#and also pls tell me if this comes off in the same light as americans making this about their election. i really dont want it to. im just

[morgana-pendragon]

can i verbalise a selfish thought for a moment. dont read the tags if thatll bother you or anything

[bruhlsbees]

modern!flatmate!andrea marowski headcannons (sfw)

shout out to @rumblelibrary for the idea!!!! :)) i hope you enjoy our sweet boy (now man?) and his love for birds. if you'd like to see more of modern!flatmate!andrea please let me know! also here is the link for the nsfw headcannons! minors pls dni with that one!

andrea marowski was a transfer student from a school in poland, studying fine arts with a concentration in playing the violin

coming to america was a bit of a culture shock for him - at first he planned on living alone, but the transfer program suggested he live with a group of people, that way he would have a better time adjusting

and so he did - andrea moved into a flat with five other roommates and got to experience the full american college life

he was terrible at cooking when you first moved in - you'd find what he was cooking still on the stove with andrea nowhere to be found - prompting you to finish the cooking so the house didn't burn down

the man was so scatter brained that you felt like you were taking care of a toddler - he had a hard time remembering to eat, since he was always playing the violin or doing school work - that you would always make enough for both yourself and him

"you need to eat, you know, i think playing the violin could wait until after a meal"

he'd shake his head, brushing you off as he sat down at his desk to eat

"i'm not hungry"

you'd laugh at his comment, sitting on his bed as you ate your own plate

"you say that because you think you've eaten. you go to make something and when you walk away and forget your brain tells you that you ate it. when really you haven't and your body is starving"

he'd look at you, eyebrows furrowed into a glare, although he looked more adorable than frightening

"rude" he would say flatly

and you'd laugh again, shaking your head as you ate

"it's not being rude, andrea, it's telling the truth"

he lived next door to you - and since the walls were thin you could hear just about everything that went on in his room

you knew that andrea played the violin, and you always were pleased to listen - but he didn't understand that playing the violin wasn't something you do at 3 a.m. while everyone was sleeping

andrea also liked to knock on your wall. your desks were positioned at the same spot on either side of the wall, and with the walls being so thin you could hear him just fine

"y/n, i print paper?"

you were the one to have a printer in your flat. you knew that you should have just put it in the living room or something, but you used it the most so it stayed in your room

andrea was always polite, asking to use your things and doing it in your room so he wouldn't forget to give it back to you - but he had a terrible senes of personal space

when you laid in your bed, he would lay beside you, and since he was taller than you, he took up more room, but didn't see the issue

"andrea, could you please move your feet? they are in my face"

if you were sitting at the dining room table, he'd sit beside you, only he'd move the chair so you were shoulder to shoulder

at first you thought he was only doing it to be funny - to bother you like an annoying brother would - but then you caught him staring, smiling at you with his cheeks pink

he would whisper things in polish towards you during these moments, but you never knew what he was saying - and he never told you either

they were cute names though, nothing bad - beautiful was his most favorite that he called you

andrea did a lot of odd things - one of the things he especially liked to do was play dead in the pool your flat had out back

you were all dressed in your suit, ready to go swim, when you'd find him floating face down in the pool

of course you'd scream, you always did and you started to wonder if that's what kept him going

when you'd shake him, plead for him to be alive, he'd open his eyes and grin at you, letting out a laugh as you shoved him away, turning to go back inside and to your room

but he'd catch your wrist, giving you his best puppy dog expression, before mumbling an apology

and of course you accepted it, how could you not when he looked at you the way he did

you always liked to float on a raft in the pool, baking in the sun - when andrea arrived though, and after some time, he liked to hang off the raft, his head resting against your stomach

again, personal space was not something he seemed to understand

and then came the obsession with birds

one of your flatmates was a zoology student, concentrating in ornithology - the study of birds

he'd invite andrea out with him in the mornings to go bird watching and when andrea had come home, he'd be doing his best to mimic the bird calls

"y/n, listen!" he'd plead, coming into your room and nudging you back from your desk to turn your attention towards him

he'd smile proudly and close his eyes to concentrate before pursing his lips together to whistle out a tune of a bird he'd heard that day

it was adorable and even if it were bad - which sometimes they were pretty awful to listen to - you always clapped, grinning afterwards

"wow, andrea! that sounds so lovely. i'm happy to hear you are enjoying the bird watching"

he'd nod his head and smile, taking your hands in his before pulling you out of your room, still seated in your rolling chair, and into his room

"we go sometime?" he would ask as he pulled out his violin to play for you

you'd smile, nodding as you settled into your spot to listen to him perform

and when he finally began to play, he stared at you so intently that you couldn't help but blush, earning a smirk from andrea

it was one night, when he was laying in your bed beside your, flipping through one of the bird books your flatmate had given him, that you realized that maybe you liked andrea more than you realized

he was terrible with remembering to wear his glasses, but whenever he would read in your room you'd always make sure he had them on

you noticed him squinting, reading something on the page he was on, confused by the wording

"p-plumage"

you turned, looking at him, "what did you say?"

he pointed at the word, silently asking you to say it to him so he knew how to pronounce it

"oh, yeah, you were right. it's plumage"

he'd go back to reading, his nose stuffed in the pages as he continued to read

"y/n..." he'd begin, glancing at you, "do you think plumage attractive?"

it threw you off and you genuinely only asked what he said because you didn't catch him

but he didn't take it that way, he thought you were teasing him and he quickly turned back into his book, his face growing red

"andrea...what did you say?"

he was silent for a moment before glancing at you again

"i think my glasses broke" he said, trying to change the subject

you shifted to your side and took his face in your hand, turning for him to face you, looking over him and at his glasses, shaking your head

"i don't see anything, you just trying to get out of wearing them? you don't wear them and you won't be able to read your bird books or sheet music"

without thinking, you kissed his cheek, pulling back almost the same time as when you leaned in, before being the one to blush now

despite it being your room, you quickly climbed over him and excused yourself to the bathroom, leaving him to his book

he'd smile as you leave, looking down at his book once again

"you have nice plumage"

if you were they you'd probably ask what he meant by it, seeing as though you had no feathers, but he knew that and he would be too shy to tell you what he really meant, and would shrug it off like he did when you asked what he said to you in polish

but inside he knew what he meant: your plumage was the color of your eyes, how they twinkled when they caught the light - how your hair framed your face, bringing out all his favorite features

your plumage was everything about you, and to andrea you were his favorite song bird

[baebaejooheon]

Corpse husband x cottagecore! Reader headcanon

Just a cottagecore esque thing where it’s readers birthday and they throw a big meet up/sleepover thing.

Fem reader just bc. Mentions wearing a dress/skirt

A/N: uhhh leave me alone Ik I have a series in the works that I haven’t written for in months. Leave me alone 😎 not edited pls it’s rlly not good , as well as written at 6 am. Based on a maladaptive daydream I had for like a week straight. I could turn this into a real fic if anyone wants it but like ahaha I can barely write once a year 😌🤚🏻 I will probably reread it and fix it later but as of now you get what you get. I literally just typed this on my phone with no sleep so like 🤗🤪

Originally posted by datchidatchi

A little background, Y/N lives in a medium sized cottage esque house. She has a small garden in her back yard, as well as a free roam fluffy brown cow named dellie, and a big chicken coop. As well as a duck that roams the property and a couple of other animals. As well as a huge flower field a little off the premises. (All of this is infact important.)

It’s Your 23rd birthday, and for this big occasion you decided to invite over all your friends, even those who live outside of the country, to your small home in the middle of nowhere. This would be the meetup that would break the internet.

Many people were invited. The typical among us group:Jack, Felix, Rae, Sykunno, Toast, Poki, and even Corpse who was given the option even tho the likelihood was low given the situation.

A few SMP friends you had made through association were also invited: Karl, Alex, Nick etc.

Many people, lots of fun.

The morning of your birthday, You awoke to many messages and posts for your birthday. Lots of bomb selfies on the feed as well as #HAPPYBDAYY/N trending on Twitter. Along with this, you were greeted with a few texts from your non American friends stating that they arrived safely or that they were checking into the hotel rooms they had booked for the weekend.

When the time came for the party, most of the people had managed to show up. The party was in full swing, everyone had a drink in hand, posting pictures, celebrating being together as well as it being your birthday.

Filling the trending tab on Twitter with so many hashtags

Around 10 pm you got a call from corpse and decided to head upstairs to get some peace and quiet from the loud music in your living room.

Answering the phone the conversation wasn’t anything special, corpse wishing you the fourth happy birthday for that day, as well as asking how everything was going. It was a normal conversation, that was, until his breath hitched and his voice started to quiver as he grew quiet, barely mumbling. Asking what was wrong, corpse went on a small tangent about how he wished he was more confident with his looks, how he wished it wasn’t scary showing his closest friends what he looked like etc. and how he wished he could be there at the party with everyone.

“Corpse I’ve told you 100 times. I understand your situation and it’s ok that you couldn’t show up. I don’t hold it against you, but I didn’t want you to feel left out :))”

“What would you say if I said I just pulled up in an Uber and I’m absolutely terrified of what’s gonna happen?”

Sneaking out of the back door as quickly as possible and running to the front lawn preparing herself. Corpse steps out of the car and You just jump in his arms. like full on koala grip on this man.

Holding his face and just showering him with compliments. Lots of reassurance and sweet nothings.

Heading to the back porch in order to allow him to calm down and prepare. The two end up sitting outside in the dark talking for like 30 minutes.

Finally working up the courage to head inside. You hold his hand the whole time and you see his hands start to shake.

Stepping into the living room, Jack noticing corpse was there, smiling but not saying anything after realizing he’s nervous. Meeting eveyone for the first time really being hard on him. No one else knowing what he looks like so no one really has a reaction

“Look who I found”

“Oh Y/N!! We were wondering where you ran off too. Who’s your friend?”

Corpse just hits them with a “uhh, hi 🤗”

Everyone freaking out as soon as they realize who it is and trying to talk to him.

Phones were put away for most of the night in fear of leaking anything.

You going the extra step to check everyone’s camera rolls (with consent of course) just incase and deleting any photo with any form of corpes face.

A group selfie with just corpse’s hand doing a peace sign

Many drunk escapades

Everyone finding a place to crash for the night. Some staying awake on their phones, some heading to hotels, some alresdy passed out for the night.

You check in on corpse before you head to bed, knowing today was a lot for him.

“Surprisingly? One of the best nights I’ve had in awhile :))”

Heading off to bed.

6 am rolls around and ms Y/N is up at the crack of dawn to do morning chores for the small farm.

Cute hobbit esque dress. Brown skirt, off the shoulder white flowy shirt tucked in, white frilly apron, brown corset belt Etc. you know the fit

Walking down the stairs, you see corpse on his phone in the dark sitting at her dining room table. Everyone was still asleep and it seemed like corpse hadn’t even slept a wink. You know, his insomnia and all.

“What are you doing awake? It’s only 6 am and you partied pretty hard last night?”

“Farm life doesn’t stop for a hangover, but I could ask you the same thing mister :) come on you can help me out”

Corpse is 100% not dressed to do anything outside, especially not any farm work.

Tells him to wait on the back porch while she gathers some stuff from the house. coming out with a messenger bag as well as a basket and a blanket.

Sets everything down and continues to feed the animals with corpse, asking him to grab the big bucket of feed. showing him the ropes, filling up everyone’s water dishes. Collecting eggs etc.

Corpse just watching you with a smile on his face. Your just talking to all your animals, yelling at fiesty hens for pecking at your legs and/or talking to Gerald the duck for getting in the way.

Corpse lowkey obsessed with dellie the cow. Pets her and coos for like 5 minutes straight.

When they finish the sun is barely rising everything still looks like a silhouette from far enough away. putting what needs to go inside away, and then grabbing the messenger bag off the porch.

Dragging corpse to the flower field just down the hill at the edge of the property.

Laying out the blanket and sitting just talking for hours.

You plays music from your phone through a small speaker, dancing around and twirling, lost in your own world.

Corpse’s Instagram story is just full of videos and pictures of you in the sunrise, small captions like happy birthweek to the most amazing person Ik. Or damn who knew farm girl had moves.

Literally 30+ story posts at 7 am.

Corpse takes a picture of you making a flower crown. Shadows cast across your skin, the small bit of sunrise light casting a soft golden glow. The field of flowers all around. Literally goddess worthy.

Fans going crazy reposting the pictures, spamming Twitter etc.

His camera roll is FULL of pictures of her.

Giving corpse A flower crown full of an array of wild flowers

Dancing together. Just twirling and laughing.

City boy corpse loving the farm life

Secretly of course

Relaxing and just sitting with eachother as it slowly reaches 10 am.

“Uh, thanks for this morning, I had a lot of fun.” A small sleepy smile on his face. The flower crown crooked on his messy curls as he just stares into your eyes.

You both end up leaning in for a kiss bumping noses as you gently pull away

Definitely the best birthday gift you could have asked for

Heading back inside to see how everyone’s doing.

Rae being one of the few awake asking where the two of you had been seeing it was already around noon

“Those of us awake took it upon ourselves to raid your kitchen sorry not sorry”

Corpse getting sleepy wanting to take a nap seeing as it was noon and he was running on little to no sleep.

You let him rest in your bed as you occupy everyone downstairs

Everyone leaving around 3 pm, corpse is still asleep so you go outside to check on all the animals once again.

Letting Gerald in the house bc he’s being a pain in the ass.

When you come into the house you see corpse coming down the stairs rubbing his eyes and streatching. His shirt twisted and raising slightly, the jewelry and chains he was wearing now gone.

Giving him a good “morning” kiss.

The day is filled with you cooking for him. Making fun of his foil troubles, watching movies, laughing and overall joking.

Spending the rest of the night cuddling together and making the most of the time you had together.

Making things between you official

✨Extra✨

When you post about eachother to tell the fans that the two of you have been dating for like 6 months the captions are wild.

Corpse is like “ugh look at my gorgeous girlfriend, so pretty, so nice and kind, the most amazing person ever” just full on simp. The pictures he uses are from the morning after your birthday.

Your picture is just you guys holding hands. His usual chains and jewelry. Caption just “eww a city boy 🤮, gotta take all the love I can get tho”

[toplinetommy]

Four Times You Ask Travis to Fill In + The One Time He Asks You

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: language, a guy being a dick in the first part

a/n: literally got inspo from this out of nowhere and sat down to write it after a two 8 hour work days, pls dont hesitate to give me feedback!

one

“You want a refill?” Travis asks you as he sees you stirring your straw in your now empty glass. 

“Yes, please!” You answer, smile on your face.

“The usual?” He double checks, regarding the light yellow liquid that was previously in your cup. You nod your head yes and he walks away through the crowd towards the bar.

As you wait, you pull out your phone to check your Snapchat as you lean against the wall where your small group was formed. 

As you switch to texting your roommate back, you feel a much larger presence that couldn’t possibly be Travis. You offer the large stranger a soft smile as you turn your full attention back to your phone. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” The man asks, making you turn to him to fully take his appearance in.

You roll your eyes as you look at him, clearly not knowing him and clearly figuring out that the statement was just a line. “I don’t think so.”

“You sure? I feel like we’ve had to have met before. I’d remember someone as pretty as you,” The guy smirks, taking a step closer to you.

You roll your eyes once more at the comment before turning your attention towards the bar across the room. The dim lighting of the bar combined with the overcrowding made it difficult for you to find your best friend. 

“And I think I’d remember a guy that used that lame of a pick-up line.” You clap back, a tight lipped smile falling on your face once you’re done speaking. You go back to your phone, trying your best to get the guy to take the hint that you’re not interested. Instead, he doesn’t, and he begins speaking yet again.

“You’re sassy, I like that.” He says, his gaze moving from your eyes down the rest of your body. The path of his gaze is painfully obvious to you as you try not to gag at both his actions and his attempts at flirting. He moves his hand to place it on his waist and the second you feel it, you’re shoving him off of you.

You turn your body once again to see if any of your friends notice the situation you’re in. All of them are either in their own worlds or out on the dancefloor, so you start looking for Travis who you still can’t find in the large crowd. 

However, the shove doesn't stop him as he moves towards you again, closer than he was before. He starts to crowd you closer to the wall before a warm hand grabs you and Travis is suddenly between you and the stranger.

“Aye, you better not be hitting on my girl.” He interrupts, linking your fingers with his and fully placing his body in front of yours, blocking you from the much taller man. 

“You better keep your girl in check then, man, she was all over me.” The stranger counters, puffing his chest trying to intimidate Travis.

“My girl wasn’t flirting with you. She can do whatever she wants anyways.” He shrugs, puffing out his smaller, but still broad chest. The stranger finally takes the hint and walks away, making sure to shove Travis as he turns.

“Thank you for that. I barely even talked to him but he wouldn’t leave me alone.” You thank Travis, once he turns back towards you. He hands you your drink before pulling your head into your chest, rubbing the back of your head in comfort.

“You’re okay,” He assures you, pulling away to look at your facial expression.

two

“Hey, you know that Luke Combs concert I bought tickets to, like, months ago?” You ask Travis, sitting down at his island as he moves towards the fridge to get a bottle of water out. He shuts the fridge before turning around and leaning against it. “Yeah? You’re supposed to go with Rilee, right?”

“That’s the thing,” You start. “She was supposed to go with me but I guess her boyfriend is having surgery so she has to be there for that.” 

Travis takes a gulp of his water as he listens closely to your predicament. “So what are you gonna do?” He swallows.

“Well,” you start, the pitch in your voice higher than normal. It’s the same voice you use with him everytime you ask him for a favor and you can tell he knows as he dramatically sets his water bottle down on the counter and throws his baseball hat covered head back. “I was thinking you could come instead. I already checked your game schedule and you don’t have a game and you’ll be in town!” You exclaim. 

Travis just looks at you silently as you speak. Your body is leaning over the island you’re sitting at, trying to get more of his attention and trying to make him understand how big of a deal it is to you.

“You know how much I love him! Please!” You beg further.

“What day is it exactly? I’ll make sure to clear my schedule.” Travis agrees, pulling his phone out of his pocket to double check his calendar. A squeak leaves your mouth and you jump out of your seat, running to him to give him a hug. You kiss his cheek loudly, leaving a wet spot on his cheek and mutter another thank you.

“Yuck.” Travis groans, wiping the slightly wet spot off of his cheek, a smile still covering his face contradicting his verbal discomfort of your actions. 

Pulling away from him, you move a step back opening the fridge to grab a drink for yourself. “You love country music, you can’t not have fun.” You argue, as you close the fridge, staring him down as you do so.

three

Thanksgiving was just right around the corner, which in Philadelphia meant the full effects of Fall were coming out. The streets were littered with orange leaves, pumpkin spice lattes were at all of your favorite coffee shops, and football and hockey was back in full force. 

It also meant the dreaded yearly company dinner your office had around this time. You were one of the younger people working at your office, which meant you didn’t fully immerse yourself into the office culture, and instead only talked to people directly in the same department.

“So, it’s almost American Thanksgiving.” Travis remarks, looking at you writing things down on the calendar that’s stuck to your refrigerator. 

You turn to your friend, hand still writing, “do you know what you’re doing yet?” 

“We have games the day before and the day after, so I’ll probably just go to Haysie’s place since you’re going home.” He shrugs.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. What sounds bad is my drive home and seeing people I haven’t seen in forever asking me the same million questions.” You say, capping your pen and placing it on the countertop next to you. “I also have a company dinner the weekend before, which really doesn’t sound fun.”

“Why?” Travis laughs. He knows you love your job so he’s confused as to why you don’t think you’ll have a fun time. 

“For starters, the company is way larger than you think it is so it’ll be a fuck ton of people. Secondly, I only talk to the people in my department and everyone is significantly older than me.” You explain.

“Do you have to go?” He further questions.

“I don’t think so, but they’ll know if I’m not there.” You shrug, “Think of it like all those dinners you have to do with the Flyers. You could not show up but it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Ahh, I see, okay, yeah, and if it’s anything like mine, it seems like they’ll be stuffy.”

“Exactly.” you point, moving to sit next to him at the kitchen table. “And, I’m pretty sure all of the people I’m friends with are bringing their significant others.” 

He nods his head at your complaints, thinking of positives to bring up about why the dinner will in fact be fun.

“Unless,” You start, dragging out the end of the word which fully grabs Travis’ attention as he sets his beer down to the table. “Do you want to come with? You can be my entertainment for the night!” You suggest, hint of begging in your tone. 

