#but who says i cant have two photographer aus :)

[tennessoui]

Okay but Kit, what if Obi-Wan was the model and Anakin the photographer?? 👀

ok but this is giving me the idea of a totally different scenario where obi-wan's just written his comeback novel after a few years of suffering writer's block and his new agent insists he has to take photos for the book jacket, alright, obi-wan i know you're all about privacy and writing under a pseudonym but we need your face on this book dammit your face will sell this book. that is a new york times best seller face.

and finally obi-wan agrees (reluctantly) that he'll come out as a very handsome bearded baby man to his fans, and the photographer they hire to take the headshots is anakin skywalker

anakin, who is low key obsessed with ben lars' books and writing and owns them all and has a tattoo of one of the lines on his forearm. who thinks he's just doing some headshots for obi-wan kenobi, normal day in the office.

this would lead to mistaken identity shenanigans as they flirt the entire shoot and anakin touches him a lot more than he should "to position him" and half the pictures are unusable because obi-wan is giving come fuck me eyes to the camera(man), but they leave with each other's numbers to continue the stellar banter and sexy flirting

and anakin has no idea who obi-wan is, that he's actually ben fucking lars, until they release his new book and anakin opens it right there n the bookstore to see obi-wan's face smirking up at him from the book jacket.

[diorsluv]

feather , the drama queen

“ i say she’s too dramatic ”

series m. list

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, missseraphina and 310,937 others

yourusername photo dump time 🗣���🗣️

guess who ran into connor bedard at the family function 😱 he was looking at me weird n shit cuz me and mark were cosplaying as rapunzel and flynn rider

also i love taking screenshots of my bf and his goofy brothers when they look stupid!

tagged: lhughes_06, markestapa, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, masonmctavish23, _connorbedard

view all comments

jamie.drysdale where did you find that pic of us.

→ yourusername use ur common sense

→ trevorzegras this feels like a violation

→ yourusername it is! ☺️

_connorbedard i was looking at you weird because you are weird.

→ yourusername awww cmon ur no fun 😔 we all know im ur favorite relative

→ _connorbedard we’re not related.

→ jamie.drysdale oh my god not even your cousin loves you yourusername

→ yourusername SHUT UP JAMIE

→ _connorbedard WE’RE. NOT. COUSINS?????

→ trevorzegras breaking news!!! bedsy and jamie are related 😱😱

→ _connorbedard my finger is hovering over the block button

username44 funny that she posts this RIGHT NOW..

→ username10 they all have her blocked they don’t know anything

trevorzegras WHEN THERES SOMETHING STRANGE

→ yourusername IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

→ _quinnhughes aw that sounds just like the two of you

→ luca.fantilli WHO YOU GONNA CALL

→ rutgermcgroarty GHOSTBUSTERS!

→ adamfantilli 👻👻👻

→ yourusername quinn YOU’RE the strange looking thing in the neighborhood 🤬 _quinnhughes

→ jackhughes flashbacks to when that little kid got scared when he opened the door

→ _quinnhughes oh my god I WAS WEARING A COSTUME

username79 did anyone else notice who liked the post…

→ username3 good lord she’s back

luca.fantilli it seems war is NOT over 😔

→ yourusername ????

→ dylanduke25 luca i thought you had her blocked smh

→ luca.fantilli how’d you know who i was talking about unless you didn’t have her blocked either???

→ yourusername …

_quinnhughes everyone’s gonna start calling me depressed now 😐

→ yourusername sweetie they’ve been calling you depressed keep up

→ _quinnhughes 😨

→ jackhughes 😱

→ lhughes_06 🤯

dylanduke25 let’s give me the credit for that costume idea!

→ yourusername you told me to dress up as mother gothel.

→ dylanduke25 out of love 🤗

→ markestapa YOU TOLD ME TO DRESS LIKE THE FUCKING HORSE.

→ lhughes_06 HEY MAXIMUS IS A GREAT CHARACTER

edwards.73 why is mark at the family function 🤨

→ yourusername his mama wanted to come 😈

→ markestapa that’s a lie she forced me to come because i was the only one willing to dress up as flynn rider for her

→ edwards.73 …why are you dressing up in costumes at the family function?????

