

And so it became sort of like a ritual. Until one day, it wasn’t.

You weren’t sure when you stopped caring about the wondrous and whimsical tales of the Library but it had to have been around the time you started showing an interest in things other than fairy tales.

Your parents still tried to instill the element of wonder into your life up until you left home, hoping to find something other than elaborate tales of a made up library.

Your parents were gone. Passed in an accident only a month ago today.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to them in years, preferring your circle of friends and work life you’d grown accustomed to.

After the funeral, you gained possession of everything they owned and while going through a box in the attic with only a bottle of wine to keep you company, you stumbled on something you probably never should have seen.

It was what you could only assume was a case file about a place called the Library of Illusion. As you flipped through the pages, sipping from your glass of red, your eyes widened reading the words you’d only heard from your parents' mouths as they tried to lull you to sleep at night.

Your father had been a professor of archaeology all throughout your life while your mother was an appraiser of rare antiques. They both loved old things.

As you scanned the documents you learned three things.

1. Your parents were obsessed with this Library, believing it to contain treasure.

2. Your parents, mainly your father had set about finding the location

3. Your father actually found the location just before his untimely death

As soon as you looked over the maps and checked it with known maps, the decision was made before you.

Wine in hand, you booked a flight, made accommodations, and hired a local guide.

Getting to the dense jungle where the Library was rumored to be was easy but traversing the jungle was another story. Your guide halfway through called it off but you were determined, taking the map and satellite phone and continuing alone on your journey which brought you to where you were now standing.

The Library was an very old stone structure, made of some kind of smooth sandstone. Most of it was covered in thick vines, the dense trees growing around the structure and making it seem very much a part of the jungle.

Two stone slab doors stood between you and the contents of the building as you checked your father’s notes, comparing them with the notebook he’d stashed with the other items.

Entering the library was no easy task but it wasn’t impossible.

A complex series of dials must be turned according to a riddle which was already solved by your parents. As you turned the last dial and it clicked into place, a mechanism behind the stone started to move and before your very eyes, the doors opened inward to reveal the inner corridor was nothing but a dark and empty void.

Taking the flashlight from your pack, you turned it on and headed inside, reminding yourself to put one foot in front of the other as you started into the blackness.

Your footsteps echoed around the walls as you walked down what seemed to be an impossibly long corridor, turning your flashlight around to keep a sharp eye on anything you might encounter from jungle animals to deadly insects or even plants. Your guide had warned you of the many dangers that awaited in not only the Library but the jungle as well.

Finally, just as you were about to give up, a dim light could be seen in the distance. Speeding up, you continued on your way, the first real sign of promise within your grasp.

As you neared what you assumed to be the end of the tunnel, the shape of the light grew in size until you emerged from the passage into a round room with a domed ceiling.

Around the walls were various bookshelves that had clearly seen better days. Old ruined books and stacks of yellowed paper lined the shelves and a thick layer of dust coated everything. Between breaks in the shelves were arched doorways.

You counted seven in total.

In the center of the room was what you could only describe as a stage, octagonal in shape and made of the same pale sandstone. Stone pillars stood in the eight corners, reaching from floor to domed ceiling and matched the same color of stone that everything else was made of.

Standing atop the stone stage, was a dark redwood desk. You carefully glanced around before ascending the few steps up to get a better look at the desk. It was a curved semi circular shape with a few stacks of aged paper as well as an old writing set.

As you inspected the desk, a voice rang out, echoing off the domed stone ceiling.

“Who are you?”

You nearly screamed as you jumped, spinning around to find you were not alone in the room as you had previously assumed.

Standing before you was a man. He had black hair, golden skin and was tall with a slim figure. He wore an entirely black ensemble, complete with a black brocade vest, black dress coat, and black trousers. His shoes were made of a shiny black leather with golden metal tips at the toe.

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his curious gaze.

When you didn't answer him, he spoke again.

“Who are you?”

Taking a quick breath, you answered him in a rush.

“I'm so sorry, I had no idea anyone was here!” The words burst from your mouth before you had a chance to stop them. You apologized profusely as the man looked at you, amused.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked and you froze, uncertain of how you should respond before finally settling on an answer.

“I guess I just got nervous,” you answered sheepishly. The man tilted his head, like a puppy would upon having its name called.

“Why?”

You shrugged in response to his question. “I suppose I just wasn't expecting to meet anyone here.”

The man smiled again as he closed the distance between the two of you slowly, his footsteps echoing around the room with each step.

“And what are you doing here?” He asked. You hesitated to respond.