Travis stares at your suggestion dumb-founded, “What.” The stiff tone in his voice makes it seem like he’s not even asking a question, and is instead stating a fact. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What do you mean? It’s a perfect idea!” You clap your hands together before they start moving frantically as you continue to ramble. “You already have a suit, you probably won’t have a game, you’re already used to talking to those fancy people!”

“You should bond with the people you work with.” Travis counters.

“I can still do that if you’re there.” You state, putting on your best puppy dog eyes. 

You stare him down and you can see him start to crack before he responds, “Fine, but if more than five people ask me about what being an NHLer is like, I’m ditching you.”

four

A loud groan leaves your mouth as you walk back into your apartment, a stack of mail in your hands and a confused Travis sitting on your couch. He looks up from his phone with knitted eyebrows, silently asking you what the groan was for.

You set the stack of mail down on the table by your front door before tossing him a pristine white envelope with neat, black handwriting on the outside. “Who’s Emma?” He asks, handing the mail back to you. 

You begin opening the envelope as you speak. “You know that one girl in my sorority that I would constantly complain about?” He nods his head, urging you to go on. “I saw a while ago that she got engaged on Instagram and I guess she’s inviting me to the wedding.”

“Literally who gets married in the winter anyways?!” You groan dramatically, setting your full weight into the couch next to your friend. 

Travis laughs next to you at your dramatic body movement before he turns to you.”So?” He asks, somewhat confused at your groaning. 

“Why would you want to get married in Philly when it’s below freezing? Like who wants to do that!” You complain.

“You know you just don't have to go?” Travis suggests with raised eyebrows. Another groan passes your lips at your oblivious friend.

“I can’t just not go! She was my roommate when I lived in the sorority house.” You state in a straightforward tone. 

“When is it?” Travis questions further.

You toss him the formal invitation, “Early December.” 

He reads over the invitation before looking up to you to hand it back to you. As he reaches his hand to hand it over, a light bulb goes off in your head.

“Oh no.” Travis starts.

“You can come with!” You suggest excitedly.

“No, you don’t need an NHL player crashing your friend’s wedding.” He argues.

“Oh yes, I do.” You argue back, voice stern. The two of you stare one another down for what feels like minutes before Travis finally caves and agrees to go with you.

--

“See what I mean?” You start turning to look at Travis. “It’s fucking freezing why whould you want to get married in this? There’s literally snow on the ground.” You complain, gesturing to the inches of snow surrounding the sidewalks as you walk from the ceremony to the reception.

Travis wraps his arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm to try and give you some sort of warmth. It isn’t as successful as you want it to be, but you appreciate the gesture as you lean into his warmer side.

“It’s not fair though, you get to wear an overcoat and still look nice. If I put on my winter coat I would like a marshmallow.” You scoff, causing loud laughter to erupt from Travis.

“You know damn well you wouldn’t look like a marshmallow.” He starts in between fits of laughter. “And, besides, your sexy legs would take away from your marshmallow-ness.” He jokes poking at the bottom of your thigh where you dress ended and the bareness of your legs started.

A light blush comes to your cheeks and your stomach tightens as you scoff at his comment and push him away jokingly.

You guys walk the rest of the short distance to the reception in quiet chills before finally finding your seats. You had to admit the wedding so far had been beautiful, even if you had a slight distaste for the bride herself.

You’re still sat after the both of you finish your meals, the both of you taking a break before joining the dancefloor again. 

“Not too bad, eh?” Travis questions you. His arm is resting comfortably over the back of your chair not quite directly landing over your shoulders. You turn your attention from the large mass on the dancefloor to Travis before answering, “Yeah, better than I thought it would be. I’ve gotten to see a lot of people from college I haven’t seen in a while.” A good chunk of your sorority sisters had also been in attendance as well as a few other people you recognized as Emma’s close friends.

He nods his head slightly before you ask him if he too is enjoying his evening. “Of course, it’s an excuse to hang with you and get you to dance without begging.” He remarks. “Speaking of, I think it’s time to go out-dance everyone out there.” He stands up, offering his hand for you to grab. You take a hold of his hand as you stand up and follow him to the middle of the room where the dancefloor was located.

The two of you dance for a while, and by two of you, it’s Travis dancing like an idiot while you kind of just bounce and sing to the songs. A slower song comes on and you turn away from Travis, intending to make your way back to your seats. Instead, Travis stops you, pulling your body flush against his as he rests his hands on the small of your back. “Not so fast there, killer,” He smiles, looking down at your face. 

You slowly move your hands to his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair with one hand. “You should really get a haircut soon.” You chirp, knowing all too well he won’t cut it just because you told him to. He playfully rolls his eyes at your joke and lets the two of you dance to the song in silence. 

As the song ends you begin to slightly pull away from him. “Thanks for filling in as my date today, Travis. I know you get your fair share of weddings in the offseason.”

“You know I don’t mind, y/n” He replies as the music completely cuts out before the next one starts.

You leave a soft kiss on his cheek before you’re pulled away by a few of your friends you haven’t been able to say hi to yet.

plus one

Your phone starts to ring, pulling your attention from your computer. Picking it up you see Travis’ face covering the screen so you answer it.

“Y/n!” He cheers loudly into the phone, causing you to erupt in a giggle. “Have you checked Instagram in like the past five minutes?”

“No?” You answer, infliction in your voice. You move your phone away from your ear, putting it on speaker before opening the Instagram app. “I’ve been pretty busy at work today.” 

“Well, look!” He says, just as loudly. You scroll on your feed, trying to find what Travis is silently asking you to look for. You still don’t know what he’s talking about and you open your mouth to ask him and that’s when you see it.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim, liking the post by the Philadelphia Flyers. You read the caption a few more times as the news settles in. “You’re an all star!”

“I’m an all star, baby!” He repeats back to you. Your smile widens even more hearing the excitement in your best friend’s voice. “Chuck pulled me aside before practice this morning.” He explains. 

“Congratulations Teeks,” You compliment. “I’m really proud of you. You’ve been working your ass off all season for something like this.” 

“Thank you, y/n, means a lot.” He starts, a softness in his tone replacing his previous excitement. “I’ll let you get back to work, though.” He finishes.

“Want to celebrate after your game?” You suggest. “I can come over and bring some food?” 

“Sounds perfect. See ya later.”

“Good luck tonight! I’ll talk to you soon.” You conclude, hanging up.

--

You knock on Travis’ front door before opening it and letting yourself in, announcing your presence. You go to set the bag of take out and the bottle of wine you brought over for the occasion onto his island before you see him emerge from his bedroom hallway.

Once you see him you smile and run over to him, tackling him in a hug. “Congratulations!” You shriek with glee. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck as he wraps his tightly around your torso, slightly lifting your body off the ground.

“Thank you!” He cheers once he pulls away from you.

“I brought Five Guys and some wine to celebrate,” You start, leading him back towards his kitchen island. “I thought you could ditch your diet for one night.”

Your joke causes Travis to let out a chuckle as he closely examines the bottle of wine you brought. Instead of opening it or even pulling out the to-go containers from the bag, he leans against the island turning to look at you.

There’s an unreadable softness in his eyes which has you confused. Not only did he find out that he was going to be an NHL all-star at such a young age, the Flyers had also won their game that night, so he should at least be filled with glee.

“What’s up?” You ponder from across the spacious kitchen.

“Just thinking about everything I guess, everything it took to get here.” The sudden turn from Travis’ normal cheerfulness to openly talking about his emotions has you even more confused. He looks into your eyes from where he stands and holds out his arms, leaning towards you to pull you closer.

“Like, you’ve been here when we were dog shit - when I was dog shit, and now you’re here.” He starts. He’s holding both your hands now, lightly rubbing his thumbs on the back of them. He looks down at your joined hands before continuing. “Like, I feel like I’m in a dream, like how the hell am I an all-star?”

“Because you’re an amazing hockey player Travis, and the league knows that.” You comfort him, taking a step closer to him. It feels as if the air around is lighter as you look into his eyes and feel his body closer to yours than it normally is.

He stays quiet a little while longer, glancing at your mouth every so often. “I was thinking today, you should come with me to St. Louis, eh?” He suggests, pulling your body so that your thighs are touching his. His rough hands disconnect from your hands, as he places one on your waist and the other on the junction of your jaw.

Your mouth slightly drops open at his suggestion, “Don’t families just go? And like girlfriends?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I’m getting around to asking you.” He whispers, head leaning in towards yours. His mouth is millimeters away from yours, and you’re sure he can feel your deep breathing on his face. “I kinda like, really like you.”

“So, you’re asking me out then?” You question, your hands moving to the back of his neck where his longer hair rests.

“I mean, I kinda thought all those times you asked me to go to those things where dates,” He shrugs, his nose brushing against yours. “I was hoping we could skip that part and you could just be my girlfriend, yeah?” 

Your eyes momentarily move from his, down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes before you respond in a whisper, “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes for Travis to close the small gap between the two of you as his mouth moves against yours softly.

[quokkacore]

LIBERALITY: starshine [oh sehun] (m)

part II of all your gods are fake

summary: sehun gives you what he can, but it’s never easy. you have to work for it as well, but effort pays off, and he rewards you so kindly.

pairing: freedomfighter!sehun x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, light horror towards the end?

warnings: language, descriptions of war, descriptions of cults, mentions of violence, shibari, thigh riding, handjobs, reader has nipple piercings, sensory deprivation (blindfolds and ties), seizures, knives

song rec: rosalia & ozuna - yo x ti, tu x mi ♡ taemin - never forever

word count: 4.3k

a/n: this was originally posted to my old writing blog on may 9th, 2020. if you would like to be on the taglist, pls send me an ask or a message! <3 

masterlist

He was getting agitated. You could tell this much.  

It was already bad enough that the meeting so far had lasted for over an hour and a half, but now the tension of the situation was finally settling in, as everyone realized that it was finally here.

The last stronghold. Or so they believed. Or so he believed.

The meeting was only for the highest ranking officials of the resistance, people who The Brotherhood knew they could trust—the plan was far too important to risk it falling into the hands of The Sect of Seven at the hands of double agents.

The plan that, if executed correctly, could turn the tides and cause the downfall of the Sect.

You watched, leaning against the wall as Junmyeon, leader of The Brotherhood and face of the resistance towered over the war table, talking about possible strategies to take the last major neutral city and also take control of the country.

The Sect of Seven had existed for years before the war began—its existence spanned across centuries, millenia, even; dating back to the year The Prophecy of Brothers Alike was first proclaimed in the late twelfth century, and remained strong even almost a whole century after The Great Collapse of 2050, when global society had collapsed due to war, famine and climate disasters.

Then the war broke out, some ten years ago, when the first two brothers of the Fated Fourteen first made themselves known, springing the Sect’s violent plans into action.

Since then, the resistance had been built up by The Brotherhood’s efforts, both capturing strategic cities and territories across North America. The Sect was based in the desert, with the Sanctuary based in what was once Los Angeles, their control spanning across what was western Mexico, the american south, and half of the northwest.

The resistance was based higher north, in the Citadel, which used to be Chicago, territories consisting of parts of southern Canada, the rockies, the northern midwest and what remained of the Peninsula of Yucatan. Places like Greenland, the southern east coast and northern canadian territories had either been destroyed during the collapse or had since been reclaimed by extreme climate and nature.

The only major territory that remained uncaptured by either sides, the place where many had fled to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, was the northern west coast, and that was controlled by Washington DC.

The very spot the resistance was now planning to take.

Your eyes floated up towards Sehun, who was standing right next to Junmyeon, who was now listening to Chanyeol and Baekhyun discuss the logistics of a peaceful invasion.

“Overall, I think we still need time to form a solid strategy,” Baekhyun said, “Jongdae needs to get in contact with The Agate Sisters for some more weapons—”

“Which is not very easy, might I add—” Jongdae interjected.

“And even before that…” Junmyeon’s voice was loud, taking command of the situation, “Sehun.”

All eyes in the room fell to the youngest member of The Brotherhood.

Oh Sehun. The Oracle.

Sehun had become known to the world two years after Suho and Junmyeon were proclaimed the first two brothers of the prophecy, the same time as his twin brother. Being so young, his ability of both interpreting and creating prophecies was a sight to behold, both terrifying and morbidly fascinating.

You’d known him since he and his brother were children, before the three of you realized what the future held in store—pain and suffering for Sehun and you, and nothing but pleasure and debauchery for Sehün.

“Do you think you could consult with the spirits for a minor prophecy? Or any other interpretations of the prophecy?”

Sehun shifted in his stance, leaning back and forth. “I need time.” His voice was firm and gravelly as he crossed his arms, immersed in thought. “My most recent auguries have revealed to me that DC is the last stronghold that the prophecy is talking about. But I can’t be a hundred percent sure. Prophecies love to play mind games. We all know that.”  

“Is there anything we have to be wary of when it comes to the prophecy? Double entendres, stuff like that?” Yixing asked, even though everyone in the room had heard the god-forsaken prophecy more than enough times throughout the past few years.

Sehun sighed, but closed his eyes and nodded anyway. A dramatic tension settled over the room, and Sehun began to speak.

“Cometh a day when seven sets of twins, be opposite ends of both virtue and sin—why am I going over this again, we all know this,” He huffed.

“Please just continue,” Baekhyun mumbled.

“Ugh, fine. Bearing eyes of blue and eyes of brown, cometh to tear the last stronghold down—” Sehun rolled his eyes, frustration evident in his expression. “The term stronghold has always been somewhat questionable. The prophecy was first declared in 1176, right? Early Modern English wouldn’t become a thing for another three hundred years, so most of this stems from Middle English. Some interpret stronghold as fort, or base, or holy land…”

Jongdae raised his hand before speaking, eyes flashing in alarm as he interrupted Sehun’s tangent. “Wait, wait, if others have translated it as holy land, then—”

“The Sanctuary.”

Junmyeon’s voice was quiet, but still commanded a heavy presence across the room, as a profound silence spread across the space.

“That means that the final battle could be in Los Angeles, on their turf. That would put us at a major disadvantage. We’re already at a major disadvantage.” The leader’s eyebrows were furrowed, using both hands to lean on the table as he made the connection.

The dread that followed was thick and suffocating, and you took the opportunity to speak up, wishing to rid the room of the anxiety gathering.

“But think about the implications of fighting the final battle in The Sanctuary. It would have to mean that we’ve managed to push them back sufficiently to the point where we feel confident invading their home base. Which we wouldn’t do unless we knew that we had a high possibility of winning.”

All eyes fell to you, and you crossed your arms, before meeting Sehun’s gaze. The look in his eyes was something akin to gratitude, being able to lift the sudden darkness. You lifted your hand to gesture back at Sehun. “Continue.”

He nodded, gaze stern. “Perhaps lovers lost to a most wicked brother, bringeth vengeance and hellfire upon one another… Loss could mean one of two things. Betrayal or death. But the rest of those two lines imply that the side that does the taking will suffer because of what they’ve done. That means that for now, none of us lay hands on any of the Sanctuary Queens, and those of us who have them, keep our partners close… Beware ye who heed this, for I warn thee now: suffer shall those who carelessly bow.”

“It has to be them,” A girl, Sasha, declared, “They’ve been lying to their followers for years—”

“That could mean anything. You know that.” Sehun’s voice was rough, eyes trained on the map that had been carved into the table.

A silence hung over the room, tension palpable as everyone remembered what the stakes were. These were lives and people’s free wills on the line, indescribable anguish promised by a prophecy written centuries ago to people who didn’t truly know their leaders. The end was near, but the outcome was nowhere near foreseeable.

“I’ll… I’ll try and do some more smoke readings.” It struck you how tired he sounded, watching as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Maybe I’ll ask the spirit of the Oracle for a specific prophecy on DC. For now, we just have to be cautious. Watch for any suspicious activity here in the citadel and listen to intelligence reports. Jongin, you’ve got your moles at the Sanctuary, right?”

Jongin nodded, gaze dark. “Yeah. I’m meeting with Ren in two weeks. She’s the best of the best. I’ll see what she has for us.”

Junmyeon straightened his posture, everyone quieting when he opened his mouth to speak.

“I think that’s enough worrying about that for today,” He declared, sounding grim, “Before we go, you all know that not a single word is to leave this room. This is highly classified information. Meeting adjourned.”

You watched everyone file out of the room, hoping to speak to Sehun, yet somehow didn’t catch when he left. You got the feeling that that was what he intended.

So you left too, resolving to see him that night.

—

Sehun’s room was easy to find, seeing as how it was right across the hall from yours, in the large apartment building the heads of the resistance had settled into. You knocked on his door, sighing when you didn’t hear any response. You tried one more time, then another time, finally a third time, before letting your head fall frustratedly against the wood of the door.

“Hun, I know you’re in there… please let me in.”

You heard muffled sounds of shuffling from behind the door, pulling your head away to lean it against the doorframe. Waiting, you strained your ears for a noise, hearing the occasional sound.

Eventually, you heard the telltale sound of heavy footsteps being dragged across the floor. You pursed your lips, waiting for the door to open, wondering what you would see when it did.

The door swung open slowly, and you were met with a tall figure, hunched over as he peered down at you. The exhaustion in his gaze was palpable, and you felt your heart clench in sympathy.

Sehun was 25 now. He was made known to the public some nine years ago, and on top of it all, he was the Oracle. Interpretations of any and all prophecies were up to him, a sixteen year old boy who had just discovered he was destined to spend the rest of his life fighting against his own brother, something that tore his family apart.

He was a child.

And now, here he stood, looking too worn, too hopeless for someone so young. His eyes had seen horrors he was much too young to see. Life had eaten away at the glow he’d had when you were both younger. The dark circles underneath his eyes were so pronounced, you’d think he hadn’t slept since he was a baby. His short, dark hair was greasy. You wondered if he’d been taking care of himself properly.

“Do you need anything?” His voice was raspy, quiet. You looked at him, brown eyes met yours. Your heart clenched. Here he was, mentally exhausted, and the first thing he said to you wasn’t a hello, but rather, asking quietly if you needed anything.

“Can I come inside?” You asked sheepishly, and he blinked for a second, before nodding, opening the door more for you to pass. “Go ahead.”

You stepped past him, into the hallway of his small apartment. The smell of incense invaded your nose, and you frowned. He closed the door, and crossed his arms. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“Are you okay? You looked so tired today, you look tired now.”

“I’m fine—"

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You refused to let him keep it all to himself. “Sehun…”

He leaned against the wall, head bowed, and you mirrored his stance, standing against the wall as well, but you didn’t look away. “Y/N, I can’t deal with that right now. People need me.”

“Sehun, you can’t force yourself like this, you’ve told me that yourself—"

“I have to make this work. I can’t fail like last time, not if DC is what we think it is.”

You sighed, taking a step forward, resting a hand on his arm. He glanced at it briefly, then raised his head to look at you. You said nothing, but guided him to sit down on the couch, and you sat next to him.

“Sehun,” You said, voice quiet, “DC is nothing but puppets right now pretending they’re actually doing anything. We have our puppets, the sect have theirs. You can’t be sure that a place like that is what determines whether we’re doomed or not. You said it yourself, there are so many possibilities that DC isn’t the place we’re thinking about.”

He took a few deep breaths, nodding to your words before rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. He looked strained, and you moved to sit closer to him.

“Everything is so fucked up,” Sehun whispered, and you nodded in agreement. “I feel like everything is out of control. Like I can’t do anything about it. Meanwhile, Sehün—"

“Sehün has people who think he’s a god obeying his every whim, just like the rest of those—those idiots.“ Your voice was quiet, but firm, refusing to allow him to compare himself to his brother, "The only reason they look so polished and seem to have everything under control is they only leave the Sanctuary when they absolutely need to, to save face. They feel like they’re above everyone else.”

You took Sehun’s hand, carefully removing his worn, black glove before cradling it in your smaller hand, as if it were incredibly fragile. His eyes met yours, and you gave him a sad smile.

“The Brotherhood, on the other hand… You only use that title for formality’s sake. Yes, you’re all the leaders, but you see yourselves as equal to the rest of us. All of you are out there with us, on the front lines. You’re tired because you give everything you have to serve this cause, my love. You feel that everything is out of control because… well, it is. Lady Fate is a tricky one, we all know that. But you feel it even more because you’re dealing with it head on, not from some sparkly throne on a golden pedestal.”