→ yourusername THE KIDS ALWAYS DO A LITTLE COSTUME PLAY CONTEST THING

→ jamie.drysdale she made me dress up as the lorax when we were in middle school

→ yourusername stop complaining i was literally mr o’hare

→ jamie.drysdale AND THEN YOU MADE ME LORD FARQUAD THE YEAR AFTER THAT

→ yourusername 🙄🙄

→ trevorzegras pics or it didn’t happen.

lhughes_06 you really snuck that cute ass pic of you thinking we wouldn’t notice

→ yourusername ew i hate you

→ lhughes_06 you love me

→ yourusername 🙄

→ lhughes_06 say it ☹️

→ yourusername 🥱

→ jackhughes PLEASE JUST SAY IT ALREADY I CANT STAND HIS WHINING

→ yourusername no can do jacky boy 😓

→ lhughes_06 you little shit

→ yourusername luv u too 😒😒

username10 connor looks so done

username98 quinn has never had a good pic of himself posted by any of his friends 💀

mackie.samo I COULDVE BEEN FLYNN RIDER WHY DIDNT U ASK ME

→ yourusername i asked mark first 😓

→ markestapa HAH take that

colecaufield i took that second photo 😒

→ yourusername our lovely backup photographer 🫶🫶

→ lhughes_06 your quality is kinda ass

→ colecaufield BRO i took it on your phone???

missseraphina

liked by yourusername and 202 others

missseraphina i know you miss me, bc why else would you have texted me last night? 🥰

view all comments

username24 oh babe.. that’s not…..

username8 girly this is a bit obsessive don’t you think? 😭

username61 he’s taken. TAKEN.

username82 yesss girl get your man back!!

→ username40 …as in the one that’s in a relationship rn??

username77 sweetie just find someone else already

username95 I THOUGHT THEY ALL BLOCKED HER but lil drizz just liked the post what

→ yourusername it gave me a good laugh what can i say

username43 they’re making an absolute mockery out of her

username20 LMFAOOO

username18 don’t tell me she’s still going on with ts 😭😭

username55 but let’s think about it.. she wouldn’t have posted this unless he actually texted her

username39 it’s bc he still wants u 😝😝

→ username14 i KNOW you’re not talking about luke hughes 💀

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, jamie.drysdale, dylanduke25, and 347,252 others

yourusername oh girl you’re obsessed 🥱

view all comments

username90 HELL YEAH we’re back on the drama train

jamie.drysdale i thought i told you to block her 😑

→ yourusername I DID but then all my friends were telling me abt the shit she was posting and i couldn’t resist 😞😞

mackie.samo you’re so petty

→ yourusername aw cmon mack you know you love my pettiness 🤗🤗

→ mackie.samo uh huh i definitely do

→ markestapa bro ur literally pettier than she is

→ mackie.samo give me ONE good example

→ markestapa you blocked me for a week because i said your hair looks like a rat lives in it 😐

→ mackie.samo thanks for the reminder im blocking you again

username10 babe ur feeding into the drama 😭

→ yourusername i know 😈

username34 WHEN SHE PLAYS MULTIPLE INSTRUMENTSSSSS

username28 our multi-talented queen!!

adamfantilli will we ever be done with the couple-y shit 😒

→ yourusername when she’s done obsessing over my man 🫶

→ lhughes_06 what’s that heart for yourusername

→ edwards.73 you’re so possesive luke get over yourself 🙄🙄

→ adamfantilli FR

→ markestapa FR

→ luca.fantilli FR

→ jackhughes FR

→ rutgermcgroarty FR

→ _alexturcotte FR

→ _quinnhughes FR

→ trevorzegras FR

→ dylanduke25 FR

→ jamie.drysdale FR

→ colecaufield FR

→ mackie.samo FR

→ yourusername not again 😭

username88 is she ever gonna go away

luca.fantilli but when you think about it.. luke probably DID text her to provoke that post

→ yourusername LMFAO he would neverrrrr right? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 um

→ lhughes_06 i don’t wanna lie to you

→ yourusername oh

→ luca.fantilli oh shit 🤯

→ jamie.drysdale what.

