#almost went with 'most unexpected' but I think best is still a better indicator

[spockvarietyhour]

What We Do in the Shadows: The Vampires confuse Scott Bakula for a famous vampire.

Only Murders in the Building: Scott Bakula and Charles Haden Savage are at the same party, realizing they shared the same late stunt double and have similar wardrobes.

[standingappablog]

My interpretation of Toni and Shelbys relationship.

I am re-watching the wilds and I wanna talk about a few things I missed in my first viewing. 

Toni

Starting off in episode one, which I think a lot of us picked up on the gay vibe from both of them, was Tonis front with shelby at the beginning of the show. All talk, and takes no shit. But you can spot her flustered moment easily when Shelby puts her hands on her shoulders and when she begins to sing (while she pees yes lol) But you can just SEE IT on her face. This quickly subsides though as not long after Toni lets a tree branch fly back in her face.

The writers also try confuse you and make you think the reason why Toni  dislikes Shelby so much (at least untill episode 6 before the homophobia) is becuase of her possibly stealing her best friend away. Which of course played a part in it too.

The scenes of her looking at Martha and shelby was a common 0occurrence. You notice though, in most scenes how Martha is sort of out focus and in the backround while shelby takes up most of the shot. Indicating that shelby is the person Tonis gaze is fixed on.

I think the reason why Toni so strongly disliked Shelby in the beginning  is becuase she found herself attracted to her, which she obviously didnt like. With shelby having this happy go lucky optimistic front, and all the jesus talk really clashed with her pretty pesimistic personality. Not to mention how Toni thinks Shelby is extreamly privileged,which in a lot of aspects of her life she is. Considerably more after you find out Tonis backstory. So with that knowledge of her backround you could see why she would assume her life is better than hers. I mean she is a rich white girl from texas, so her assumption wasnt unreasonable. To Toni the idea of liking someone like Shelby is unexpected for her, so she does as much as possible to push her away. Explaining why she was pretty rude to her for the first half of the series. 

Along with Shelbys little “westburo baptist” moment Toni got pretty angry (rightly so) and this probably solidified the irationality of thease feelings she had for Shelby. Giving her even more of a reason to dislike her.

 Despite this Toni finds it in herself to try cheer her up when the two run into each other in the woods after Shelbys biggest insecurity is revealed by leahs theories. Tonis feelings for Shelby are on view a little bit here. Beforehand she barely could interact with her without expressing her dislike for Shelby.

 Though the mood shifts again after Shelby brings up the subject of her views on being gay.

Right up until shelby kisses her, Toni outwardly berates Shelby on how medieval her veiws are, and what a priveleged life she leads. She tells her on this island they are free, and Shelby takes this opportunity to show who she really is.

The kiss the two share as we all saw was in no way one sided, Toni does kiss her back. Obvioiusly this shocks Toni, as well as shelby herself. WIth shelby running off as she tries to escape what she just did with a girl who she thought hated her.

You immideatly see Toni run after her. Her feelings for this girl who Toni thought hated who she was where reciprocated. In this moment her whole attitude towards Shelby changes as she begins to understand why she is the way she is.

Shelby

Shelbys sexuality was pretty obvious to many of the LGBT viewers, we have all been there, obviously not the religious cult part, but putting up a front, hiding who we are. So it was easy to tell that she was gay from the beggining. Its also pretty common in the media to portray a closeted LGBT person like this. The question was how the writers where going to go about revealing the fact that she is gay.

You notice Shelbys attempts to be friendly towards Toni pretty early on with inviting her out to the first exhibition. Of course we all know it ends with her getting a branch to the face. But when questioned about the cut on her temple, she doesnt reveal that Toni was the one who caused it. 

Though as we all know as Shelby begins to become friends with Martha, Toni becomes increasingly more hostile towards her. Probably shattering the hopes of being friends. So we see less of Shelbys perspective of the relestionship between the two from her, and more from Toni. The two become pretty bitter with each other after the shelter building contest, the tension rising pretty quickly, although it seems that Toni is always the one who initiates the fights they have. Even after Toni destroys the hut and storms off, Shelby goes to find her and still tries to have a friendly conversation, possibly she went to comfort her, but of course we know from watching Toni interact with those around her she only initates in deep conversation with those she trusts, and the weird feelings she has for Shelby probably didnt help. 

Fast forward to episode six and Shelby has her little moment when the others are joking around with the shellfish. Of course this one isnt as subtle as previous scenes but it shows Shelbys internalized homophobia.The gestures Toni demonstrated made her uncomfortable becuase she knew thats who she was, the idea of being gay freaked her out, so she did the only thing to stop it. To lash out and reveal how she truely felt about herself. She proably never intended on revealing this, becuase really she doesnt hate the fact that Toni is gay. She hated the fact that she is gay herself. This probably shattered any hope of frienship with Toni after this incedent. (She also mentioned to martha afterwards that she knew it would happen, this revealation pushed everyone away from her considerably for the rest of the season)

When everyone begins to get sick, we see Shelby desperatly trying to prove to everyone and Toni that, she doesnt hate her. Ofcourse we knew by now that the two felt something for each other. In a way this was Shelbys feelings acting out. Her romantic feelings yes, but mostly guilt.Ignoring the others offers to let them give her the pill, instead she desperatly overcomes Tonis pride. Making her take the pill  forcably, so that she would stay alive.

Just before the two share their first kiss, shelby finally opens up about how miserable she finds her life. Toni as we know with a troubled backround claims that she cant “out sad” her. The only thing that Toni has that Shelby doesnt is freedom. Toni seeing the solution around them points out she is more free than ever and that moment you see the contemplation in her face, you can almost see whats going on in her mind just before she leans in and impulsively kisses Toni.

She then runs, obviously horrified with herself. The immeanse internalised homohpbia making her feel ashamed for following her heart.

I honestly loved watching this couple come together, their chemistry and writing was great and super intriuging to watch. I am glad a rewatched it again, there was a few things I missed out on in the first veiwing becuase i was too busy chanting “kiss! kiss! kiss!” everytime they appeared on screen together. This is completley my interpretation of their releationship and how the scenes are done, I honestly could be completley wrong and they are as they are shown to be on the surface. I just really enjoy delving deep into the motives and feelings of characters I enjoy watching. :)

*Edit* My apologies if this is written bad! At the time when I wrote this I was extremely tired. I hadn't slept the night before and I was just back from a full day of school.

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 1}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A/N: Fun fact about this one, y’all. I wrote the first chapter over 3 years ago and it was for a completely different story. This one has evolved on it's own and Tara and I are so excited to finally share it with you.

Word Count: 3493

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Zeus

– King of the gods and ruler of Mount Olympus; god of the sky, lightning, thunder and law.

The waves lapped against the sand as Aelin sighed. Strong hands rubbed the muscles in her back and worked out the kinks in her neck as the warm sun heated her body. The smell of the salt water filled her senses and she settled into the cushioned chaise. Another set of hands set a fruity looking drink with a little pink umbrella on the table next to her head. She smiled at it.

“Can we get you anything else, miss?”

Aelin opened her mouth to tell them exactly what they could do to her.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Aelin’s eyes snapped open and she glared at her phone, chiming at her to get up.

She groaned, reaching for the offending device and silenced it, pulling her pillow over her head. She began to doze back off when her bedroom door flew open, smacking into the dresser on the wall behind it. She sat bolt upright and found her roommate leaning against the doorframe, a bowl of cereal in her hands and a gleam of mischief in her emerald eyes.

“Rise and shine, princess,” Lysandra drawled. Aelin just continued to scowl at her roommate. The bright warmth of the sun in her dream faded away as she looked out the window. Ice coated it and she could see a fresh layer of snow coated everything. “Aedion is about to be up, too. If you’d like any chance of taking a warm shower before class today, I’d suggest-.”

She was up and in the hallway before Lysandra could even finish her sentence.

Thirty minutes later, she sat on the kitchen counter, hair wrapped up in a towel, eating an apple and going over her schedule for the thousandth time. Her four classes were split into two days each, mercifully giving her Friday off.

Her cousin, long golden hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, came into the kitchen, pulling the jug of milk out of the fridge. He leaned on the counter across from her and drank straight from the plastic bottle, glaring daggers at her.

“Can I help you with something,” she asked him sweetly.

“You used the last of the hot water,” Aedion sulked, taking another swig.

She looked over, blowing him a quick kiss. “Maybe you should have gotten up earlier.”

He rolled his eyes, identical to her own, and came over to look at her computer screen. “What classes do you have this semester?”

She scrolled down the list, reading them off. “Pathophysiology, Caring for the Childbearing Family, Health and Gerontology, a few labs, and Mythology.”

Aedion’s eyebrows pulled together as she read the last one. “That doesn’t seem like it will be very helpful to a nurse.”

She shrugged, closing the laptop and sliding off the counter. “I needed one last elective. I’ve always been interested in Greek and Roman mythology and it’s a freshman level class. I figured why not study something for fun for once?”

He couldn’t fault her logic and began pulling ingredients out of the fridge to cook breakfast as Aelin headed back towards her bedroom. “Whatever you’re cooking, make two,” she called over her shoulder. She didn’t even need to look back to know the obscene gesture being flicked in her direction.

-------------------

Aelin was regretting studying something fun for once as she looked at the map of her classes.

All of her classes, save for one, were in the nursing building. Of course, that one other class was all the way across campus, in one of the general education buildings. At least walking there would take her right past her favorite coffee shop on campus and with an eight am every Tuesday and Thursday morning, she knew she’d take full advantage of that.

Thankfully today was a Monday, so she’d be spending the entirety of her day in the nursing building. But first, she had to have coffee. The first day of the semester required coffee.

Aelin parked in one of the student lots close to the nursing building. Throwing her leather bag over her shoulder, she slammed her car door. It was absolutely freezing and she suppressed a growl as she saw soft white flakes drifting toward the ground.

What a great way to start off the semester, she thought.

She made her way across campus, hands deep in her pockets and face buried in her scarf. As she crossed the quad, she pulled her phone out to check the time. She still had about twenty minutes to get coffee and get to class. Snow crunched under her boots as she picked up the pace, wanting to be sure she made it on time. Aelin was big on first impressions.

As she approached the door of the café, she reached for the handle, but the door swung open suddenly, slamming into her and knocking her off her feet.

The young girl, eyes wide, apologized profusely but said that she had to get to class and ran off. Aelin was mumbling something about where the freshman could go, when she heard a deep chuckle and a tan, tattooed hand appeared in front of her face. She glanced up and the air was pulled from her lungs.

The owner of the hand was a handsome man in his mid-twenties, with hair the color of the snow swirling around his head and green eyes. Not emerald like Lysandra’s, but deep and rich like a pine tree. A tattoo, similar to the one on his hand, snaked up his neck and onto his face. She’d be willing to bet it ran down the whole length of his arm. She’d love to find out for herself. He smiled at her, a wicked, beautiful smile. She could only stare at the gorgeous stranger as she gripped her hand in his. He lifted her to her feet.

“You okay?” He asked. Aelin nodded, pulling her hand out of his. He opened the door and motioned for her to go ahead of him. She stepped into the delicious warmth and immediately got her wits back.

“I’m Aelin,” she said, giving him a man eater’s smile.

“Rowan,” he said, a slight incline of his head in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, Rowan,” she said, letting his name slip out of her lips like a purr, as she’d heard Lysandra do it to her cousin many times. She knew it drove Aedion crazy and for some reason, that’s exactly what she wanted to do to this man. She walked to the line. He got in line behind her and she pulled out her phone, figuring that would be that. A bit of shameless flirting with a stranger was never a bad thing. She ordered her coffee and was surprised when the barista handed her the paper cup, a phone number written on the side. She quirked an eyebrow at the girl, who gave Aelin a knowing glance and looked over her shoulder. Aelin turned around, meeting a pine green gaze, and smiled at him. She headed back out into the frost and snow, pulling her phone out to snap a picture of the cup to send to Lysandra, knowing her best friend would love this.

Finding the classroom in the nursing building where she’d spent the bulk of the past two years was a breeze and she made it into the classroom with seven minutes to spare. She enjoyed her time with Professor Hafiza in the fall and anticipated she’d like her this semester again, too. Nonetheless, she settled in about three-quarters of the way up and looked at the coffee cup again.

Feeling bold, she entered the number into her phone and sent a quick text.

Any chance you want to sweep me off of my feet again and grab drinks later? I’m free anytime after 5:00. – Aelin.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

My last class lets out at 6:00 and I have to go to the gym afterward. How does 8:00 sound?

She typed a quick reply and placed her phone back on her desk.

Sounds like a date. The Beer Cellar, on Church Street.

She smirked to herself and glanced down at her watch. 9:58. Not even 10:00 am and the semester was off to a great start.

She unlocked her phone, shooting a quick text to Lysandra, letting her know about her new plans for the evening when she heard the door open and students started to hush.

It wasn’t the most exciting class, Aelin had to admit, but she supposed the information was necessary. Hopefully it wasn’t an indication of how the rest of her semester would go. She needed a little excitement in her schedule, that was for sure.

Aelin liked to be kept on her toes.

After two classes and a crappy salad for lunch from the school cafeteria, Aelin was hurrying across campus and down the street, toward her apartment. Lysandra was nowhere to be found, which meant she was either snuggled up with Aedion somewhere or still in class. Aelin’s bet was on the former.

After organizing her deskspace, Aelin went to her closet, and attempted to pick out what she should wear for the night. It was her first date of the semester, which either meant that it could be a complete win or a complete fail.

She ultimately decided that the sluttier the better.

Laying the gold dress out on her bed, she let herself into the Lysandra’s room, borrowing a pair of strappy black heels she knew her roommate would absolutely approve of and was back out the door, ready to suffer through her first lab of the semester. Three hours was going to drag by, but thankfully, it was only once a week.

And drag by it did, but Aelin wasn’t sure if it was thanks to the monotonous recap of her previous semester’s information or thinking about seeing Rowan again. She usually wasn’t so forward, even though Rowan had clearly been the one to start it all, giving her his number. But still, she typically would have at least waited a day or two before texting him.

But there was just something about him that she couldn’t get out of her head.

She grabbed her gym bag out of the car, thankful she had a bit of time to get a work out in before she went out. Thanks to tonight, Aelin was a pent up ball of energy and needed to get it out someway. After a solid forty-five minutes on the treadmill and nearly thirty on the free weights, Aelin was heading for the locker room when she noticed a silver head of hair across the gym.

She watched him as he pulled himself up on the bar, his chin going over the piece of metal each time. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, sweat poured down his chest as his arms swelled. Aelin had been right.

That tattoo went across his chest, and all the way down his arm. He did the pull-ups so effortlessly, and Aelin’s mind began to wander to unholy places.

It wasn’t until his feet hit the mat beneath him that she was brought back to reality and hurried into the locker room. If he was here, that meant their date was approaching, and she had to get ready. She checked her phone. It was nearly seven.

Aelin hurried back home and showered. She had once vowed, during her freshman year, that she would avoid the gym showers at all costs and only used them under emergency circumstances. Luckily, her and Lysandra’s apartment was only five minutes from the gym.

After a shower and a full-body shaving session, Aelin was brushing out her long, golden hair and blow drying it until it was flowing freely down her back. She kept her makeup decently simple - at least, that’s how she made it look, and straightened the slight waves out of her hair before putting on her little, golden dress.

Once she had slipped on Lysandra’s heels, she was looking at herself in the mirror and even she had to admit that she was looking hot.

After grabbing her clutch, she hurried down the hallway and into the living room, where she found Lysandra and Aedion snuggled together on the couch, watching a movie.

“Going out with a stranger?” Lysandra asked, brow raised. “I'm so proud of you.”

“Yeah, just keep it in your pants,” Aedion mumbled.

“I thought I’d bring him back here,” she said, winking at Lysandra. “You don’t want to have breakfast together tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not,” Aedion mumbled and Lysandra chuckled, leaning into his embrace.

“Have fun, call me if you need me,” Lysandra called as Aelin blew them a kiss and headed for the door.

Her Uber was waiting when she walked out front and before she knew it, she was walking down the stairs into her favorite bar. Glancing around, she didn’t see Rowan sitting at the bar or any of the booths around the room.

So she bought herself a drink and claimed one of the pool tables, setting her coat and clutch on a bar stool nearby. Over halfway through the game, she felt eyes on her and glanced up to find Rowan standing at the other end of the table. Giving him a smirk, she knocked the cue ball into the yellow-striped 9 ball. It sank into the pocket.

“Playing with yourself?” Rowan asked, and Aelin caught a slight accent that she had missed earlier.

Aelin’s grin widened. “Well, if I’m left hanging, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.”

Rowan breathed a laugh. “Fair enough. And if I asked to join?”

“You sure you don’t just want to watch?” she asked, leaning on the table, making sure her cleavage was perfectly visible.

Rowan’s tongue shot out and subtly licked his bottom lip. “Tempting.”

Aelin pushed herself back and grabbed the rack, starting to collect the balls. “Buy me a drink and then we’ll talk.”

Rowan bit his lip to hide his spreading grin. “Fair enough. I’ll be back.”

Aelin watched as he left, watched as he went to the bar and bought her another drink, alongside one for himself. He came back with two glasses. One was the color of the sunrise, the other a caramelly brown.

“Sex on the Beach?” Aelin asked, brow raised.

He shrugged and handed her the glass. “Sounded promising.”

“So… Rowan,” she said, letting his name drag out as she said it. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and the black Henley he wore made his hair seem even brighter in the dim light of the bar.

“Aelin,” he purred right back, pulling a pool stick from the wall behind her, nearly boxing her in. She realized then how much larger than her he was.

She loved it.

“I hope your coffee helped you get through the rest of your day,” she said, resetting the game and racking the balls. She glanced at him over her shoulder as she reached into the middle of the table, and he was watching her, staring at her ass.

Slutty was definitely the right option tonight.

“It certainly did, especially considering how boring it was,” he replied, reaching around her for the chalk that rested on the edge of the table. “But when I got your text, it gave me something to look forward to. Even if it made the day last twice as long.”

“Happy I could help.” She picked her drink up and stirred it, before taking a long sip through the straw.

“Would you like to break, or should I?” He asked, nodding to the pool table.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

He grunted as he stepped forward, lined up his stick, and knocked the cue ball into the others. They broke apart, but none of them fell into the pockets. Rowan stood there for a moment, his lips pursed. Meanwhile, Aelin tossed her head back and burst into laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Rowan said, straightening up and turning to face her. “So pool isn’t my thing.”

Aelin stepped up next to him and aimed her stick, leaning over the table, her ass nearly rubbed up against Rowan’s front. “Hopefully you’re better at other things.”

Rowan’s hand brushed along Aelin’s hip, just as she got ready to shoot, causing her shot to go haywire. She spun around, eyes narrowed. “That’s foul play.”

“No one said we were playing fair,” he countered.