Sehun’s eyes glittered with several emotions you couldn’t pinpoint, but you could see fondness in them. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Starshine,” He mumbled into your hair, before resting his chin on the crown of your head, “Where would I be without you.”

You hummed, before allowing your eyes to flutter shut, and the two of you sat in silence for what seemed like hours. You reflected back to when you and Sehun both realized your feelings for one another, after a devastating battle in Salt Lake City where Sehun had given his brother the now infamous scar running down the left side of his face, some six years ago. He’d come so close to dying that day, and you’d realized just how important he was to you.

You’d been joined by the hip since you were children, and when the revelation came that he and Sehün were the brothers of liberality and greed respectively, you didn’t hesitate in taking his side, vowing to follow him until the bitter end.

It all made sense to you when you came to Sehun’s sickbed, seeing him resting and bloodied, that you’d actually been in love with the boy for a long time, perhaps ever since you’d first met him. You wouldn’t ever be able to live without him, and apparently, he felt the same way.

In this moral crisis, you were his anchor, his tether to the corporeal plane when his world was on an ethereal one.

Upon all the doubts that everyone had, as to whether the Fated Fourteen were truly gods or if they were simply men with delusions of grandeur chosen by Lady Fate for her cruel entertainment, he felt that you were what reminded him that he was human, that past gods were never truly capable of love or real emotion.

To be capable of loving you was a humbling experience, one that he treasured dearly, especially in moments like this.

“Do you remember what we did the last time you felt like you had no control?” Your voice was a whisper, full of promise and anticipation, as the hand that wasn’t holding his own came to ghost over his thigh. Sehun’s breath hitched, recalling the experience. Roughness against soft, supple skin, restraint and control, you giving yourself entirely to him before he gave himself entirely to you.

“What exactly are you proposing?” He murmured, and you exhaled as one would when they found something amusing, the ghost of a laugh. “You know what I’m proposing, Sehun. Don’t act as if I haven’t seen you teaching Chanyeol to tie his knots when he’s getting ready to go out on a field mission.”

His hand tugged yours towards him, and you moved as he sat back, resting his back against the couch as he helped you straddle his waist. You faced him, realizing with a giggle that he’d turned slightly pink at your accusation.

“Do me a favor,” He said, and you nodded, letting your free hand rest on his shoulder. “Never talk about Chanyeol when you’re trying to get me into bed again. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on… Chanyeol, however, is the most unsexy person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Your head tipped back with laughter, and he joined in with you. Your heart, upon hearing this, skipped a beat. You had a hard time recalling when the last he’d laughed was. “I think Sasha would disagree.”

“Yeah, but Sasha isn’t here now, is she? It’s just you and me.” He leaned forward, trapping your waist with his hands and letting his face come close to yours. You watched his eyes flutter down to watch your lips, inches away from yours. You gulped when his lips parted, his tongue peeking out to lick the pink skin.

“So you want me to tie you up. Take control.”

Your hands wrapped around his neck, and you smiled. “Only if you want to tie me up. I want you to have at least one thing you feel you can control.”

Sehun licked his lips again, sighing in amusement as he considered the idea. “Y’know, a few weeks ago, some of the field officers came in with a bunch of fabric they managed to smuggle out of LA…” His tone was quiet, and his hands began trailing downwards, pulling you against him, voice filling you with anticipation. Comfortable fabric was so difficult to come by these days, given that the Sect had taken what were once lavish city districts.

You gasped slightly when your core came into contact with his lap, feeling he was already starting to get hard, and felt your face heat up.  

“I might’ve bought a silk tie or two off of ‘em,” He told you, eyes burning holes into your skin, “Wanted to see what my starshine would look like in pink.”

Your felt your hands tighten of their own volition against the fabric of his black t-shirt, your mind conjuring the mental image. “Fuck, Sehun. W-where’s the jute?”

He flashed a lopsided grin, and you felt the need to smack the smug look off of his face. How he could go from being so serious to this, was beyond you. You personally didn’t believe that The Brotherhood and The Lords of the Sect were gods, but Sehun’s duality, in situations like this, seemed to be supernatural at times, if you dared say so yourself.

He pressed his lips to yours briefly, before lightly nudging you to get off of his lap. “I’ll go get it, baby. Give me a second.”

He stood, catching his breath briefly, before walking down the hall, towards his closet. The hallway was slightly darker, and you stood, striding over to him as he pulled out the rope. He turned to face you, and he quickly cornered you against the wall.

“Shirt off. Bra, too.”

You grinned. “What are you gonna do this time?”

You could vaguely make out his features, but you knew his face was probably twisted up in smug satisfaction. Regardless, you obeyed silently, your chest rising and falling quickly with anticipation.

“Chest harness, for now,” He quipped, “Is that okay?”

You nodded, not breaking eye contact with him as you undressed yourself. You wanted him to realize that you weren’t backing down.

He seemed to read you perfectly, nodding in response to your answer as he watched you pull off the dark fabric, before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Even in the dim light of the corridor, you could see how his eyebrows raised and the way his lips parted slightly, lazy gaze falling down to your breasts. You knew what he was gawking at.

The studs embedded in your nipples were a dark stainless steel, glittering, alluring. You’d gotten them on a whim at nineteen from some clandestine tattoo artist on the way back from a field operation. He’d always had a bit of a fascination with them, the way they seemed to twinkle at him underneath the light.

"You gonna stare at me all night or will I have to tie myself up?”

Your playful jab snapped him out of his reverie, and he straightened his posture a few seconds later. “Go stand in front of the bed.” His voice was soft, but still commanding.

You stalked into the dark bedroom, standing in front of where you made the bed out to be. He followed you, before standing behind you. “Are you going to tie my hands up, too?"

"Not yet, starshine,” He declared quietly, into your left ear. You could tell he was untangling the jute, and you pursed your lips in anticipation. “You want to know what I’m about to do to you?”

“You know I do,” You whispered, a confession just for him, before lifting your arms and your hair for him to work.

“Too bad,” He sighed, ”Because I’m not telling you.”

You huffed, but didnt protest.

His arms began to wrap the rope below your ribcage, tightening the jute to the point where you could feel it digging into your skin, but enough to complicate your breathing. Taut, but not torturous. You closed your eyes, sighing quietly as he looped the jute higher up this time, just between your breasts and your collarbones, wrapping back to where he began, in the middle of your back.

The sensation of the rough fibers against your skin was by no means comfortable. It was scratchy and some stray fibers tickled at your chest. But its presence against your skin, the implications of its position and what was to come, was most definitely comforting. Intimacy with Sehun now was rare, you rarely even slept next to each other. But you knew that it wasn’t because of a strain in your relationship.

Sehun had always needed peace of mind and silence when it came to auguries and prophecy readings. Now, with the war coming so close to what seemed to be the end, he needed it more than ever, and the moments you shared with him came to a pause. You didn’t complain—the cause came before your emotions, now and always. But inside you were crying out for him; in concern, in longing, in yearning.

So maybe that’s why when he paused his ministrations and chuckled, tracing a finger down his spine, you whimpered quietly, thighs rubbing together in anticipation. “You have goosebumps,” He said, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“It’s been a while,” You answered, and he hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to your nape. You sighed at the sensation.

“Drop your arms, and turn around to look at me,” Sehun whispered a few seconds later, and with some help from him to maneuver through the rope he was still trying to tie around you, you were able to complete his request.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His voice was throaty, eyes scanning your body as you did the same, eyes landing on the growing bulge in his pants.

“Sehun, please just hurry.”

He shook his head, crooked smile still gracing his face. His hands worked quickly, looping the jute underneath the lowest rope, between your breasts.

“It’s not too tight, is it?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“It’s fine. Not too tight, not too loose.”

He nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Okay. Let me know if it becomes too much at any point.”

“I know, Hun.”

Sehun’s dark eyes lifted their gaze from where his hands were working to meet your own, not saying anything. By now, the smile had faded, replaced by a stern look of concentration.

Be still, my heart, you thought, he is so beautiful.

“What?” You whispered, and he blinked.

His response was soft, gentle. “I would fucking die for you.”

You felt your face grow warm, and you lowered your gaze. “Sehun,” You murmured, “I—”

“Sh, sh,” He answered, continuing to tie the rope, “Listen to me, starshine. You’re it for me. There’s never been anyone else. A-and if anything happens, Lady Fate forbid it… There’ll never be anyone else.”

He finished his words as he tied off the final knot, and silently, you stood there, eyes shut as you pressed your forehead to his. For how long, you weren’t sure. Seconds, minutes, eons… Maybe no time had passed at all. You didn’t really care. Moments like these were never long enough, they always ended too soon. Sehun was your elixir of life, your lifeline, and in these moments, you felt immortal, invincible, powerful.

To be able to bring such a man like him to his knees, to be so ready to put himself on the line for you; you were sure it would be your ruin.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around Sehun’s neck, and he caught you as you pressed your lips to his in a blazing kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You whined into the kiss, the dark cotton of his t-shirt pressing against your sensitive nipples and their piercings.

“Sehun,” You moaned into the kiss, reaching down to tug at the hem of his shirt. “N-not fair, take it off.”

He hummed, pulling away to comply with your protests, revealing toned skin and the broad shoulders you so adored.

“Is it fair now?” He asked, grabbing your upper arms to pull you closer and press kisses to your collarbones and along your sternum. “I should tie your hands now, maybe then you’ll learn you’re not allowed to touch without my permission.”

“Shut up,” You said, ignoring his declaration as he pushed you onto the bed. You peered up at his broad form, towering over you in the darkness, almost trembling in anticipation, waiting for him to put his hands on you, to make a move.

A few moments later, he finally did, reaching down to pull your pants off, as well as your underwear. He pressed soft kisses to your stomach as he did. When both garments were finally tossed aside, he lifted himself up onto the bed, lips trailing up across your skin. His eyes met yours as he gazed up at you, through you, before pressing his lips to one of your breasts, your sensitive nipples hardening at the contact of his warm mouth against the cool steel embedded in it.

Your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, unable to keep eye contact with your lover. One of your hands came up to comb through his dark hair, whimpering as he alternated between your nipples.

“Sehun, mmph, baby…” You murmured, coming back to look at him when he let go and came back to kiss at your jawline.

“Up, starshine,” He ordered, leaving no room for protest, arms wrapping around your waist and hauling you up to sit on his lap. As you squirmed to get comfortable in his grip, one of his hands reached for his nightstand’s drawer, and he pulled out two pastel pink silk ties. Your heart leaped towards your throat in excitement when you registered what these were, hips subconsciously searching for friction against his.

“Sit still,” He huffed as he closed the drawer, before straightening his posture, dwarfing you even sitting beneath you.

Wordlessly, he brought the tie up to your eyes, covering them before tying it at the back of your head with one tie, quickly doing the same to your hands with the other, tying them tightly in front of you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” He mumbled, hands raking from your hair to down your back.

His hands came to grasp at your thighs, propping them so they rested only atop one of his. You felt your core clench at what he was alluding to, inhaling sharply.

“Move your hips, baby,” He said, and you couldn’t bring it in you to deny him.

Another thing you couldn’t do was speak, you found, as you prayed you could maintain your balance and began to slowly rock your hips against the rough fabric of his dark pants and his toned thigh, your bare pussy rubbing listlessly against the coarse fabric. You didn’t mind however, perfectly content to let him speak, murmuring strange hybrids of dirty and sweet things in your ear.

The hot pleasure between your legs seemed to double at the restriction in your ribs and not being able to see or anticipate where his hands or mouth were. You buried your head into the crook of Sehun’s neck, peppering wet, opened kisses against his collarbones, your nails digging into your palms with a vengeance in hopes of anchoring yourself to something.

The movements of your hips soon became capricious, rhythmless, your whimpers becoming louder and louder as he switched between flexing his thigh and bouncing it like a restless child. In the darkness of the silk tie, you could feel the callousness of his fingertips as they dug into your hips, a guided meditation through your pleasure.

The room reeked of incense and sex, you realized as you attempted to delay your slowly building release by focusing on different things. Smells, sounds, and finally, Sehun.

This was the Sehun you loved most, the one you cherished most in your heart. The Sehun that was so willing to give, give, and give, but not to the point of recklessness, unlike the Sehun you had seen so often lately in the war room. This Sehun was yours, and yours only. And if the growing wet spot against his rough pants was any indication, then your body loved this Sehun as well.

“S-Sehun.”

“Hmm?”

“P-please let me touch you.”

“Alright, since you asked so nicely.”

You clumsily began to search for his hard bulge, and he grabbed your tied hands and guided them to something hard and hot. You jumped slightly in surprise, not realizing he had taken himself out of his pants while you were humping away at his thigh like a bitch in heat.

He laughed at your squirming, and you slowed the rhythm of your hips in annoyance, but not completely—your hips had stopped folding to you, subconsciously rutting, twitching gently against the rough, now ruined fabric, perpetually searching for release.

“S-shut up,” You panted, and he laughed again, pressing another kiss to your jawline.

“You shut up. I still have to make you come.”

His hands resumed their leisurely movement on your hips, your focus snapping back to the impending edge, thoughts blurring into incoherency as the pleasure against your core. Mindlessly, you let go of Sehun’s member to bring your hands up to your mouth, attempting to spit crudely in order to improvise lube.

Instead, your heart jumped into your throat in arousal when Sehun grabbed your free hand and did the same, keening at his actions, eyebrows furrowing. And, despite feeling a slight annoyance at the chafing of your thighs, a feral instinct took over, and your hips sped up against his thighs.

“You look perfect like this,” He told you, guiding your hand back to where he needed you most, and you began to pump him slowly. His hands moved to wrap around your waist, large hands splaying possessively across your back.

“Gods, I wish you could see how lovely you look, starshine,” He mumbled, seemingly in a daze, “All mine.”

You nodded. “Y-yours, Hunnie. Only yours.”

He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, his breath picking up as your hands did the same, pace speeding up. He groaned against your skin as you pressed your thumb into the slit of his cock. Your movements were harsh, jerking against him as you felt yourself losing yourself in his touch.

“S-Sehun, I’m gonna…”

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, his voice your only anchor, “Let go, Y/N, it’s okay.”

Finally, finally, you crested, head tipping back, mouth falling open in a silent scream, body stiffening in his arms as you were possessed by pleasure. In the dark, colors danced around you, sounds could be touched, Sehun’s hands on your body tasted exquisite.

You didn’t even realize that your display had tipped Sehun over the edge, spilling himself onto your hands while he gripped your shoulders like his life depended on it.

When you came down from your orgasm, your chest heaving, you reached up to pull the blindfold off of your face, struggling slightly as you were still restrained by the silk tie. You blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light of Sehun’s room, and found that he had fallen back onto the bed in the height of his orgasm.

His eyes had fluttered closed, panting furiously. He seemed loose, almost boneless, and you stifled a laugh at how much more relaxed he seemed now.

“I take it you had fun?” You asked, poking his stomach teasingly. After a moment of silence, of what you assumed to be Sehun trying to catch his breath, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Hunnie, come on, get up. Can you untie me, please, baby?”

No response. If anything, Sehun’s pants seemed to be getting even heavier.

“Sehun?”

His eyes fluttered open, and your blood ran cold.

His eyes had rolled up into his head, mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to say something but he’d lost his voice. Around you, the temperature seemed to drop.Out of nowhere, the scent of incense returned, stronger than ever, and beneath you, Sehun tensed, muscles contracting as he began to seize.

You froze, momentarily unsure of what was happening. Here lay your lover, convulsing under you, and you were restrained to a point where it would be difficult to help him. Panic creeped into your stomach, eyes searching for something, anything, that would get you out of the grasp of the silk tie. You brought your wrists up to your teeth, frantically hoping to loosen the knot. Sehun was still convulsing. Your eyes drifted around the room, glancing at his stiff hands, gnarled into unrecognizable gestures. Your clothes were on the floor, but you had left your knife in your room.

Knife. Sehun’s knife.

You lunged for the nightstand, knowing that was where he kept his switchblade in case of an emergency, tumbling to the floor as your legs gave out, still wobbly from both panic and your previous orgasm. You managed to open the drawer, clumsily fumbling for the blade, before pulling it out, holding it between your teeth and bringing your wrists up to your mouth, beginning to saw away at the lovely, pale fabric, suddenly not caring about its softness or its illusion of luxury.

All you needed was to know that Sehun was okay.

Your eyes squeezed shut at the thought that he might be dying, and when the final strands of silk finally gave way, you practically spat out the knife, grabbing onto the nightstand for balance, turning to look at Sehun on your weak legs.

He wasn’t on the bed anymore. Your eyebrows furrowed, head spinning as you tried to figure out what was going on.

“Beware the master of tongues.”

You shrieked, eyes snapping up from where the deep, almost demonic voice had come from, and almost fainted then and there.

Because somehow, Sehun was floating above you, suspended in midair, eyes open wide but not a sliver of brown could be seen. In its place shone a bright silver, the holiest of metals for the unholiest sight.

“Beware the master of tongues,” The voice spoke again, speaking through Sehun, who was stiff as a board, face contorted into a sneer, and you realized with a chill that this wasn’t Sehun, but rather the Oracle.

“Beware the master of tongues,” He said once more, as his sneer morphed into a cruel grin, “But beware more the wrath of the faceless one.”

[bndz]

(normani kordei, twenty-two, cisfemale, she/her) * hey, i’m looking for the office of adrianna king. they’re the intern who’s known around the office as the airhead, if that helps? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re humorous but talkative, is that true? i also heard that they’re the one who brought her pet fish to work. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

&  i’m  back  at  it  again  with  another  character  !  it  me  ,  tay  !  i  have  another  child  &  her  name  is  adri  .  she’s  my  bubbly  little  baby  &  i  love  her  chatty  ass  down  !  i  have  some  points  about  her  below  &  i  am  so  excited  that  i  got  to  bring  her  here  .  tw  :  religion  ,  homophobia  ,  toxic  parents  &  mentions  of  physical  violence  .

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔  !

NAME   :    adrianna  king  . NICKNAMES  :  adri  . GENDER   :   cisfemale  . PRONOUNS   :   she  /  her  /  hers  . AGE   :   twenty-two  (  22  ) BIRTHDAY   :   23  september  . ZODIAC   :   libra  . HOMETOWN  :  miami  ,  florida  . CURRENT  RESIDENCE  : new york city  , new york  . ETHNICITY   :   african-american  . SEXUAL ORIENTATION   :   bisexual  . OCCUPATION  :   intern  .  (  the  art  department  ,  but  more  so  visual  art  )

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅  !

FAMILY   :  born  &  raised  in  the  city  of  miami  ,  adri  grew  up  in  a  household  that  was  highly  religious  .  her  family  was  heavily  involved  in  the  church  with  her  mother  also  being  a  pastor  herself  .  because  of  this  ,  her  parents  were  very  strict  &  super  controlling  .  they  monitored  almost  everything  surrounding  adri  since  she  was  their  only  child  ,  trying  to  prevent  anything  they  deemed  negative  &  wrong  to  consume  their  daughter  .  

this  caused  for  adri  to  at  first  obey  them  because  she  was  a  child  ,  but  as  she  reached  her  teenage  years  she  saw  how  toxic  her  parents  could  actually  be  .  they  were  the  definition  of  religious  hover  parents  &  it  was  slowly  starting  to  cause  adri  to  resent  them  .  they  would  spend  hours  lecturing  her  if  she  wore  something  they  thought  was  inappropriate  .  they  would  call  her  names  &  say  she  was  being  fast  for  her  age  .  they  would  tell  her  she  was  going  to  go  to  hell  if  she  didn’t  listen  to  the  word  of  god  .  

it  all  came  to  blows  when  adri  was  figuring  out  her  sexuality  .  all  her  life  she  was  told  that  liking  the  same  sex  was  wrong  ,  but  she  was  having  feelings  for  the  same  sex  .  at  first  she  felt  internalized  homophobia  ,  but  as  she  started  to  grow  into  her  own  person  &  renounce  the  teachings  that  were  drilling  into  her  head  ,  she  started  to  accept  herself  .  she  knew  that  her  parents  were  going  to  condemn  her  ,  so  she  didn’t  ever  plan  on  coming  out  until  she  moved  out  .  sadly  ,  her  father  did  a  random  check  of  her  phone  &  found  texts  that  she  didn’t  delete  to  a  girl  she  was  dating  at  the  time  .  it  was  literally  a  shit  show  in  the  king  household  .  slaps  &  many  sessions  of  trying  to  pray  the  gay  away  later  ,  adri  had  to  pretend  as  though  she  was  not  bisexual  .  she  had  to  break  up  with  her  girlfriend  &  was  removed  from  public  school  to  be  home  schooled  at  sixteen  .   to  say  she  hated  her  parents  was  an  understatement  .  

as  the  years  went  on  ,  adrianna  was  counting  down  the  days  until  she  could  be  off  to  college  .  during  her  senior  year  she  applied  to  the  furthest  schools  from  miami  .  she  had  to  beg  her  parents  to  let  her  attend  an  out  of  state  college  ,  but  because  her  act  at  home  was  convincing  ,  they  allowed  her  to  stay  with  her  aunt  in  new  york  to  attend  college  .  they  were  still  going  to  be  as  controlling  as  ever  ,  but  it  was  a  step  closer  towards  freedom  .