→ markestapa DUDE I THOUGHT YOU BLOCKED HER lhughes_06

→ edwards.73 there’s no fucking way

→ _quinnhughes …

username20 goddamn what happened under luca’s comment 😭😭

username24 holy shit there’s no way luke actually texted her again

username80 oh my god???

notes ) cliffhanger 🙊🙊 yes we’re back but not really (?) this one’s been sitting in the drafts for a while so.. i hope it’s fairly adequate LMAOO

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust @cstads-blog @h0e4fictionalme-n @bunting58

[shitouttabuck]

fuck it friday

tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz and @rewritetheending <3

i have not written a word in Months but i found the start of this prompt fill on my desktop and i cant for the life of me remember the plot i meant to write

“It’s not a big enough deal to call a TaskRabbit, or an actual, you know, plumber,” Eddie’s telling Chim as he wriggles into his jeans, soft morning light dancing over his face through the locker room glass. “And I’ve watched a million YouTube videos, and everyone online says it’s basically impossible to fuck up. I’ve just never done it myself before.” Buck knows the extra meat in the middle of this story that Eddie’s generously allowed his own self-preservation to omit: hardware store Marisol who ended up fixing Eddie’s sink and the squeaky back door and then gently telling Eddie he was very nice but they’d been taking it slow and trying at this for a while and they still don’t actually have a single thing in common or that magic spark, so to text her if he needed a hand with home reno—she’s happy to repay a favour—but as far as dating went, she didn’t see much more for them. That was, with timing only a horror-comedy could love, just hours before she dropped by the Diaz house to pick up the rest of her things, only to find Eddie on the porch with his tongue down the throat of a woman who was decidedly not her and traumatizingly like the many photographs of his dead wife framed around the residence. Buck can’t really say he blames her in the slightest for what followed, and what followed included grabbing a hammer from her passenger seat—Buck can appreciate a well-prepared woman—and unfixing everything she had repaired in the Diaz house, loudly, violently, and with scathing commentary on the kind of boyfriend and person Eddie Diaz is. And listen, Buck’s not unbiased here. He loves Eddie, everyway and everywhen, ugly, cruel mistakes and all. He loves him because and sometimes despite, and he knows his disappointment was a distant second to the worry and the unconditional support when Eddie’d relayed it all to him later that night, fresh out of two separate dumpings and brimming with guilt and confusion and this loss that must’ve just been another gut-punch in having some version of Shannon taken from him again.

if i can remember what i wanted to write for this prompt, yay, and if not, i am in the brainstorm-outlining stages of a twisters au lmao

tagging oh my god i havent done this in forever who do i tag @onward--upward @chronicowboy @try-set-me-on-fire @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @doeeyeseddie if you fancy!!!

[daemour]

Pairing: Hongjoong x gn!Reader (with maybe a hint of romance?)

Genre: Fluff, comedy, photographer au

Word Count: 982

Warnings: None

Summary: Hongjoong invites you to his studio, but some complications occur

a part two to Manhattan! technically be read on its own, but more context is provided if u read the first part

more tipsy drabbles after quite long enough hehe

-

“Hi, I’m, uh, here to see Mr Kim Hongjoong?” You’re out of your depth in this fancy building but when Hongjong invited you to come out and see his studio in real life, you couldn’t say no to the offer.

The secretary looks you up and down, judgment clear on his face. “And you are?”

“Ah, I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” you say, spelling it out. “He said he’d put down an appointment for me?”

The man types away, chewing his gum so loudly you can’t help but wince a little.”Mmh, I don’t see you here. Next time, come up with a more believable lie.”

Your face falls but you try not to let it bother you. Hongjoong must’ve been busy and forgot. You can’t blame him. “Ah, sorry to bother you,” you apologise and the receptionist’s eyes soften.

“If you’d like, I can try and get a hold of his office and see if he has some free time?” he offers but you shake your head.

“That’s okay, I’ll just figure out another time. Thank you so much, though.” You smile and turn around to be on your way, battling the embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole.

As soon as you get past the big glass doors, you can feel your stomach twisting. That was embarrassing. The receptionist probably thought you were a creep. Not that it wasn’t weird. Even the way you met Hongjoong was strange. Who even becomes friends with a random photographer at three in the morning who just so happens to be world-famous? You, apparently.

With a sigh, you hail a taxi and prepare yourself for yet another boring day. It was your one chance to see the inside of an actual photography studio and it just slipped away between your fingers. Now you have to deal with your roommate’s prying questions.

As you’re unlocking your apartment door, however, your phone dings. It’s a text from Hongjoong.

You’re so engrossed you don’t notice your roommate unlocking and opening the door for you. “Ayo, what are you on? Don’t just stand t here, fool?” Mingi pulls you in, tsking. “One of these days you’re gonna get kidnapped and all I’ll say is ‘I told you so’.”

You look up from your phone, rolling your eyes. “Okay, dad,” you snark, receiving a light smack on your shoulder, and you return to your phone.