“What about playing for drinks?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

He lifted his own eyebrows and he said, “I’ve got an eight am…”

Shrugging, she said, “So do I.” Then she leaned in close, thankful for the three-inch heels she’d pilfered from Lysandra’s closet and breathed into his ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re up in time.”

“So sure of how this night is going to go,” he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear him, and she felt his hand skimming over the curve of her ass. “Fine. We’ll play for drinks.”

It turned out Rowan hadn’t been lying about pool not being his thing. They played three games back to back, and he lost them all, but every time he returned with a drink for Aelin, he had one for himself as well. By the time she dragged him towards the small dance floor in the center of the bar, they were both stumbling and his lips found her neck before his hands even gripped her hips.

His lips were soft, gentle, nothing like she had expected. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was just getting tired, perhaps he was usually rough.

But, when his hands found Aelin’s hips and he brought her back into him, she felt that roughness. It seemed Rowan was the best of both worlds. Gentle when prompted, rough beneath the surface.

Aelin turned to him and slung her arms around his neck, bringing his lips to hers. Their mouths crashed into one another, and their bodies slowed until it felt like they were the only two on the dancefloor.

Rowan pulled away, just a little bit, and breathed, his eyes wild, “Aelin-.”

“Take me to your place,” she said, her mouth finding his, once again.

Before she knew what was happening, they were in the backseat of an Uber, unable to keep their hands off of one another. Thanks to it being a college town, the driver didn’t say a word, just dropped them in front of an upscale building, just off the east side of campus.

She noticed how nice it was on the short elevator ride up, but was much more preoccupied by the way his hips pressed into hers. He dragged her along the hall, his lips never leaving hers, until her back was pressed against a cool door and he was fumbling to get it unlocked. It swung wide and she gripped his collar, pulling him inside.

Throwing her clutch and coat by the door, Aelin let her hands dive into his cropped silver hair and he responded by cupping her ass and lifting her up. Her legs were around his waist and he carried her through the apartment and into his bedroom. Neither of them had any delusions about how and where this would end and Aelin felt like she was going to combust as he dropped her on the bed and gazed down at her.

His eyes were full of lust, full of hunger, a wild animal with his eye on his prey. He wasted no time stripping Aelin down and admiring her body with his hands, his tongue, his lips. Rowan may not have been good at pool, but he was right when he said he was far better at other things.

He worshipped her, and Aelin knew it wasn’t the alcohol when she was sent into utter bliss.

When he rolled off of her, breath still uneven, Aelin watched as he dealt with the condom and fell back into the bed beside her.

She cleared her throat. “I can go��if you want me to.”

Rowan turned to look at her, and she could tell he was still just as drunk as she was. “What? No, of course not. You said you’ve got an eight am, too, right?” She nodded and he tugged on her hand, pulling her closer to him. They were both still gloriously naked and she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. “Then we can both make sure the other is up so we aren’t late. Or too hungover.”

Aelin snorted softly, resting her head on his chest. “I think that particular ship has sailed.”

“You’re probably right,” he mumbled and she could tell he was already starting to doze. She was on the brink of sleep herself.

Aelin decided then, as her eyes closed, that she didn’t care if she was hungover in the morning, or if she was late to her eight am. A night being praised by Rowan had been perfectly worth it.

[rainileo]

hilariously unpredictable

bf!mingyu x (female reader)

warnings: pwp, somewhat domestic bf mingyu, sweet bf mingyu, best boy mingyu, ass play, spanking, ass biting (?), mingyu likes ass lol, unprotected sex, anal sex, choking, anal fingering, size kink, crying, dom mingyu, mingyu is very skilled sexually lol, pussy slapping, squirting, swearing

lmk if i miss anything (not completely proof read)

feedback is appreciated!

anon’s asked;

What would it feel like to try anal with Mingyu for the first time?

oh my god I can’t stop thinking about mingyu and pussy slapping

a/n: mingyu is our resident ass man,,, so obviously i had to write this lmao. the dialogue kinda lacks and sorry if it makes no sense )i was high writing this im sorry landjsk)

mingyu could be hilariously unpredictable sometimes.

especially in the bedroom. it could be confusing and unexpected when he would randomly come to you, curiously asking if you’d like to try something new in bed. it was surprising because he would always suggest the most random things, varying to very questionable kinks and positions, and so much more.

but it was good, his unpredictability left you on edge, always wondering what he would suggest next, and if it would be something new that you both like and so on.

that was one of the many reasons why you loved mingyu; he was so comfortable around you and could easily express himself around you without judgment. it was a both way type thing and it worked out for the two of you.

now the two of you were seated on the couch, him laying on top of you, head resting on your chest and gently stroking your side underneath yours (his) shirt.

“babe.” mingyu says flatly, looking up to you. the both of you were originally watching the movie until he caught your attention, the movie soon forgotten.

you knew this scenario all to well, recalling him always starting with the ‘babe’.

you turned to him and sigh, “yeah?” you question, tilting your head to the side. his hand that was rubbing your side now squeezes your waist, him now leaving gentle kisses on your chest. once again, you knew this situation all too well and was already preparing for him to suggest something.

“i was talking to the guys,” he says between kisses, “and...” he trails off, biting down into your skin roughly and looks up to you with those eyes. you bite your lip in anticipation, feeling yourself buzz in excitement, “and?” you question a little too quickly for your liking.

“i wanna try anal.” he throws out, squeezing your waist tightly in question and you feel your stomach toss at the proposal. again, he leaves you breathless from his unpredictability. you almost feel lightheaded thinking about it, wondering if it would be a hit or miss.

your heart begins to pound in your chest and you nod, smiling at him happily.

mingyu, being the best boyfriend he is, took you to the shower to help you clean, and he even went over precautions and rules to keep you comfortable and safe. he also fingered you to prepare you as well, stretching you out only using his spit for lubricant.

once the two of you finish, he carries you to the bedroom, sitting himself down on the edge of your shared bed and positioning you to stand between his legs.

you were both completely bare, water droplets still making their way down your damp bodies. the air was cold until his hands immediately find their usual spot on your ass, pulling you closer to him, pressing your chest against his and wrapping your arms around his neck.

his larger body immediately radiated heat on to you, causing you to shiver from the new found warmth. he found it incredibly endearing they way you were so small compared to him that even when he sat on your shared bed that was pretty high up off the ground, his form still towers over you.

“god i love how small you are.” he grunts out and leans in, kissing you roughly. you gasp out against his lips as he spanks your ass harshly; he then takes advantage of your open mouth and forcefully shoves his tongue in to your entrance to explore. you allow him in and continue to intensely make out.

your hands grip onto his shoulders, digging your nails into him as he roughly grabs your ass, spanking it again. you squirm on him and moan into his mouth out of reaction and he pulls away, leaving the two of you breathless, chests both heaving up and down.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence, both staring in awe at each other as the both of you are still slightly damp, swollen lips from the intense kisses and skin a light blush red from the heat of the moment.

but the heat of the moment is cut short when you open your mouth, “who the hell is going on about anal over there?” you randomly blurt out, ruining your sensual moment with mingyu. he burst out laughing at your sudden question, because he didn’t really have a valid answer either.

“it was in the moment,” he says between laughs. you laugh at his excuse and he continues, “it was just the direction of the conversation, just-,” he cuts himself off and pauses, closing his eyes to attempt to regain composure and so do you, successfully failing and laughing together again.

“-just don’t ask?” you finish his sentence, placing your small hands on his cheeks gently. he laughs out of his nose, snorting again cutely and leaning to you once more, pressing your noses together. he nods, agreeing with your comment, “yeah, just don’t ask.” he jokingly dismisses, leaning in to kiss you again, large hands roughly gripping your ass again. he smiles into the kiss and moves his tongue to lick against your bottom lip, making you whimper slightly.

the mood shifts back as you guys kiss for a few more minutes until he pulls away, moving down towards your neck and giving wet kisses all over it. he immediately finds your sweet spot, licking and sucking over it, causing you to moan and shift in front of him. he notes the way your chest rubs against his, your nipples getting harder every time you move. he bends over and leaves his original spot to move down to your boobs, giving them both missed attention by pulling your nipples occasionally and massaging them.

you watch down on him, playing with his hair and biting your lip in anticipation, revelling in the feeling of his mouth. he pulls away and suddenly grips your hips and turns you around in 180 degrees.

you yelp at the suddenness but allow him to manhandle you the way he wants. he moves his hands to your thighs underneath your ass and strokes the skin, pinching causing you to softly gaso. you brace yourself on his knees beside you and he hunches over, leaning down to your tailbone, giving it gentle kisses too.

you reach a hand around to grip his hair, threading your fingers through his locks and pulling as begins he digs his nails into your skin. you flip your hair to the side to get a better look at him and he looks up at you, giving you a devious smirk, biting harshly on the curve of you spine.

your eye brows knit together when he moves his hand between your thighs, index finger lightly brushing against your core. your breathing increases, the sounds of it resounding between the two of you. you shiver and goosebumps erupt along your skin as he strokes the inside of your thigh, avoiding where you needed him the most.

“fuck.” you spit, the gentleness of your voice contrasting the way he suddenly, not so gently slaps your pussy. you yelp and bite your lip, fingers gripping his hair tightly again.

he lifts his head back to level with yours to move your hair over your shoulder and kisses you gently, biting too. “you’re such a good girl for me.” the praise goes straight to you core and you squirm, awaiting his next move.

the friction immediately giving you pleasure. your eyes flutter close in reaction to his touches as he continues to play with you. he leans over to the side table with his other hand and reaches for your lube, speedily putting some on his finger in and going to your awaiting hole and pushing it in quickly and unexpectedly. your mouth drops open in surprise, moaning out and then biting your lip to conceal your noises. the feeling was still foreign but pleasurable. you revel in the slow building pleasure as he pumps his finger into you, his preparation ritual the exact same as he would with the other hole. your knees almost give out from the new pleasure, it all becoming overwhelming in your standing position, which you curse him for putting you in.

“more please,” you weakly let out, moving your hand down to your bundle of nerves to relieve yourself, roughly rubbing to assist in the achievement of pleasure and comfort.

over a few minutes he adds more fingers, slowly and soon enough he has four fingers knuckle deep inside you, pumping in and out of you. you finally indicate that you’re ready when you release a pleasured sigh. he notices and perks,

“are you ready?” he whispers against your spine and you whine, gripping his hair tighter to show your response (which is obviously yes). he smiles against your skin, removing his fingers and impressively picking you up by your rib cage and places you over his lap, straddling him. you’re still facing the opposite direction from him, wanting to see him but he uses your new position to push your chest forwards to kiss and bite at the supple skin of your ass.

you dig your nails into his thigh in reaction and wiggle your ass in his face teasingly. he takes that opportunity to spank you again, a red hand print blooming on your skin. he puts you back into your original position, pulling you against his chest by putting his hand around your neck, lightly asphyxiating you. “are you ready for my cock baby?” he says, now rubbing his dick against your rim, awaiting your approval.

you nod and you turn to face him and lean in to kiss him for the nth time. while you to kiss sloppily, he directs his cock to your hole and pushes in slowly. you whine into his mouth, gripping onto him aggressively, trying to find a way to distract yourself from the burning stretching pain.

“f-fuck, mingyu holy shit.” you never let go of your grip on him, probably leaving colourful marks that he will have to hide later. you struggle and you try to relax around him, as he is barely half way in you. he grunts into your ear and grips your neck harder. “fucking relax.” he demands and you whine out, closing your eyes and concentrating on relaxing.

sometimes mingyu's large dick could be really exciting when it’s in other places other than your ass, but then again you remember you felt the same way when you first fucked him, with the alternative hole.

once you’re finally relaxed, he easily slides fully into you. you let out a long moan, a hand moving to grip his hair between your fingers.“jesus fuck.” you let out against him, your breathing laboured from the new intense feeling. he smiles again at you reaction, now grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his dick.

he loves how uncensored you can become during sex and always finds it incredibly hot. you feel that he enjoyed that when he twitches inside you. “such a dirty mouth.” he comments and you whimper, moving your hips with his force that pushes them.

he moves his right hand between your legs and goes straight to your dripping core, rubbing over your wet hole, and the left moving to wrap around your waist to hold you flush against him.

his fingers easily slide in. you gasp and turn your head to look between your legs. you were dripping around his fingers, the wetness adding as lubricant.

“you fucking love being filled like this, don’t you?” he nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, simultaneously taking in your scent. he pushes on, his words going straight to your center, making you clench around his digits. you nod your head furiously and he chuckles into your ear.

his cock continues to slide in and out of you, the feeling of him against both your walls being practically euphoric.

his fingers strategically thrust inside of you, his thumb going to your clit and rubbing, causing you to moan out, face contorting out of pleasure.

the sensations were so overwhelming and you already felt yourself coming to your end, legs shaking around him.

his fingers and cock coincidentally hit your spots at the exact same time and you throw your head back onto his shoulder,

“fuck!” you let out, back arching and mouth dropping open. his fingers pick up their pace, his hips too; and you feel your end nearing, body practically on fire as sweat builds everywhere. you moan out his name and a string of curses.

his dexterity is mind blowing, to the way he strategically thrusts his hips up into you, his cock going balls deep into you, and the way his fingers pump at the perfect pace and to his thumb that immediately found your clit, and how he altogether manages to hold you against him. he just focuses on your pleasure, letting you build your release. you tightly clench around him with both holes and suddenly your squirting around his fingers, yours and his thighs, including the sheets, now soaked.

seeing you squirt and your essence falling everywhere, and the moan you were releasing is absolutely sinful and it fuels him as he removes his hands from your core and falls onto his back to start roughly fucking up into you. his feet planted onto the floor and yours beside his thighs. you begin to cry from the overstimulation, entire body shaking from the pleasure.

the both of you have completely lost focus as he chases his high and you slump forward onto his knees, his hands going back to your ass as he spanks it way harder than before and you growl and clench around him, too weak to pull yourself up.

“shit” he loudly rasps out, and you just let him fuck you like a doll, you arching your back for him to get a proper view of your center. he groans out, throwing his head back as his hips stutter. his orgasm creeps up on him and he sweats profusely, the physical activity drenching him, including your juices.

“cum in me.” you weakly command and he complies, holding his hips against your pelvis balls deep inside you. you weakly whimper when you feel his cum shoot deep inside you and your arms give out, falling forward between his legs. he lets his hips fall onto the bed as he slumps against the mattress, his grip on your hips letting up.

you both try to regain composure, closing your eyes and breathing heavily. he makes the first move by sitting up and pulling you up too. you tiredly pull yourself up with him, leaning into his back comfortably. he easily ou je you up to pull himself out of you and seats you on his lap. his body cradles you as he moves his fingers down between your thighs to pick up the excess cum that rests in you.

he brings his soiled fingers to your mouth and you take them in slowly, humming at the taste of the mixture of yours and his cum.

“you’re such a good girl for me.” he praises, and your bliss is ruined when he slaps your pussy unexpectedly. you squeal and close your legs around his hand instinctively.

“did you like it?” he questions, his tone is unmoving and it calms you, your heart rate slowing down again. he strokes your inner thighs calmly and you gulp and close your eyes, nodding in response, to tired to accumulate words. he sighs in content at your answer, letting himself relax with you. everything goes silent, and your warmth radiates off of each other, causing you to both have a light sheen of sweat across the both of you. “are you in pain?” the air is calm and your heart beats are the only noises that you both hear, he snuggles into your neck, inhaling your scent and shake your head no. you feel his body relax from your response, worried that he could’ve possibly hurted you.

the air is silent and still.

“let’s do it again.” the stillness is quickly broken when you finally gain the strength to speak. he quirks and chuckles, moving his mouth to your ear, “think you can take it?” his tone is dark again, as he speaks deep into your ear, causing you to shiver, pussy pulsing again.

“fuck yes.” that was all you had to say for him to shove your face into the mattress with your ass up, immediately starting another round.

[dearkusuo]

Unchanging

Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.6k

You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.

“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed. 

Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.

You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.

The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along. 

They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.

You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.

Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.

Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.

You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers. 

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun. 

You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.

You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future. 

Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret. 

You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.

He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.

 You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.

‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.

You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.

The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.

“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.

‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.

“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”

Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.

For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him. 

You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.

Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.

You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again. 

 The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.

‘Why are you laughing?’

“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.

‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’

You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.

You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.

‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’

He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.

"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."

'It should be fine if it's you.'

You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.

You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.

‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’

“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'

You pursed your lips in uncertainty.

"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."

'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’

You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.

“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”

‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’

You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

‘Thank you.’

Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook. 

“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”

‘I know.’

He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”

You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.

“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.

‘Violet.’

“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”

‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’

“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.

Saiki shook his head.

“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”

You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.

‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’

Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.

Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face. 

You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.

Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.

Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.

“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”

Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.

“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”

You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.

“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.

A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”

“An indefinite amount of time.”

“Are you ever coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Their glum faces only worsened your mood.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.

No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.

Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.

After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”

You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.

The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.

“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.

You could never say no to him.

Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit. 

You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.

‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.

You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.

He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.

He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.

“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.

What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?

Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum. 

Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision? 

Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.

Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.

Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.

 You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.

Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.

You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out. 

It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.

The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.

"There he is."

The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.

He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.

"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.

You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home. 

Neither one of you let go.

"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.

A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.

He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes. 

"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.

Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.

'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'

“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.

‘Not quite.’

Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.

'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.

“I love you.”

He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.

‘I know.’

Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.

You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.

No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.

[lucys-key]

Unexpected Encounters (Eren Yeager x Reader)

Part 1: Long Time, No See

An unexpected encounter one night reunites you with someone you haven't seen in a long time, but have also never quite forgotten about. (College/Modern AU).

Rating: Mature for now, but will probably change to explicit. (18+ only)

Warnings: Some cursing in this part, but otherwise no warnings. Let me know if you find anything else I should tag, though!

A/N: This is kinda something I’ve been writing for fun, haha, so I hope you enjoy!

...

It was the summer before your first year of college.

A summer that was a whirlwind of planning, buying everything you could think of that you might need, and saying goodbye to old friends.

You were equal parts nervous and excited. You were looking forward to getting away from the people at your high school, four years having been quite enough time with all of them, but you were also sad to be leaving the friends you had made. Anxiety about leaving home for the first time was also beginning to creep up as you got closer to move-in day. Needless to say, it was a stressful time.

You took a deep breath as you looked around your room. There was still so much that needed to be done, but it was such a nice day outside. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on getting your shit together for school when you were missing out on your last summer before your first stage of adulthood.

Instead of packing, you walked over to the desk in your room where your phone was sitting and called your best friend Sasha. It was unfortunate, but you and Sasha had completely different interests when it came to academics, so when it was time to choose a college, you both ended up choosing rather different schools. Coming to terms with the fact that Sasha was not going to be there for you in-person everyday was perhaps one of the most difficult things about preparing to go off to college.

The line rang three times before Sasha picked up, her muffled greeting indicating that she was snacking on something, as per usual.

“What’s up?” she asked after swallowing her food. “Finished packing?”

You sighed and looked around your room which was a mess of boxes and clothes strewn around the floor that you were trying to decide whether or not to take with you.