SCHOOL   :  adrianna  attended  hofstra  university  &  majored  in  art  .  while  she  was  in  grade  school  ,  adrianna  gravitated  towards  painting  because  it  was  the  best  way  for  her  to  get  what  she  was  feeling  out  .  attending  college  was  the  best  thing  for  her  .  although  her  aunt  was  as  strict  &  religious  as  her  parents  ,  she  used  college  as  a  way  to  wild  out  .  she  was  sneaking  out  easier  because  her  aunt  worked  overnight  shifts  as  an  rn  .  she  was  enjoying  the  ounce  of  freedom  that  she  had  even  if  her  family  was  on  her  neck  24  /  7  .  she  had  a  lot  of  pressure  to  graduate  &  get  a  job  ,  so  that  she  could  live  on  her  own  &  she  knew  that  the  arts  wasn’t  the  best  major  to  find  a  joke  as  quickly  as  she  wanted  .  but  graduation  came  quick  &  adri  was  literally  scrambling  .

MASTER’S  :  after  college  ,  adri  was  literally  running  all  over  nyc  trying  to  look  for  a  job  .  it  took  her  months  to  finally  land  a  job  interview  at  master’s  &  she  honestly  thought  she  flopped  .  when  she  got  the  position  as  an  intern  she  was  literally  over  the  moon  .  she  absolutely  loves  working  at  master’s  &  she’s  hoping  she  can  move  up  the  ranks  .  being  that  she’s  new  at  the  position  ,  she’s  trying  her  best  to  fit  in  &  get  things  done  in  a  timely  manner  .  she  does  struggle  a  bit  because  it’s  her  first  big  girl  job  ,  but  she’s  working  on  it  day  by  day  .

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚  !

BUBBLY   :  you  could  easily  describe  her  as  someone  that  lights  up  the  room  with  her  smile  alone  .  adrianna  is  super  cheerful  &  very  positive  majority  of  the  time  .  she  has  a  hint  of  pep  in  her  voice  that  almost  sounds  like  she  talks  with  a  smile  &  she  usually  does  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  &  interact  with  others  .

FLIRTATIOUS  :  due  to  her  personality  ,  adrianna  is  naturally  friendly  &  flirtatious  .  she  will  flirt  with  ya  boo  &  it  won’t  even  be  intentional.  that’s  just  who  she  is  .  some  may  call  her  a  thottie  because  she  does  live  her  best  hot  girl  life  ,  but  she  truly  does  not  care  .  she  does  what  she  wants  because  she’s  poppin’  !  (  see connections  for  some  mess  surrounding  this  trait  )

TALKATIVE   :  honestly  ,  she  will  never  shut  up.  she  talks  very  fast  &  says  a  lot  &  it  can  also  be  alot  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  y’all  .  she  will  talk  anybody’s  ear  off  who  will  listen  .  she  can’t  help  it  .

DITZY   :   def’  has  her  moments  where  she’s  super  lost  .  it  takes  her  a  few  seconds  to  understand  jokes  sometimes  &  can  def’  lose  her  train  of  thought  as  well  .  she  can  be  a  little  dumb  ,  but  she’s  just  all  over  the  place  .  somebody  help  her  ,  please  ! 

in  general  she’s  like  a  bimbo  ,  but  not  to  the  worst  degree  .  she’s  v  aware  &  just  has  her  moments  .  she  doesn’t  like  when  people  try  to  be  condescending  towards  her  because  of  her  personality  ,  so  she  can  get  a  little  defensive  &  snappy  when  pushed  to  that  degree  .  it  takes  her  a  lot  to  snap  ,  so  i  doubt  she  will  be  popping  off  unless  she  is  truly  offended  .  she’s  also  not  that  confrontational  ,  but  if  she  has  to  defend  herself  ,  she  will  .  (  she  lowkey  can  get  creative  tbh  )  she’s  just  here  to  befriend  people  ,  okay  !

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔  !

001  .  enemies  .  i  feel  like  because  she’s  genuinely  nice  it  would  have  to  be  a  huge  reason  for  her  to  dislike  someone  .  so  ,  pick  your  poison  . 002  .  friends  with  benefits  .  we  always  love  these  ,  don’t  we  ?  she’s  with  all  the  shits  ,  okay  .  head  hot  girl  at  your  service  ! 003  .  exes  .  not  to  be  that  garbage  bag  ,  but  i’m  pretty  positive  adrianna  probably  cheated  on  all  of  her  exes  due  to  boredom  .  she  is  someone  that  needs  change  in  her  life  bc  of  how  she  was  treated  at  home  .  if  she  feels  stagnant  ,  she  will  just  pull  some  bs  like  cheating  &  move  on  to  the  next  .  truly  her  biggest  flaw  &  someone  gotta  smite  her  ass  for  this  fr  ! 004  .  besties  .  someone  give  her  a  baddie  bff  pls  ! 005  .  a  work  boo  .  v  self  explanatory  . 006  .  a  muse  .  since  adri  likes  to  paint  ,  this  could  be  someone  that inspires  her  artwork  or  even  let’s  her  paint  them  on  occasion  . again  ,  i  am  terrible  at  thinking  of  connections  ,  so  i’m  down  for  all  the  plots  !

𝒇𝒖𝒏  𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔  !

001  .  she  is  type  one  diabetic  . 002  .  is  a  huge  bad  bunny  stan  . 003  .  a  bratz  doll  collector  . 004  .  is  into  art  &  loves  to  paint  . 005  .  her  guilty  pleasure  is  watching  bad  girls  club  . 

[bettycooperoutfitwatch]

4x13 Chapter Seventy: The Ides of March

Hey. Sorry for disappearing. I was writing fic. And then I catalogued all of Jughead’s jackets. Pandemic, election. You know—stuff. 

Anyway, season’s over (...sort of), let’s get to it!

okay lol.

Betty’s smart, Jug’s into it, and she knows it. 

Her short-sleeve knit reminds me a bit of the sweater she wore to break into the Farm’s records room in 317, in that it’s a bit of a mishmash of colors and shapes. The cropped pants are something we’ve been seeing Betty wear in season 4 (see the last episode). I, personally, love a cropped trouser.

The pink platform Converse are the ones we first saw in 321, also at the Farm, but more recently were worn while working with Charles on FBI-ish Farm-hunting stuff in 402. 

Do we think if Bret walked in and saw Betty in his chair, he’d be pissed? I feel like he’d be snitty about it. He seems the type. 

Ah yes. Another turtleneck under a jumper (an American jumper, fyi). This is a season 4 uniform for Betty. 

Light blue is something we’ve certainly seen her in quite a few times, but a dark forest green, with a v-neck? That’s newish.

The lettuce hems are sending me to the 90s. 

Also—Betty drinking coffee? If I recall correctly, that’s how you know shit is going down? 

Light-colored ankle boots—very season 1. 

(Do you think Donna’s turned on? I think Donna’s turned on.)

(Backpack 2.0)

Behold those fuzzy slippers.

(head in hands)

The fckn dino bomber jacket. It’s Murder Day, y’all. 

This outfit first appeared in a flash-forward in 409. The oatmeal-colored turtleneck was also worn in 410 (another turtleneck and cord jumper look), when B & V worked to infiltrate a different Stonewall party. 

As for the plaid mini—Betty’s often worn tartan throughout the show as a nod to Jug, which—yeah, that works here, too. She wore this one in Quiz Show. 

This bag has popped up throughout the season, first seen when Betty visited Stonewall with Jug in 402.

Based on this terrible screenshot and one from when she’s in the woods later that is just too dark to inflict upon you, I’m like 85% sure these are the iridescent oxfords she wears in 412. 

I, too, am concerned with whatever is happening here. 

As an aside:

A plot seedling set in motion in 407 comes home to roost. (Listen, I’m out of practice, don’t @ me if my metaphors are wonky.) 

I hate it. But it does give us this (admittedly rare) moment of reality from Riverdale:

It’s true and I also hate it. Women suffer a disproportionate brunt of the negative results from what is misleadingly called revenge porn.

Fucking misogyny.  

...This is a very Alice Cooper stance, Elizabeth. 

If I’m completely honest, I still don’t get the plan. What’s the plan, Jug? What’s the bunny mask for? Note it’s the same mask Bret and Donna wore, also in 407—maybe Bret’s threat of blackmail made Jug think of it? How is this your means of getting rid of the leverage the Stonies have over you, Jug? I have questions.

Even Betty is like what’s the plan here I don’t get the plan. 

Obviously the plan doesn’t come to fruition, because Jughead gets ~murdered~

idk V, you tell me!!!

Before we get to the end of this ep, let me just say the only folks doing this party right are Archie and Veronica, who sneak off to smash in the woods. Less murdering and getting framed for murder and being murdered, more smashing in the woods pls.

(Every time she says ‘make it’ I think of Joanne in Company.)

Liquid courage. 

Whoops, didn’t work. 

Summary: 3 outfits (not including a very brief flashback to her pajamas in 407)

Backpack 2.0?: hey friend.

The fucking dinosaur count: listen. 

Best outfit: I’m not terribly partial to any of these? Let’s go with the green pinafore. 

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.  

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system  time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good  MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿  if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

[sirius-archive]

Could I get an imagine where the reader is a muggle American and she’s on vacation in London with her family and she somehow lost her family and she’s like freaking out and then she runs into Sirius on the streets and he like helps calm her down and helps her find her family? Sorry if this is a weird request

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans (mentioned) 

Warnings: Swearing, stranger danger too, I guess. 

A/N: so sorry this took so long! I loved the idea and I hope I did it justice. I might add to it later on or revamp it bc I love the idea but it’s a big maybe at the moment bc I’m so busy with uni and work and also my other wips. I hope you enjoy this though. Also I changed the request quite a bit bc I forgot what you originally wanted! So sorry!! 

just want to add that I did something o probably shouldn’t and included my real life friends! With their permission, ofc. I also made a modern reference even tho it’s supposed to be the seventies but I liked it too much so I left it in ha ha. Also…pls don’t talk to strangers. This is fanfiction people not an advice column. 

****

It’s another uncharacteristically warm day in London.

The sun showers blankets of warm golden light over the city, guilding skyscrapers and warming the sweet, honeyed breeze. Sparrows are chirping sweet, morning songs, dancing in the air with surprising grace. Squirrels scamper across lush green grounds in a park nearby, happily bidding you a good morning.

And not one of these motherfuckers are going to help you find your friends.

You wander aimlessly past the same park monument you saw just half an hour ago. Your legs are already aching, your feet are forming blisters that hurt the more you think about them, and the sun is slowly drilling into your soul.

You think you might die of thirst before you find your friends.

In retrospect, it wasn’t entirely Sophie’s fault. While it was her dumb shit idea to tag along with the sexy British tour guide, you, Matt, Aaron, Riley and Reuben had been far more interested in touring the British Museum. So it wasn’t at all surprising when Sophie rushed off with knockoff Colin Firth to have a jolly high tea or whatever it is British people do on dates. Still, it gave you an opportunity to visit the museum.

You hadn’t even walked through the front gates when Matt, Aaron and Riley wandered off to have a deep and meaningful (you had warned Riley that coming on the trip with Aaron would cause some tension between your group. Thing between you and Aaron were a lot more complicated than the five-night-stand you’d shared last year). Reuben, being his usual womanising self, started flirting with the hot receptionist and not wanting any part of that (last time you wing-womaned for Reuben, the chick thought you were seeking a third), you stepped out for some air.

Now, you’re trying to navigate through the urban maze that is London by yourself, struggling to find your friends who are scattered all over the city.

Slumping against a park chair, you take a deep breath and study your map again. A part of you is screaming at you to swallow your pride and ask for directions but you’re a stubborn New Yorker and if you can effortlessly find your way through the Big Apple, you can tackle London.

“You’re not from around here…” says a masculine voice behind you. You sit up straight, whipping around in the direction of the voice.

Holy fucking cucumber sandwich.

The most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on leans against the trunk of an old oak tree, observing you with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. He looks like he chomps down magical donuts that grant him sexy powers. You stare.

A cigarette hangs from his kissable, smirking lips. His hair falls gracefully around his face, framing glinting gray-blue eyes, high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He’s wearing a leather jacket and exudes all types mysterious-sexy-bad boy vibes. You’d bet a hundred bucks that he rides a motorcycle too.

Boys with motorcycles are usually trouble.

Your mouth goes a little bit dry.

“Please don’t be a serial killer,” you mutter and the stranger cocks a perfect eyebrow.

“What was that?”

You shake your head, “I mean — Is it that obvious?”

Sexy bad boy stranger shrugs, “I know a lost tourist when I see one.”

“Is this what you do, then? Lurk around parks waiting for lost tourists?”

Bad boy chuckles — a deep growling sound that rumbles at the back of his throat, “Maybe. Maybe I was just walking past and thought I’d help out a pretty girl in need.”

It takes all of your willpower not to blush now.

“So you’re just a Good Samaritan, then.”

“I’m whatever you want me to be.”

“What if I want you to go away?”

The handsome, young motorbike guy takes a deliberate step forward, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You swallow. He’s good at this game. Something tells you that you’re not the first victim of his play-boy charms.

Desperately trying to reclaim your composure, you fold your arms across your chest and glare at him.

“What makes you think I need your help?”

British James Dean thinks for one attractive moment, “Well, you don’t have to accept my help but something tells me that if you don’t ask for directions soon, you’re going to end up wandering around London forever.”

He makes a good point.

You stand up from your seat, arms still folded across your chest, “Hypothetically speaking, If I were to accept your help, how would I know that you’re not a perverted serial killer who wants to collect my spleen and leave me in a ditch or something?”

Sexy stranger takes another step forward, “That’d be a shame. You’re too beautiful to kill, and I’m just beginning to like you.”

“That’s exactly what a perverted serial killer would say.”

“Touché. Alright, how about this: I drop you off at your hotel straight away, no detours and no taxi fees that you have to fork out to greedy muggl— erm, I mean, drivers.”

You consider this. He certainly doesn’t seem like a serial killer. Still, it’s hard to trust a charming stranger, especially one as handsome as he is. Then again, if he’s smart — which he definitely is — he’d never kill you in broad daylight in the middle of London.

You uncross your arms and hold one out for him to shake, “Alright, deal.”

Sexy stranger takes your hand and shakes it. His hand is strong and firm and electricity sparks in the warm space where your hands are clasped together.

“Sirius.”

“What?”

“Sirius.”

You blink at him, “Is that some kind of fungal STI that I need to be aware of?”

Sexy stranger chuckles again, “My name is Sirius.”

Sirius? Who the fuck calls their kid Sirius? You have to admit that the name suits him, and the way he says it — in a husky, velvety murmur — gives the name an alluring sex appeal, which sums him up completely.

You consider giving him a fake name but ultimately decide against it. That’s just weird and you can’t lie for shit.

“I’m (Y/N).”

Sirius repeats your name, tasting it on his lips. A more carnal part of you wishes he’d say it in a completely different context.

“Alright, (Y/N),” Sirius smiles, and he practically glows with charisma, “Lets get you home.”

***

You were right, of course. About the motorcycle.

Sirius’ carefully-polished motorbike is almost as sexy as it’s owner; gleaming in the sunlight and flaunting a sleek black paint job with plush leather seats. Several passerby’s stop to admire it (or Sirius, you can’t exactly tell), though Sirius doesn’t pay them any mind. One dudebro with a repugnantly bright tank top gawks at the motorbike while his girlfriend stares hungrily at Sirius.

“I’ve…never ridden a motorcycle before,” you bleat nervously.

Sirius hands you a helmet and smiles.

“Just hold onto me and you’ll be fine.”

Sirius mounts his motorbike and you awkwardly slide in behind him. You’re not sure where to put your hands so you place them on his shoulders. You think you hear Sirius laugh behind his helmet.

Sirius turns the ignition, revs the engine, and kicks the bike into gear.

“You alright back there?” He calls over the roar of the bike.

“Uh—yeah.”

“Hold onto my waist,” he orders, “You’ll be more secure.”

You’re about to protest but then Sirius takes off and you find your arms flying to his waist, gripping on tightly.

It’s exhilarating. Liberating. Intoxicating.

As Sirius weaves between London traffic, you feel a rush of adrenaline pulse through your veins. The air whips past, fluttering around the ruffled trim of your dress. Your hands soak in the warmth of Sirius’ body, his muscles firm beneath your touch.

You pass familiar landmarks and stores you passed when you and your friends took the double-decker bus from your hotel room. You recognise the buildings around you and realise the hotel is just a few kilometres down the street, on the right.

Suddenly, Sirius veers off to the left and zooms down a street you don’t recognise.

“What are you doing? The hotel is up that way!”

“I just have to make a quick stop,” he shouts over his shoulder.

“That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

You clutch onto him, apprehension beginning to claw away at your lower belly. Where is he taking you? How could you have been so stupid to trust an extremely attractive stranger to follow through with a deal?

Sirius slows the bike down until it rolls to a stop and flicks the engine off, climbing off sexily. He helps you clamber awkwardly off the bike and you tear your helmet off, taking in your surroundings for the first time.

You’re next to a footpath with a view of the The Thames, lined with large ornamental pear trees. Its quite a romantic spot with a view of the entire city sitting pretty behind the flowing River Thames.

Sirius tells you to wait by the motorbike and stalks away, rushing toward a boy who looks about your age. He’s tall, has messy black hair, and half-frame glasses. He looks like a sexy professor with the body of an Olympic swimmer that all the girls have crushes on.

Why are all the men here so insanely attractive?

You’re just about to sink into a delightful fantasy of sexy Professor feeding you grapes when Sirius comes up behind you.

“Ready to go?”

You ignore his question, “Who was the god — I mean — guy that you saw?”

Sirius arches an eyebrow. You notice for the first time that there is a scar knitted into it, “That’s James. He’s a total prat, by the way.”

“Sounds like you two have that in common,” you quip and Sirius mocks offence.

“Anyone tell you that you’re cruel?”

“Everyday of my life.”

“Here I was thinking you were just another hot little American bird.”

For one half of a millisecond, your brain snags on the word ‘hot.’ Did he just call you hot? You heard that right? You recover with grace, grinning wickedly.

“You’ll get over it.”

A teasing smirk flirts around the corners of Sirius’ lips, a little crookedly, slanting lazily in a way that makes your cheeks warm. He looks amused by this verbal tug-of-war but also a little turned on.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

“You ever walk along the River Thames?” Sirius asks, sliding his strong, sexy hands into the pocket of his sexy leather jacket. He begins to follow the footpath, leading you past the knots of pigeons and moonstruck lovers.

“No,” you sigh, “Admittedly, I just came along for the underage drinking and the hot British guys.”

Sirius laughs, “How’s that working out for you?”

You shrug, teasing him with a flirtatious smile, “I’m still working on it.”

“If you want,” Sirius begins, clawing at the nape of his neck, “I can help you out with that.”

You quirk a carefully-manicured brow, “What, you know any hot guys like your buddy James?”

Sirius snorts, “I wouldn’t go saying that around his girlfriend.”

“Why, is she the jealous type?”

“No, she’s the ‘try-not-to-make-his-fat-Head-even-fatter’ type.”

You chuckle, intrigue plucking at your mind, “She’s my type of girl.”

“Lily is everyone’s type of girl.”

“Well now I just have to meet her.”