Frowning, you open the attachment and stare at it in disbelief. “He spelt my name wrong!” you yell and Mingi jumps. “That fool!”

Mingi frowns, peeking over your shoulder. “Is that why you’re home already?”

You nod vigorously, indignant and amused at the same time. “I literally cant believe it! How does one even do that? I texted my name to him!”

Mingi, unbothered as he always is, laughs loud and hard. “Honestly, power to him for not even thinking about double-checking. A mood and a half confirmed.”

Apparently, you took too long to respond and a call from Hongjoong flashes on the screen. “Hey!” you answer the phone while simultaneously pushing Mingi away with the other hand. “What’s up?” Your roommate makes a face at your tone of voice and you give him the finger.

“Hey, you disappeared on me? I did write in a time for you.” You still haven’t gotten used to how fast he talks and it takes you a moment to respond.

“Ah, dude, you spelled my name wrong,” you laugh. “The receptionist thought I was trying to sneak in or something.”

Hongjoong squawks. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, dude, you spelled it some weird way, with far too many vowels.”

Hongjoong sighs, and you can hear him shuffle some papers around. “I’m so sorry about that, (Y/N). Do you still want to come around?”

“What? I don’t wanna take another taxi. They’re so expensive. We can just do it another day if you want.”

“No! I’ll drive you. I feel bad,” Hongjoong insists, and you can hear him running through the halls of his building. “What’s a coffee shop near you? We can meet there.”

You sigh, giving in. “Thanks, Hongjoong. I’ll see you in a few.” After a pause, you hang up the phone and immediately Mingi swoops in with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You have a date,” he sings and you blatantly ignore him. “Make sure to get that cake!”

With another eye roll, you shut the door on your roommate and head back down the stairs. The coffee shop isn’t far, quite literally across the street, so you take the time to pop in and get yourself a tea. You check your phone to pass the time, but it’s surprisingly not as long as you expected as a familiar face slides into the seat across from you.

“How’s your drink?” You can’t help but smile at the sight of him with his ashy grey hair and patterned scarf. “I’m sorry you got stuck at the receptionist.”

You laugh, waving it off. “It’s okay. He was doing his job. Would you like a drink or do you want to just head out?”

Hongjoong hums. “I’ll get a drink. I’d like to spend more time with you anyway, and we can get into the studio whenever.” You squint at him, unsure if he’s flirting, and all he does is just wink and get in line at the counter. You can just imagine Mingi taking the piss out of you when you get back home later tonight.

As you stare at Hongjoong’s back, your smile widens. It’s not good to long for what may not come but the idea of it does appeal to you. Maybe things will work out the way you want, but focusing on the possibilities isn’t conducive. And as Hongjoong approaches you, a coffee cup in hand and a wide smile on his face, you know there’s no time like the present.

[frogsmulder]

The Redheaded Lover

Historical au 1920s New York; Mulder is a new-to-town photographer who finds his muse in a speakeasy; 6.5k words; rated E; tagging @today-in-fic; credit for the title and cover art go to @medicaldoctordana

many thanks to my betas @baronessblixen @brownies-and-tea​ @dreamingofscully @grahamophone​ @smalldisbeliever​ @starshinescully

It’s not the first time that Dana has patronised the half floor of no.359 for less than legal purposes, but it’s the first time she has been approached by a stranger and charmed out of her self-built world of paperbacks and teacups of liquor. 

She sits in the corner as she usually does, away from the kerfuffle of the crowd of students wasting away their scholarly pursuits, hidden in the dim glow of her table light. She is unseen, unobserved, unattached. At the tip of the alcohol to her tongue, she forgets the day’s gruesome reports–the evil that wanders the streets of New York unchecked–and sinks into the tattered rush seat of the wooden chair. 

He catches her attention when he enters the room, merely in that he is not the type she would have thought to frequent these sorts of places, but thinks nothing of it: more and more people are finding shelter in these establishments and the same could be said for herself. It’s only when he approaches her with two teacups in hand that she observes more closely his character.

"May I?" he asks–rather shyly for someone who has already bought her a drink. He is tall, floppy-haired and kind-eyed; a little scruffy around the edges of his suit but she likes that about him. He is also blushing and biting a plump bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes restlessly shifting from the cup back to her. Amused, Dana places her bookmark on her page and sets the book down.

"Please," she gestures to the empty chair opposite her. The relief let loose from his shoulders as he sits is endearing and she can’t help but return his small smile. "You’re new around here?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Intuition, I suppose." She smirks and takes a sip from her new cup.