“Nope. I’m procrastinating,” you said almost proudly. “This summer has gone by way too fast. I really thought I’d have more time to do everything.”

“Ugh, same,” Sasha groaned as she took another bite of whatever it was she was snacking on. “I take back what I said about wanting to further my education.”

You laughed and said, “I think it’s too late for that. Besides, don’t all freshmen get the unlimited meal plan at your school?”

Sasha squealed and you could feel her joy through the phone.

“YES!” she exclaimed. “And there are four dining halls to choose from. FOUR!”

“I’m happy for you and your culinary college journey,” you replied, feeling like you were really going to miss having your best friend around.

You heard a noise in the background that sounded like Sasha’s father, and sure enough, a second later Sasha said, “I’m happy for me, too, but hey, I gotta go. Fam requires my assistance.”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you through the phone. “Go assist. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alrighty, love you,” Sasha said and then hung up.

As you put your phone back down on the desk, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad. You only had a week before it was time to drive for four hours to your new home, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You still didn’t want to pack, and Sasha was busy so hanging out with her was also not an option.

Eventually, you sighed and stood up to face the inevitable: you had to pack, or at least organize your things. Before getting started, you walked over to the window next to your bed and looked outside. The sun was beginning to set, and it was still such a nice day. You pulled the window open to let in the warm summer breeze, and you heard the pleasant rustling of the leaves on the tree outside of your room.

After a few hours of packing, dinner, and watching Netflix, the sun had set completely, and you felt exhausted. You went to your dresser to put on an old, oversized t-shirt before going to the bathroom to complete your nighttime routine.

Once you were finished, you got into bed, pulled the covers over you, and soon enough you were fast asleep.

___

A loud noise.

You stirred in your sleep, not quite waking.

But then you heard another noise, and you sat up and opened your eyes, blinking them a few times to try and process your surroundings better. You looked around your room and didn’t see anything.

You felt a breeze and then realized that you had forgotten to close the window before going to bed. Deciding that the noise had been something from outside, you pushed your bed covers off of yourself to get up and close the window.

Only, as soon as your feet hit the ground and you took a step forward, you tripped over something on the floor and landed right on top of it. You groaned in pain, but before you could look to see what it was you had tripped on, an unfamiliar voice resonated throughout your bedroom.

“Ow, Jean. What the fuck?!”

You immediately froze. That was a person who just spoke. There was a person in your bedroom. A person you didn’t know, at least not by their voice.

After a few seconds, you got yourself together and quickly scrambled away from whoever it was lying on your bedroom floor. You stood up so you were looking down at them.

“Who are you?” you demanded, trying to keep the terrified edge out of your voice. Your eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dark room so you couldn’t get a good look at their face.

The person moved, presumably to sit up, and then there was a pause.

“What do you mean ‘who am I?’ Who are you?” the stranger demanded back.

You scoffed. “This is my room dumbass. Get out. Now.”

Whoever it was in your room made a noise of confusion, and you walked around your bed to turn on the lamp. It filled your room with a soft light.

When you walked back around to the other side of your bed, the stranger had stood up, but their back was turned to you. All you could see was brown hair tied into a loose, messy bun.

“This isn’t Jean’s room,” they remarked and then whipped around to face you.

“Hey, where the fuck am I?”

You stood still as you finally got a look at the stranger’s face. Although it had been a long time, you’d recognize those bright green eyes anywhere.

“Eren?” you asked in astonishment.

Eren’s eyes widened slightly, and you were more than a little surprised when he said your name in return. You were sure after six years he would’ve forgotten it— forgotten you. You had been nothing more than classmates, after all.

Eren stood for a few seconds, but then his face broke out into a grin.

“Damn. It’s been a long time,” he said your name again, and as he continued to look at you, you were suddenly reminded of how you must have looked. You had only worn an oversized shirt to bed. Thankfully, it covered the upper half of your thighs, but you still felt yourself wishing you had more clothes on, as Eren was completely dressed in black sweats, a grey t-shirt, and sneakers.

As you looked at his face, you couldn’t help but recognize how much he had changed over the last few years. You met him when you were just twelve years old and in junior high. His child-like features had disappeared completely, and he was nothing like the boy you remembered.

For starters, Eren had grown— a lot. His voice was deeper, which was why you weren’t able to recognize it earlier. His facial features were also much more defined, his cheekbones and jawline now standing out. And perhaps the most remarkable thing about Eren’s appearance was the fact that he had chosen to grow his hair out. Your memories of Eren were of a boy with short brown hair and green eyes, though those were still the same, running around as he played with his friends at school.

You only let yourself look at him for a few more seconds before addressing the issue that had woken you in the first place.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, still so very confused about how he managed to make it into your bedroom of all places.

Eren rubbed a hand on the back of his neck looking slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, right,” Eren said and laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I think I must’ve gotten the address confused.”

You almost wanted to roll your eyes in exasperation. What did that even mean? And what was he doing climbing into people’s rooms?

Eren must’ve seen your confusion so he continued his explanation.

“You know Jean, right?” he asked.

Oh yeah, you remembered. He had mentioned his name earlier. It just so happened that after Eren moved away during your second year of junior high—something to do with his dad’s job as a doctor, if you remembered correctly—Jean’s family also moved just across town to your street. You weren’t great friends with him, but you two had gone to the same high school. You also remembered that Eren and Jean used to be close friends before Eren moved away.

“This is my first time back here in a while,” Eren said. “Jean texted me his new address, but I’ve only been here like a day, and clearly haven’t figured everything out.”

Things were starting to make more sense to you, and Eren must have seen you relax slightly because he smiled.

“I don’t normally climb into people’s rooms, by the way,” Eren said, and took his phone out of his pocket to look again at the last text Jean had sent him. “Jean said I’d wake his parents if I went in the front door, so I should use the window since his room is close to the ground.”

Eren frowned and looked behind him at your own window which was still open. “Probably should’ve realized something was wrong when I had to climb a whole ass tree. That was exhausting.”

Despite everything, you found yourself laughing. You couldn’t believe that Eren had climbed all the way up a tree only to end up in your room. You bet he was just as confused as you were when he heard your voice instead of Jean’s.

You walked over to your dresser to take out a pair of shorts to cover yourself, and Eren turned away as you carefully put them on under your shirt.

“Why are you going to Jean’s at…” you started to ask, walking over to your desk to pick up your phone to check the time, “1:30 in the morning?”  

Eren, still standing in the middle of your room, raised his eyebrows and grinned.

“Curious, are we?” he joked, and you felt heat rush to your face.

“Not really,” you managed to say, moving away from your desk to sit on your bed. “Just thought I should know why I was woken up by you at such an hour.”

“Fair enough,” Eren replied.

Since you were sitting on your bed, he moved to lean against your desk which was across from you.

“I’m staying with Armin,” Eren continued, “but Jean and I were planning to see some people tonight before everyone leaves for school in the next few days.”

After junior high, Armin transferred to a private high school, but he still lived in the area. You guessed he and Eren had managed to stay best friends even after Eren moved.

“I see. That sounds fun,” you said, but then added, “Although, I’m not sure why your friends like to hang out so late.”

Eren laughed, showing his perfect teeth. “I take it you’re not a night person, then?”

You looked down, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

“Just not tonight,” you replied.

Eren nodded in understanding. He looked at you for a few moments, and you suddenly felt awkward. He was still standing, and you thought you should invite him to sit or something. Was that weird?

You quickly decided that it wasn’t really weird, and you gestured to the desk chair and said, “You can sit if you want.”

Eren looked at the chair, seeming like he hadn’t even realized it was there.

“Oh, sure,” he said, but seemed conflicted. “Only if you want, though,” he continued. “I know I kind of barged in here, and I don’t want to invade your space or keep you up or anything.”

His politeness made you smile, and you found that you didn’t mind his presence in the least.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied.

Eren smiled too and moved to sit on the chair, his front pressed against the back of it so you could still see his face. Eren rested his arms on the top of the back of the chair and leaned forward.

“So how have you been?” he asked, your name leaving his mouth at the end of the question.

Six years was a long time to recap, so you just said, “Pretty good, although I have been stressed lately, as you can see.” You gestured to the many boxes sitting around the floor of your room.

Eren laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, my room looks similar. I needed to get away, and this seemed like a good escape, but I still have so much shit to do when I get back home,” he sighed.

“How long are you here for?” you asked, trying to keep your tone disinterested.

“Just until tomorrow,” he replied.

You were about to say something, but then Eren’s phone began to ring. He muttered “Sorry,” as he took the phone out of his pocket.

Eren turned his head to face the ground as he answered the phone, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“What do you want, horseface?” you heard him say as a greeting. You almost snorted as you realized horseface had to be Jean.

While Eren was talking, you took out your own phone and began to scroll through it mindlessly, not wanting to seem like you were eavesdropping on his conversation. You almost texted Sasha about what was happening, but then decided to wait.

After about a minute or so, Eren hung up the phone. You turned off your phone and looked up to see an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry, but I think I have to go,” Eren said, and he almost looked disappointed.

You also felt slightly disappointed but didn’t want to keep Eren from seeing his friends.

“Okay,” you said, and then looked over to your window. Was he planning to climb back out of it?

Eren followed your gaze and seemed to read your thoughts.

“Uh, would it be alright if I used your front door this time?” he asked, laughing shyly.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, feeling stupid. Of course he didn’t want to climb down a tree.

“Thanks,” Eren replied, obviously grateful, and he stood up from the chair.

You got off of your bed and walked towards your bedroom door. Before you opened it, you turned to Eren and said, “We have to be quiet, though. I don’t want to wake anyone.”

He smiled and nodded in understanding.

“Got it,” he whispered.

You turned the handle of your door slowly and pushed it open. With Eren close behind, you led him through the dark hallway to the stairs.

Unfortunately, your stairs were old and fairly steep, so navigating them in the dark would prove to be fairly difficult. You both made it about half-way down without a sound, but then you put your foot in front of you and accidentally missed the next step.

You felt yourself slipping, but then an arm from behind you wrapped around your waist before you could fall.

“Careful,” Eren warned.

“Thanks,” you said, and found yourself laughing at your clumsiness. In response, Eren laughed too. He still had his arm around you, and he was so close that you could hear the sound right next to your ear.

You breathed in deep as you were also able to take in his scent. He smelled like the outside, like smoke and the tree he had climbed, but there was also something sweet, like vanilla.

You heard Eren whisper your name from behind you and snapped out of your trance.

“Sorry,” you said, and then Eren moved his arm back to his side as you continued to walk down the stairs, paying extra attention to where you placed your feet.

After you successfully made it down without another incident, you walked to your front door and pulled it open. You felt the warm summer air rush over your body as you walked outside with Eren. You shut the door behind you so you could say goodbye without anyone in your house hearing.

You and Eren stood awkwardly for a moment, neither of you knowing how to say goodbye. What were you supposed to say? Everything you came up with in your head sounded embarrassing.

But then Eren smiled and laughed nervously, and you felt the tension disappear as it became clear that you and Eren both felt awkward.

You smiled back at him and asked, “Do you know where you’re going?”

Eren put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and nodded. “Yep. Looks like I had gotten the last number of the address wrong.”

You made a sound of understanding and were about to say something like goodbye, but then Eren’s voice cut you off before you could say anything.

“Hey,” he said, “it was really nice to see you.”

You couldn’t really believe the situation you were in. You had thought for sure that you would never see Eren again after he moved, yet here he was, standing outside of your house.

“Yeah, you too,” you said, and watched as the wind moved loose pieces of Eren’s hair around his face.

He smiled at you one last time before turning to walk down the pathway leading from your house to the sidewalk.

Before he got too far, he turned around and yelled, “Lock your window from now on!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

“I will!” you yelled back and waved at him.

Eren waved too, and then you watched him walk down the street for a few moments before going back inside your house.

After shutting your front dooor as quietly as you could, you walked back up to your room and took a deep breath. What were you supposed to do now?

You couldn’t get Eren out of your mind, still in disbelief that he had just been in your room. You had way too much energy to get back into bed. You looked around at the clothes on your floor and decided that it would be the perfect time to organize your things.

There was a sweater by your door with the name of your college on it. You picked it up and pulled it over your head before getting started.

Little did you know that in a few weeks, your life was going to become more intertwined with Eren’s than you could have ever imagined.

Read part 2 here

[house-of-cakes]

Jamais Vu 

Masterlist || Series Masterlist 

Prev || Next

Chapter 17:  Gimme! Gimme! Gimme

Jungkook x Reader: enemy to lovers AU

Word count: 2164

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of slight bullying

Premise: “There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger… Nothing is ever familiar” – Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

AKA Jungkook goes in search of the girl who got him expelled.

I feel so bad posting late that I wrote a bonus chapter 😅 the extra chapter will be out this weekend.

If you would like to give feedback or be tagged in this story please send me an ask/message 😊

Tagged list: @inspinkyring @betysotelo18 @kardia-apo-marmelada @casspirit0705 @preciouschimine @therealsugababe  @lucedelsole97 @deolly @lexy9716  @thesweetest-peas @sannsia​

Bright flashing lights…catchy retro theme songs…the loud cheers of victory from teenage boys and girls defeating their opponents – these were the ingredients that made up Y/N’s favourite place in the world. While Namjoon found comfort on the stage, she felt most at home under the glowing neon lights of Reload.

A few years ago, Y/N had found the arcade a by chance after she had “run away” from home. She had just had an argument with her mother about her appearance and after countless moments of nagging and insults she had finally snapped and left home without permission…it was her first act of rebellion.  

Y/N’s mother was fixated on looks and how a “lady” should behave and present themselves. She always claimed that Y/N she be focusing on her physical imagine instead of having her face hidden behind a computer screen. It killed her mother that her youngest child spent all of her free time working in a place she deemed to be so juvenile. Y/N knew this for a fact and if she was being honest it only added to the appeal of working there. The job didn’t pay much nonetheless she loved it just as much as she did the Magic Shop.

A young boy runs through the arcade and finds Y/N sat on top of an air hockey table (a privilege that only she was allowed). Her attention is focused on her phone, trying to keep tabs on her best friends who are working a job without her. It was not very often that she could not attend an appointment however her elderly boss had caught a cold and there was no one else to cover the busy Friday night shift.

“Noona.” The soft whimper of the young boy catches her attention. “What’s wrong, buddy?” She jumps off the table and kneels so that she is eye level with the child “A-an older-r b-boy…” his words are choppy as his small body shakes with sobs “Stole my game.” “That wasn’t very nice of him. Can you point him out so Noona can have a chat with him.” The little boy continues to whimper but with some comforting words of reassurance and 5 free game tokens, she is able to convince him to point in the direction of the most popular first-person shooter game towards the back of the arcade.

“Thank buddy, that was very brave of you. I promise you in 10 minutes the game will be free for you to play.” She wipes the last of his tears and ruffles his hair for good measure “Come find me soon, ok?” The boy sniffling boy nods as Y/N quickly makes her way to the other side of the room.

At the game Y/N stands off to the side of the machine and pauses to analyse the teenage boy and his skill. The teen would get easily flustered each time a surge of villains would rush after his character and he would frequently let out a string of cuss words whenever he missed his mark, he was an amateur and it showed.

Suddenly his life bar at the top right of he screen started flashing, indicating that his game would soon end if he was not careful with his energy. This must have been enough motivation for him to focus better because his kill streak went from 3 to 9 in almost an instance.  A wicked plan formed in Y/N’s head as she he went in for the last shot of the level.

“Hey!” she called out to him causing him to flinch and miss his target. This caused a fatal error as the enemy on screen took the opportunity to shoot his character right in the face. The teen let out a sound of frustration as the screen read ‘Game Over’ in giant letters and request more tokens to continue. Y/N waited for him to insert the coins before making her presence known in front of him.

“You stupid bitch! You made me lose my game.” He grumbled and lift his gun to continue playing. Y/N reached over to the power point behind the game and switched it off.

“Get the fuck out of my arcade.” She spat and point towards the exit “Reload has a strict no bullying policy so don’t think for a second you’re getting a refund on those tokens.” The teen didn’t bother arguing, he has realised his mistake when he figured out who she was and walked away looking rather embarrassed he had been called out in front of everyone on a busy Friday night. He was sure his class mates would all be talking about it come Monday morning.

The screen of the machine flickered back to life as Y/N switched the power back on, she waited to make sure that the unexpected reboot did not affect the game. The download bar reached the end of the bar and loaded the high score screen. She read over the listed and frowned when she got to a name that had been annoying her lately – Nochu.

This Nochu person had climb two positions high on the leader board since the last time she had checked this game and the achievement displeased her. That name was popping up on the leader boards of many games recently and while she did not feel her abilities were being threatened, she was annoyed that she could not put a face to this person.

Hours later back at the Kim residence, the two cousins enjoy the cooling weather on their porch as Jin attempts to tune his guitar by ear.

“The Basement wasn’t closed tonight.” Jungkook states when he scrolls through his Instagram feed and comes across a new post by the club “I never said it was.” Jin pays no attention to his cousin, instead he fiddles with the knobs at the head of guitar and plucks at a string once he believes he’s tightened the key enough. The sound rings out and the pitch is too high. “So why did we go to Reload instead?” Jin repeats the process with the chord again, the pitch is closer to where its supposed to be however the sound is still off. “None of the guys had a battle or a performance tonight.” He explained as he plucked at the string again and again, trying to pin point why it sounded wrong “And Y/N had to work, so we decided to hang with her instead.” “So we went for Y/N?” Jungkook tone was accusatory “No one forced you to tag along.” Jin fired back, he had stopped trying to tune the guitar to face him “She’s always supports the guys at the Basement, sometimes we repay the favour by making an appearance there to help drum up business.” Jungkook scoffed “You told me Reload was popular because she attracts people with her skills…if that’s the case why would she need you guys?” “She doesn’t need us at all.” Jin moved his guitar from his lap and lent it against his seat. He was frustrated with it and this conversation was adding to the stress.  “That’s the thing about having a good relationship with people…you do things to support them, even when they don’t ask.” “Oh yeah? If she’s so good why is she only ranked second on all the high scores.” Jin rolled his eyes at his cousin, he was being petty again and completely missed the point he was trying to make. “Mr S.K?” Jungkook nodded in confirmation.

Jungkook was becoming a regular at Reload and it was evident to him that Mr S.K was clearly the real champion of the joint. The guy had dominated every game of the arcade by holding highest score and while Y/N’s name always sat below his, her score was always miles away from meeting his. To Jungkook this was clearly another instance of Y/N receiving praise and adoration where it was not merited… it was Mr S.K who deserved to celebrated and yet it was Y/N who stole his popularity. If he had to come up with an explanation as to how this occurred, he would bet all his money it was because Y/N was considered to be “beautiful”.

“Mr S.K has held the top for as long as anyone can remember. There’s no mystery to who he is…He’s obviously the owner of the arcade.”  Jin windshield wiper boomed out and filled the stillness of the night as his cousin’s face fell. 