Sirius raises his brows, a spark of hope in his eyes, “Is that your way of telling me that you’re taking me up on the offer for free beer?”

“You never said it was free before.”

“I’m feeling generous.”

“Aw, and they say chivalry is dead.”

Sirius laughs easily in a way that is completely carefree, as though laughter bubbles just beneath his skin, itching to pour out. It’s mesmerising how he doesn’t seem to take life too seriously.

“You are something else,” he says, letting his eyes catch and linger on yours for a quiet, suspended moment.

A gust of warm, summer wind brings peach blossoms raining down. The gentle coo of a skylark echoes in the distance. Time slows to a stop to stare at the two of you.

He steps forward, like he’s about to kiss you.

You let him.

He tastes like liquor and rebellion, a little wild in a way you’ve never realised you’ve wanted, you’ve needed. His hands are strong as they wrap around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Your fingers roam through his hair, tangling, tugging, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. You feel drunk on him, your head spinning and your heart thumping, as though it’s trying to tear through your chest and leap into his strong, capable hands. Suddenly, you realise how weird this is. He’s a stranger you’ve known for an hour or so yet now you’re kissing him. It’s as though you’re somehow drawn to him, to his energy, to the way he seems to know you intimately, in ways you hardly know about yourself. You break away, taking a step away from him. Sirius looks like he’s five again and has just had his favourite toy ripped away from him. 

““Are you—?”

Slap

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you’re slapping him across the cheek, not hard but he feels it. You kissed a stranger. That is a thing you did. You also slapped said stranger, partly because of impulse and partly because you’re terrified of how quickly your feelings are beginning to stir for someone you hardly know. Sirius is stunned, silent, staring at you with shock and hurt that stings you more than it should. You stare back, drawn in by every fleck of colour in his eyes, suddenly aware that, sure, he may be a stranger but that doesn’t mean he has to stay one. Obviously, you have a connection.

 So…connect.

 You crash your lips against his again, throwing your arms around his neck. 

Your friends can wait. You’ve found yourself a new tour guide. 

[larryssunflower]

Non-Royal Romance, part ten

read past parts to catch up!

one    two    three    four    five     six     seven     eight    nine

This is a pretty long part to make up for the shorter ones and boy is it a big one! I hope you guys like it and I have important info at the bottom! Also pls don’t hate me 😅

Tagging usuals let me know if you wish to be added or removed! :) @simplyaiden-blog @butindeed @mfackenthal @axwalker @confessionsofabrokegirl @choices-lurker @american-duchess @drakelover78 @monosodiumglutamateme @crookedslimecreatorpasta @mrsdrakewalkerblog @traeumerinwitzhelden @gardeningourmet @speedyoperarascalparty @agent-zephyrkah @liam-rhys-x-mc-x-constantine @snyggflicka @texaskitten30 @annekebbphotography @irishwhiskys-blog @nomadics-stuff @msjr0119 @catlady0911​ @twinkle-320​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @drakewalker04​ @bigmemesplz​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @sleepwalkingelite​ @pintobomb​  @moneyfordiamonds​ @mskaneko​ @lauzales​ 

—

My dance partner twirls me around the dance floor, in sync with the rest of crowd as we perform the Cordonian Waltz. He spins me out gracefully, then pulls me back in. I was too distracted by figuring out my plans for later when this suitor asked me to dance, I didn’t catch his name. Proof I’m a terrible Noble. I don’t even know the names of most of the suitors in line to marry me. Luckily he’s quiet and a pretty good dancer. He’s probably just dancing with me for formalities, which to be honest, so am I.

As usual, I lose myself in the dance, and before long, the song is over. I thank my partner and walk off the dance floor as fast possible to avoid the many other suitors asking me to dance. I make it to an hors d’oeuvre table by the windows of the ball, which look out to an elegant balcony. “Alana!” Someone calls. I turn to see Liam smiling warmly to me. “Liam! How are you?” I ask politely. “I’m doing well,” He replies, his eyes scanning my face. “And you?” He asks, seeming to sense my anxiety. “I’m great,” I lie, taking a deep breath. “Its just- a big night,” I manage, making him nod in understanding. 

“Alana, I hope you know how much you mean to me,” Liam says after a pause, his expression serious. I gulp and smile. “I do,” I say, but he shakes his head. “You don’t understand, I have never felt this way about someone. I think I lo-” He suddenly gets cut off by my Mother. “Alana, a word please,” My mom says to me. I nod, my heart hammering. Was he going to tell me what I think he was going to tell me? “In private,” My mother adds, glancing over to Liam, who just nods quickly. “Yes of course Your Majesty, my apologies. I’ll chat to you later Alana,” He quickly says with a bow, before walking away, casting a curious glance over his shoulder. I turn to my mother. She glances around for a moment. “Follow me,” She orders, going out onto the empty balcony. She nods at the security detail by the doors, who, once we are both outside, close and guard the doors, stopping anyone reaching us.

“Mom, whats going on?” I ask, and she turns to me, a serious look on her face. “Are you confident on who you will choose?” She asks, taking me aback. “I thought you said you wanted to wait-” I start but she sighs impatiently. “Well after some thought to it, I remembered how you can be. You have always been the flighty, wild, and unpredictable child, and I want to make sure Cordonia will have a sure and stable Queen and King,” my mother says, pausing for a moment. “This is a big deal Alana,” She adds, making a surge of anger start to flow within me. Like I don’t know that? Like I haven’t been lectured that exact thing my entire life? “I’m sorry Mother, but you are the one who forced me to do this. I never had a choice! I was born into a family which thrust me into a life I had no control over. I am doing the damn best I can!” I argue, my heart starting to race in anger. “Don’t talk to me like that. You are going to choose Liam, correct?” She asks, looking down at me, less like a question more like a threat.

I scoff. “You know what? No. I’m not in love with him. I love someone else. Someone my judgemental mother would never approve of,” I practically spit at her, crossing my arms. She raises her eyebrows, a sour look crossing her features. “Who is it?” She asks, her eyes glancing over my shoulder. I follow her gaze through the ball windows to Drake, who is standing inside, his hands clasped in front of him. “It seems like you already know,” I say coldly, my heart hammering in fear. Will she kick me out? Fire Drake?

There is a definitive pause between us as my Mother thinks. She finally comes to a decision, making me gulp in anticipation. “You will choose Liam. I don’t care about your careless flirtations or affairs, but for the good of this country, you will choose Liam. Don’t disappoint me.” She says, her words acid. I look down, trying to hide my emotions. Without another word, she walks past me, entering the ball again. Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them away. I turn, clutching onto the stone wall and looking out onto the grounds. I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. I blink in confusion as I spot a strange flash of light on the grounds, by the maze. I squint my eyes, trying to get a better look or see if I can make out anything. After staring at the same spot for a minute, I just shake my head at myself. I’m clearly not thinking straight. I take a deep breath once again, and turn to the ball.

I’m ready now. 

As I walk into the ballroom, my eyes find Drake within seconds from instinct. He was scanning the room with those eyes, and stop as they meet mine. Just eye contact with him ignites a fire in my chest. He isn’t just some affair or flirtation as my mom would put it. He’s more. So much more. My mom thinks I’m wild and unpredictable, so let her. I nudge my head towards the exit discreetly to Drake, and make my way out. I don’t look over my shoulder, but hope with all my being that he trusts me and will follow. I make my way up the grand staircase, and halfway up, glance back to see Drake walking out of the ballroom looking around. He came, I think, my heart swelling. I whistle, making him snap his head in my direction, he smirks, shaking his head at me. I bite my lip, making my way up the stairs. 

I eventually make it to my hallway, his footsteps following me. I reach my door, turning to look at him. He stops, looking at me with confusion. I smile and unlock my door, going inside. I wait for him and he comes in, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?” He asks, looking at me with genuine concern. I don’t answer, walking up to him. I stand in front of him for a minute, just looking into those intoxicating eyes, basking in our rare proximity.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. I melt into his strong build, and he supports me, pulling me closer to his body. My nerves are on fire as our kiss deepens, my arms wrapped around his neck and his hands roaming my back. I will never get over the feeling of being with him. It’s like my whole world become centered around him when we are together. Nothing else matters. The only thing I fathom is the feeling of his lips on mine, anchoring me to earth, giving me breath. 

I can’t lose him. 

God, what will I do if I lose him?

A sob chokes at the back of my throat to my own surprise, making Drake stop, pulling away and examining my face, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. “What is it?” He asks, and as much as I wish it wouldn’t happen, my eyes brim with tears, the urge to cry overwhelming. I swallow, and look up at his kind, worried, beautiful eyes. “I... I’m scared of losing you,” I choke out, tears falling from my eyes. “oh,” He sighs softly, bringing me into a tight hug. He pulls me toward him, his arms wrapped snuggly around my body. I burrow my face into his shoulder, feeling safe. We stay like that for a while, comforted by each other’s embrace. I want to tell him how I feel but its so scary thinking of actually saying it out loud to him.

It’s more scary thinking about how I could lose him tonight. He loosens his grip of me, leaning back to see my face. He brushes his fingers softly across my cheeks, wiping my tears away. I just blink up at him, realizing how lucky I have been just to have these few moments in between with him. If that is all I get, its alright. “I know, it’s a hard decision you have to make. But I will never be upset with you, no matter what you choose to do.” Drake tells me softly, and I nod, swallowing my tears. I sniffle, looking down suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Sorry for crying,” I say with a self conscious chuckle. His eyes crinkle around his eyes fondly as he looks at me. “You don’t need to be sorry,” He says kindly, caressing my face.

We just look deeply into each other’s eyes for a moment, and I don’t ever want to look away, but he does, as he looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry this happened. You were supposed to find the love of your life these past few weeks, and I took that away from you. I should have been stronger. I should have pushed you away,” He says, his hands falling to his side, regret laced in his voice. His words are like daggers to my heart. “So you regret it all?” I ask, my heart pounding in my ears. He winces, slowly bringing his eyes to meet mine. “I was selfish Alana. Looking back, I wanted nothing more than to be with you, which isn’t fair to you. You have so much on your shoulders, especially tonight and forward. You are becoming Queen Alana. I only regret that I made that harder for you.” He says. I’m lost for words for a moment, soaking in his words. I realize how cold I feel, without his arms around me. 

He turns, his hand on the door handle. “Drake,” I say, and he stops, still facing away from me. “I wouldn’t have been able to survive if it wasn’t for you. You don’t seem to understand how much you mean to me. I would have been stuck in the world I hate, suffocated by the rules, the nobles, the stupid balls and the inevitability of my title. You were my breath of fresh air after twenty-four years of being drowned. You mean everything to me.” I say, my heart hammering in anticipation of his response. He glances over his shoulder back at me, a troubled expression on his face. “It’s better this way,” He says with finality, opening the door, walking out. I sigh, tears burning behind my eyes yet again. 

I look down, a tear falling from my eyes. I’m going to lose him.

No. 

Fuck that. I don’t care about what Drake thinks. I am not going to walk away from him. Fuck playing it safe, allowing myself to roll over and let my expectations dictate my life once again. I take a deep breath, checking myself in the mirror. Red cheeks, slightly swollen eyes, but makeup is alright. I fix some of my hair, straightening out my gown. I can do this. 

Opening my door, I march through, and down the hall, determination flowing through me. It’s better this way my ass. I’m no longer going to allow my happiness be sacrificed for what others want. Eventually, I reach the ballroom, everyone still dancing. I make my way to my mother, knowing the ceremony should begin shortly. My mother watches as I stand beside her, overlooking the ballroom. “Remember what we discussed,” She mutters to me, and I nod. “Oh I remember, trust me,” I say, glancing around the room at all the nobles enjoying themselves. Drake isn’t far from me, standing about ten feet away, staring straight forward at the ballroom, not even glancing in my direction. Just you wait. I think, looking forward to seeing his face once I tell everyone just how much he means to me. 

The song slows to a stop, and it’s time. The nobles face my mother and I, knowing whats about to happen. I find Liam, grinning up at me. I also spot Maxwell and Allie near the back, who both give me a thumbs up, smiling. I smile back at them, grateful for their support. A man hands my mother her microphone and my heart starts to race nervously. One more thing I suck at, public speaking. 

My mother is about to speak when all the lights suddenly shut off, gasps and screams erupting throughout the ballroom. Must just be an electrical issue, right? As the lights switch back on, the ball is swarmed with people in dark clothing, ambushing nobles with assault rifles. The room is chaos, people screaming, running in multiple directions as assassins shoot, making me stagger backward, my heart pounding as I shake my head in disbelief. Before i can decide my escape route, an assassin comes up, his weapon trained on me. Panicked, I throw my hands up in defense, my heart so loud at this point, I feel that it will burst out of my chest. I’m frozen in fear as the assassin nears me, his weapon not wavering from being pointed directly at me. No, not like this.

I spot Drake sprinting over to me, a determined look on his face. I glance back the assassin who turns his head to the side, looking me over. “Any last words Princess?” He asks, making my stomach flop horribly. I just stutter, shaking my head back and forth. The assassin, without missing a beat aims and fires, just as Drake jumps in front of me. I get thrown on the ground, pain shooting through my body. My vision is blurry as I try to focus on whats going on around me to no avail. The screams and gun shots seem to get further away as my vision blackens until nothingness surrounds me.

-----

As I start to become conscious, all I can hear is a faint beeping noise. I blink slowly at the bright lights above my head, my whole body aching. I try to sit up and gauge my surroundings, but my mother’s face comes into view. “Oh Alana!” My mother cries, hugging me. I cringe as pain shoots through my arm. “Oh, baby I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, getting off me. I finally realize I’m in a small hospital room, a beeping monitor next to me, and my mother sitting beside me in a chair, watching at me worryingly. She isn’t in her gown, so it must be after the ball. holy shit, the ball! “What... what happened?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “I’m not sure how much you remember, but a couple days ago on your coronation night, there was an assassination attempt. And, well, you were shot,” My mother explains, tears springing to her eyes, taking me by surprise. “But I thought Drake-” I start, and she makes an unimpressed face. “Yes well he tried to jump in the way, but the bullet merely grazed him and hit you in the shoulder” She explains, as if jumping to take someone else’s bullet isn’t impressive. I’m just happy that he’s alive.

I look over at my shoulder, which is heavily bandaged. “Did anyone else get hurt?” I ask, my stomach twisting unpleasantly. All those people came there that night for me. Doesn’t that make it my fault? “Yes, some of your suitors were hurt, and Liam suffered some hits when he was fighting off the assassins, but luckily, no deaths.” My mother reports, making me breathe out a sigh of relief. “Well, I’m glad everyone is okay,” I mutter, looking down. I can’t believe this. We are a peaceful country. I didn’t think we had any enemies, let alone anyone who would want to kill me. 

A nurse comes in, checking my vitals and asking me questions about who I am and all that to make sure I didn’t suffer any brain damage. “All right, you seem to be doing well your Highness, we’ll be back later to check up on you,” She says kindly, to which I thank her as she walks out the door. My mother turns the television on the wall on, and we sit there awkwardly for a moment. “I hope you know who you were going to choose.” My mother says, making me sigh. of course. “Mom, I was literally shot, can’t this wait?” I ask, and she shakes her head. “I know honey, but this is very important, and the quicker we get it out there to calm the people the better,” She says, but I just shake my head in disbelief. “I was going to choose the man I love,” I say simply, looking at the wall. 

“Alana, You know we can’t allow that.” Mother says, grasping my hand. I turn to her. “That was my decision. Sorry to disappoint, but its the truth. I’m sorry if you can’t handle that,” I say simply. She just looks at me, staring into my eyes. I can tell she’s aggravated. She suddenly gets up, adjusting her dress. “I am going to grab a coffee and once I’m back maybe you will have thought about your decision,” She says calmly, getting up, and stalking out of the room. “Yeah you do that,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. When will she understand that I am not going to do everything she wants? 

A while later, theres a knock at my door. “come in,” I say, and the door opens to reveal Drake in a plain shirt and jeans. I struggle to sit up to say hi, and he rushes over, helping me with my pillows. I can’t help thinking about how awful I must look, pathetically lying in a hospital bed. “Thanks” I mutter, and he nods, grabbing the chair and sitting close beside me, his knee bouncing nervously. “I’m so sorry Alana, I should have blocked the bullet, if I just ran over quicker- I would be the one in that bed right now-” He rushes out, barely being able to look at me. I reach over, placing my hand on his, making him stop, looking up at me. 

“You cannot possibly blame yourself for this Drake. It was just unlucky. If you weren’t there the bullet probably could’ve hit me somewhere fatal,” I reassure him and he lets out a breath shakily, looking deeply into my eyes. He doesn’t look like he’s slept at all. “God- it was horrible. You were on the ground, blood pouring out of you. There was so much- I thought you were-” He can barely finish his sentence, his voice cracking as a sob escapes him. “Oh Drake... I’m so sorry you had to experience that,” I say, wishing I had the strength to reach over and hug him. “It’s over now, and we are both okay. That’s all that matters,” I comfort him, and he nods, wiping at his face.

 “I just- couldn’t face the fact that you would have died thinking I didn’t want to be with you. I never told you that... I love you,” Drake says softly, looking up at me nervously. 

I grin widely, my heart bursting with happiness. “I love you too,” I giggle - god this man has turned me into a woman who giggles- making him break into a smile. He leans over, giving me a sweet and gentle kiss. We stay there beside each other, laughing and talking. I told him that I was going to choose him, making him shake his head in amusement. ‘always so stubborn,’ he said with a grin.Nothing could make me happier than being here, in this moment. 

My eyes glance over Drake’s shoulder to see through the blinds of my window, and see my mother watching us in the hall, a look of realization / regret on her face. I slightly frown. Where’s the coffee she was getting?

A sudden voice on the television grabs my attention. “Breaking News! The Queen Mother Regina has officially announced through a small press conference just minutes ago that princess Alana is awake and healthy, doing well! Not only that, but Alana just could not wait any longer to announce her future husband, Liam of Valtoria!....” The voices of the news anchors fade away as I bring my hand up to my mouth in shock. I glance over at Drake, who is looking at me, confused. My heart sinks and I look down, shaking my head. How could she have done this to me?

“The happy couple will depart on their engagement tour in just a few months once they have fully healed, so stay tuned Cordonia! Love is in the air!”

----- end of season one -----

Ahhhhh! Crazy huh? flipped the switch on you guys on that on hehe ;) So yeah, as many of you voted, you wanted me to continue the series further, and I thought this was a good way to organize it, by “seasons” I guess. So season two will be coming soon! I’m sure you guys can guess what will be going on lol. But i’m excited for you guys to read it, and to write it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this so far! Love you all and hope you guys are doing well and are healthy!

[katewaliss]

1x1 plot list!

hello girls, gays and theys! my name is crissy, i’m 21, go by she/her pronouns and live in the PST timezone. i am celebrating bullshitting my way through my junior year with ( copious amounts of tequila but also ) make a list of 1x1 ideas / plot bunnies because i need something to do during this Borentine and what better way to spend it then making myself cry with ships! 

i primarily send really long keysmash head cannons through discord and the ims, but i am also down to do replies ( on tumblr or discord ) and ask memes are my most favorite. i am introverted af but very excited abt ships so i really like having rp partners who like want to stay up all night and write and scream with me, so if that sounds like u, come thru! 

if u like any of these please don’t hesitate to shoot me an im! 

also my discord is daddy devito#2918 ( & yes, i do hate myself  )

were starting with mermaids bc i love mermaids

ALSO YES I LIKE OPPOSITE PLOTS DONT @@@@@ ME!!!!!