How exactly would you explain your reasoning for being here?

'My parents died and my father had a box of stuff relating to this place?'

No, he’d think you were absolutely mad.

Sensing your hesitation, the man took another step forward, climbing the steps one at a time. “You’d be surprised by the answers I get,” he started as he ascended the steps, stopping just before you.

You looked at him as he studied you. This close, you could see his dark brown, almost black eyes, darting around your face, seemingly taking in every feature.

“I’ve heard it all,” he continued, starting to circle you slowly as he looked over you.

“Fame, fortune, glory,” he rattled off as he continued to circle you like a predator.

“But what’s your excuse?”

You cleared your throat, turning to look at him behind you where he had stopped, meeting your gaze with an unreadable expression.

“Legacy I suppose,” you finally answered. The man’s eyes narrowed.

“Legacy?” His tone was curious and he waited for you to continue.

You decided there was no reason for you to lie and so you told him everything.

When you were done explaining the bedtime stories, the death of your parents, the inheritance, and finally the box in the attic, he continued to look at you curiously. “That’s a new one,” he admitted. “I’ve never heard of someone continuing in their parents’ steps before. So you aren’t here for the treasure?”

You shrugged again. “If there’s one to find, I’m not opposed to that, but that’s not entirely what brought me here. I’m fueled more by curiosity.”

The man smirked at you. “Curiosity is a dangerous thing,” he replied, continuing his circling from before. “They say curiosity killed the cat.”

His eyes met yours and you could have sworn you saw a flash of color in them.

Pushing it from your mind, you spoke up in retaliation.

“They also say satisfaction brought it back.”

The man’s smirk widened until he was chuckling.

"And so it did,” he said softly, moving to stand in front of you, his face mere inches from yours. “And is that what you hope to find, kitten? Satisfaction?”

Your stomach knotted at the use of the nickname, heat rushing to your core as you stared back at the man. “Perhaps,” you answered, trying to remain as unaffected as possible. The man chuckled again as he stepped around you and over to the desk.

“If it is satisfaction you seek,” he continued as he took a seat at the desk and glanced up at you. “Then perhaps you will find what you seek.” You watched him as he stared back at you.

"Satisfaction takes many forms," he continued, eyes studying you carefully. "I myself am also looking for it, in a way," he added before opening a drawer and reaching inside.

You watched as he pulled out a wooden box and set it on the desk.

You stared at it for a moment and then looked up at him. “What is it?”

The man gestured to the box. “Open it,” he said simply.

Sensing your reluctance, he sighed and reached over to undo the clasp holding the box shut and opened the lid, turning the box to show you the contents.

Or lack thereof.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you and the desk to peer into the box.

A velvet lining covered the inside with indents in the material where something or rather a few somethings had been housed. Six of them to be precise.

“What’s this?” You asked, looking up from the interior of the box to meet his eyes.

“If you seek satisfaction, you’ll find it here in the Library,” he started, looking at you with his sharp eyes. “But to seek anything in this library, you need my permission first.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What, are you the librarian?” you snorted. The man smiled, clearly amused as well.

“Of sorts,” he answered. “Come,” he stated as he got up and beckoned you to follow him.

Descending the steps, you followed him around the room until he stopped near one of the doors. “Each door is locked,” he started to explain, taking the knob in his hand and trying to turn it and showing how it didn’t budge.

You glanced up at him as he looked down to meet your gaze.

“So how do I get in?” The man shook his head.

“You humans are always so eager. Just go in blindly without knowing what you’re looking for or who you’ll meet,” he said, sounding mildly annoyed.

It was your turn to sound annoyed.

“Okay, then explain it to me.”

The man crossed his arms over his chest and studied you for a moment before answering.

“I assume you don’t need an introduction to the Library. You clearly know what this place is.”

You nodded in response. “This place is home to a legendary treasure,” the man continued. You nodded again. “Yes, everyone knows that,” you interrupted.

The man’s smile was replaced with a frown. “Don’t interrupt,” he said sternly. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “A legendary treasure is hidden here. As you stated, everyone who knows about this place, knows this. What they don’t know is where that treasure is hidden,” he added, his smirk back as your eyes widened.

“And you do?”

The man nodded slowly. “That I do.”

“Well, that gives you a distinct advantage,” you replied. “Why not take the treasure for yourself?” The man laughed loudly at this.

“What need would I have for the treasure?” He asked, shoulders still shaking from his laughter as it started to subside. You shrugged your shoulders. “What need does anyone have for treasure?” You asked in response.