Jungkook pondered on the last few weeks, there was so much background information he didn’t know and for some reason his brain chose to fill in the gaps by somehow hating on Y/N.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car blaring loud music as it sped up and down the street.

“What the fuck is going?!” Jungkook exclaimed as he stood from his seat and made his way to the top of the porch stairs to get a better look at car. “Ah my Angel is home!” Jin jumped up and went to stand next to Jungkook. “Does she always carry on like this? She drives like a dipshit.” “Nah, that’s not even her driving. You see a while back she got caught at the illegal races, her parents made her sell her car as punishment... She must have gotten into a fight with her mother, this is how she always gets back her.”  

The car finally stopped doing laps down the street and pulled up into Y/N’s drive away. The pair watched as Y/N jumped out of the passenger side of the car and wave to the driver as they pulled away from the house. She was still unaware that she was being watched by them

“Hey Brat!” Jin called out, capturing her attention “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not take rides from strangers?”

Jungkook’s breathe hitched at the thought of Y/N allowing herself to be in a car with a stranger, especially someone who drove like a lunatic. He didn’t catch a glimpse of the driver but surely, she wasn’t reckless enough to put herself in such a dangerous situation…was she?

“She did, that’s what make’s it all the better.” Y/N bantered on smugly, Jungkook couldn’t figure out if she was joking or not. “Well it’s past your bed time young lady, you march right on inside and get right to bed.”  Y/N let out a sound of fake indignation and clutch her hand to her check overdramatically. “To think I raced all the way here with a surprise and this is how you treat me? You really are such a punk!” “A surprise?!” Jin’s eyebrows shot up in excitement, the façade dropped immediately. Everyone knew she gave the best surprises. “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” he demanded and waved her over to them. Y/N laughed at his eagerness and rummaged through her bag as she closed the distance between them.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it.” She purposely handed him a grey game cartridge face down so there was some kind of element of surprise to the gift. His eyes widen comically when he turned it over and read the title of the game. “Y/N…is this…??” For the first time in Jungkook’s life he had seen his loud mouth cousin speechless. “Yah! Don’t make a big deal of it.” She tried to brush it off “Consider it an extremely late birthday gift.” “Not a big deal? This is the original Super Mario Bros 3! I played this game every day as a kid then this idiot blew it up somehow.” He nodded his head in Jungkook’s direction who rolled his eyes in response.

The incident happened years ago and he still hadn’t heard the end of it, he pretended like it didn’t bother him but deep down he felt so bad for accidentally destroying something his cousin held so dear to him.

“I’ve been trying to find it ever since! This must have cost you a fortune.” “Like I said…it’s no big deal. I was cleaning out storage at work and found it packed away, we never got round to fixing game console for it so the boss-man was nice enough to let me have it.”

That was a bold-faced lie.

Y/N had known about the sentimental significance this game had to Jin and went in search for it many months before his birthday. She only managed to get the game after she traded a set of mint condition baseball cards, she had acquired as collateral when a client fell through their end of a deal.

“Y/NIEEE this is why you’re my angel! Thank you so much.” He pulled her towards him and wrapped her up in a big bear hug. Jungkook felt out of place as he watched Y/N shriek and attempt to struggle out of his grip as he showered her with love…he could help but feel jealous of the fact that she could fix a mistake that he had made so long ago.

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 50

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

Living in an apartment so full of various enchantments that you couldn't move without bumping into one certainly had its perks, but your favourite was the space enhancement that made sure the apartment could actually fit everything you wanted it to.

In their original state, both floors of the apartment weren't small on their own, but as your moving in progressed, you quickly realized that the amount of both your and Loki's belongings overran the space you'd been given. 

The solution was pretty standard and required bending only a few minor laws of physics and logic.

Whoever dared venture into your apartment now would get quite the surprise in the form of rooms that felt a little too big for the kind of space indicated by the building's construction, and doors leading to places that absolutely shouldn't be able to fit so close together and yet stubbornly did. But however much you loved the whole apartment in general, you couldn't deny that your absolute favourite part of it was the giant monstrosity of a bathtub that Loki was absolutely uncompromising about.

Laying in it now, you couldn't blame him.

The passage of time was forgotten as the two of you soaked in the scented water, kept warm for what felt like hours, and might've actually been that long. If it was up to you, you would've stayed there forever and enjoyed Loki's firm, warm body, the pleasantly dimmed lights and the few bottles of whatever Loki had hidden for special occasions.

Well, the bottles weren't there originally, but as your clean up progressed and both of you started to feel like something other than a walking biological disaster, a need for celebration rose. You weren't sure how the things progressed from the first bottle to the small pile of them on the floor by the bathtub, but you found yourself straddling Loki's lap, completely drunk and unable to move despite one of your legs going completely numb.

"Remind me to never drink with you again," you mumbled into Loki's neck. 

"I did."

"Then be more convincing…"

With your cheek plastered to him, you felt rather than heard Loki's chuckle. The rumble did unruly things to the contents of your stomach.

"I'm gonna puke."

"Please save the last of my dignity and at least aim away from me." Despite Loki's words, he didn't move a bit and if you didn't know him any better, you'd guess he was feeling similar sensations. 

With his head leaning on the tub's edge and his eyes closed, Loki was indeed fighting against the world spinning around him. The warm embrace of your body pressed into his and the water scented with jasmine were his only anchors in the chaotic mess his head tried to sort out. Truth be told, he had forgotten the full potential of the Asgardian alcohol, and especially the type he had stored for a perfect occasion. It was like a blow to all his senses, and as much as it was fun, Loki was starting to worry about his ability to ever walk out of that bathtub again. He certainly wouldn't attempt such an insanity now, with you weighing him down, so comfortably settled on his lap that you felt like an integral part of him. 

Loki tried, and failed, to convince himself it wasn't an excuse, and a pathetic one too.

"Do you think we're gonna get in trouble?" You asked, as if you knew you were on his mind.

"As petty as Odin is, I don't think he's going to execute us for stealing some alcohol…"

"I meant the stuff Thor was talking about. We kinda messed up the Moon, didn’t we?"

Loki hummed in a way that was definitely not an answer. One of his hands roamed over your exposed back, enjoying the soft curve and warm skin. The other stirred the water, making the soap bubble again and the temperature stay unchanged. Loki had to concentrate more than usual, which was partly because of the amount of alcohol consumed, and partly because his mind was slowly drifting away on soft tendrils of sleep.

"No one knows you there, and I wore my brother's face," Loki finally murmured, leaning his head back. "It'll be fine."

It, unfortunately, didn't know about those predictions, which was why It was interrupted by a certain boy's voice.

"Hey guys, are you okay?" Peter asked from the other side of the door, having let himself into the apartment. Again.

Loki groaned, even as he could feel your smile pressed to his chest. 

"We're fine," he said, louder than necessary. He winced as the sound seemed to erode his skull. 

"What about Barbara, though?" Peter was insistent. "She's scratching at the window from the outside… and I think she wants those pickles from the table?"

"You locked her outside?" You hissed, trying to look at Loki's completely innocent face, but the sudden movement only resulted in the world tilting to the side dangerously fast.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I love that bird dearly." Louder, he said to the boy, "She's only allowed to eat them outside!"

"Okay!" The answer was quick and cheerful and mercifully moving away as the boy grabbed the open jar and went outside.

Loki took a deep breath. The blessed silence once again enveloped the apartment. Through the cloud pressing on his hazy thoughts, Loki considered locking the apartment altogether. 

Another chilled bottle appeared in his hand, delightfully full and heavy. As much as he had tried to get drunk on Earth's alcohol, only the Asgardian kind seemed to do the job.

The drink burned his throat in precisely the manner he needed. It'd been so long since the two of you had a moment to yourself and could just relax without worrying about a thousand responsibilities. On most days, Loki enjoyed the kind of life he had somehow managed to secure himself. If he decided to be honest, Loki was still rather uncertain how it had happened. 

The long, curvy, and annoyingly labyrinthine road that started on the day the Avengers had decided to put him under your wing somehow ended up leading him to where he was now. Not literally, of course - as much as he loved the grand bathtub he had insisted on, Loki had in mind something grander spiritually. A place of comfort, but without the boundaries of a physical space bound to certain conditions and limitations. 

A home, but only if it could be a person. 

Loki supposed it could. Even as he drank again from the bottle, mudding his thoughts further, the philosophical conclusions he came to still felt right. 

Revelations such as these were worthy of sharing, lest they might be forever lost in one's memory. Loki wanted to share the wisdom granted to him by the unholy amount of Asgardian cider, but he had found you plastered to his chest, asleep. And drooling. 

Loki made sure the water didn't run cold as he too decided to join you in the dreams' escape. The quiet popping of the soap bubbles and the lavender scent hanging in the air lulled him quickly into a state of complete and utter comfort… 

"Brother, where are you hiding? 

…from which a rather brutish, and definitely unwelcome voice dragged him away. 

Loki started. The contents of a forgotten bottle escaped into the water. 

As the heavy steps sounded outside of the bathroom, it was clear the apartment was being searched through again. 

You swore. Loki agreed. 

"I'm going to," he hiccuped, "change him into a frog." 

"Barbara would devour him whole."

"Let them fight. He always prided himself to be a warrior."

Fortunately for Thor, even though he was not aware of the small mercy of the universe, Loki found himself too drunk to act on his words, despite his best attempts at conjuring the transformative spell.

But when his brother's thudding steps neared the bathroom again, with clear intent of dragging Loki out in whatever state he was, Loki was forced to make a very dire decision very quickly, or lest his quiet evening suffer a bitter end.

So Loki did what he had always done best, and spiced the world up with a tiny little trick.

You heard Thor approach the door, but you didn't have it in you to move and at least cover yourself up. The doorknob twisted and you heard it very well through the slight creak it always gave. Then you heard the door open - but it didn't.

Living in an apartment complex had its perks, and being able to hear your neighbors on occasion certainly wasn't one. Still, your gaze turned up when you heard a high-pitched scream and Thor's booming voice coming from the apartment above yours.

"He's going to kill you for that," you said.

"Given the vigor with which he was looking for me, I think he had a hefty list of reasons prepared already."

"That's fair."

As all good things have in common, they always come to a saddening end when you least expect them to. The conclusion that life was utterly unfair in its precipice was a natural one to come up with, even in the state of drunkenness. 

"I think it's time for us to go," Loki sighed.

A groan escaped you when the world tilted to the side. Getting out of the bathtub while completely, embarrassingly drunk was a feat that almost resulted in one broken neck and three broken limbs, but somehow both of you managed to scramble your way out. While you searched for clothes that had an annoying habit of duplicating right in front of your eyes, Thor's roars of fury sounded clear through the many walls separating you. 

You wondered if any of the neighbours would connect their unexpected guest to you.

You gave up on your search for the other sock and decided to only wear one. Trying to put it on was already hard as it was. "If you spelled all the doors in the building to lead astray, how are we getting out?"

"Don't worry," Loki hiccuped. "My brother dearest is too stupid to notice I didn't touch the windows."

You had never loved anything as much as you loved the walls in your apartment, their quiet support helping you get through the endless expanse of the living room. For reasons you elected to ignore, the swaying of the world only increased as you progressed, bumping into every single piece of furniture some idiot (most likely you the day before) had decided to put there.

"I don't think this is a good idea," you slurred when Loki opened the window, pickleless, owlless and impossibly high.

"Your intuition, my love, is right as always."

Loki managed to put his leg over the windowsill on the second try, which he deemed a great success. He also managed to get down on the other side with no life-threatening injuries, which was just as surprising.

His pride was short-lived when you tumbled down, knocking him off feet.

The few half-melted snowmen seemed to have a good laugh. The little garden was still winter-bare, and no grass cushioned the fall. Barbara, perched on top of Peter's head, hissed with obvious joy. 

The boy blinked. "Are you...sneaking out?" 

"No," Loki grunted in the same moment you said, "Yes."

Barbara ripped another pickle from the boy's hand. Life was short, especially after you died once, and there was only so much time she deemed worth looking at the two of you. She had far more pressing issues, like the impossibly narrow jar into which her head just wouldn't fit, and so left her reliant on the boy's nimble (and tasty) fingers.

"...are you sure?" The boy watched the two drunkards scramble to stand up. 

"We're just out for a walk."

"A long one."

Glass broke upstairs, followed by raised voices and what was undeniably a string of curses.

Loki looked at you. You looked at Loki. Another Loki looked at you. Unable to choose which to make eye contact with, you squinted and the two Lokis merged together—damn you were never drinking again. There was no way all of you would sneak out in time.

Barbara ripped another pickle to shreds.

"Hey, Peter," you cooed sweetly. "Do you happen to know a quiet little place to lay low for a while, my darling?"

Peter, the darling, did.

*****

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for no chapter last week, my university is going to kill me with that graduation paper I have to work on and reasearch and realize how little do I actually know about the subject I have to get a 70-pages long paper done. Heh.

But don't worry, this story is slowly nearing its end, and even though I have little time to work on new chapters, I'm doing my best and hope you'll enjoy them. Well, my life's pretty busy right now, and it stresses me out, so I'm not sure how regular the updates will be, but I promise, I'm not giving up on this story. I'm so happy about all the support I have received for this story, and grateful for all the comments it got! Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

[timebranded]

Rumor Has It (pt III)

pt I pt II

Lucas felt bad about just leaving the Typhlosion(?) in the Ultra Ball (even if it was just for a few hours). But if she was anything like Flare, she probably needed a few hours to herself to simmer down. 

With that said, Lucas figured it’d be best if he introduced himself as soon as possible. After all, he did catch her pretty suddenly. So, after he got some breakfast for himself and his Pokemon, he went back into the lake with Typhlosion’s PokeBall and a few Poffins in hand. 

Once he situated himself by the lakeside, he braced himself and tossed the Ultra Ball.

Lucas probably didn’t realize it last night because he was in the water for most of that fight, but this Typhlosion was huge! She easily dwarfed Flare in size - heck, she could easily measure up to Steiner (who was much larger than average at nearly ten feet long)! Later he would find out that Typhlosion was only a foot smaller than the aforementioned Scolipede. 

If he made a strangled squeak once he made the connection in his mind, Lucas would never admit to it later.

The second thing he noted was how relaxed Typhlosion seemed to be compared to last night. The difference in temperament was unexpected, and almost unsettling. Maybe it was because it took Flare much longer to mellow out once his temper got the best of him? 

While Lucas couldn’t be sure, he had to admit that he was relieved to see such a content expression on the Typhlosion’s face. So he didn’t have to worry about throwing himself into the water.

“Uh, hey there,” he greeted. Huh...if there was any indication that Typhlosion even acknowledged his existence, it was hard to tell. Still, it was better than having a Flamethrower aimed at his face. “My name’s Lucas. I’m sorry if my friend and I startled you last night. We, uh....weren’t expecting you.”

Typhlosion blinked, the spaced out smile still on her face. Then she slowly reached over to place a paw on Lucas’ head, giving his hair a gentle ruffle.

Lucas jolted at the touch; there was an oddly cold sensation where Typhlosion had patted his head. It was so unexpected; he really only got this sense when Umbra or Aiko would come into contact with him. And they were both ghosts...did that mean she was a ghost-type too?! 

It made sense - the eerie flames and the purple coloring did kind of scream ‘ghost,’ now that he thought about it. But a fire/ghost Typhlosion? 

...

Why did that ring a bell...?

Lucas pushed the thought out of his mind. “Uh. Nice to meet you too. So! Um...I like nicknaming the Pokemon I meet. So...what do you think of the name Homura?”

Lucas caught a Typhlosion!(?)

Homura. Female.  Alpha. Docile natured.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

The male companions and f!sole fake dating for a mission?

this one is sooo cute! i love it. thank you for requesting! i don’t have a specific scenario and i’m in class so for this request, i will keep it general. let’s say they’re crushing on the ss hard. ❤️

-

Danse:

horrible. he’s horrible at this kind of stuff. in fact, he’s probably the one who does this mission the worst out of all the companions. he stumbles over his words, blushes intensely, and loses himself in the process. everytime sole sends him a cute, flirty look to go with the flow of the situation, hes already midway through a heart attack. whenever sole slips her small hand in his own, he becomes dizzy and you could literally feel the steam radiating off of his body. as much as he wanted to help sole complete the mission, his mind wasnt capable of thinking straight and all he could really focus on was the feeling of their hands pressed together. hearing sole call him, ‘love’, ‘boyfriend’, and ‘sweetheart’ only made him more nervous than he already was. how do boyfriends act when stuff like this happens?

danse scolded himself for looking like a fool in front of sole herself and the random bartender that continued to eye him down. despite all his worries and anxiety, he doesn’t really want the sensation of these small moments to end any sooner. the feeling of their hands intertwined and sole sticking close to him only pushed him to protect her more. he didn’t want this to be a one time thing, especially not when this feeling felt so right to him. it was just so new and foreign - it excited him. as they exited the building, he felt the disappointment build up as he felt soles hand retreat from his but fought the urge to grab it back. his eyes never left soles hand as they both walked back to sanctuary, danse still remaining suspiciously quiet with a red face. maybe, just maybe, he’ll confess to sole sooner than later.

Deacon:

he was good at fake dating. well, good at it with someone he didn’t like. this was different. this was someone he actually had feelings for and he nearly hit his own head trying to get up from his bed as des sent deacon and sole to a mission. “you’re kidding, right?” deacon would laugh nervously, hoping it was a joke coming from his boss. she was not kidding, not one bit. here he was, trying to act natural as sole tried to persuade the man to spill some information. once the man questioned their intentions with the place they tried to gain intel on, sole placed a small hand on deacons chest, causing him to grow rigid. oh boy, this was gonna be a long night for him. “oh, we were just looking for a place to reside in. we’re planning to start a family after all, right honey?”

crimson dusted deacons cheeks as he smiled, answering the question innately, “of course. we just want the best for our kids.” sole threw an arm over deacons torso, hugging him tightly as she exchanged words with the man once more. he would shyly snake his arm around her waist as he tried to keep his cool. he hadnt felt any affection like this since barbara, so he definitely wasn’t used to this anymore, but he wasn’t complaining. he’d secretly enjoy the affection shared between the two. once they got the information they needed, they both ditched the town as soon as possible to avoid seeming suspicious. as sole tried to release her hand from deacons, she only felt him grab it a little tighter. “what’s wrong?” she looked up at deacon, who was smirking friskily with a blush on his face. “the mission doesn’t end till we get back to HQ, remember?” she laughed, hitting his arm playfully as she squeezed his hand, “stupid.”