ALSO ALL OF THESE PLOTS CAN BE GAY! BE GAY DO CRIMES!

i’ve always kind of wanted one based loosely on these pictures x, x, x. im thinking ponyo meets enchanted meets h20 little mermaid AF realness! like maybe hes this lil regular boy high school college student taking pictures and stuff and sees this girl wash up on the shore looking very confused. so he helps her and you know, shes a little hysterical and cant walk very well, takes her into his apartment puts a towel over here bc she like keeps talking abt how shes a mermaid and hes like oh my god shes crazy ahh. she keeps saying her dad is king of the ocean and hes like???? do u have a last name? and the police dont know anything abt her she has no file, no id, no finger print in the database? 

basically the mermaid is staying w the college student in his apartment and he like teaches her what the microwave and the tv is and its very soft  they fall in luv maybe drama he has a girl friend who sucks a lot who is angry abt mermaid girl idk maybe the government realizes and tries to steal her! fun THAT FIRST PIC? MAYBE HE SAVED HER WHEN HE WAS A KID ONCE FROM DROWNING!!! AHHH

alternatively i found these pictures were are in the same vein very aquamarine x, x, x, lifeguard off duty surfing and he gets stuck in a gnarly wave and almost drowns but this mermaid saves his life! and he comes to see her a lot on the beach and they hang out and fall in love he teaches her how to speak english shows her his phone!!! MAYBE THE GOVERNMENT IS ALSO POACHING HER WE LOVE DRAMA

ok last mermaid plot? BUT ITS A SIREN PLOT!!!!!!! these sirens/a siren wipes out this sailors entire ship with the sirens song they all get drowned/eaten .... but plot twist! this one sailor homie lives bc he is DEAF and therefore IMMUNE TO THE SIREN SONG!! so this siren keeps tryna sing at him and its not working and u know they fall in love good stuff MORE POACHES MORE PIRATES MORE GOVERNMENT TRYNA KILL THE AQUATIC AMERICAN BC I LOVE SUFFERING modern or maybe set back in the day???? spicy

anthour or a sculptor that writes a book w a main character or makes a statue and it comes to life and has no perception of human stuff and is like a big alien

also literally all of these plots can be made gay as the flyest bi i ENCOURAGE it!!!! i will play either character in any of them pls tell me which one u like if u like one

pls the clown clown valedictorian plot

ok speaking of giving the gays everything they want

damn i just want a cheesy wlw 1x1 plot where the first girl is a famous celebrity hella spoiled very purse dog paris hilton type and her fancy convertible sports car breaks down smack dab in a small ass hick nowheresville town and this flannel wearing mannerless tomboy mechanic comes to fix her car but rich girl is stuck in town a few days while they order the part she needs for her car bc it’s a small town they don’t have it and they get closer and the celebrity girl is humbled by the town and learns a lot abt the world and herself just ,, good times LISTEN!!!! zendaya and kristine froseth ???? SPICY

ok maybe a period piece lady knight / princess plot where she was personally assignment to the princess but maybe its a whole mulan thing where no one knows the night is a girl and is posing as a man bc women were allowed to be knights and the princess is betrothed to some loser prince once again ill play either

princess body guard plots always smack

ok princess protection program BUT GET THIS instead of that its my boy dmitri who is the heir to the russian throne or some made up european country but theres an assasination attempt so hes told he has to go into witness protection. and this dude or girls dad is head of cia/fbi and dmitri has to pose as a foreign exchange student at y/ns college and be shown around/baby sat by them. they hate eachother. probably bc dmitri is obnoxious and entitled and sleeps w everyone. he was a matthew daddario fc but not that necessary!

cheerleaders on opposite squads who got the sexual tension!!!!

plot based off hollywood the netflix limited series where its 1940s-1950s hollywood and maybe actors falling in love, an actor and a director? OR omg even better an actor falling in love with some sort of stage crew, lighting, camera person............SPICY! 

a beauty / makeup youtube influencer and a pranking rant gaming sort of youtuber and they have to collab and hate it points if its gay

that cliche plot where ur friends older brother is hot

ok kstew / naomi scott .....that is such.....a wave

UGLY BETTY PLOT BITCH!!!!!! REVERSE THE ROLES OR MAKE IT GAY

i saw this gifset of margo robbie and michael b jordan talking abt how they are eachothers celebrity crush and it got my brain turning 

a very whimsical hopeless romantic artist who finds a muse in a no nonsense american college student studying law studying abroad

PERCY JACKSON BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE HUNGER GAMES BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

business man/prodigal son who falls in love with a stripper/escort

harry potter......next gen................please.............scorose............but like can i play ravenclaw soft boy nothing like draco scorpio BUT ALSO ALL THE HP i also really like ocs also BEAUXBATONS DRUMSTRANG ( if anyone wants to help me w a not hogwarts but other wizarding school rp let me know )

not to b cliche but uh....pastors son bad boy plot yes!

alternatively bad girl good boy/girl plot yes! ( can i pls play bad girl seulgi its Dire )

horror until dawn stuff

soul eater? death note? OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB BITCH!!!! ANIME!

the epically cliche popular person failing math and is gonna get kicked off cheer gets tutored by biggest loser in school and only agrees to tutor her in math if she teaches them how to be cool to impress crush (popular persons friend) and they do that, they start to bond, she gives nerd a makeover the whole school falls in love with them and the popular girls real jealous and wHEw

a disgruntled detective whos wife cheated on him with his partner and he drinks everyday (also could b a lady) throws himself into work and this waitress at the diner he works at who is the opposite of him and very sunshiney

OKAY HANNIBAL but like the hannibal is a lady!

superhero x villian plot! spicy maybe theyre exes! or they went to the same super power school? 

SPEAKING OF SUPERHEROS I WANT A MIRACULOUS LADYBUG PLOT RIGHT FUCKING NOW SOMEONE PLAY CHOU TZUYU AS MARINETTE!!!!!!!!!

also every disney plot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i think this will get added to but for now this is the gist HIT ME THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!

[knoxhq]

► ( rudy pankow & cis male ) according to the school’s records, knox drury is a 22-YEAR-OLD senior studying political science, and he lives over in moriarty. he is a gemini, so that must be why others describe him as dignified, humorous, cowardly and naive. when i see him, i’m reminded of walking into class an hour late with sunglasses on, the feeling of anticipation as you wait for a firework to fully blossom, the sound of party music leaking through the walls of a bathroom. ( gibby, 20, they/them, est. ) ◄

hello everyone !! so i won’t even lie to u guys, i am NERVOUS and it’s literally only bc this is the first group i’ve joined in so long like dfdhkjsfjad the last group i was in was almost a year ago but i ended up having to leave due to personal reasons and didn’t get to write so like !!! idk i’m excited !! anyways w that in mind, pls bARE with me bc i have like one (1) braincell and i forgot how to write intros. anyways enough of me rambling, lemme give you knox !!

also this is a bad intro pls dont judge me im trying 2 like. rewrite what i had b4 the storm took it out n like, i lost the braincell

basics. 

full name: knox hale drury.

nicknames: drury.

age: twenty two.

gender and pronouns: cis male and he/him

sexual & romantic orientations: bisexual, biromantic, femme leaning.

major: political science.

housing: moriarty.

backstory.

triggers: implied bullying, police and incarceration ( dw i didn’t make him jj 2.0 ).

nobody gets to pick their beginnings. it’s something that people tell knox all the time, hell, it’s plastered in every stupid coming of age movie, book, film, everything he’s ever seen. you don’t pick who your born into, you don’t pick who you get to be. and to an extent, he does think that this is true but he can’t help but wonder if maybe, if people could pick, if they’d pick differently. because he knows he certainly would pick differently.

it’s not that he even came from a bad home - hell no, he had the most loving family ever. his mother was a saint, a warm sensation bubbling up in his chest when he thinks about her warm cookies or the way she tried to still tuck him in even as a teenager. his father had his flaws, we all do, but he was a good and honest man. hardworking, he showed knox what that stupid american dream is that everyone likes to preach about. 

no, it had nothing to do with them but rather the overall opinion on him and his family. see, the drury’s weren’t well liked - they were seen as lowlives and as shady, the kind of people who you’d only go to if you wanted to get stabbed in the back. generations of drury’s fit this narrative but no, his father was determined to change that. and so was he, even if nobody around him seemed to want to give him a chance. 

knox would go throughout school with this name attached to him like a dagger to his throat - whisperings in the hallway of, “oh, my mom said the drury boy might be steal things if you let him over,” and other random, rude remarks. of course, the people that get close to him know better - they see him for who he really is.

that person is knox. he’s a golden light, often more selfless than the rich pricks who run that small town. he’d give his jacket or umbrella to people even if they didn’t ask if it just so happened to be raining outside, and despite the fact that his family didn’t have a lot, he’d still go out of his way to try to give when he could. 

he eventually graduated high school - one of the top people in his class due to his father’s encouragement, and after a lot of debate, settled on attending haddon university - miles away from that sweet, small little hometown he knew, but a fresh start where he didn’t have to work for anything. he could just go in being him, with nobody attaching a new narrative to him. it was what he wanted, what he dreamed of.

and he loved it. his first semester there was memorable as he found himself surrounded by new friends and people he even considered family. back home, however, things were slipping.

the drury family was never rich, ever by any means, but business was low. nobody wanted to go there, fearing that his father was just as shady as his grandfather. as things got worse, his father had to resort to other needs - stealing, lying about taxes, and doing everything he could to try to make it by. 

it finally caught up to him when knox came home for spring break - red and blue lights flashing outside as loud noises went on throughout the house, until finally someone swung knox’s door open and briefly blinded him with a flashlight, demanding to know where his father was. by the time knox got a grasp on the situation, his father was being rushed off in the back of a cop car. 

he plead guilty almost immediately and for the next few months, knox did school from home to stay with his mother. it was then that he switched his major from what had initially been just a vague, business degree to political science in hopes of going into law after getting that degree - a way of changing things, of helping people so they never got to that point. 

for now though, he’s gone back to haddon’s campus where he study’s away and occasionally finds himself slipping and partying, glasses always covering his eyes as he slinks back class, getting almost nO sleep every night.

study.

so i need u to know right now... knox is baby, FDSHJDFSHAJK

like he’s not by any means like he’s kinda a gross dude like, absolutely randomly burps n is like lol oops n shit, very little manners, will grab clothes off of the floor to put them on kind of man BUT LIKE as a whole ?? he means very well FDSJFAHJ he’s very gentle and will sit there and admire flowers on a bush and then get mad if u pick one bc ur hurting it like. he’s baby.

he also is very loyal to the ppl he’s friends w tbh like. damn he will never leave ur side

that also makes him kinda... super, actually, naive. you see, while knox is incredibly loyal, he often finds himself ignoring signs of toxicity for the sake of preserving a friendship - he fights for people who won’t fight for him, he lets people back in too easily, he just. he sees the good in everyone, even if there isn’t any good.

regardless, he’s not easy to just... manipulate to an extent. while he’ll fall for you being innocent, you can’t ever try to make him think he’s something he’s not - he knows his intentions and he knows they’re usually pure and he’s not gonna fold for anyone if it comes down to him or them. 

bt like again he’s baby

like i dont think he ever gets mad but damn when he does its probs scary as shit like bc he nEVER gets mad !!! hes like. a golden retriever ig

if u cannot tell im trying really hard not to make him too much like jj bc i realize that might be a big thing ppl do n i dont think jj is baby bt like. knox? knox is baby DSFHJKFDHKJ 

he’s just. idk. he’s very protective and cares about his friends a lot and will walk you home even if you went to HIS place and like is always ready to give you a jacket if it’s raining and he’s just lowkey a big, kinda dumb at times, teddy bear and i think that’s valid tyvm 

wanted connections.

friends. — please. knox will lOVE ur muses just let him be their friend tyvm plus he’s a bit of a social butterfly now and i think he’d honestly have a lot of friends.

best friend. — i’m gonna keep this to one muse bc idk i think it’d be really cute if knox got to have his own like, ride or die where they care abt him as much as he cares about them and they’re always there for each other and like !!! that’s cute !!! also found family trope bc i think that is.. again, kyoot, ty

frienemies. — so these are always like, super fun to plot out and i think there’s a lot to work w here... like give me ppl who are happy that knox is loyal and would defend them but would push knox to the side n not do the same for him... also friendships where knox fucked up ?? where knox, despite his goodness, couldn’t keep his mouth shut and revealed a secret to their friend group bc u see he can kinda be a gossip fsjfdaskj. idk there’s a lot u can do n i’d love to brainstorm!

enemies. — pls. like. we can brainstorm this too so i dont just ramble but pLEASE?? please.

flings. — honestly romantic ships are not the point of rps but romantic flings and stuff can be really fun to plot and i love getting soft about them so like ?? idk dude lets fling it up n have muses date for two weeks n then break up like thats swexi, dramatic, 10/10

exes. — i mean this is kind of like flings but i have an idea... give me an ex of knox’s who really was like. everything knox wanted. hell, the two had a really good relationship - they were in love and etc etc gushy details but they ended up breaking up bc they just. they weren’t meant to be! as sad as it is like it was as simple as that! and then the angst comes in after they break up bc god they still love each other so much but they just aren’t meant to be and they see them with other people and oh it just hurts but like, bonus points if they manage to become good friends even after this !! (sidenote, idk i wouldn’t want this to be a full ship tht gets back together bc idk i think there’s a bittersweetness in stuff like this n its just. like. its ok !!! idk !!! )

roommates. — and they were roomates- fdshjkfdsahjk

other things. — honestly these are half assed plots but i’m down for anything !!! i’m still fleshing out knox a lil too bc i really did make him on the spot so pls bare w me :)

[bapyess1r]

Sunny Daze

WARNINGS: cursing

Pairings: Sam x OC, Rafe x OC

Author’s Note: sorry if I don’t get all the details correct but I’m really excited to be writing this XD I have such plans for Sam and Sunny and it deserves to take some time 😭💖 pls enjoy!

Chapter 4

Sunny’s POV

I sat in the bathroom stall, pulling up the blueprints of the estate and pointed out the ventilation system. “The vents’ll only take you but so far, Natey. You’re gonna have to figure some shit out. Maybe climb a little on the outside to get in.” I noted in a hushed tone.

‘Of course. Because easy would be too cliche.’ I heard him joke.

“You’ll have to cut through the cellar. Ten minutes on the clock, bub. Get goin’.” I smiled as I tucked my handheld back into my clutch.

‘You’re the best.’

“Yeah, Yeah…” I smirked before flushing the toilet to make some noise and exiting the stall.

I looked in the bathroom mirror, touching up my makeup and holding small talk with the other women present. I got many compliments on my dress and all I could do was thank them, bragging about how Rafe Adler bought the dress for me to appease their ears. As I left, satisfied with the way I looked, I bumped into what I thought was a wall. The soft pair of hands told me otherwise. When I looked up my eyes met with a beautiful woman. ‘Aaand I’m gay…’ I thought as a blush spread across my cheeks. She had soft curly hair, brown skin, light eyes and high cheekbones with a sophisticated mole just above her curved lips. She had a few scars but it didn’t take away from her beauty one bit. As I grabbed onto her shoulders to steady myself, I was shaken by the structure of her arms. ‘I’m really gay…’. And when she smiled politely, I truly thought that I would just die. “Are you alright?” She asked me with an accent I couldn’t place. Whatever it was, it sat right in my spirit and sounded like music. I felt my face heat up as I pulled away from her.

“Yes! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you like that.” I said, clutching the life out of my purse, truly taken aback by this wonderful lady and her athletic build behind a red blouse and dress pants with a simple pair of sensible heels. She shot me a heart wrenching smile and I couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot. To avoid further embarrassment, I continued my way to Rafe. “Enjoy the rest of your evening!” I called to her in a voice very unnatural to my own. “Holy shit…” I mumbled as I made my way to the ice sculpture, surrounded by glasses of champagne. I knew things were about to go down so I opted to make it my last glass. I sipped it slowly.

‘Dammit! It’s locked…’ I heard Sully say in my ear.

“What’s locked?” I asked, changing my course and heading to the emptiest balcony. I heard Nate sigh.

‘I thought you propped it open! Can we pick it?’ I heard Sam say. And like a bunch of children, the three began to bicker. I rolled my eyes, listening as they did when they abruptly stopped conversation.

“Boys?” I asked, looking around briefly.

‘Did you see that? Back left pocket.’ Sully murmured.

“What’s happening?” I asked, sipping my champagne.

‘Doors locked electronically, we’re gonna lift a key card. Standby.’ Sam informed me. I huffed as I crept back into the ballroom to watch their backs, stealthily avoiding Rafe as best as I could. I listened to the Drake brothers bicker in my ear about who was gonna do the lift when they decided to “run it like the old days.” Yet even with Sam’s distraction, the waiter they tailed kept moving. I rolled my eyes as I watched them struggle and decided to get it done myself. I scanned the room for a waiter and one just happened to exit from a room down the hall. I watched as she put the key card in her front pocket and smirked as I made my way towards her. I succeeded in one try with a classic bump and lift technique, quickly tucking the key under the back of my wig with a slick smirk. I weaved my way through the people to meet Nathan and Sam as they watched the waiter again for another try as they continued to mock each other.

“Oh boys. You take entirely too long.” I mumbled to them as I walked by, pulling the key from my wig to flash it to them on the low and slipped it into Nathan’s breast pocket. Sam caught my gaze and raised an eyebrow, flexing his lower lip with impression as I walked to the bar to join Rafe.

‘I could’ve handled it…’ Nathan mumbled.

‘Right. Of course you could.’ Sam replied. I reached the bar and placed a hand on his shoulder with a smile. He slipped his arm around my waist, resting a hand on my hip and pulling me close.

“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” He whispered to me.

“Just touching up my makeup! Girl stuff!” I told him. I gave him a lot of half truths all night and he believed every word.

‘Alright we’re in.’ I heard Nathan say.

‘Make it quick, boys.’ Sully told them. And so the plan started. ‘I’ll grab ya when it goes dark, Sunny.’ I couldn’t respond but I got the message.

I stayed with Rafe as he entertained a bunch of rich old white men, their wives absolutely enchanted by his handsome looks and charisma. All the while he kept his hands on me. I would hook my arm with his, daintily caressing his arm as I sipped my drink while he talked. After a while it got old. He began to sound like a game show host. I stood for about two or three minutes listening to him make terrible jokes in his stories. And because of his status, everyone laughed to validate him. ‘Hurry the hell up, boys. This man is literally killing me…’ I thought as Rafe looked behind me. I shot my glance to where he did and my stomach flipped. He had spotted Sully, chatting to a familiar looking figure. “See someone you know?” I asked, playing off my slight nervousness.

“Yeah. An old friend…” he replied, gritting his teeth. “If he’s around, trouble isn’t far behind… Let’s go give him a little greeting, shall we?” Something didn’t sit right with me when he said that. But I smiled and followed him anyway. As we made our way over, I noticed Sam had already secured a uniform and was slowly making his way through the crowd with a platter of champagne. When he caught my eyes he winked at me. ‘Thank God…’ I thought. This would all be over soon. I could hear Sully’s conversation with the woman he called Nadine. She asked about Nathan and he sighed, feigning ignorance.

“I’ve been flying solo for a while now. Drake’s out!” He said, taking a sip of his scotch.

“Oh! You mean like… ‘dead’ out?” I heard the woman’s voice and as we approached I noticed it was that woman I ran into earlier. My chest tightened as Rafe put on a smile.

“Nah, no! Last I heard he settled down and got married.” He took a puff of his cigar and his expression faltered a bit when he noticed me. And Rafe rolled straight into the conversation.

“Well then he might as well be dead, right?” He chuckled. “Victor Sullivan! How the hell are you?” He stuck his hand out and they shared a strong handshake.

“Rafe.” He said, with a polite smile.

“How long has it been? Ten years? Twelve?”

“Fifteen.” Sully grumbled.

“It’s amazing. Here we are, all these years gone by and we’re still haggling over dead people’s junk.” Rafe said with a chuckle.

“Really? Aren’t you running your parents business?” He asked. I fought off a snicker at his petty comment. I could tell it irritated Rafe and he immediately began to act like a baby about it. Complete contrast from how he’d been all night. The woman Nadine and I shared a similar expression of annoyance.

“It’s my business now.” He said darkly before changing his tone. “But yes that is my day job.”

“Well that’s one helluva day job. You could probably afford everything on the block tonight.” Sully continued.

“Well sure… but what would be the point in that? Nowadays I’m only looking for the uh….good stuff… The big score.” He nodded. The way he looked at him, I could tell he was already getting suspicious. “Any advice on what I should be picking up tonight?” He asked, taking a sip of his champagne.

“Yeah. Like I wanna bid against him.” He said sarcastically in both Nadine and I’s direction. We both chuckled. Sully was still charming as ever even in the face of adversity. Then he leaned in towards Rafe. “Just between you and me, I did notice they changed the order. I think somebody may be trying to rig this auction.”

“Hmm. Well remember where we are. This crowd didn’t get rich by playing fair.” He responded, his thumb steadily rubbing against my waist.