"I’m Mulder by the way." He offers out his hand and she takes it graciously, appreciating his manners, so hard to come by in the modern world it would seem. It’s a little odd for a name but she’s heard worse and doesn’t question it. Everybody has their thing, and God knows she has her fair share of them.

"Dana," she offers in return, shaking his hand. His grip is firm–but gentle–and surprisingly pleasant.

"Nice to meet you, Dana."

There is a beat where she forgets her words, her tongue swelling in her mouth. Her table light catches his feature perfectly, framing him in warmth. She likes the way he says her name and wonders if there is a way she can get him to say it again. She shakes her head free of her thoughts with a smile, not letting herself be flustered for long. "What brings you over to my table then, Mulder?"

"A redhead in a speakeasy called The Redhead?" He waggles his eyebrows at the coincidence, making her laugh. "You have to admit that’s intriguing enough to want to know what she is about. Plus she’s squirrelled away, nose deep in a book. It’s not your everyday scene of affairs."

"Everybody has their Thing, Mulder." She lingers on the feel of his name on her tongue, dragging it out to make her point. 

He chuckles, raising his teacup. "Touché." Resting his cup back down on the table, he cants his head as though assessing her under his gentle gaze. A morose expression becomes him, a sensitivity he hides with a dip of his head. 

"My first name is Fox, if you’re wondering, but I like that even less, so..." He gives a shrug, but it feels like he's imparted a life-long secret. His easy trusting nature worms its way inside her heart and Dana finds herself reaching out to cover his hand with her own. She's intrigued by the soul behind his gentle brown eyes. Or are they green? Maybe grey. She can't help but fall into their depths of emotion–even knowing she should look away and free herself from this stranger's grasp. 

"May I ask what book it is you're reading?" The sound of his voice breaks through to her and she finally blinks and swallows the rest of her thoughts. 

"Mulder on the Links, Agatha Christie."

"A Freudian slip?" Mulder chuckles lightly, as though hadn't just owned a great sadness on the utterance of his given name. 

Gesturing to the cover where it clearly says 'Murder', he bites that delicious lower lip, and she finds herself entertaining ideas beyond this conversation. Heat rises to her cheeks but she enjoys the warm glow and laughs off the embarrassment easily. "The story is very unrealistic, but she can throw in a few good red herrings."

"So you’re more of a pragmatic type?" 

Folding his fingers around hers, he takes her hand that was resting on top of his in his own. Absent-mindedly, she began to brush her thumb over his knuckles. 

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"In other manners of speaking?"

She cocks her head, and finally breaks the spell, retracting her hand to top up on her liquid courage. The alcohol runs smoothly down her throat, coating it in fire and bitterness, and she wants to wince but she maintains her gaze. 

"I can appreciate good art."

He smirks at this although she is uncertain as to why. 

"So, Mulder, why are you really here?"

He chuckles and looks towards the teacup resting on the table in front of him. Beneath the downward tilt of his head, she spies his long eyelashes fluttering as uncertain as she is. He looks up through them at her. "To appreciate fine art… and if you’re willing, create some."

Dana can't help the catch in her breath and the smirk at the corner of her lips. "I am intrigued. How so?"

----------

They walk back through the cold to his studio through the familiar dishevelled corners of downtown New York. In the distance, traffic rumbles and horns blare, the occasional siren wails by. Buildings crowd above their heads, orange light seeping from their upper windows, bathing them in a soft, warm glow. The air pricks at her skin like sharpened fingernails, biting her ankles beneath the hem of her slacks, curling underneath the collar of the jacket he has lent her, although she has it turned up against the breeze. A shiver walks down her spine. Dana pulls a deep breath, cool, invigorating excitement rushing into her lungs. It pools inside her, flowing with the pulse of her blood, tingling along her nerve endings. She turns her nose into the lapel and breathes in again, taking advantage of the cold night to sink into the smell of him in the cloth. As they walk, he leans down, mouth close to her ear, to discuss his offer and she nods, intrigued by his vision. Upon the final corner to his place, his hand drifts to her lower back, guiding her as elegant and as carefree as the breeze. Mulder's smile is genuine and warm and kind when he stops outside the door, fishing for his key. With a playful glint in his eye, he throws and catches them, swiping them out of the air as they jingle. Again with the casual placement of his palm, he lets her enter first.