The man chuckled again. “You humans are always so predictable. Greedy, selfish, self destructive,” he said, stepping forward, forcing you to back up until you were caged between him and the end of a shelf. “Us humans?” You asked, realizing you hadn’t picked up on it before, but he’d referenced a difference between himself and your species.

“Are you saying you aren’t human?”

His smile widened as he looked down at you. “You’ve finally caught on,” he said, sounding both pleased and disappointed. “I figured you would have noticed by now.” You glanced over him quickly. “You look human,” you noted.

He shook his head. “You aren’t looking. Truly looking,” he replied.

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, he pulled away.

“But we’re getting off topic,” he said, taking a few steps away and turning to look at you. Staring at him, trying to see what he meant earlier, you noticed something different. At first glance, he looked completely human but then his eyes did that same thing, a flash of color before they returned to the same dark brown.

He seemed to have an aura about him. Something you couldn’t quite see but you could catch glimpses of it. Almost like a flicker. As you stared at him, witnessing these phenomena, he smiled.

“There,” he said finally. “You see it.”

You stared in awe. “What are you?” You asked, not even realizing how rude it might sound. The man didn’t seem to mind however.

“I’m something your kind cannot comprehend,” he answered. “Not fully anyway.”

“Who are you?” You asked in response to his answer. He smiled wider.

“See, I asked you that same simple question earlier,” he said, in the same amused tone from before, the same smile present on his face as he studied you.

“A question you still haven't answered,” he noted, one of his eyebrows raising up.

You realized he was right. He’d asked you much earlier who you were and you hadn’t answered him. “I’m Y/N,” you replied. “Y/F/N Y/L/N.” The man crossed the short distance between you in moments, startling you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he replied, face inches from yours again.

“I’m Seonghwa and I’m the Keeper of Keys," he replied.

"Welcome to the Library of Illusion.”

[derseprinceoftbd]

I realized I should say this first before my actual thoughts on the book; Please send me your favorite fanworks! Music, art, anamatics, fics (especially those), you name it! I'm ready for everything and immune to spoilers, and I'm getting this way before uA! Hahahahahahahahahahahaahhaahahahahahahahahhaahahah!!!!!!!!

So: Nona.

Certainly the one with the biggest, most fundamental, and most annoying flaws; slow pacing, too many characters with too little personality, convoluted plot (I still understand nothing about the convoy). And yet the highs were not just the highest of the series, but *21st century literature*. Seriously, the moment Nona clicked felt like turning the page and seeing the imprint of Tamsyn Muir having ripped her heart out and pounded it, still beating, into the page. And may I remind you, *I'm* using the *audiobook*!

Man, I *really* disrespected this series. Like in hindsight without my lenses there is genuinely not one TLT character that accurately maps onto any one Homestuck character, and TSG has just fuckall to do with anything, but I'm a fucking jackass who wants to feel like she knows everything.

On a similar note, *not YA*. I am a moron and should not be listened to. This series is not appropriate if you are under sixteen. Certainly I don't really think you'll *get* it.

Interesting that John is, at once, environmental destruction, death, child predation, imperialism, and religion, but not really actually *patriarchy*, and *explicitly not* capitalism. I'm the kind of person to be grateful for that last bit, even if it does seem out of place with the whole ethos, but really, am I just missing a dimension or should there be more gender commentary? I guess maybe it's an AFAB thing I'm too non-passing to have any social understanding of what Muir's trying to say.

EDIT: REDDIT EXPLAINED EVERYTHING I WAS MISSING TO ME, VERY SLOWLY AND CAREFULLY, BECAUSE I'M GENUINELY A STUPID PERSON.

Anywho, I don't have great confidence in Alecto-that is to say, in the idea that it will come next. I'm almost certain, in fact, that what would once have been Act 2 of Alecto will *also* be spun into its own book, to be released no sooner than 2025 and no later than 2030, and that this will be a 5-book series; I know not whether 4 or 5 will be Alecto, but the other will definitely be Kiriona. I'm willing to put good money on this. I'm not really willing to make any predictions beyond this-I might honestly jinx it if I do.

(Also John was wrong and the rich folks were 100% going to take everyone in later waves.)

So, yeah. Thank you for everyone who read along with me; I'm going to do The Unwanted Guest next, and after that, I'm thinking either Lolita or the Torah and Gospels, then the other, then The Magician's Apprentice, then a reread.

Oh, and I can finally actually subscribe to the fucking tags! Wooooohooooo!

Let's hope none of the talented people have blocked me.