“Which is why you really need someone watching your back in a place like this…” Nadine chimed in, slowly making her way to Rafe’s side. I tried not to be offended but I was definitely getting some weird vibes between them as he looked at her with the same charming smile he’d been giving me. Sully was also putting two and two together.

“Ah, well I do hate to break it to ya, but you are working for an American.” He commented.

“With. We’ve partnered up on this one.” She responded, taking a sip of her scotch. I downed the rest of my champagne to hide my facial expressions. I knew they were showing plain as day.

“I see. Talk about a power couple.” He chuckled.

“Hey now! Not in front of my date- which my apologies, sweetheart, how rude of me.” He finally brought attention to me in all of this. “Victor Sullivan. Meet Sunny Spurrs. One of the brightest young ladies I’ve come across.” He said with what seemed like a genuine compliment. ‘When in doubt, act like we don’t know each other.’ Words of advice from him long ago began to ring and I smiled brightly, sticking my hand out to shake and he kissed my knuckles.

“Pleasure. Where’d you pick up a girl like this, Rafe?” He joked.

“I have my ways.” He smirked, looking at me with those green eyes and pulling me close. Just as Sully fixed his mouth to reply with what I’m sure would’ve been another hilariously shady comment, the auctioneer’s accented voice came through the speakers.

“In a few moments, we will begin bidding for the next item… an inlaid wooden crucifix from the Trott estate.” She announced. As we locked eyes briefly, Sully took a deep breath, knowing it was time to make himself scarce.

“Welp! I know when I’m third wheel- or fourth in your case. You kids have fun tonight-” he began to turn and walk away but Rafe let go of me and halted him, grabbing onto his elbow.

“Just hold on, Sully…” He said darkly. ‘Shit.’ I thought, internally panicking. “How’d you find out about it?”

“‘It’? And what ‘It’ is that, Rafe?” Sully retorted with a similar level of seriousness. I pursued my lips together and took a single step back from their brewing altercation. “Nadine, I think your partner here has had one too many Bloody Marys-”

“Cut the bullshit, old man!” Rafe exclaimed, slapping Sully’s glass from his hands. I jumped a bit as I watched it shatter on the marbled floor, people nearby turning their attention to our little group to watch the scene play out. He eased up to him, poking an accusatory finger in his chest. “Now I don’t know how you scammed your way in here, but if you even so much as think about bidding on Avery’s cross, I can tell you how you’re gonna be leaving here. In a god damn body bag-”

“Rafe!” Nadine snapped, bringing his attention to the gazing eyes of those around us. I carefully approached him and placed a comforting hand on his back, hoping it would calm him some. He took a deep breath and squeezed Sully’s shoulder with a nervous chuckle before brushing off the wrinkles on the old man’s suit.

“Well… you get the gist.” Rafe said with a hint of warning, wrapping his arm around me. He tapped his fingers on my hip like a nervous twitch and I placed my hand over his own. He brought his gaze to me and took a deep breath, trying to get over being so worked up. Sully just just grunted and took a puff of his cigar.

“Lovely seeing you both. Ms. Spurrs, you enjoy your evening.” He said to me with a hint of warning, only detected by me and we split off into our respective parties. I was beginning to worry. Had something happened to him? The clock was ticking now and we still hadn’t heard a word from Nathan.

‘Nate… Nate?! Goddamn it, kid, where the hell are you?’ I heard Sully say in my ears. I waited to hear his voice but got nothing.

‘We’re running outta time, little brother…’ I heard Sam add hastily after a few minutes of his silence.

I followed Rafe to the table where bidders received their panels and he kissed my hand. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Why don’t you head over to the bar and relax. I’ll meet you once I’m done here.” He told me. And I gave him a hug. Bro seemed like he needed one. “You know… I’ve been trying to behave all night. Trying to resist the urge to kiss those beautiful lips of yours…” he said lowly, caressing my cheek. I wanted to throw up. But the expression in my eyes never faltered as I looked at him. I kissed him on his cheek and wiped off the stain with my thumb.

“Perhaps later… Mr. Adler. When there aren’t so many eyes.” I whispered suggestively and his grip tightened on my waist.

“Absolutely…” he growled. And I slipped away to the back of the ballroom, out of sight. My job was done. I could finally cringe in peace.

“Jesus H, it’s a fucking miracle he let me go anywhere.” I grumbled. I could hear Sam’s faint chuckle on the coms.

‘Where are you now, Sunny?’ I heard Sully ask.

“By the bar.” I replied.

‘Get as close as you can to the exit without being suspicious.’ He ordered and I confirmed his order, walking to the extravagantly large doorway and leaning into its frame. Suddenly, Nathan’s voice came through the coms and I felt a massive wave of relief.

‘Sam? Sully? Sunny? You guys still there?’ I heard him say. ‘I made it to the breaker room.’

“Oh, thank god. The sooner this is over, the better.” I exclaimed in a hushed tone.

‘God damn, kid! What took you so long?’ Sully hissed.

‘Yes, I’m fine and I’m alive. Thanks for asking.’ Nate began sarcastically. ‘I had a few close calls but I made it.’

‘Yeah, well if you’re gonna cut the power, now would be a good time to do it.’ Sully replied.

‘Yeah well I’m gonna need a minute to get into the breaker panel, it’s locked.’ He said with a grunt.

“You don’t have a minute, Natey. Rafe is about to walk outta here with that cross.” I said.

‘He’s the highest bidder so far.’ Sam’s voice came through the coms in a rough tone.

‘Then outbid him!’ Nate said as I heard him rumble through some things.

‘With what? I don’t have that kinda scratch!’ Sully was beginning to sound as worried as me.

‘You do realize we’re stealing this cross right?’ Nathan told him.

‘What if he calls my bluff?’ I watched Sully from a distance as he scratched his mustache nervously.

“I don’t think he will.” I said, making what could’ve been a bad judgement call but we needed to buy my best friend some time to get into that panel.

“We have an offer at 90,000 euros. Is there another offer in the room?” I heard the auctioneer say.

‘Guys, if we do not get this cross, I am as good as dead.’ Sam muttered.

‘And if I end up with the highest bid, then we’re all dead!’ Sully rebuttals.

‘Sully, I need you to buy me more time.’ Nathan said with the utmost urgency.

‘You kids better be right about this…’ he grumbled as the auctioneer started to finalize the bid.

“Do it, Sully.” I said, covering my mouth with my fist as intently watched the bid take place.

‘Ah, screw it.’ I looked over at Sully as he raised his panel and the auctioneer stopped the finalization.

“Benè! We are now at 100,000 euros. Do I hear another offer in the room?” Just before the auctioneer could finish her sentence, Rafe’s panel was raised. He stared at the old man brimming with annoyance. I watched them battle it out to 190,000 euros. I underestimated just how wealthy Rafe actually was.

‘Hey man, I’m starting’ to sweat bullets here-’ Sam rushed in a panicky voice.

‘I’m in! You guys ready?’ Nathan asked.

‘As I’ll ever be. Sunny?’ Sam asked.

“We got one chance guys, let’s get this done.” I said with a small smirk as the adrenaline began to surge in me. “Sully?”

‘One second.’ He chuckled before raising the panel again, just to piss Rafe off a little more. I chuckled to myself as I watched Rafe ball his fists like a child on punishment.

“500,000! Let’s get this show on the road!” He shouted impatiently.

“Um… very well. We have 500,000 euros in the room. Does the gentleman wish to bid again?” The auctioneer asked and the entire room looked in his direction. I tried my best to fight off the laughter at Rafe’s expression, all tuned up like a burnt weenie. Sully gestured to him that the bid was all his.

“You had me worried there for a minute, Victor. I thought I was gonna have to kill ya!” He remarked and the room around them laughed. Sully gave a fake chuckle and put his cigar to his lips.

‘Okay… Let’s ruin this asshole’s evening.’ He said.

“Let’s.” I smiled, ready to go.

“500,000 going once….. going twice…. and the crucifix has been sold for 500,000 euros-” and just like that the lights went out. By the time the backup generator came on, the crucifix was gone from the stand and Sam was out of sight.

I stood in my corner as Sully made his way over to me, swiftly grabbing my arm to leave a Rafe made a scene.

“They’re gonna need a getaway. Let’s get to the car.” He told me as we picked up the pace and left the estate.

[bugaboowritings]

How Animan Worked Out (With Masc!Mari) Fic

Nino has a fat man-crush on Mari. 

Made it gay thanks to @knoxursoxoffpenwriter69. 

At this point, I think I want to rewrite episodes with Masc!Mari. It’s a nice task and good exercise to make me more creative with set ending. Plus, it’s fun to put my own twist on things. Also I used ‘american’ terms for the school system since it’s easier to understand, but if you know what is what in french please do tell me. 

Masc!Mari is an AU created by @daloochsdoodles. 

“Sorry, Alya.” Mari grimaced, swinging his locker closed. “I have to babysit that day. Even if Manon gets picked up early, it takes me a good day to a week to bounce back.” Shivering as he thought about the glitter incident. A nightmare that he still can't forget.

Alya hummed in agreeance. “She’s truly a wild card." Pressing her lips together like she always did when she had a counter-argument. "Buuuuutttt- try having two Manon’s living with you 24/7.” Alya stomped her feet and made her best “baby-doll eyes” impression. “But Mari, pleaseeee! Hang out with your best friend before we become old and grey and regret missing out on the good old days.”

Mari gave her a blank stare. Informing her that she wasn’t winning this battle. Alya signed in defeat. “Okay, are you at least free to get lunch?”

“I can always open my schedule up for food.” He confessed. Making Alya roll her eyes and push him back playfully. Only to stop laughing when he missed his footing and tip back a little too far. Alya’s face suddenly switches from joy to pure horror. Happening all in slow-motion as Mari felt his soul leave his body. Prepared to feel his back land on the cold floor. Panicking, even more, the moment Mari felt someone’s shoulders with against his. Dragging an innocent soul to his clumsy doom.

“MARI! Oh my god!” Alya rushed to her knees picking up the papers that went flying up in the air as a loud smack hit the floor. Watching her best friend went on autopilot. Spitting out apologies like they were hot coal in his mouth. Mari’s face burned up with embarrassment.

“I’m so so so so sorry- I didn’t mean to. Gosh, my luck isn’t the best. I’m so sorry about this, here let me help you-” He stammered, quickly scooping up the loose-leaf paper on the floor.

“It’s fine. Really.” The other person mumbled, shoving everything in their backpack. Keeping his voice low to make less of a scene. “You don’t have to worry much, rea- Mars?”

Mari broke their neck at that. He hasn’t heard anyone call him “Mars” in some years. It was an old nickname that he picked up when he was a planet in a school play. Playing the planet “Mars” and singing a song about its carbon dioxide atmosphere. Cringing when he thought back at it. His performance was so memorable that his whole class started renamed him after his character.

“Uh- Nino?” Mari questioned back before getting a nod from him.

“Wow, Nino. It’s good to see you again!” Mari beamed. Standing up now to his full height. Looking back at Nino before handing off his work. “I haven’t seen you in like- forever.”

Nino admitted the same thing. Not helping himself as he gawked at Mari’s height. Normal reaction after meeting a friend that doubled in size since middle school.

“I’m sorry, again.” Mari shyly smiled, looking around for any more lost papers. Tensely itching the back of his neck.

“No! No-no problem.” Nino jumped. Hiding the red that appeared on his face with his cap. “We’ll all good, really dude.” Bring another sunny grin to Mari’s face.

Coughing to bring their attention to her. “Then that means you forgive us making you almost making you lose your report, Turtles, the Best Pal of The Sea,” Alya judged, raising her well-groomed brows at that title.

"If you're going to bullshit your essay, spice it up."

“Alya.” Mari shushed, receiving her “what” face. Shrugging off her friend's looks before handing it to Nino who said,

“It’s a report for Mr. Malume. He said to write an essay that 'fun or meaningfully'. I wrote it last minute and Noel had 'Finding Nemo' on repeat the whole day- yesterday so I guess that 'inspired' me.”

Alya couldn’t help the chuckle that came up from her throat. Mari snorted.

“Hope it goes well then.” Already turning around before saying, “I’m Alya by the way. Mari’s best friend.” She held out her hand for Nino to shake. “A.k.a. the editor of the Ladyblog and lover of muffins.” Ignoring Mari’s eye roll as she shameless plugged in her blog.

“Sorry to cut our time short, Nino, but I was promised lunch by a friend.” She hinted, motioning Mari to follow her lead.  

“You know where the bakery is at right?” Mari asked. Letting Alya go-ahead to their usual spot.

“The best bakery in Paris?" Nino praised, slinking his bag around his shoulders. "Couldn’t forget it.”

“Great. Then you should totally come by.” Mari trailed off. Walking backward before shooting him a wink. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Leaving the DJ alone by his thoughts and shit essay as Mari caught up with Alya, who had a sudden craving for some fries.

----------

Sipping the last drop of her smoothie with her chewed straw, Alya finally asked the question that bubbled in her mind. "So Nino and you have a long history then?"

"We were friends back when we were like eight or twelve or something." Mari closed the white kitchen cabinet. Letting his hand rest on the handle as the other pulled out two bowls for their ice creams.

"God, it's been too long." He mumbled, tugging on his lip, in deep thought about the last time he had a proper conversation with Nino. Not noticing Alya sucking the air out of her cup like she was a fish out of water.

"I haven't spoken to him after I started my tr- actually that's a lie. We spoke at a school assembly! Granted it was a 'hello' and 'good-bye'. . ." Mari thought back to his old memories with Nino. They were the same classes for some years. Up until the beginning of high school is when they quit having lessons together.

"Ah," Alya hushed. "Tea?" She smirked.

"Shush Alya." Throwing a metal spoon he drew from the kitchen drawers. "Don’t make it seem like we ended on bad terms." Not stopping the reporter's stupid grin as she only giggled some more.

-------

The bakery’s bell jingled as Nino pushed opened the front door. The scent of baked goods calmed his nerves. Relieving him since the whole walk there was a hot mess. Nino tried prepping himself mentally to not freak out or mess up his words since he planned to hang out with Mari the whole day. SO he had to try his best to not become a total mess-

"Nino!" Mari greeted, looking up from the counter. Swiftly wiping his hands on his apron then sweeping back his messy hair. 

OH NO, HE’S HOT! 

I’m a total mess, Nino acknowledged as his palms grew sweaty. 

 "I didn't expect to see you.” Quickly adding, "-this early, I mean. Most people I know aren't really morning people." Mari explained, not noticing how Nino awkwardly smiled back. Fatigue seemed to trickle off Mari’s face once he saw his friend. Showing off a toothy grin. 

Which made Nino crossed between relaxed and hella nervous (which should have to cancel out, but those two emotions just wrestled in the pit of his stomach) as Mari’s eyes stopped the words from coming out of Nino’s throat. Mari could bring anyone to ease with one of his smiles, but there was something about his eyes that made people sweat and burn. Nino's face composes a thin smile, nodding to whatever Mari was rambling on.

"-breakfast then. Right, Nino?"

"What?" Nino slapped himself mentally. Excusing himself and asking Mari to repeat himself.  Already praying for an Akuma attack to save him from this moment.

"Do you want anything?" Mari nodded toward the pastries which were fresh from the oven. Still warm from toasting to a golden brown.

"It's my treat."

"I have to clean up before we can go out so you have something as you wait." Already pulling a clean plate by the counter. Motioning to the glass display between them for Nino to take a look. 

Nino wanted to say that he didn't want anything, but his brain didn't like the idea that Mari could possibly take offense for denying a free pastry. Or then like him less. Which could make Mari not want to hang out or maybe even be his friend. Nino's adolescent mind could write novels using the outrageous scenarios it made up on the spot. It wasn't until he met Mari's eyes again. Which like a wave, brought him back to ease.

"The chocolate croissants are calling my name." He hummed. Causing Mari to chuckle.

Okay, maybe this isn't so bad, Nino thought. Returning Mari’s bright smile. 

----

Mari slurped the last drop of his slushie. "How did you know about the panther? I came here like, not even last week and didn't even see ANY of this!" Throwing his hands up to motioning all the panther posters. Holding up his drink to prove his point. "They even had themed-food! Granted, it's just a different cup but still!!" Mari's enthusiasm gradually rubbed off to Nino, who couldn't help to laugh at Mari's reaction to everything. It was like watching a little kid gush about an amusement park. Making him feel like time hasn't passed between them. As if they were eleven again. Mari surely had that part down since he acted like it.

"Mari!"

Nino and Mari both turned to see two guys their age walking towards them. Turns out it's Max and Kim. Max waves as Kim raised his arm in salutation.

"Yo, Mari! Nino!"

"Hey, Kim, Max; what are you doing here?"

Kim gave a smug grin."We heard the new panther's here. I wanna see who's get the bigger guns!"

Kim shamelessly flexed his arms before getting a comical eye-roll from Max. Nino heard Mari whisper under his breath if he was the only one that didn't know about the panther. Not helping the chuckle that slipped his lips. Earning him a light elbow jag from Mari.

"Do you want to come with us?" Max promptly asked.

Nino stopped the panic from dripping into his words. "We were actually on our way to see it. . ." Nino trailed off. The whole point was to get close to Mari, not with the boys. Nino was already cooking up a plan to get out of this mess.

"Cool!" Kim grinned. "We can just head there together!" Throwing his arms over Nino and Mari, pulling them to the panther enclosure. All without a second thought.

--------

Otis, the panther's care keeper, slid a metal dish covered in raw meat at the foot of a tree. Watching the black feline gracefully leap down from its playground to this meal. Otis rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought before scribbling something down in his notes. Flipping thought them before marking some charts and - then messing up a whole page with his blue pen in shock. Scorning the source of the sound that spooked him and the panther. Not to his surprise, it was a child banging on the glass. However, not any child but a teen with nonsense for brains.

"Whoa! Look at the size of that piece of meat it's eating!"

"Kim, don't hit the glass like that!" Mari barked, bothered by his actions. Kim didn't budge from his spot as he gawked at the black cat. Nino watched Max suddenly type something in his phone before informing them more about the panther.

Dropping another fact, "It's a typical diet for this feline species since it requires the strength to run at speeds in excess of 60 miles per hour." Looking up from his screen to see the panther himself. Moving closer to the cage in awe. "So it needs quite the amount of calories."

Everyone nodding to that as they watched the wild animal rip up its lunch in smaller pieces. All as if it was an episode of Animal Planet in front of their eyes.

Of course, Kim had to ruin the tranquil moment.

"60 miles per hour? Is that all? I could have sworn panthers were much faster than that." Bending his legs in some simple stretches like the ones he did before a swim or a race.

"I bet that I could beat it in a race."

Squishing his face on the glass screen again. Cooing at the panther. "Hey, kitty, kitty. How about a little race with me, huh? Last one's a rotten egg!"

"Kim, calm down."

"Cocky, are we?"

"With a 6 feet-per-second wind behind you and 45 degrees to the north-east... I don't think you'd be a rotten egg. You'd be lunch."

"Not another challenge, please."

The group reasoned with Kim to stop provoking the animal. Which grew more aggravated every minute Kim stood there. Knocking it in his head that they WEREN'T here to do that. Not noticing the growing frown on the zoo keeper's face. Hushing curses as Otis jingled his keys to find the right one to the door.

"Kim, have some sense and leave the animal alone." Mari snapped. Flicking Kim's forehead. "You're making the panther growl and the zookeeper here is about to kick us out if you continue!"

Kim sighed, letting his shoulder slump down. "You guys are no fun." He huffed. Nodding his head towards another exhibit. Already leaving as he got his last remark in.

"Let's leave that poor widdle kitty alone with its babysitter!"

Followed by an ow as Mari kicked him.

-----

"Serious, you are no fun."

"Neither is this. Pass." Nino huffs. Dropping his outrageous dare before Kim could have the chance to change it.

"Rinnnngggg! There's the bell," Max held on to an imaginary microphone before commentating, "Nino has now lost his ability to reject this next truth or dare. If he still has the guts to say no then he gets the ultimate punishment. Care to explain it, Mr. Dupain Cheng?"

Mari held back their laughter. Holding on his own imaginary mic and his earpiece. Mustering up the best newscaster voice he had. "Thanks for that Mr. Kante. If Nino dares to reject this truth then he will have the chance to win a trip to clean Kim's gym locker for the next wee-"

"MARI!"