The light that seeps in through the window is dim, splashing a few golden highlights to the faces of the objects in its path. The rest of the room is shrouded in the shadows of the night. Dana takes a few curious steps, her heels sounding in the silence against the hardwood floor. At the back of the room, she can make out cupboards hanging on the walls, doors mostly gone, and the glint of a kitchen tap. The handles of the mismatched mugs on display make her realise that this isn’t just his studio, but his everything. She is about to turn around, a question on the tip of her tongue, when he flicks on the light switch. 

"Make yourself at home." He openly gestures to the few tatty chairs arranged in the corner opposite the kitchen. "Tea?"

Dana follows him with her eyes as he saunters towards the far end of the room. Self-consciously, she chuckles, "Yes, as long as it’s not that alcoholic sort."

He flashes her a grin and puts the kettle on the stove. 

The chairs, although worse for wear, are extremely comfortable. One of them almost swallows her whole as Dana settles into it, sinking until it ceases its groaning. If she wasn’t thrumming with anticipation, she could have easily let her mind wander to slumberous lands in the arms of a place so homey. As she reluctantly slips off his jacket, she takes in the walls decorated in their own kind of paper. Not a single fleck of paint is visible through the overlapping pieces of art he has created and strung up. He has a talent: that much is evident. Flowing florals and portraits decorate the space, soft and mellow watercolours defined by inks imbue their personality into the very atmosphere. Under the shimmer of the ceiling’s bare bulb, they light up a myriad of fantasy worlds like reading a thousand books.

The kettle lets out a shrill whistle, redirecting her attention back to Mulder, who pours the steaming water into two cups. The shirt across his back stretches, temporarily ironing out the creases tight around his muscles. Dana crosses her legs in time for him to peer innocently over his shoulder. "Sugar?"

"Please."

She lets out a sigh and relaxes a little when he looks away for the sugar bowl, feeling a little over her head. Impulsivity isn’t not in her nature, but she is never reckless beyond rationality. Yet here she is in the small space owned by a man she hardly knows, mentally preparing to disrobe and be studied in front of a scrutinising artistic eye. Instead of the peace she had previously felt, her mind skips to the imperfections that would catch him, her hand straying to the singular mole above her lip. He promised her that she wouldn’t be bare; would be free to control all that she wants, but as she eyes the divider over the other side of the room–what it conceals–the idea sits like lead in her stomach. She knows she will be stripped back beyond her naked skin in vulnerability. And still she is not fleeing, but sitting calmly, comfortably, capricously. The proposal is appealing. Beyond her zone of comfort; her known world of experience.

"Dana." He calls out to her again and a wave of déjà vu washes over her, a tea cup proffered, his frame towering tall from her seated position. Mulder quirks his lips and places his cup down on the side table by an empty chair before unceremoniously flopping down. The springs squeak under his weight, the stuffing eaten away over the years barely cushioning the blow. 

The tea is sweet if a little flavourless and she burns her tongue while taking a sip. The air is thick with anticipation, waiting for one of them to speak up first, but pleasant and playful in their awaited parlez. They hold their eyes on each other, each breath of delay intensifying, striking further a silent challenge. A challenge of what she can’t be sure, but she wants to win. Mulder too winces when he takes a sip and she huffs a light laugh. 

"I suppose that makes me the winner then," he declares triumphantly.

"Nonsense: you spoke first," she quips in return, slightly disappointed that she should lose. 

"Ah, but you broke the silence first."

"What were the rules of this game?"

"This was a game?" He chuckles into his cup, almost to himself. "You have never done this before have you?"

Dana can feel heat rise to her cheeks and the words on the end of her tongue before she speaks them, holding up a mirror to her own reflection. "How can you tell?" 

"Intuition, I suppose."

-----------

She sits still patiently in the armchair, watching Mulder shuffle about behind the divider, laying the scene, until her restless curiosity becomes too great. Sliding up behind the partition and peering around, she glimpses something far less artistic than she expected; all mechanical and positioned and precise. No flair or fluid brushstrokes, painter’s palette or creative liberties. And in the centre of all of these workings she would be the cog that drives everything, her painter’s muse. He is bent over, fixing a camera upon a tripod, a blank white wall–his blank canvas. Purity: it’s the first thing that comes to her mind when she takes it all in. The white wall, her white costume, her face free of heavy make-up. Innocence. He had suggested playing around with contrasting shades on their walk back from the bar: bright whites or dark blacks. When she had asked why he had chosen white, his answer had been simple: her beauty was truthful. She still doesn’t believe the image will be as powerful as his vision. There is never light without shade, white without black, innocence without sin. A smudge of one colours the other, adding depth, truth, and realism. But this is her pragmatic view of the world. Dana has a suspicion that Mulder’s dreams are bigger than can be contained by the nature of the Earth. 