MacCready:

at first, maccready would be completely against the idea of fake dating because of his insane crush on sole, but would see it as an advantage to make the move he never had the guts to initiate. maybe this was his chance to hint at sole that he liked them, through actions of course. he thought it would be easy until sole became all affectionate and touchy with him to seem convincing to the couple they were investigating. the hand holding and small touches were gonna make him faint any minute. “what a pretty man you have there! hard to find someone so good looking these days,” the woman complimented as she eyed maccready in a flirtatious manner. before he could respond or even send his thanks, sole tiptoed and pecked maccreadys cheek, causing him to stumble back in surprise.

it took him a few moments to really get himself level headed over the events that just happened, but would let a small smile spread on his face. he unconsciously brushed his hand over the spot she had kissed and the moment only replayed more and more in his head. he watched as sole said their final goodbyes and dragged him to another side of the room, talking to him about what she had collected. he wasn’t listening. he was only focused on her face and lips and was enticed by her beauty. unknowingly, he placed a hand on soles cheek and bent down to kiss her forehead but immediately withdrew, panicking at his sudden actions. he was stuttering out apologies left and right until he felt soles hand creep into his own, a warm grin forming on her cheeks. all his worries about whether sole felt the same way immediately drifted into oblivion.

Hancock:

he would be the most natural when fake dating, seeing that he is naturally flirtatious and has obviously showed his liking to sole. of course, sole was oblivious to his indications and shrugged it off, knowing that it was part of hancocks personality. so when sole brought up the idea of fake dating for a mission so they could seem less suspicious, he agreed to it before she could say another word. maybe through this way, he can show her that his feelings are 100% genuine and not part of his coquettish nature. during the night, they spoke to some woman at the bar who apparently held essential information that they needed to push out of her. they knew they would probably have to chit chat with the woman for a long while before she really began talking about what they needed. they both decided to relax on the couch opposite of where she sat, wanting to get comfortable for the remaining of the time they were there.

at first, it started off as cute, innocent hand holding and had slowly transitioned to something more as they both got more relaxed with each other. hancock wrapped an arm around soles shoulder, unconsciously playing with strands of her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder. he eventually lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss against her knuckles, sole smiling as a response. with a small giggle, the lady teased, “you must love her very much. it must be very nice to be in love.” hancock only sent her a broad smile, a gratifying tone dancing in his voice. “yes, i do love her very much. always have and always will. i’m sure she knows that too.” sole would laugh and nod her head, a soft red painting her cheeks. after collecting as much intel as they could, hancock lead sole out of the bar, never letting go of soles hand once. sole peeked at him shyly, her voice quiet. “did you mean what you said in the bar? or was that part of the plan?” hancock would hum teasingly in thought, “take a wild guess, sunshine. do you think i meant it?” sole would pout childishly causing hancock to burst into laughter. he walked in front of her, and gently held soles chin as he inched closer. “let me answer that for ya.”

Nick Valentine:

he’d seem almost professional at it, maybe a little awkward here and there but is a gentleman overall. he wouldn’t really mind fake dating for a mission, but wouldn’t think it’s the best way to go through with it. in the end, he’s much better at controlling his feelings for her than the others. nick is much more simple with showing his affection and shows it through small manners. he would place a firm but gentle hand on soles shoulder or would stick out his arm for sole to link her own with. as they went out and about to the designated area with soles arm linked with nicks, they finally found their suspect and tried to seem as friendly and unsuspecting as possible. unfortunately for them, the man seemed to be disgruntled by nick being a synth and often gave him a disgusted side eye as they spoke. they both decided to ignore this and continue on with their shenanigans. the detective enjoyed the unexpected attention he was receiving from sole and smiled at the feeling of her head leaning on his arm. using the same arm she rested on, he caressed her back gently. though they got negative reactions from the man, nick still remained in a contented mood due to soles acts of endearments.

he tried to start up a conversation with the suspect, hoping that he can obtain any information but the man only degraded him. “you’re dating a synth? this piece of trash?” sole could hear the loathing tone of the mans voice, and before nick could even sputter a word out, she stepped in front of him. “excuse me. you better watch how you talk to my boyfriend. he is the sweetest and most caring man i’ve ever met in my lifetime and he is most definitely better than you will ever be,” sole glared harshly before continuing, “if you don’t like it, then feel free to walk out.” she sent him an innocent smile as the man stomped passed the two, fuming at soles comment. “don’t let the door hit you on the way out, sweetheart.” she whirled around to face nick and looked at him straight in the eye, huffing. “the audacity of some people...” he only chuckled and ruffled her hair. nick was pleasantly surprised with how she handled the situation and felt his mechanical heart whir happily as he locked eyes with her. “well aren’t you something, doll? can’t find anyone else like you.” he complimented, “so what’s the plan now since our main man decided to take a hitch?” giggling, she linked arms with nick once more, dragging him with a skip in her step. “i say we keep searching. there must be more than one person in this town that’s connected to him.” nick was just glad to share these small moments with sole.

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

About Time [G.W] - Part 3

pairing: George Weasley x OC

series description: On an unexpected night out, George meets the love of his life. And then suddenly loses her. What lengths will he go to in order to find her?

word count: 2.7k

warnings: slight language

taglist: @p0gues4l @amourtentiaa @305weasley

series masterlist

X

“Ready George?” Fred called. George had been fixing his hair for the last 20 minutes. He wanted to make sure he looked perfect.

“Just a few more minutes!” he called to his brother. Fred popped his head into the bathroom where George was running his fingers through his hair. “Do I look okay?” George asked.

“You look as handsome as always. But perhaps a little over-styled…” George’s hair was gelled into place, an unusual look for him. Fred ruffled his auburn locks, releasing his hair from the hold of the gel. “Much better,” he stated. George looked polished, yet casual with his newly messy hair. He looked good without looking like he was trying too hard. It was perfect.

George thanked his brother and they gathered their things to head to the concert. George had immediately bought them tickets to the Weird Sisters when he saw the poster. Not only was Fred excited for his brother to meet up with his soul mate, but he was happy to have a night out.

“So, do you have a plan for tonight?” Fred asked.

George shrugged and said, “I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ll know what to do once I see her.”

“Do you need a wingman? You know I’m terrific at that,” Fred stated.

“I actually feel perfectly charming tonight. I think I’ll be alright on my own, but I will happily fix you up with whatever friend she’s with.”

“Ah, how kind of you Georgie.” The two reached the crowded club and headed straight to the bar for a drink. George immediately had his radar on, searching for Molly. He wanted to spot her first, and then he would figure out how to talk to her. Being tall was certainly advantageous in this situation, but there were still a lot of people to sift through and it was rather dark.

Fred handed George a brew and they found a spot near the door, keeping an eye on concertgoers still filtering in.

“Remind me what she looks like again?” Fred asked, scanning the crowd.

“She’s small, maybe 5’ 2” or 5’ 3” and she has straight dark brown hair that’s about shoulder length. And she has light eyes and freckles and the most amazing smile. It’s like-“

“I can work with that,” Fred said, cutting him off. George decided to take a lap around the venue to see if he spotted Molly. Fred would stay by the door and watch to see if she walked in.

George took his time walking around, studying anyone that showed even the slightest resemblance. But he knew as soon as he saw her, his heart would skip a beat and that would be the indicator he needed. He circled the place once more but still couldn’t find her. George made his way back towards Fred and noticed he was engaged in conversation with a woman. It should have annoyed him that Fred was distracted, but oddly enough it didn’t. He joined his brother and was briefly introduced to the new dame before they quickly parted ways.

“Sorry mate. I promise she came up to me, I was focused on finding your girl,” Fred said.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re allowed some fun. Besides, I don’t think she’s here yet.” The two of them eventually migrated toward the stage, as the opening act came on. Every so often Fred would nudge George and point to a short brunette, to which George would shake his head. He was starting to get nervous that she wouldn’t come, but he held out hope. After all, she had said she never misses a show. George tried to relax and enjoy the concert. He had plenty of time to find her.

As the opener’s set was coming to a close, George made a trip to the bar for another round of drinks. The bar was essentially empty and he easily placed his order and waited for the bartender to pour a round of fire whiskey. His order finished the bottle, so he had to wait a few moments as the barback went in back to grab a replacement. He leaned on the bar to wait and suddenly there was someone next to him.

“Can I get two fire whiskeys please?” the voice said. George froze, recognizing the sweet American accent.

“It’ll be just a moment. We’re waiting on a new bottle,” said the barkeep.

“I suppose I should apologize for that,” George said, turning to her. She looked up at him and he was immediately struck by her piercing green eyes. George smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Finishing all the fire whiskey and making me wait for a drink. How dare you,” she joked.

“I know. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out yet.”

“Oh I can make that happen, do you want me to get the bouncer?” she said sarcastically.

“Careful love. If you do that, I won’t be able to pay for your drinks.”

“I am perfectly capable of buying my drinks,” she said.

“I know you are, but I want to buy your drinks. It’s the least I can do.”

“The least you can do?”

“I believe I owe you for a night of wonderful conversation in complete darkness.”

George smiled at her and something in her expression changed slightly, like she was putting everything together.

“Oh shit,” she said, looking him up and down, “George Weasley. You really need to have your storefront redone. It doesn’t do you justice.”

“Oh, that’s Fred out front. If it were me he’d be much more handsome.”

She laughed, “How’d you know it was me?”

“Not many people in London with an American accent.”

“Ah of course. That is my giveaway.”

The bartender placed four glasses in front of them and George quickly paid before Molly could protest.

“Are you here with Angelina?” she nodded and he added, “Fred and I are standing right over there if you’d like to join us. I will make sure that Fred is on his best behavior.”

“What about you? Are you going to be on your best behavior?”

“I can’t make any promises,” he smirked. She smiled and said, “I’ll grab her and we’ll come right over.”

George returned to Fred as the crowd started to migrate toward the bar for a refill before the Weird Sisters came on.

“I found her,” George said with a stupid grin on his face.

“I never doubted you for a second.”

“And she’s coming over here. With Angelina. So please don’t ruin this for me.”

“I will be the perfect gentleman,” he said.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” George replied.

Fred shrugged as Molly and Angelina joined them.

“Well, well, well…if it isn’t Fred Weasley,” Angelina said.

“Ang! Darling, how are you?” He said, kissing both her cheeks. She rolled her eyes but smiled. Molly fell into place next to George and said, “Is he always like this?”

“More or less.”

“Then they should get along great,” she joked.

“I have to say Molly, I am a little offended that you haven’t come into the shop yet. You claim to be a troublemaker.”

“Oh I am. I just don’t need cheap tricks to play pranks.”

George dramatically put his hand over his heart, “Ouch.”

“Are you that fragile? I have so much more to dish out.”

“I can take it, as long as you can take it back.”

“Do your worst,” she said.

“I didn’t want to have to bring up Kenmare this early, but if you insist.”

She shook her head and smiled, “Damn, hit me where it hurts the most.”

“How about we call a temporary truce. You don’t insult me, I don’t insult you, and we enjoy the concert.”

“Okay, but just until the concert ends,” she held out her hand and George shook it.

The lights went down and the crowd started cheering as the band came out on stage. Molly cheered and a huge smile spread across her face as the music started. George shifted his attention between the band and Molly, as she mouthed every word and moved to the music. Fred and Angelina took turns bringing them drinks and George realized he was feeling a little more than tipsy. And by the looks of it, so was Molly.

Towards the end of the set, Molly turned toward him and grabbed his hand, saying “This is one of my favorites!” She then pulled him forward and started dancing with him. It started out innocent enough, with the two of them facing each other and moving to the music. And then Molly took George’s hand and turned around so that she was dancing in front of him, her body pressed ever so slightly against his. The height difference between them was almost comical, with him at 6’3” and her barely at 5’3”.

The song came to an end and the mood shifted as the Weird Sisters played one of their few slower songs. Molly took George’s other hand and lightly wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She leaned her head back into his chest as they swayed to the music, watching the band the whole time. George was trying to suppress the butterflies that were currently in his stomach and simply enjoy the moment. Soon the music ended and it appeared the concert was over. Molly turned around and gave George a small smile. She motioned with her fingers for him to come closer and he bent down. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and George took her hand and squeezed it as they separated.

People started filtering out now as the lights came back on. Molly and George were still holding hands as they followed Fred and Angelina, who were bantering back and forth, and George sighed in relief when they felt the cool spring air hit them. The four of them walked about a block and stopped, determining their next move. Molly and Angelina were talking to each other when Fred said, “Would either of you care for a pint at the Leaky Cauldron?”

Angelina looked toward Molly for an answer and she replied, “I wish we could, but we should get back. Rain check?”

“Sure,” George said. The four of them stood there awkwardly for a moment when Fred broke the silence.

“Well my lady, it has been a pleasure,” Fred said, kissing Angelina’s hand. She rolled her eyes and Fred gently pulled her away from George and Molly. George heard her say, “What are you doing?” and Fred replied, “Shhh…I’m giving them some privacy.”

“That was subtle,” Molly commented.

“For what it’s worth, I had a great time tonight,” George said.

“Me too,” she nodded.

“Listen Molly, would you like to go out sometime?”

“Oh, so now that you know what I look like, you’re suddenly interested?” she challenged.

“Ah that’s actually not it at all,” she waited for further explanation. “I was interested that night in the dark. And I tried to tell you before we walked out, but you stopped me.”

“You certainly didn’t seem interested.”

George sighed, “I know. I’m still trying to figure out what happened to me that night. I was nervous and I froze up.”

“You don’t strike me as the nervous type.”

“I’m usually not, but you were perfect and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and screw it up.”

She ran her fingers through her hair and said, “Shit George, I really wish you would’ve told me that when we first met.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because I liked you, but now I’m sort of seeing someone.”

“Oh,” he said, disappointed.

“It’s new, but it’s been going well.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“It was at a Prophet party a few weeks ago. I met him towards the end of the night and we went out for a drink afterwards.”

George looked down at his feet and nodded, “Sure, got it. I…uh…I hope it goes well.”

“I’m sorry George,” she said sincerely.

“It’s fine, really. I hope you had fun tonight,” he said, making his way back toward Fred. Molly stood there and watched him tread back to Fred, with a look of uncertainty on her face. Angelina rushed back towards her and the two took off.

“How’d it go?” Fred asked.

George just shook his head, “She has a boyfriend.”

“You’re joking,” Fred said. George shook his head again, “Well she certainly wasn’t acting like she had a boyfriend in there.”

“I should’ve told her that first night. Things would’ve been completely different.”

Fred consoled him as they apparated back to the apartment. George sat down at the table and Fred immediately opened two butterbeers for them.

“I never thought I could go from feeling so happy to so sad in such a short period of time.”

“Alright mate, before you get carried away in the dramatics, let’s go through the facts. Molly likes you. As evidenced in the way she was acting around you tonight.”

“Maybe she’s just flirty. And we had been drinking a lot.”

“I don’t buy that. The way Molly was looking at you, she wasn’t just flirting. And she told you to your face that she likes you.”

“No, she said she liked me. As in past tense.”

“Don’t get hung up on that. The way I saw it, she was more than interested in you tonight.”

“What does it matter,” George stated, taking another sip of his drink.

“Stay with me here. We know that she started dating someone only a few weeks ago. It’s a new relationship. Things could happen.”

“Sure, but I don’t know that I have the patience to wait for something to happen.”

“Have you thought about just trying to be friends with her for now?”

“The last thing I want to do is put myself in the friend zone. I don’t want to see her with someone else who makes her happy.”

“Fair enough,” Fred said as he took a big sip from his drink. Seeing George hurting was killing him, and he knew he had to take action to help him. “Did she tell you how she met this boyfriend?”

“Yeah, she said they met at a Prophet event a few weeks ago,” George replied.

Fred got up and started sifting through the pile of mail sitting on the table. “Could it be this Daily Prophet Fundraiser we were invited to about two weeks ago?” Fred asked with a grimace, holding up an invitation they had received.

“Fuck, Fred,” George said, putting his head in his hands. Fred always went through the mail, and truthfully he didn’t think anything of this invitation. The Prophet was always inviting them to events since they often took out advertisements in the paper. Fred hadn’t put two and two together. He recalled George saying Molly worked for the Daily Prophet but they never attended the events they were invited to it. Out of habit he pushed the invitation aside.

“I’m sorry, I never even thought about it.”

He sighed, “I know, I know. It’s not your fault.”

“But we can fix this,” Fred said, a smile spreading over his face.

“We can?” George asked.

“We can. With the time turner.”

“Fred…” George said, concerned.

“Don’t argue with me. We can totally do this. You know she likes you. We just have to find her before this other guy does.” George was considering the offer when Fred added, “Do you really think she’s the one?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need to do this. Or else it might never happen for you two.”

“I want to, more than anything, but it’s risky Fred.”

“I know it’s risky, and this decision is up to you. But just know I will be there with you if you want to go.”

George was weighing the pros and cons in his head. He knew messing with time could be dangerous, but this might be a once in a lifetime opportunity. He chugged the rest of his butterbeer and said, “Let’s do it.” Fred finished his butterbeer with a smile and the two planned out how exactly this would go down.

[pink-flame]

Not Working - For Lilly 💜

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLY!

For @chickwiththepurpleguitar

So, this is set in the world of WFW about a year after Julie left but it's not canon (yes I have my own canon 😂) within the WFW universe. In the world of my actual fic Luke and Bobby are just chaotic best friends/brothers who show their platonic love through fighting constantly. However, Lilly wanted Bobby pining after Luke in this universe and I love her so I have created this un-official splinter universe for her hc to live in. It does incorporate some of my actual ideas for the end of Sunset Curve in that original timeline though, just minus the pining. 😂 I hope you like it, my friend! 🥰(Also, I only went 100 words over our agreed upon word limit. Aren't you proud???)

It wasn’t working.

That was Bobby’s main thought as they packed up all their gear at the end of one of the final shows of their first tour. It was at least 2am, possibly later and they were all dragging as they forced their bodies through the second nature routine of getting everything safely into Beatrice. They had been all up and down the West Coast for the past few months, playing to decent sized crowds and getting a good response. The problem was this tour was supposed to be the thing that pushed them to the next level of success and that...that clearly wasn’t working.

Radio stations were completely uninterested in booking them to promote their performances.

Multiple venues had pulled out of hosting them at the last minute despite tickets already being sold, leaving them scrambling to find alternatives or canceling stops outright.

Even the company that printed their cheap t-shirts had politely declined their request to re-up their order.

It was like Sunset Curve had gone from being a band on the verge to a band on the verge of being unable to book a gig. None of this was that surprising given the fact that they had gone against Dec from Red Rose Records, an executive famous for holding grudges and exerting every bit of his influence to make things difficult for his targets. Part of Bobby had wanted to believe that Queenie would be able to intervene on their behalf, that she would finally stand up to her dad and find a way to make things easier for all of them. Part of him had wanted to believe she still cared enough about him to try.

Maybe she had and maybe she hadn’t and at the end of the day he couldn’t blame her either way. It had been a terrible situation all around...Luke’s attitude and Queenie’s dad insisting on that unfair contract and Bobby himself being completely incapable of putting everything out in the open when he was so scared of losing either Queenie or Luke. And that was to say nothing of Julie...all the absolute insanity that had been going on with Julie even though none of them knew it. It was because of her that he knew things could have gone much worse, could have ended with his friends dead and him as a hollow rockstar who betrayed the people he loved the most.