Confused to hear his name called out again, Mari turned around. Having the boys follow his actions until they came to view a pretty girl with glasses. Waving to Mari, who like a puppy-dog raced to her before excusing himself from his friends.

So long for alone time, Nino mumbled.

Kim, Max, and Nino watched as Mari hugged the girl. Both exchanging some words before the girl started to throw her hands around. They were a bit too far to hear what they were saying but by the looks, she had something important.

-----

"BIG! Not just the run of the mill story but it's BIGGER, Mari!" Alya exclaimed. Barely able to hold her excitement in. "The best part of it is that Nadja asked me directly! SHE WANTS ME on this STORY! She wanted ME to report on it!" Alya gushed, not believing that this isn't a dream, but reality!

"That's amazing!" Mari cheered. Feeling the high Alya was one as she screamed at him on how her dream was on the verge of coming true.

"RIGHT!" She huffed, throwing her hands around. Almost tossing up the bag she had in her hands. "I just knew that I had to tell you in person-Crappppppppppp." Losing her enthusiasm as she noticed the bag and the time on her watch.

"I have to go give my dad his lunch. I left the twins with Nora, so I have to split before things get out of control." Alya and Mari pulled each other in a hug before Alya dashed off to her father's office. 

"I'll call you!" Mari yelled. 

"Better." She replied. Not having to turn around for Mari to know that she still had her grin. 

-----

"Seriously, dude." Nino groaned. "Mari doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Well, who was that chick then?" Kim pushed on. Poking Nino's shoulder before brushing him off. "Mari has been a loner for like -ever! Why is he covered with ladies, now!?"

"If any girl that Mari talks is his girlfriend, then he's married to all of Paris then!"

"That's Alya Cesaire," Max pulled up her Instagram. "She's the editor of the Ladyblog and is the new girl from our school. She recently moved for her father's new job and her mother works at Le Grand Paris. Not to mention her sister is notorious kickboxer here. Getting the best seats at every match she fights in." 

Nino and Kim looked at Max with blank stares.

"What?"

"Max, how did you even-"

"She's tagged Mari in a lot of her pictures." He nonchalantly says. Before liking one of Alya's photographs. "Everything else is in her bio."

Before the boys could even say anything else, Mari came back running. Mumbling a 'sorry'. At that moment, Kim jumped the gun before Nino could try and shut him up.

"Dupain-Cheng," Kim smirked, wiggling his brows. "When were you going to tell us that you were off the market?" Slinking his arm around Mari's broad shoulders.

"What market?"

"Kim, just stop." Nino hissed now clearly annoyed. However, that made Kim more pushy the more he was told no.

"You know, the market." Wiggling his eyebrows more furiously. AS if that would help and make his point. Kim just looked like an idiot.

". . .What."

Max stepped in, "Kim thinks that Alya and you are an item." Double tapping on another picture.

Mari couldn't help but awkwardly laugh at that. "Bold of you to assume that I'm taken."  Shrugging off Kim's arm. "Alya and I are just close friends."

With that Nino sighed a breath of relief. Mumbling a 'thank god', slumping down to a nearby bench. Quickly losing the color from his face once again. He didn't say that out loud, did he? Looking back to his friends who looked back at him with a perplexed expression. Kim then broke the silence with a loud gasp. Max looked up from his phone, connecting the dots in his head. Mari's face grew a big grin.

Plotting his hand by Nino's head, Mari leaned in. Watching as Nino's blush grew bright and bright. Mari's nose scrunched up, a cute quirk he had for years, something he did when he was examining something thoughtfully. Mari's dark eyes narrowed making Nino sweat bullets.

"Nino, oh my god!" Mari exclaimed. "You have a crush!"

At that point, Nino had two options. Confess to him or play dumb. However, his knowledge of romance from soap operas told him to shout:

Yes, I do Mari. It is you that I care for.  I know we been through much and been away from each other for some years. However, that hasn't stopped the passion in my beating heart for you. You are still the Mari I know and care for. Please let's stay together as we developed our bromance. Let me be your rock. Let me be there when you have a rough day. Let me hug you and smell the flour and sugar on your sweatshirt after working a long day in the bakery. Dude, I would do it all for you. Just let me-

Nino decided to play dumb before his mouth spilled out a whole ballad.

"Whattttttttttt." Nino squawked. His voice was now higher than normal. "Whatchu mean?" Pulling his head back like a turtle going in his shell. "I don't have a crush on anyone."

"That's the biggest lie of the history of lies." Kim jumped. Swiftly pushing his way to Nino's face. "Luckily, we have a way to break liars here." He grinned.

"Nino Lahiffe, you own us a truth." Kim huffed. Crowded by three curious guys, Nino was in a position he wouldn't want anyone in. “Or you will be cleaning my gym locker after practice.” 

Nino frowned at that. “Why is that even the punishment? Can’t you easily do that?” 

“WE’RE ASKING THE QUESTIONS HERE!” Kim barked. Only to regain his stupid grin from before. Making the hair on Nino’s neck raise. He felt his weak knees buckling in place. His arms growing heavy as his stomach was rocked with his boundless anxiety. Mom's spaghetti    

"Do you like Alya?"

what.

 "What?"

"I mean the signs are all there. He got irritated whenever we were talking about Mari and Alya being a thing." Kim pressing the fingers in his hands as he went on. "He even told us to knock it off when we were thinking of ship names."

"Not to mention, he seemed pretty relieved to know that they were still single," Max noted, pushing up his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"Come on, guys," Nino reassured. Trying to play it cool. "You are just imagining things." Picking at his ear. Avoiding eye contact.

They were off by a mile, but they were getting too close for his liking. 

"He's totally is crushing on her." Kim smiled all smugged. "The denial  just proves it."

----------

Yeah, Lady Beetle knew it wasn't right, but he just couldn't help himself. He loved playing matchmaker and he felt like Andre, the Ice Cream Man, the moment he "protected" Nino and Alya from the Akuma attack by locking them together in the empty gorilla cage.

Ignoring Chat's stare as he evilly giggled to himself.

[hellimagines]

On the Run -- Tate Langdon

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: “Maybe u could do a tate imagine of you first entering the murder house? ik it’s a pretty basic idea but I’d like to differentiate from violet’s.” @crashprosticoot

Summary: You’re on the run from your family’s gang, and seek refuge in the infamous Murder House.

Warnings: None (i dont think)

Pairing: Tate Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,300+

A/N: This is pretty short and focuses around the reader first entering MH.

Your feet slammed against the asphalt of Westerchester Pl, the cold wind of the night whipping around your face. Every few seconds you would look over your shoulder, only to see the black Honda Civic at the end of the street racing closer and closer. Your legs burned and your heart hammered with raw adrenalin, but you couldn’t keep going. You were moments away from collapsing to a heap, and that would only result in your death, or worse, your capture. Quickly, you looked around you, hoping to find a guarded set of trees or an unoccupied home you could break into. However, all of the old-timey villas around you had cars parked outside or lights shining through kitchen and living room windows, and the street was bare of any resourceful vegetation.

The car behind you was approaching, and if you didn’t act quickly, they were going to catch you or discover your potential hiding spot. You pushed yourself further and faster, your lungs threatening to throw themselves out of your body at any given moment. Up ahead you knew there was a mansion, a home that had been unoccupied for years because of its history of horrors. Growing up in Los Angeles, you had been warned to stay away and off the property at whatever cost, regardless of threats or dares you may have received as a child. But now, with your life and freedom moments from being snatched away, all of those warnings left your mind.

Hurling yourself down the road, the large, rusty iron gates of Murder House came into view, beckoning and whispering a promise of protection. You threw yourself at the gate, trembling fingers gripping the metal to pull yourself up. Your shoes molded against the bars, pushing to help aid with your escape- until finally, you were toppling over the top of the gate and landing in a crumpled pile on the other side. You laid there for a moment, pushing away the pain of your fall, before stumbling to your feet and dashing towards the front door. Kneeling in front of the door, you pulled a bobby pin from your ponytail and began to shove it through the lock, only for the door to swing open the second you had touched the doorknob. As if pulled by an invisible force, you found yourself hurrying inside and slamming the door shut behind you, resting your aching back against the wood. Outside, you could hear the car race by, ignoring the house completely in its search for you.

Only when you could no longer hear the car’s engine or the shouts of its occupants, did you allow yourself to exhale and slide to the floor. Your breathing was shallow and ragged, your bloody fingers holding your aching ribs as you curled into yourself on the dusty ground. All you could hear was the sound of blood pumping in your ears and the ‘ah-hu’ of your panicked breaths. Black began to seep into your vision, dancing and luring you into a state of unconsciousness. Just as your eyes began to slip shut, a pair of maroon converse stepped out in front of you, but you no longer held enough energy to lift your head. You whimpered softly before grasping ahold of the darkness and allowing it to pull you in, your body falling limp as you finally let go.  

--

Hours later you slowly woke up, squinting at the harsh light peeking through a set of blinds. You looked around, expecting to find yourself on the foyer floor where you had promptly passed out. Instead, you discovered yourself on a plush bed, its greenish-grey comforter wrapped snugly around you and the lilac pillows fluffed underneath your head. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain that ricocheted through your body, while you observed the room. Books and records lined a shelf against the wall, while a desk sat to the side, covered in random items. The room seemed untouched but also lived-in, at the same time.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you stumbled to the door and creaked it open, looking down the vacant hallway. Easing yourself outside, you used the walls to support you through the home, carefully making your way down the stairs. You figured somebody had to be living here considering you had awoken in an entirely different place than you had fallen asleep at. So, once you made it back to the foyer, you tilted your head in an attempt to try and scope out any noises to help guide you towards a sign of life.

Click!

Your body tensed at the sudden noise and your feet began pulling you in the direction it had come from, leading you to an office-type living room. Inside stood a guy around your age, a cigarette held between his lips as he peered out the window. He was wearing a tight, black sweater, ripped jeans, and his feet were clad in a ratty pair of maroon converse.

“You,” you whispered, startling the boy in front of you. He turned around and you immediately noticed bullet holes covering his shirt, before you shifted your gaze up to his face. Woah, he’s really hot.

“You passed out in front of my door, so I uh… I brought you to my room. I hope you don’t mind,” the boy stumbled, looking into your (e/c) eyes with a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and curiosity.

You tilted your head to the side, awkwardly running your hand up your side to soothe your aching ribs. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Tate, I live here. Who are you?”

“I’m (Y/N). I thought this place was abandoned? You know, being called Murder House and all,” you said, waving your hand around vaguely.

Tate paused, “It is. I live here but I’m not… alive here.”

“You mean you’re dead?” You raised an eyebrow at his implication and crossed your arms, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from wincing.

“Yeah, I’m a ghost,” he sighed, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and snubbing it out on the wall. “Died in ‘94.”

“Is that why you’ve got bullet holes in your shirt?” You pointed to his shirt and laughed quietly.

Tate looked down at your comment, his lips twitching. “Yup, I got shot by an army of feds.”

The room fell silent for a moment after that, the two of you simply analyzing the other. Tate finally spoke again after a minute, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his hands. “Are you gonna stay?”

You were taken off guard by his question but thought it over in your head. The gang you had run from was still hot on your ass, no doubt about that; and you were still wanted by the police because of your gang-affiliated crimes. But, on the other hand, you didn’t have the money to pay for a house, let alone a mansion.

“I’m broke,” you settled on, biting your lip. “If I had the money, yeah, I would. I’m on the run and if I get caught I’ll be fucked. This is a good hiding spot. But-”

“Just don’t tell anyone. Nobody comes to check in on this place, we haven’t seen a living soul in years. There isn’t even a For Sale sign out front,” Tate explained, his voice teetering on the edge of desperation. He was begging for you to stay at the house, to stay with him.

“I…” you trailed off, looking into his blue eyes before you sighed. “Yeah, alright. I can stick around for a while. But I can’t guarantee forever.”

A grin spread across Tate’s face as he took a step closer. “That’s fine by me.”

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss @marvelismylifffe @bademliimagnum

American Horror Story Taglist (OPEN): @featherpool-852 @sophster1881

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Envy (Red Daughter Fic)

A/N: I just can’t get over that elevator scene, I had to write it.

She learns a new word when she comes to America.

Envy.

She looks it up later in the English dictionary Alex gave her. Envy, the well-worn book tells her, is the "painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another, joined with a desire to possess the same advantage".

She doesn't learn it immediately upon arriving in Kara Danvers's apartment. What she feels upon seeing the warm comfort of the spacious place -- grand and luxurious compared to the stark bareness of her own quarters in Kasnia -- is not envy.

Yes, Kara Danvers has the advantage of luxury over her, but as Alex has pointed out, it has made her soft. She herself can see it has made the other woman undisciplined, complacent. So, she does not envy Kara Danvers her luxury.

When she reads Kara Danvers's journal, her attitude toward the woman softens. Kara Danvers seems intelligent, compassionate, good-natured, witty and driven to help people. Kara Danvers is not the malevolent, entitled defender of American destroyers that she had believed her to be.

She is confused and intrigued, but she is not envious.

When she reads the passages in Kara Danvers's journal about her "best friend" Lena - the very same Lena who is Alex's sister - she is surprised and deeply curious.

Instead of the selfish usurper who failed and betrayed her brother, she finds an entirely different woman. Kara Danvers speaks of Lena Luthor with a respect and affection that is almost tangible in each page.

The warmth and intimacy of every detail written by a fond hand -- from her glowing praise of Lena's brilliance and kindness, to the three pages devoted to the way her eyes shone with surprise and joy when Kara discovered her birthday (her actual birthdate and not the day she had been adopted by the Luthors) and brought her Big Belly Burger at work to surprise her -- every single little thing she reads about Lena Luthor in the journal is like a revelation.

She stares at the photograph of her in Kara Danvers's journal.

In the five months of her existence, she has seen glimpses of beauty -- the snowbird ruffling its feathers on a bare branch has its own beauty, so does the silver-grey bark of the trees outside the compound. Even Alex's pretty friend, Eve, has her own beauty.

But none of these things can hold a candle to the woman in the photograph.

She can't look away from the piercing green eyes -- a green deeper and more mesmerizing than the poisonous green glow that had exploded in the sky that one night. She can't understand how something as inanimate as a photograph can be so arresting.

For the first time, she feels a gnawing in her stomach, a tight squeeze in her chest -- it is a new thing, and it makes her uncomfortable. But she does not know what it is yet.

This unknown thing prompts her out of Kara Danvers's couch and into her closet where she curiously puts on clothing that makes her look identical to the woman in the photo stuck to the refrigerator. Alex had said that she might need to match her someday.

In the back of her head, she knows that this is not what Alex meant. But the unnamed thing inside her does not care.

She faces the mirror and slips on the eye glasses, completing the disguise. 

So this is what it is like to be Kara Danvers.

For a second, she is reminded of one of the books Alex had given her -- The Man in the Iron Mask. A story of two identical people, allotted different paths at birth, until fate turns the tide and allows the disadvantaged twin to taste the life that has been denied them. Out of all her books, it is second only to the The Great Gatsby in her preference.

She flexes, tries on Kara Danvers's life as she tries on her clothes. And the first taste of it she seeks out of her own volition is Lena Luthor.

Her plan had been merely to observe. Just a reconnaissance mission, to get a feel for who the woman truly is -- the disappointing farce Alex laments, or the remarkable force of nature that fills the pages of Kara Danvers's journal.

It's not difficult to find L-Corp. Nor is it difficult to find the woman herself.

Looking back on it now in the quiet of her room in Kasnia, she thinks this was probably when the unknown thing eating her insides became envy.

It's easy to distinguish Lena Luthor in a crowded office lobby. Not only because of her striking looks or because of her clearly expensive clothes. Lena cuts an arresting figure through a crowd -- she moves with a power and grace that immediately catches the eye. And this is how she knows that Lena really is Alex's sister.

Lena moves the way Alex does, with a dynamic, captivating assurance that commands attention. But there is something languid and elegant in the way Lena walks across the lobby - brisk, yes, but also smooth, almost indulgent, as if she moves at her own pace and the world must follow her - it's amazing how she can move like that in heels and office attire.

She also notices how Lena takes the time to talk to people. Amid all the corporate talk, her enhanced hearing picks up snatches of conversation -- a concerned inquiry about this employee’s sick mother, or a delighted laugh at the antics of that employee’s toddler.

Her initial intent to merely observe without making contact is utterly forgotten as Lena ends her conversation with an associate and heads to the elevator. She’s not ready let her out of her sight yet, so she quickens her pace just the slightest to catch the elevator.

Once there, she realizes her mistake.

She hadn’t actually planned on talking to Lena and as such has no idea what to say in an actual encounter with her. For some reason, this is different from her encounter with Kara Danvers’s Alex. With that Alex, it had been easy to make an excuse, to laugh things off and make a joke.

This time is different.

This time, the doors to the elevator begin to slide shut, and it’s just her and Lena. All the smoothness and ease with which she had lied to Alex is gone, and all that’s left is her staring at this woman whom she has read and heard so much of that she feels as if she knows her -- has known her all her life.

The photograph has not done her justice. It would not be hyperbole to say that in the entirety of her existence, she has never seen anything as beautiful as Lena Luthor in the flesh.

She is dressed impeccably in deep colors that contrast delightfully with her pale skin, and her hair is scooped back into an elegant knot that exposes the graceful length of her neck. Her perfume -- something subtle and feminine -- reaches her nostrils as Lena turns her head toward her, sending her olfactory senses into a dizzy spell. And her eyes... 

Eyes the same color as Alex's with the same touch of danger in the piercing gaze - but Lena's are brighter somehow. Where Alex's eyes are steel, cold, hard and unyielding, Lena's eyes are glass - sharp and cutting, all shards and fractals in the photograph she had stared at earlier

And yet there is something fragile in them when those eyes alight on the woman she thinks is Kara Danvers.

Yes, this is where the envy comes in. Because how can she not envy any woman that Lena Luthor would look at in this way - her cut-glass eyes going soft and translucent, sparkling with surprised delight. How can she not resent Kara Danvers for being treated to such a sight every day when she herself has not?

For all the words she has learned in the past five months, she finds she cannot speak any at all now. Her mouth is dry, her tongue feels thick, and her heart is pounding.

But Lena is talking, unaware that the woman she is speaking to is not her friend. Her tone is light - she is asking about Kara's vacation - but her voice is rich and sultry and even, like silk over steel, and it makes her breathless.

She manages to stammer out an incoherent excuse involving Kara Danvers’s Alex, or she may have been referring to her own Alex, at this point she doesn’t even really know what she’s saying -- but Lena is nodding and smiling, and she doesn’t know if it’s normal for a Kryptonian’s heartbeat to stop for a second then zoom forward at what is undoubtedly an unhealthy rate.

She wants to see Lena smile more, hear her talk more, but a hand slips between the elevator doors, and a familiar blond head pokes in. Alex’s friend Eve sidles into the space between her and Lena, golden curls bobbing cheerfully.

The other blonde is smooth in her excuses and lies, but there’s a slightly manic edge to her demeanor that tells her Eve is eager to get rid of Lena so she can berate her.

She couldn’t really care less. Her eyes flick over to Eve for less than a second before turning to Lena again, silently imploring her not to go. Not yet not yet give me more time I don’t care if you’re talking to Kara and not to me just please don’t go yet -- 

But of course, Lena doesn’t stay. She doesn’t know how momentous this encounter is. Lena thinks she’s just talking to a friend -- just a casual conversation she’ll probably forget as soon as more important matters overtake it in her mind.

Lena takes her leave with another brilliant smile and a promise made for future plans with her that Lena doesn’t know she’ll be breaking, because all other future plans will involve Kara Danvers and not her impostor.

She doesn’t remember much else of what happens after Lena exits the elevator, leaving the two women staring at her just before the doors close. She vaguely remembers an irksome and unsatisfactory argument with Eve. She vaguely remembers flying back to Kasnia in a daze, a copy of Catco magazine with Lena on the cover held securely in her grasp to prevent it from falling into the ocean.

That very same magazine is hidden in her mattress, and for the hundredth time since her return, she resists the temptation to pull it out and stare at Lena’s photograph. Or the name Kara Danvers on the byline.

....

Envy en·​vy | / ˈen-vē / n. (pl. -ies)  painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage.

______________

By SorrowsFlower

Meh, I dunno know what happened. Suddenly, I can’t write. Ugh.