"There’s an outlet over there–" He points in its direction without turning to look at her–"could you turn it on please."

Amazed that he even knew that she was there, she graciously finds the plug for a large lamplight, trailing its cable to the wall, and flicks it on. At once, the area is filled with bright light shooting up the walls. It dances across the ceiling, catching Dana’s eye and she looks up, noticing for the first time the patch above them that has been painted more recently: white compared to the aged magnolia hanging above the rest of the room. Currently, the centrepiece of the camera’s focus is on a solitary wooden stool, the only splash of colour in an otherwise stark display. She walks over to it, running her hand along the smooth varnished top. It is dull and chipped, scarred by splatters of paint, but it stands tall and proud and well loved. She tries it on for size. The stool is as tall as those she might find in a café and she has to jump to lift herself up. Grunting when she sits with a thud, Dana peeks over the edge, seeing her feet dangle not quite meeting the floor. She meets his eyes for approval but he is too consumed with her entire form to focus on her eyes. 

He radiates an excitable boyish charm that makes her wonder if this is his first time too. Stooping to adjust the camera, he shifts it back slightly and wipes greasy marks from the lens with a rag.

Empowered, Dana rests her feet on the rungs, relaxing, letting them fall open. Uncouth, her mother would say. Alive, she would say. Her slacks rub against the edge of the seat and she shuffles about, searching for a more comfortable position. Settling for a cornered approach–her legs over one side each–she pushes her hair behind her ear when a flash of brilliant light snaps from behind the camera. Surprised, she jerks her head upward, but Mulder isn’t aware that he has caught her off-guard. Deep in concentration, his lip caught between his teeth, he murmurs something about a test shot, about focus and lighting. It occurs to her that she has never been captured so naturally, where she has no awareness of her observation. It is another kind of freedom. Blink. Click. No flash this time and she can imagine the negative has softer edges, more surreal and enchanting than before. This is more than art; this is magic.

Mulder walks up to her and rests his hands on her shoulders, gently pressing. It’s only then that she realises she is tense, more nervous than she had previously thought. She lets her shoulders sink under his touch, exhaling. His hands are warm and strong, and a comforting weight, melting her like butter. Lifting her chin with a smile, he asks "Is this okay?" When she nods, not trusting herself to speak, he whispers, "Perfect," so quietly Dana wonders if he ever said it at all.

One final test take and the white night shift draped over the divider looms nearer. 

He steps behind the divider when he is finished setting up, leaving her to the emptiness of the stage and her thoughts. She didn’t know what she expected but his quiet respect for her privacy leaves her staring at the shadow of his outline far longer than would be appropriate. She wonders if he can see her shadow too, if he would look. She has faith that he will not, yet the idea is one that lingers as she unbuttons her blouse and slips off her slacks, donning the outfit. It takes her by surprise: the way the soft fabric flows like silky water over her skin, loose like breath over her curves. Smoothing down the gown over her hips, marvelling, Dana hears his voice call to her, "Are you okay, Dana? Is it okay?" She gives herself a twirl and clamps a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle of delight.

"It’s more than okay: it's beautiful. Where did you get it?"

"My sister gave it to me… she also helped me purchase the camera." Mulder’s voice tightens as though talking through a lump in his throat. Although she does not wish to pry, she could not stop her feet from taking the steps towards him, her hand reaching out to his arm, her heart beating wildly as he gives her a sad smile but no further explanation.

She feels the heat of his gaze prickle against her skin in the coolness of the room. His smile turns from one of gentle sorrow to amazement, overcome with the sublime.  "Wow…" His breath hitches for another reason entirely.

He trails his fingertips over the  fabric, descending from her collarbones to the embroidery adorning the top of her décolletage. The touch is light and innocent, though she can tell the moment he becomes self-conscious: he grows hesitant and his hand starts to tremble. Retracting his touch within the prison of his fist, he promptly steps around her and fiddles needlessly with the camera.