So even though he had loved Queenie (was probably still in love with her) and things with the band were quickly going downhill, he couldn’t bring himself to be entirely as depressed about those facts as he would have expected. He had his friends, they had each other, and they still had music. That wasn’t something anyone could take from them. It wasn’t perfect but it was enough. For him it was enough.

But he was also a realist and the reality was that things with the band weren’t working.

By the time they made it back to the questionable motel where they were staying for the night they were all dragging even more. Alex and Reggie disappeared into one of the rooms right away, barely pausing to wave goodnight to Bobby and Luke before they were shutting the door in their faces and presumably collapsing directly into bed. At the start of the tour they had all four shared a room in an effort to make their almost nonexistent tour budget stretch a little further but Alex had promptly declared Luke’s talking (and sometimes singing) in his sleep to be a crime against humanity and that to avoid him ending up with a murder charge they were going to need seperate rooms. Reggie had immediately started listing off various games he and Bobby could play to decide who got stuck sharing with Luke but Bobby had shut them all up by volunteering. That had earned him an odd look from Alex but Luke had clapped him on the back and made a speech about how it was nice to have someone on his side and the warm feeling that bloomed in Bobby’s chest was enough to help him forget opening his mouth meant he wouldn’t be sleeping much for the rest of the tour.

If he was being honest though he hadn’t exactly slept well for the better part of 2 years now. Even before Julie had arrived and all the madness that followed, Bobby had spent most nights laying awake for hours unable to fully ignore the fact that Luke was out in Wonderland curled up uncomfortably on that damn couch he still hadn’t figured out folded out. Bobby had spent a lot of time thinking about that and why exactly he could neither bring himself to go out and unfold the dumb bed himself and make sure Luke was ok or just fall asleep and ignore his friend’s relative comfort. So instead he had drifted off most nights tossing and turning, worrying about the boy who was so close and yet a world away.

So it really wasn’t that big of an adjustment for Bobby to be lying awake in various seedy motel rooms, trying no to think about how thoroughly the sheets had been cleaned and listening for the even breaths that would indicate his friend was getting some rest. He was often awakened again before long when Luke started talking in his sleep, snippets of nonsense bleeding into half-finished song lyrics fading into Julie’s name.

Bobby pretended to be asleep. He pretended not to hear.

He was a coward in some ways, always had been.

He didn’t have Alex’s wise advice or Reggie’s unexpected insights or Luke’s inspiring speeches. He didn’t have Queenie’s blunt truth telling. He didn’t even have Julie’s ability to make everything better simply by making sure you knew she was with you.

He just had good intentions and a tendency to avoid his problems, a useless combination.

But even he couldn’t ignore the way on this particular night Luke’s breathing never did even out. Instead, after barely twenty minutes of both of them lying still in their uncomfortable beds, Bobby listened as Luke slipped out of bed, pulled on his sneakers and slipped outside. He instantly sat up in the darkness and debated his next move. The typical Bobby move would be to lay back down and pretend he hadn’t noticed. That’s probably what Luke expected him to do. It might have even been what he wanted Bobby to do.

But Bobby was so sick of turning away and pretending he didn’t see what was happening around him. Pretending he didn’t see the blow up between Queenie and Luke coming, pretending he didn’t see that Julie was hiding something, pretending the writing wasn’t on the wall when it came to the future of Sunset Curve. Pretending he didn’t see how Luke still missed Julie like a phantom limb, an empty space that nonetheless managed to be an aching wound. Pretending Queenie didn’t represent the same to him. Pretending that despite the fact that he had loved Queenie (probably still did) he also thought...maybe...the other ache he felt came from loving something else...someone else...so much closer yet just as out of reach.

That wasn’t something he could ever say out loud. It just wasn’t. He was a realist and the reality was that Luke had loved Julie, still did and always would in a way that Bobby couldn’t fully understand even though he had witnessed it up close. He was never going to be the brave one, the one who told the truth just for the sake of doing it, just for an impossible chance.

So he couldn’t say out loud his inconvenient truth that maybe he had fallen in love with his best friend, just a little bit. He couldn’t.

But he could force his sock clad feet down onto the disgusting motel carpet. He could put his shoes on and slip outside and make sure his best friend was ok.

He could do that.

So he did.

At first as he blinked into the semi-darkness of the parking lot, a few flickering bulbs the only available source of light, he didn’t spot Luke at all. He felt a brief sense of rising panic flicker through him until the sound of shifting metal had his eyes darting over to the spot where Beatrice was parked. He squinted and could just make out Luke’s silhouette, hauling himself up onto the roof of Bobby’s van.

Bobby’s concern quickly melted into annoyance as he stomped over, coming to a stop next to his van and hissing up at the boy on top.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” Bobby demanded. “You’re going to put so many dents in the roof!”

Luke just scoffed, leaning over to peer down at Bobby with an annoyingly not at all repentant smile.

“Come on, Bobby,” He fired back. “Beatrice is 90% dents at this point. It’s part of her charm.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re up there,” Bobby grumbled.

Some of the cockiness drained out of Luke’s voice when he spoke again.

“Couldn’t sleep. Sometimes...sometimes looking at the stars helps.”

Bobby didn’t have to ask what exactly looking at the stars helped. He knew. And it wasn’t falling asleep.

It was missing Julie.

So Bobby didn’t fire back any of the relevant and bitingly hilarious retorts on the tip of his tongue. He simply sighed deeply before gripping the hood and hauling himself up to join his friend. If Luke was surprised by his decision he didn’t say anything, only reached his hand down to help pull Bobby up the rest of the way until they were both settled on the roof. Luke laid back and rested one of his arms behind his head as a pillow and Bobby mirrored him on the other side, their shoulders just brushing.

He had to admit, the view of the sky was a lot better than it had any right to be given where they were. Apparently they were just far enough outside of the city that the stars had a chance against the glow of civilization. The tiny pinpricks of light stretched out as far as he could see, their patterns and forms probably lost on Luke but he doubted his friend had come up here for a lesson on constellations and myths so Bobby kept his mouth shut.

Or at least he did for about 30 seconds before he glanced over at Luke and immediately regretted that decision. It was too hard to ignore all of the things he had been working so hard lately to ignore when they were this close.

He cleared his throat and brought his focus back to the reason he had followed Luke out in the first place.

“Any better?” He asked simply, rolling his head back to its original position so he could stare at the much safer vision of the stars again.

Bobby felt Luke shrug, his shoulder jostling against Bobby’s briefly.

“A little,” He said, sucking in a deep breath and then releasing it. “I just figure these are probably the same stars Julie’s looking at, you know?”

“Except for the ones obscured by 25 years of additional light pollution,” Bobby agreed.

“Wow, thanks, buddy,” Luke said dejectedly.

Bobby sighed and tried again.

“You know none of the stars we’re seeing are actually as they appear now, right? They’re so far away that even though that light is traveling to us extremely quickly it can still take years to get here.”

“I didn’t come up here for Bobby’s science time,” Luke mumbled.

“I’m saying that looking at the stars is like looking into the past,” Bobby insisted. “Julie’s probably not only looking up at the same stars, some of the one’s she’s seeing are how they appeared right here, right now. Isn’t that kind of cool?”

There was a brief pause giving Bobby just enough time to wonder if he had blown it again before Luke answered.

“Yeah,” Luke grumbled begrudgingly. “That is cool.”

Bobby couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction at that. Science could be comforting at times even if literature was his first love. The point was it had worked and he and Luke were back on solid ground again, or at least back on the creaking and protesting roof of his poor van.

“Have you heard from Queenie?” Luke asked, startling Bobby from his thoughts.

Bobby stiffened and shook his head before realizing it was too dark for Luke to see that gesture.

“Nah,” He answered, keeping his voice forcibly casual.

“Sorry,” Luke said simply.

“I’m sorry it’s still so hard,” Bobby returned. “Without Julie.”

“It’s fine,” Luke replied quickly. “Well, not fine, it’s hard everyday. You know that, but...I’m ok. I really am. You don’t have to worry.”

“But I obviously do,” Bobby snapped before realizing his mistake. “I mean all of us do.”

If Luke noticed his slip he didn’t comment on it.

“I’m always going to miss her,” He said softly. “But I believe she’s happy with her family and I have you guys and music and I’m happy too. Mostly. Usually.”

Bobby tried and failed not to let that traitorous warmth grow in his chest again at the thought of being one of the things that made Luke happy.

It wasn’t working.

So he turned his attention to the other thing that wasn’t working, the other conversation they needed to have, in an effort to distract himself.

“The tour’s almost over,” He started carefully. “Time to make some decisions.”

Luke let out another one of those deep breaths, Bobby instinctively scooting just half an inch closer until he could reassure himself with the feeling of Luke’s next inhale.

“I know,” Luke acknowledged, his voice sounding tired but not pained.

“Dec’s never going to let this band make it big,” Bobby continued gently. “And we’re almost out of money. Again.”

“I know that too,” Luke said softly. “I just wanted to finish out the tour before I made myself accept it. Even with all the struggling it has been pretty rad, hasn’t it?”

Bobby thought back to the hours and hours of driving in a smelly van and the gross motels and the cancellations and the crappy pay and the absolutely crushing exhaustion. He also thought back to the time spent with his best friends, and the small crowds singing their words back to them, and their dream, or at least some small portion of it that they had scraped and bled to come true.

He thought of Luke’s elated grin when they were playing their first song every night.

“Yeah,” He agreed with a soft smile that he knew Luke wouldn’t be able to see. “It’s been pretty rad.”

“We could keep trying…” Luke offered half-heartedly. “If we keep pushing long enough maybe something in this industry will give.”

“Or we’ll end up washed up and hating each other,” Bobby countered.

“That’s another possibility,” Luke sighed yet again. “But this is all we’ve got, Bobby.”

“Reggie’s been applying to film schools,” Bobby said, cringing at the groaning metal noise that came with Luke’s surprised reaction as he rolled toward his friend.

“He has? Why didn’t he tell me?” Luke asked.

“Nobody wants to let you down,” Bobby explained gently, turning his head to meet Luke’s confused gaze. “We love music, we do. We wanted this, so badly, you know that. But...it’s not like it is for you. It’s not...everything.”

“He could have told me,” Luke grumbled. “I would have been happy for him. I am happy for him.”

“Hey, you can tell him that tomorrow,” Bobby reassured him. “I figure we’re due for one last band meeting.”

“This sucks,” Luke huffed out, turning his head back up to the stars. “Like I don’t have any regrets cause we gave it our best shot, and I want all of you to be happy even if that’s not in the band. But on top of...well, everything else...it still sucks.”

“Yeah,” Bobby agreed simply. “It really sucks.”

“What are you going to do?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know,” Bobby offered honestly. “Maybe go to college? Study literature or psychology.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be a shrink like your parents,” Luke teased.

“Hey, I think we’ve all proven that there are a lot of kids out there who could use someone to talk to about their messed up family dynamics,” Bobby said.

“Too bad they might get stuck talking to you,” Luke joked, bumping his shoulder with Bobby’s and sending an incredibly annoying shock of happiness through him.

“Shut up,” Bobby mumbled, not meaning it. Not at all.

There were a few seconds of silence before Luke spoke up again.

“I really am happy for all of you to do whatever you want,” He said firmly. “Seriously. But I can’t give up on music.”

“I know,” Bobby said softly. “It won’t be easy.”

“Hey,” Luke replied. “I figure impossible is relative in my life at this point.”

Bobby couldn’t resist a short bark of laughter at that.

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

They were silent again for a few long moments before Bobby found just enough courage to give voice to one last fear.

“Hey, Luke? We’re still going to be friends right?”

Luke’s answer came quickly.

“Of course, man. You’re my best friend. Band or no band.”

Bobby nodded, not caring this time that Luke couldn’t see him. When he answered he could hear the held back tears in his voice and he was pretty sure Luke could too.

“Band or no band.”

Luke reached out blindly and latched his hand around Bobby’s, just for a second, but the contact was enough to leave Bobby’s fingers tingling long after his friend had retracted his.

He tried to pretend that it was just the result of some kind of electric shock but…it wasn’t working.

Still.

He couldn’t bring himself to be sad about managing to fall in love with yet another person who couldn’t give him everything he wanted.

Julie had taught them a lot of things but one of the big ones was that something didn’t have to end the way you hoped it would for it to be beautiful, and meaningful and worth it. Love didn’t have to be forever or even returned in the same way to be beautiful, and meaningful and worth it.

Bobby had loved both Queenie and Luke (he probably still did) and he didn’t regret either.

Queenie would always be someone he wished the best for from afar and Luke?

Luke would always be his best friend.

Band or no band.

And that would keep working

He would make sure of it.

[cerseiwondered]

Number 33 plssss

I think I received this prompt over a month ago, and I’m SORRY.

So, this story is set on the same universe as this one, only six months before. So it’s like a prequel. And it follows the same women football rivalry vibes.

Prompt: “An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.”

-

“Smile!”

Sansa smiled for what it felt like the thousandth time, carefully holding her trophy so it would be visible on the picture in a way that it didn’t seem like she was trying to make it visible.

“Nice. Congrats, girls!”, the photographer said, before raising his camera again and going after Sarella Sand, who had won one of the midfielder positions of the Team of the Season.

Sansa turned to her teammates, Wylla and Brienne. The three of them had been chosen as a part of the CONWEBOL -  Westeros and Essos Football Confederation -  2019 Team of the Season, making their club, Stone Hedge United, the one with the biggest number of players on the squad.

Which was pretty cool, especially because the Athletic Club of Hill Horn had been the winner of the Women’s Conquers League, the world’s greatest club competition. Yet, on the TOTS, Sansa had been chosen as the best right-back, Wylla as the best striker, and Brienne as the best goalkeeper.

“Oh, look at her,” Wylla shook her head slightly, green hair catching the light with the movement, as she focused somewhere behind Sansa.

And the redhead spun around solely to see the grinning face of Margaery Tyrell.

Margaery, who was wearing a glorious blue dress, just a bit tight on the torso and loosely falling on the floor, with her entire arms bare and an unbelievable plunging neckline. She smiled to a camera, holding her Team of the Season left-winger trophy with one hand and her Couronne d’Or, the golden crown awarded to the Best Player of the Season, with the other.

“Notice how she’s holding the crown a bit higher than the squad trophy,” Wylla noted, and Sansa chuckled.

“Who can blame her? It’s the greatest honor a player can be given,” Brienne argued.

“Yeah,” Sansa sighed, taking in the shine of the enormous piece of jewelry in Margaery’s hand.

They were all at the CONWEBOL The Best Awards, the annual event that took place every October, in King’s Landing. The Couronne d’Or was the most coveted trophy, and that year Margaery had won it for the third time, more than any active player.

Which irritated her, because Margaery defended Raventree’s City, Stone Hedge’s biggest rival, yes - but also because it just meant a whole new year of Margaery’s poorly concealed arrogant attitude and superior little smirk, and those annoyed Sansa more than anything else.

Especially when that smile was directed at Sansa herself; and Margaery really enjoyed smiling like that at Sansa when they met before matches. And talk to her, always with the same ironic gaze and that smirk that made Sansa feel like she was being furtively laughed at.

Sansa just couldn’t quite understand why Margaery liked to provoke her so much. Yes, they played for rival clubs, but it wasn’t like Sansa was Margaery’s biggest opponent when it came to awards; they didn’t play in the same position, and Wylla was Stone Hedge’s main woman, therefore the one who could challenge Margaery when it came to the Couronne d’Or.

“Look, there is Coach Mormont!”, Wylla exclaimed, driving Sansa’s eyes away from the other woman. “Let’s go talk to her.”

They did, and Sansa quickly forgot all about conceited brunettes and overestimated individual awards as the party went on. It was always one of Sansa’s favorite events of the year; meeting all of her current and former teammates and coaches, getting a chance to talk to players from other clubs that she usually just got to interact with on the field; seeing all those women she would normally see on dirty uniforms wearing those spectacular gowns.

And there were cameras everywhere, and the food was amazing, and the champagne… The champagne was one of a kind, and when Sansa drank one glass a little bit too fast she decided it was perhaps time for her to go to the restroom and take a deep breath.

But she was just the tiniest bit tipsy, hardly enough to let her display her displeasure when she opened the restroom’s door and found Margaery, leaning against the counter and redoing her makeup.

Before facing Sansa with the largest smile, “Hey! I was waiting for an opportunity to talk to you.”

“Why?”

Margaery’s smile turned into the smirk Sansa loathed so much, “To tell you my crown was not the most shining thing in the party tonight.”

Now Sansa did roll her eyes, even as she felt a blush creeping up her neck. She was wearing a tight, long-sleeved silver gown that stopped mid-thigh. Her neckline was not nearly as impressive as Margaery’s, though.

“Thank you. You look nice as well,” she answered through an almost uninterested tone.

Margaery gave a small smile as she lowered her eyes, and for a fraction of a moment, Sansa felt bad for giving her a perhaps indifferent response - before reminding herself that that was Margaery Tyrell, her club rival and someone she and all of her teammates had learned to dislike very much.

Until, “Congrats on your awards tonight.”

Margaery said it so naturally, as she put some lipstick on.

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “I only won one award.”

“Oh, right,” Margaery pressed her lips together. Her lipstick was matte colored, and it looked nice.

“Perhaps when you said awards, plural,” Sansa, better yet, the champagne started, “You were thinking about the multiple awards my team won. You know, the club with the most players on the squad of the season.”

If she knew that would result in Margaery smirking all over again, perhaps Sansa wouldn’t have said it.

“And I was very happy for all of you,” Margaery lied. “I’m so happy your club managed that when it still had the chance.”

Again, the words left her mouth like they were the most ordinary thing to say.

But they weren’t.

“What do you mean?”

Margaery shrugged, “Well, you know. Now that the VAR, the video assistant referee,” she explained it as if there was any chance Sansa wouldn’t know what VAR meant, “Will be officially used in all of our competitions next season… Forget I said anything.”

She averted her gaze back to the mirror, but Sansa pulled her by the arm, and she stared back at the redhead with wide and, Gods dammit, amused eyes.

“Are you possibly implying that my club is benefited by the refereeing?”, Sansa laughed.

“It’s not me, darling,” Margaery shook her head with a falsely innocent look on her face. “It’s the statistics. If it weren’t for refereeing mistakes, your club would’ve finished the league with nine fewer points.”

“And how many points would your club have lost if it weren’t for your diving? You are the biggest diver in the league.”

“I’m the most hunted player in the league, you mean.”

“Too bad I cannot say the same about last chances of winning anything,” Sansa shot to her. “You’ve probably already won the next Couronne d’Or too. Considering you no longer have to do anything win it.”

Margaery’s eyes now widened with her not expecting those words, and Sansa liked it.

“Considering you got it this year without winning the national or the Conquers league, consequently, not winning anything important.”

Margaery blinked. “I literally scored fifty-one goals this season.”

“A true champion,” Sansa scooted closer, feeling the scent of Margaery’s luxurious perfume, almost closing her eyes with it, “Takes their clubs to the top. They don’t just break goal records against farmer clubs and call it a day.”

Deep down, Sansa knew she was wrong; Margaery was the best, most skillful and creative player in the world, and she deserved the recognition she got. Still, the look on her face at that moment was priceless and Sansa would not let it go.

“Eleanor Mooton,” Athletic Club of Hill Horn’s right-winger, “Should’ve won your trophy. You know that full well.”

Margaery twitched her jaw, and her voice was controlled, “Are you saying all of this because you are aware that you will never win a Couronne d’Or while I play and you hate the thought of it?”

Sansa gave a smirk of her own. “I’m a defender. I will never see the face of a Couronne d’Or, I’ve always known that.”

That was no surprise; the only players who were considered Best Players of the Season were forwards or midfielders.

“You can see the face of it,” Margaery’s voice was husky and Sansa’s ears perked without her perceiving why. “You can see the face of three of them,”

She stepped forward and Gods, they were close and Sansa hadn’t realized it.

“In my shelf. In my bedroom.”

And then it was Sansa’s turn to blink. “What?”

Margaery closed the remaining distance, her hands grabbing Sansa’s jaw and yanking her in.

Their lips touched, and Sansa was shocked. Margaery’s fingers slid from Sansa’s face to her hair, nails stroking her scalp, and Sansa shivered with the feeling of it.

Her mouth tasted so good, like champagne and something sweet, and she sucked on Sansa’s lips, leading Sansa to shut her eyes. Her tongue tried and invaded Sansa’s mouth, stroking Sansa’s own tongue, outlining her lips, and she pulled the redhead’s bottom lip between her teeth and-

It was over.

Before Sansa could do anything, touch Margaery, kiss her back properly, it was all over.

All there was left was that stupid smirk and Margaery’s flushed cheeks.

They jumped away from one another when the door was opened.

“Hey, we were looking for the two of you,” it was Irri, a Dothraki woman who played for the Dragonstone Football Club and who had won one of the centre-back spots of the Team of the Season. “They are taking pictures of the squad.”

Margaery only smiled before leaving the restroom, cleaning her lips with a paper towel and indicating Sansa to do the same, and the redhead followed her weakly.

She felt almost numb when she positioned herself among the other players. And every single nerve of her body responded when Margaery, who was right next to her, whispered in her ear,

“My real bedroom, with my trophies, is a bit far away. But my hotel suite isn’t.”

Sansa gulped.

And the cameraman shouted, “Smile!”

[ibethalantyr]

The Visitor

The old conjurer is shut in his stately house, fingers shaking with fear.  The ink is blotting as he writes, but he must write quickly.  While the details are fresh.  While the protection lasts.  Before he comes back.  Oh gods, before he comes back.

“Good evening.”

The greeting was the first indication that a visitor had arrived: no knock or footstep, no alarm from the wards, not even the telltale lights, sounds, and smells of magical teleportation.  Just that voice.

The voice is not one that the old conjurer recognized, but he will never forget it.  Indeed, he suspects it will haunt his dreams.  It probably would have done so even had the encounter gone differently.  There was something about that voice - the resonance, the articulation - that bespoke power.

The old conjurer had managed not to jump (despite his surprise), and turned to find a figure, hooded and cloaked in gray, sitting in a chair near the fire, just across from his own accustomed seat.  Between the seated position and the cloak, it was difficult to judge his height and build.  He was probably a human, though half-elf was possible.  The firelight cast his face into shadow.

The old conjurer decided to be polite, at least at first.  A person who could breach the house’s defenses so easily was not someone to be trifled with, and might have a good reason for taking the trouble.  And the fact that he had announced his presence with a salutation rather than a malediction suggested that his intent was not hostile.

The old conjurer indicated that he does not generally conduct business so late in the day, but that if his visitor was in urgent need of magical items or consultation, he supposed he could make an exception.  Or something to that effect.

“Neither your artifacts nor your lore hold any interest for me, conjurer.  Some information is all that I require.”

The old conjurer, although stung by the dismissal, smiled in what he hoped was a self-deprecating manner.  He said that most passersby came in search of magic, and that he doubted he possessed information of any other sort that would be valuable to anyone.

“It is of passersby that I wish to speak, in fact.  You are acquainted with most of the adventurers active in this region, are you not?”

He demurred.  Some, perhaps even many, but not most.  A few, like the present visitor, had no interest in his services, while a great many others could not afford the old conjurer’s rates.

“It is possible that the one I am seeking might fall into the latter group, I am not certain.  Tell me: is there anyone to whom you refer those unable to afford your rates?  An apprentice, perhaps?”

The old conjurer stiffened, and his tone changed.  He has no apprentice, as anyone in town will have told his visitor when he enquired.  That he was asking about one indicated that he was much better informed than he was letting on.  The old conjurer told him as much, and added that while he was willing to attribute an uninvited entrance to mere eccentricity, prying into someone else’s private papers was just plain rude.

Something triggered the old conjurer’s contingency.  It definitely happened before the trespasser started to cast, of that he was certain even in the moment.  He must have activated a contingency of his own, or perhaps some kind of magical item.  He then began a transmutation spell, one his host had never heard before.

Since the encounter with the gnome, the old conjurer had started taking additional precautions against unexpected magical attacks.  In addition to the contingency, which cloaked him in a spell shield, he had also prepared a spell trigger with a fuller array of protections: stoneskin, spell deflection, and greater invisibility. He activated this, and then began to cast himself.

Glitterdust first, to check if some sort of illusion was in operation.  Sure enough, the seated figure was a fake, or was now.  It vanished, while the dust revealed the genuine article: a tall, cloaked shape, now standing about ten feet away, roughly in the center of the room.  He was still casting, uttering an incantation of tremendous complexity.  Hoping that it would go on for some time longer, and trusting in own magical defenses to hold against whatever was coming, the old conjurer went on the attack.  He started up Khelben’s Warding Whip, to begin stripping away any magical defenses his enemy might have in place.

He was still two and a half lines from finishing when the enemy cast.  He felt the spell shield break, but knew that the deflection was still in place.  The whip struck home, the light pattern dazzling and unfamiliar.  As he reached for his first acid arrow, the old conjurer realized with a jolt that he was visible.  He had not heard any divination or dispelling, which the spell shield should have blocked in any case.  What kind of transmutation could remove invisibility and a spell shield simultaneously?

Something hit the spell deflection.  Hard.  The trespasser had uttered a Word of Power.  Quick to cast, impossible to resist, it was only the spell deflection that kept the old conjurer from being rendered insensible.  He finished the acid arrow, which struck his enemy squarely in the chest...and vanished in another flash of light.  He, too, was still shielded somehow.

They considered each other briefly.  The old conjurer began to feel a creeping sense of dread.  His visitor merely looked amused. 

In the blink of any eye, they were back at it.

His enemy began an evocation, and the old conjurer recognized it immediately as an ice storm.  An area of effect spell made sense.  It would affect cause damage even with the spell deflection in place.  But why so long an incantation, and in so small a room?  Perhaps he had some sort of cold protection in effect?  The old conjurer decided to counter with a spread of flame arrows.  He was certain to finish first, and protection from cold often brought with it extra vulnerability to fire, assuming the warding whip hadn’t finally finished its work.

These arrows, too, struck, setting the cloak on fire, but his enemy took no notice.  His shields were still in place.  The old conjurer braced himself for the ice fall to begin.  It didn’t.  The ice storm, too, impacted the spell deflection directly, breaking it. The old conjurer was vulnerable.

The trepasser began an enchantment.  The old conjurer countered with melf again, which would be faster than all but the simplest of charms, and these he felt confident he could resist.  The arrow was off just before his enemy finished the hold spell.  No effect.  And now the old conjurer was locked in place, unable to move.

Wasting no time, his visitor opened the writing desk and extracted this very book. He rifled rapidly through its pages, stopping occasionally at passages that glowed, under the influence of some spell or another (cast when?!).

The old conjurer had no choice but to watch him.  His cloak continued to burn, but he he paid it no mind, fully absorbed in what he was doing.  He wasted no time, but did not seem to be in any hurry either, confident, apparently, that no attack or interference was possible.  But his frustration was growing.  He turned pages faster and faster, now barely stopping to read.  When he ran out of written pages, he closed the book smartly.  Then he slammed it down on the desk with enough force to set the ink bottles rattling.

“I do not know what you and that young fool have done, or rather will do, but you should consider yourself fortunate.  It has saved your life.”  He crossed the room to wear the old conjurer was standing, covering the distance with astonishing speed despite still seeming not to hurry.  And now they were face-to-face.

Under the cloak, which had now burned away entirely, he was wearing nothing apart from a sort of leather harness.  It fitted tightly to his head, leaving only the face exposed: pale skin, scarred and stretched, as though to counteract the sagging of age.  Around the eyes no such concealment was possible. They were deeply lined.  And the eyes themselves: pale again and strangely bright, as though skinned.  The old conjurer looked down, the only movement of which he was capable.  The chest showed clearly through the harness, all beautifully-chiseled muscle, yet wrong, at odds both with the grotesque head and somehow with itself as well.

“This will complicate my work, and for that alone you would die.  But I do not need a major disruption to the timeline on top of my other difficulties.  And the nature of the anomaly suggests that you cannot reveal me to my quarry.  So you live.  For now.”

And then he is gone, employing yet another unknown spell.

The old conjurer is uncertain how long he remained held.  Almost an hour, he thinks.  The fear makes it difficult to judge.  As soon as he can move, he set up as much protection as he could as quickly as he could, and then set about creating this record.  The visitor has not returned in the two hours that he has been writing, whether because the protection is working or for reasons of his own.  In case the former, the remaining hour of protection needs to be used with care, to reflect, and to plan the next steps...

It is now the afternoon of the following day, and the old conjurer is still intact.  He spent the night and the morning in town.  He communicated as much he could of the encounter to the smith and the governor, and both have offered what help they can.  The smith ventured out to the house and found it empty.  The governor will arrive at dawn to add his own blessings to the existing protections of the house, which the old conjurer is already planning to reinforce and rearrange.  Between the gnome and this most recent encounter, he is considering the deployment of some sort of non-magical anti-wizard defense.  Perhaps some sort of highly magic resistant creature?  Not an easy undertaking, but a very necessary one.  Best not to record any more details here.  It is plain that the trespasser had gained magical access to this book before his visit, and indeed that the visit itself was motivated by a desire for clarity about what he had found. This must, then, have something to do with the anomalous entries the old conjurer recently uncovered.  Yet another reason to untangle that particular mystery.

One mystery after another, for the visitor himself is riddle of the most terrible kind.  He is clearly a mage of immense power.  Obvious enough, but the scale of his power seems greater and not less upon further examination. The old conjurer has spent much of the last day reconstructing the duel as best he can. His conclusions are most disquieting.

The unfamiliar transmutation with which he opened would seem to have been a time stop, a ninth-tier working. That is the simplest explanation for the multiple effects of the casting. What had seemed to the old conjurer to be a single instant had been, for his opponent, something more like 5 minutes, time during which he cast (at least) two additional spells: a divination, by means of which the invisibility was dispelled, and the magical attack which breached the spell shield.

The latter was probably a spellstrike, another ninth-tier working. A spellstrike would have removed all of the old conjurer’s defenses, leaving him vulnerable to the Word.  A mage of immense power, to be sure.

And what of the defense?  It must have been a spell trap: ninth-tier again, and the only sort of magical defense which the warding whip does not remove.  It might have been deployed, along with the illusion, as part of a spell trigger or chain contingency, though as far as the old conjurer has ever heard it is impossible to store ninth-tier spells in such a fashion.  Could this wizard be strong enough to bend the generally accepted rules of magic? Disquieting conclusions indeed.

So, why is it the hold spell that has disquieted him the most? He thought at first that it was just the panic of being trapped, vulnerable in the face of such an overwhelmingly superior opponent.  But even hours later, something about the casting has left the old conjurer...disconcerted.

Wait.

I know.

There is work to be done...

[inyournightmares97]

Love Languages

Sometimes, it’s hard to understand the person you love. 

Warnings: Fluff, some language. 

Word Count:  4.1k+

Note: This is my unfortunate attempt at a birthday present for the lovely @softseunies. Thank you so much for being such a wonderful friend and listener. I really don’t know what I would do without you. Have a great birthday!!!

As you stood with the soft wind brushing your cheeks and his warm hand entwined in yours, you wondered why it took an entire lifetime for you and Jackson to recognize that you loved each other. His lips gently brushed your forehead and he looked down at you with his familiar, handsome smile. 

You see, some couples blame the delay on bad timing or insecurities. Others blame it on distance and external circumstances. But in your case it was none of those things.

Jackson had always loved you. 

You had always loved Jackson. 

The two of you simply loved each other in different languages. 

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1.       Missing Each Other

Jackson missed you most when he was alone. 

He was an extrovert- he surrounded himself with people, with work and distractions of both the good and the bad variety. His days were usually busy and he liked it that way. 

Because when he was alone, he did nothing but think of you. 

Jackson lay back in bed that night and closed his eyes, but sleep evaded him. With all the noise and chit-chat on the surface gone, he was forced to delve deeper into his mind. The hidden part that always missed you, the part that always wondered what you were doing, the part that wished you were beside him. 

His thumb hovered over your contact number. 

You liked to be left alone on your nights in. Jackson knew that better than anyone. You didn’t like unexpected calls and unexpected visitors. You often responded with an annoyed huff when he called you on Friday nights, mostly because he had interrupted your late-night binge-watching or because you were trying to study. 

You didn’t think about Jackson when you were alone. Not the way Jackson thought about you. He knew that.  

Still, he couldn’t resist. His fingers hovered over the chat for a few moments before he typed in the message. 

Are you asleep? 

The little tick mark appeared almost instantly, indicating that you had read his message. Jackson held his breath for a few moments as you typed, wondering if he was going to get scolded for interrupting the latest Song Joong-ki drama. 

I wish, your reply said. My roommate dragged me to this party. I don’t know anyone here and she won’t let me leave because I’m her ride home. I was about to text you. 

Jackson smiled. 

Maybe talk to some new people? he suggested. 

Your response was instant. I’d rather die. 

I’ll drop by. Send me the address.  

You smiled to yourself and closed the chat app. Jackson was always up for a good party. He loved talking to new people. He loved mingling and drinking and being the center of attention.  He thrived in environments like these and everyone loved him. 

Not you. You walked into a party and instantly wished Jackson was there beside you. 

Parties reminded you of how unbearable other people could be and how much you disliked everybody that wasn’t Jackson Wang. Being alone came naturally to you. But making friends, going out and mingling with people took effort. 

It was just so much easier when Jackson was by your side. 

You weaved your way through the packed apartment, navigating sweaty drunken college students who were unstable enough to stomp on your feet and make you want to shove them away. 

You had never felt as lonely as you did at these wild college parties. They made you wonder if something was wrong with you, if there was a reason why the activities that everyone looked forward to so much made you miserable. 

Then you saw Jackson. 

His smile was bright as he made a bee-line towards you. Someone called out his name in a cheerful manner, and he waved at them before finally coming to a stop in front of you. 

“Hey,” Jackson greeted you with a chuckle. “You look like you’ve been imprisoned in a dungeon for months. Why the long face?”

A warmth enveloped you the moment he arrived- not only the physical warmth that came from his arm sliding around your shoulder but the warmth of his presence, the way your body instantly relaxed simply from his being there.

You pouted. “I sat on the couch and a couple nearly fell on me.”

“Should I go teach them a lesson?” he joked. 

“They need a room, not a lesson,” you replied with a sigh. “I need a room too. My room. At home, with my blanket and my pillows and my tv.” 

“You can’t always have those.”

“Then I’ll take the next best thing,” you replied. 

“And what’s that?”

Jackson looked down at you, his eyes twinkling even in the dim lights and the deafening music. 

You, you thought silently as a drunken dancer bumped  into Jackson, pushing you both apart. Jackson laughed and waved off the man's apologies. The unanswered question hung lightly in the air for a few moments before it was naturally brushed aside, by Jackson suggesting that you move the conversation out of the way of the dancing partygoers. 

His grip on your arm was the most comforting feeling in the world. 

You missed Jackson most in a crowded room. 

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2.                   Solving Each Other’s Problems

Jackson knew that you didn’t like taking help. You could complain about your problems all day long, and insist that the world had wronged you, but you hated asking someone else to solve the issue.

Which was why sometimes Jackson had to do it in secret. 

“I just know he’s going to fail me,” you whined. One of the TAs in your mandatory classes had been flirting with you all semester. It started out with harmless compliments which you had brushed off, but eventually it escalated into him persistently asking you out and insisting that you let him take you out to dinner. 

A few days ago, you had finally told the TA to go to hell. 

He hadn’t taken it well. 

“He can’t fail you for no reason,” Jackson tried to reassure you. Your face was flushed and you were stabbing at your lunch as though it was your enemy. “There’s a Professor, he’ll put a stop to it. Just focus on the paper and you’ll be fine.” 

You stabbed harder. “The Professor is a lazy piece of shit. Everyone knows he lets the TAs grade the papers and doesn’t even review them. That TA could give me any grade he wants and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.” 

Jackson bit his lip. “What if you went and talked it out with him?”

“I won’t.”

“But what if you did?”

You stared at Jackson in disbelief. “Why should I? He’s the one that couldn't handle the rejection. Why am I responsible for making peace? He should apologize. It’s inappropriate for him to hit on a student and even more inappropriate for him to get all offended after she’s said no. I will not talk to the man. Let him fail me. I’ll file a formal complain with the Dean. Let him graduate with sexual harassment on his record.”

Jackson nodded and smiled. 

It wouldn’t come to that. Unbeknownst to you, Jackson had already talked to your TA. The senior student had been defensive at first, but once Jackson calmed him down and talked to him in his usual friendly way, he confessed that he’d been going through a lot at home. Apparently his family had been pressuring him to get a girlfriend and he'd taken out the frustration on you. Jackson invited the TA to a few parties where he could meet some more willing single women, and even offered to set up a group date so he could mingle with some new people. 

Jackson Wang left that room, as he did most rooms, having made a new friend. 

But he would never tell you the truth. 

You’d be furious. 

“I can’t eat anymore,” you decided miserably. You glanced at Jackson’s empty plate. “You done? Let’s take a walk before you have to go back to class.”

“Sure.”

You both took a leisurely stroll in the campus gardens. It was spring and there were a lot of people outside. You glanced towards the basketball court and frowned when you noticed a group of young men standing near the court. 

You tugged at Jackson’s sleeve. 

“Which one of those guys did you say bought his way onto the team with his dad’s money?” you asked. 

Jackson was captain of the college basketball team, and you had often listened to his stories of frustration with his teammate. What the guy lacked in talent he apparently made up for with money, ego and parental influence. 

“The tall one with the tattoo. His father knows the Dean. He never wants to actually practice- I think he just likes being on the team so he can flirt with the cheerleaders,” Jackson sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. “I can’t even bench him because the coach won't let me. He’s going to cost us the season. There goes my shot at winning the title.”

“You’re just too soft.”

“I am not soft.”

“Yes, you are. You want to solve all your problems with peace and talking and understanding. Well you know what Jackson Wang? Some people just need a good, hard punch in the face.”

Jackson laughed. “And who’s going to give him that?”

“I will. Right now.” 

“What?” The expression on your face worried him and his smile fell. “Don’t do something stupid-”’

You grinned. “Relax. He has no idea who I am and this is an enormous campus. Hide behind that bush so they don’t see you, and let me demonstrate how I handle problems, Wang.” 

Jackson watched with wide eyes as you walked over to the group of men. He couldn’t hear what you were saying- you were too far away, but Jackson’s eyes couldn't miss the sight of you pulling back your fist and socking the guy right in the middle of his face. He doubled over in pain, horrified, while you turned to yell something to the cheerleaders standing nearby and then stormed away. 

Jackson stared in horror as you walked back towards him coolly. You had a smug smile on your face as you ducked down to join him behind the bushes, your face flushed with pleasure and slightly out of breath. 

“Did you just-”

“He just got punched in the face by a girl. The rest of the team will never respect him again,” you giggled. 

“What-what did you say to the cheerleaders?” 

“I told them he gave me herpes,” you replied as Jackson gaped at you in disbelief. You smiled back at him. 

Jackson was a good person, and he saw the best in people. He believed that everyone deserved a second chance. You wondered how such an intelligent man could be so naive about the world. 

Some people just needed a good punch in the face. And if Jackson wasn’t capable of doing it, then you would do it for him. 

Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out to check your messages. 

“Huh,” you muttered. 

“What?” Jackson asked. 

“The TA just texted me to apologize,” you replied, not noticing the grin that spread across Jackson’s face. “I wonder what made him realize he made a mistake?”

“Strange,” Jackson mused. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3. Supporting Each Other

For the first time in your life, you had no idea what to do. 

You had never handled grief before, neither in yourself nor anyone around you. You couldn't imagine how it felt. The pain caused by the loss of a loved one was something that had no parallel in this world. 

And Jackson was going through it right now. 

"Thank God you came," Jinyoung greeted you in the hallway. He had called to tell you the news and you had driven for 8 hours through the night to make it here. "He was asking about you."

"Is he… is he okay?"

Jinyoung merely shrugged, not seeming to know what to say. "Go in."

"I… I don't know what to do," you admitted pathetically. "I've never, I mean, I've never…"

Jinyoung gave you a small smile. "You're his best friend. You'll know."

Would you? You were nervous as you entered the apartment. It was dark- nothing seemed out of the ordinary and yet you could see the silhouette of Jackson sitting on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his head buried in his knees. His shoulders had dropped and his entire body seemed to have given up. 

Your breath hitched.

"Hi," you greeted softly. "It's just me."

Jackson looked up at you. His eyes were red and he merely nodded, watching you as you quietly took a seat in the sofa across from him. You felt almost afraid to touch him, afraid to do something wrong or hurt him more than he was already hurt. 

"You didn't have to come," he said quietly. 

What would you want someone to do if you were grieving the loss of family? You tried to picture your parents dying and the grief that word come with it. 

In all honesty, you'd want everyone to leave you alone. 

"I won't bother you," you promised him gently. The peace between the two of you felt enormous, but you wanted to give him that space, believed that he needed it in order to grieve. "I'm just going to sit here."

Jackson blinked. "Okay."

"Okay."

You couldn't remember how long you sat there. It could have been hours. The early morning sunlight began to stream in through the windows while the two of you sat in that singular, heavy silence. 

"Are you just going to sit there?" Jackson asked you finally. 

You jerked upright. "Are you hungry? I can make breakfast. Should I make breakfast? Or I can run you a bath or something, maybe the warm water would be relaxing."

Jackson cut you off. "No, not that, I-"

Your heart sank. "Is me being here bothering you? I can leave."

Jackson blinked at you before slowly unravelling his arms from around his knees and holding them out towards you. You stared at his outstretched arms for a long moment, not understanding what he meant. 

Then it clicked. 

Oh. 

You scooted closer, letting Jackson wrap his arms around you tightly and hugging him back in return. He snuggled his head into your neck and you could feel the warmth of Jackson's tears, and every small shudder that racked his body. You felt like an idiot as you gently stroked his back. 

You wanted to support him by giving him space, but Jackson had only wanted you to hold him close.

Your arms tightened around him. 

You would never let him go. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4. Dealing with Intoxication

As you grew older, and your lives diverged, it became more and more difficult for you and Jackson to see each other. Work, families, obligations…

They were all hurdles, but nothing could fully succeed in tearing you apart. 

"Let's stay in and watch a movie," Jackson suggested. He had driven four hours to come visit you over the long weekend, and you both finally had some time off work to relax and unwind.

You made a face. "I do that every night."

"Exactly."

"Let's go out drinking," you suggested hopefully. 

Jackson raised an eyebrow. You weren't the kind of person who enjoyed clubs or any place where copious amounts of alcohol was served. As far as Jackson knew, places like that made you uncomfortable. But recently, you seemed to want to get drinks whenever the two of you met.

"You're drinking a lot recently," Jackson pointed out, concerned. "Is work stressing you out?"

You frowned and flushed. "I only drink with you."

Jackson laughed. "I'm so unbearable that you have to be drunk to deal with my visits?"

You sank into the sofa, not sure how to explain it to him. Jackson wouldn't understand. Drinking wasn't a wild, reckless, party activity like it was for him. 

For you, it was more intimate than that.

You never drank with your co-workers, or even with your friends. Intoxication made you feel vulnerable and it made you honest. Those were two things that you didn't want to be with most people. Your walls were always up, and you didn't like that alcohol forced you to bring them down. 

Except with Jackson. 

You didn't mind the walls coming down around Jackson. 

He was the only person you felt safe enough to drink with, to get tipsy and giggle and say silly things because you knew that he would never judge you. He would never manipulate your vulnerability and would always, always make sure you were comfortable. 

But Jackson regularly drank with people he barely knew, so he clearly didn't feel the same way. 

"Let's stay in and get a movie," Jackson insisted while blinking at you with the full force of his puppy-dog eyes. He had driven four hours to be here and he wanted to see you. To spend quality time with you before he had to leave again.

Jackson Wang could proclaim his love to anybody while drunk. Man, woman, animal, it didn't matter. The alcohol would go ahead and do it for him. 

But you were the only person Jackson would continue to love once he was  sober. 

But he couldn't tell you that. He couldn't tell you that he didn't want to waste the little time that he had with you being drunk, because your adorable face had fallen. 

"Let's compromise," you suggested. "I'll pick out a movie, and you go get us a bottle of wine to share right here."

Jackson sighed. "Fine," he relented reluctantly. You did have a tendency to cuddle when you were tipsy, so perhaps he would compromise and just enjoy the feeling of you snuggled up next to him in his arms.

It was a shame Jackson never understood that you wanted to show him parts of yourself that you never showed anyone else. 

It was a shame you never understood that Jackson valued time he spent with you in a way that he didn't value time spent with anyone else. 

But that was all okay. 

When you're learning a new language, you're bound to misunderstand a few things.  

--------------------------------------------------------------

5. Sharing your love with others

Jackson kept a picture of you on his desk at work. 

"That's the girl I'm in love with," he would announce to anyone who bothered to glance at it for more than two seconds. "She doesn't know yet, but I'll tell her someday. Isn't she gorgeous?" he asked fondly, picking up the picture to admire your bright smile. 

"Uh, yeah," Mark replied awkwardly. "Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow your stapler?"

Jackson nodded. "Sure."

Mark chuckled as he took it. "Thanks. You should tell her soon, or somebody might snatch her up."

Jackson smiled. "I will "

He wasn't ashamed of it- Jackson was proud of you and given the chance he would show you off to the world. Everyone at his workplace knew that he was pining after you- the receptionists had long given up flirting with him. It wasn't worth the horror of having to listen to him while he talked about how much he loved you. 

Leaning back in his chair, Jackson sent off one last email for the day before taking out his phone. He sent you a text with a smile. 

Hey! Done working yet?

You took a minute to respond. Hardly. I'm going to be working late today. There's a Board meeting next week so we're swamped. 

Yikes. Call me when you get home. 

I will, you promised. Are we still going to Skype and finish the last episode of Stranger?

Jackson responded reluctantly. Do we have to? I stopped following around episode 10….

Jackson…

Okay, fine. We'll finish the damn thing. Text me when you get home, okay?

You smiled and tucked your phone away with a smile. Jackson's protests were just him being dramatic- you knew he was as invested in the series as you were, he was just pretending to hate it because it was your suggestion. 

"Well, well, look who's giggling at her phone during work," a coworker teased you.

You blushed. "It's just a friend."

"Just a friend? Sounds like something more," she pressed. "Come on. Everyone knows you have a man in your life, you're constantly checking your messages and blushing. Why won't you tell us?"

"There's nothing to tell!" you insisted.

"Liar," another girl piped in. "At least show us his picture! You must have grabbed a hottie- you have that girl-next-door appeal that hot guys would die for!"

You brushed them off and stood up, going into the break room to get a cup of coffee. You would never show them Jackson's picture or tell them about Jackson. You knew how vicious the girls at work were. They acted like they wanted to see your boyfriend's picture and then make snarky comments behind your back about how you must be dating him for the money.

You didn't want to expose Jackson to that. 

No, what you felt for Jackson was precious, and you refused to let these co-workers get their grubby hands on Jackson or your love for him. 

You guarded your love for him jealously, and with everything you had. 

Perhaps one day you would tell him. 

But you wanted him to be the first person you told. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

6. Lastly, Expressing your Love for Each Other

The day came sooner than you imagined, but much, much later than it should have. 

You planned everything. The place, the time, the atmosphere and even your escape route in case things should things go downhill. You had an entire speech prepared and Jackson would be forced to listen to it whether he likes it or not. 

Afterwards, he would make the decision that determined whether your years of pining after him would be a sweet story to tell your grandkids, or be that one horrifying event in your life that left you a bitter, heartbroken old cat lady. 

Either way, you were prepared. 

"Wow, this place is beautiful," Jackson commented. The beach was empty at night and a cool breeze brushed your faces as you walked with the sand between your toes. "It's pretty great weather to be out here. Doesn't weather like this put you in a great mood?"

You looked up at him nervously."I have to tell you something."

He chuckled. "Is that a warning?"

"No, I- I'm just letting you know that I have something to say. And I've been thinking about this for a while so hear me out before you react, okay?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

"You've been in my life for a long time."

Jackson tilted his head. "True."

"And during that time, I… I guess I've grown to trust you and care for you. You're a great friend, that's true, but you're also more than that. I love your company. I love being around you, being with you, and spending time with you. I used to think it was a stupid crush that would pass someday but we're past the age for stupid crushes and these feelings aren't showing any signs of fading so…"

Jackson's eyes were soft as he looked down at you. "So?"

You swallowed. "I'm in love with you. I just wanted you to know. But I know you might not feel the same way, so you… you can just tell me the truth straight and I'll be prepared for it whatever it is."

"Are you sure you're prepared for my response?"

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. You had imagined Jackson letting you down a hundred times. You had imagined him telling you that he loved you a hundred times more. Whatever he did, you would be prepared. 

Jackson leaned down and kissed you. 

You weren't prepared. 

While his soft lips descended on yours, and his arms wrapped around you gently, your head reeled in shock. You had never envisaged this happening. Perhaps because you had spent so much time preparing what to say that you assumed….

Well, that he would say something in response.

But it's okay, you realized as you relaxed against him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed Jackson back hard and let him hold you and love you in the way he had always wanted to. It's okay if we love each other in different languages. 

Because once you know what love is, you can learn how to say it in any language you want. 

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".

--

Penelope didn’t have the slightest clue who might send her a package much less what it might contain.   Her family was barely speaking with her at this point since she’d abandoned them for the Bridgerton home.  To be perfectly honest her initial thought that it was a mistake and the package wasn’t for her at all but Eloise had been so insistent that it was for her and they needed to investigate its contents immediately.

The package had been delivered to the guest room that she was staying in.  It looked enormous as she made her way through the door and caught sight of it from the doorway. No wonder Eloise was so curious about it!

The package was massive, a neat box with ribbon around it in a neat bow to seal it off.  In simple lettering there was her name and the address for her old home. Someone had saw fit to send it from there to here but there was no denying that it was meant for her and yet, she was almost scared of the contents.

When she opened, there was a simple piece of parchment folded over.  She reached for it first hoping for some answers to the who or what.

Inscribed in a handwriting that felt familiar but not something she could put with a person was a simple sentence ‘For when you decide to put away the mourning black’ and it was unsigned. She turned the parchment over as if hoping for there to be more, her face twisting in confusion.

“Do you recognize this handwriting?” she asked handing the letter over the Eloise.

Eloise for her part took it up and rose an eyebrow at the words.  There was a moment of silence before she saw the other girl shake her head no.

“It’s familiar but no,” she said honestly before she egged things on. “Perhaps the contents will give us more of a clue who sent it.”

Penelope nodded forging ahead.  Wrapped curiously in the box was the most beautiful fabric that she’d ever seen and her eyes widened as she pulled it free realizing it was a dress.

Eloise’s jaw nearly hit the floor in surprise as the dress revealed itself.

“You have an admirer,” Eloise declared moving to touch the dress, examine it alongside her friend. “It’s going to look incredible on you – but in order to decide where you should wear it, we clearly need to investigate.”

There was no question that it would fit.  It was perfect. Penelope couldn’t remember ever owning something that looked as if it was truly meant for her.

She laid the dress on her bed before focusing back on the box, looking for any indicators of where it might have come from. It was Eloise who spotted their first clue.

“It came from France,” she said excitedly. “Who do you know in France?

That didn’t particularly answer any questions though.

There was no one that she knew. Her mind searched the last year, conversations that she’d had with people and it was only when she remember a conversation that she’d had with Eloise that a lightbulb went off in her head.

“Benedict,” she said after a long moment.  Surprised at the answer.

“He’s not been in France. We were literally just speaking with him.”

“No,” she said with a hand gesture.  “You said he was friends with the Modiste, right?”

“Well yes,” Eloise said clearly not putting two and two together.

“And you said that she was traveling to France, yes?”

“Yes but – why would Madame Delacroix send you this dress with that note?”

“Benedict,” Penelope repeated, confusion flooding her features.

“Okay but why would he –“ Eloise asked, clearly missing out on something big.

“Because he proposed,”  Penelope finally told her friend.  Sure, it probably should have come up in conversation in the many weeks of her staying there but it seemed easier to not say anything at all since she’d rejected it.

“He what?” Eloise almost yelled.

Penelope covered her friend’s mouth with her hand in an attempt to not disturb the whole of the household.

“Weeks ago,” Penelope told her, removing her hand only when she was certain there wouldn’t be more yelling.  “I rejected it.”

“All things considered should I be worried for Anthony or Gregory,”  Eloise couldn’t help but ask before she realized it might be insensitive. “I’m sorry - I just didn’t expect that but it makes sense.  Maybe he thinks he can change your mind.”

The truth of the matter was that Penelope had all but made up her mind that she wouldn’t but then there was that dress; the perfect dress and the note made sense to her.  He was willing to wait until she was ready to forge ahead.  She closed her eyes for a long moment, willing to conflicting thoughts at bay.  

Maybe she did need to consider the offer.

“What if I did?” Penelope asked after a long moment.

--

Dinner was certainly quieter than usual.  Violet Bridgerton was used to her children being quite talkative but the majority of conversation seemed to be led by Anthony.

There seemed to be something quite curious going on: Eloise kept looking toward Benedict, Penelope seemed overly preoccupied with her dinner, Benedict kept looking between Eloise and Penelope.  She desperately wanted to get to the bottom of this but she knew eventually the truth would come out.

“Did anyone do anything interesting today?” she asked as she cut her quail, taking a bite as she waited for a response.

“I don’t know. Benedict, have you done anything interesting recently?” Eloise asked pointedly.

“I …can’t say that I did,” he responded looking to Anthony for support because he definitely didn’t know what his little sister was on about.

“Don’t look to me,” Anthony responded. “I don’t know what you’ve done.”

“He didn’t do anything but if he did it was most kind,” Penelope finally offered.

“So he did something kind,” Hyacinth said jumping into the adult conversation at hand.

“That doesn’t sound much like our brother,” Gregory added, not one to be left out.

Violet now knew that Benedict had done something but she didn’t know what it was.  Whatever it was Eloise was clear on it, though she wasn’t based on her powers of motherly observation if that thing was actually considered good or bad.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, sounding more and more confused by the moment. “If someone would like to tell me what I did, I’d be much appreciative.”

“So, you didn’t propose to my best friend?” Eloise said from across the table.

“BENEDICT BRIDGERTON,” Violet raising her voice. Her jaw dropped silently. Clearly she had missed that part. “When did you intend to tell your mother?

“Weeks ago and she said no,” he said with a shrug.  He came fairly close to throwing Anthony under the bus for having been the one to lead him down that path but he took mercy.

Penelope was pretty sure if she could have melted into the table and disappeared at the moment she would have because all eyes were immediately on her.

Dinner was growing cold as the entertainment was clearly of greater value to all.

“But he hasn’t given up,” Eloise felt a need to point out. “I caught him speaking with her alone outside. At the time I didn’t know what he was up to but –“

“It was an innocent conversation and she approached me,”  he said, in defense of the situation.

“Eloise-“ Penelope said trying to get this whole thing to stop.

Eloise was too far gone though and there would be no stopping any conversation she felt she needed to have at this moment.

“Well you better invite me along on the honeymoon,”  Eloise said, making an indignant sound. “I still think it’s crazy but – you won.”

“I won?” Benedict asked incredulously.

“Your little gift did the trick,” Eloise said rolling her eyes.

“What gift?” Anthony asked.

“The dress,”  Penelope said after a long moment.

“You bought her a dress?!” Violet asked sounding absolutely delighted.

Anthony and Benedict exchanged glances and Benedict shook his head.  They’d all lost their mind because he certainly hadn’t sent anything.  Would it be wise to argue it at this point?  Benedict was starting to wonder if someone had done something on his behalf or maybe he had been drunk and done something.

“Uh… did I?” he asked.

“Yes and it was beautiful,” Penelope said finally.

Benedict clearly looked unsure what to say and he was almost grateful for the fact that Anthony was the one to excuse himself from the table, look at his brother.

“Well, we’re glad to hear that you like it,” Anthony said.  “We have some other… things to work on but um, yeah- It pleases me to hear you’re reconsidering the proposal.”

Benedict mouthed a ‘thank you’ at his brother and followed him out, moving than he would had the room actually been in fire. He needed to know what in the unholy Hell was going on, especially since their mother was now involved.

The only thing more dangerous than their mother when there was a match to be made was their mother when there was a wedding to be planned.

He wasn’t quite sure if that was the case here but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out when there were more pressing things to figure out first.