"Hey, it’s okay." His eyes are sharp and dark when he glances at her, brimming with something earnest and ineffable. Dana takes his hands away from their incessant fiddling and licks her lips, the broad span of his hands weighing pleasantly against her own comparatively dainty ones. Within an equal air of innocence and suggestiveness, he raises his eyebrows. Releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she smirks. "Let's make some art, artist."

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

Positioning herself on the stool, she sits tall, pride flowing through her veins. She is elegance and grace and beauty: all that she cannot be in real life. It’s a far cry from the gruesome reality that she will have to face once this pocket of escape comes to a close, so she clings all she can to the moment; lives it, breathes it, tastes it, savours it. Every guiding touch he gives her–moving her shoulders this way just so, lifting her chin, turning her head to capture the brightness in her eyes, placing her hands delicately just here or there–she cherishes. It dawns on her and she shivers. She likes his touch. She likes the way he poses her. She likes the feeling of care. She is completely at his mercy yet she is powerful. Scrunching her toes to steady the heavy emotions rushing through her, Dana looks up into Mulder's eyes–a warm brown in this light–as he adjusts the position of her hand that her chin rests on.

"Is this okay?" he asks as he always does after modelling her like clay in his hands. She hums, agreeing, a little tipsy under his scrutiny. Mulder steps around the back of her to tease her hair forward and she can swear she feels his warm breath tickle behind her ear when he asks his question again. His fingers dance over her skin and across her shoulders, dragging with them the shoulder of the shift. She lets it fall from her shoulder, revealing more of her skin yet. "And this?" he poses again. 

Dana is fully conscious that she can say no at any time, yet she lets the photographs become slowly more alluring with each take. She is alive–on fire. With every question he asks her, she feels safe and seen. Seen by the lens of the camera, seen in the negative film, seen by him. Truly seen. 

The camera shutter closes with a click and an idea sparks from the fire growing within her. Boldly, she clambers down from the stool, never breaking his gaze until she slides in front of him, handling the camera herself. Tilting her head up towards him but keeping her focus trained on the equipment at her fingertips, Dana does not ask him. 

"Show me how I do it."

"The camera?" She doesn't mistake the husk in his voice. 

"Yes." 

Any increment of his professional guise remaining lowers entirely as he smiles. Dropping his lips to the shell of her ear, he shows her how to adjust the focus, the effects of lighting, of exposure periods, as if bestowing a coveted secret ingredient in the recipe of his work. Using a flash, Dana documents her disappearance from the frame, and smiles with glee. The stool is stark against the white background; cold and lonely but not to be dismissed without a story. Collectively, she likes how fluid her movement is within the stills. Like snapshots of someone else’s life, someone who gets to grow and move on, move beyond restrictive boxes. 

Mulder hums his agreement, somehow understanding her narrative although she has not spoken a word–hardly taken a breath–as she composed her scene. She wonders if he can taste her silent excitement at becoming her own author, her own painter, her own power. Without looking, she feels for his hand behind her, bringing him with her to the spotlight. If he's surprised he doesn't show it. 

She takes his rumpled jacket off and adjusts his loosened tie, grazing her fingers over his soft chest hair just peeking out from the first undone button. His shirt sleeves are perfectly rolled up to his elbows but his hair isn't quite mussed enough, she tells herself. It's an excuse to run her fingers through his floppy, dark locks and she doesn't lie to herself that she's wanted to do it since she first set eyes on him. Folding his arms across his middle, she gently lowers his head, telling him to smile. Mulder’s smirk is adorable and just like the rest of him: perfect. 

With him as her muse, Dana paints a portrait of demure desire, coy in catching the flame she feels grow between them. Mulder lets her pose him with grace, complementing her artistic eye and suggesting different twists on her vision. "Like this?" He looks up at her, bashful, through long, dark eyelashes, his cheeks touched pink. Dana hums.

"Maybe like this."

She takes the fingers of his left hand and curls them around the back of his neck. He holds his hand in place, his expression turning to one of challenge, reading her evocative intentions. When she runs her thumb across her lips, he stifles a moan. When the same thumb presses its painted imprint across his lips he shifts in his seat, although she spies his growing conundrum out of the corner of her eye. She makes an effort not to linger on the sensation of his supple lips under her command, nor the way it feels as though he is tentatively kissing her thumb. 

She steps away. 

The bulb flashes yet his eyes are dark: trained on her rather than the camera. When she walks over again, he pulls her in by the waist and she eagerly steps between his legs, pressing her lips to his and delving her tongue deep into his mouth. Her hands journey to his jaw, cupping him in the palm of her hands, tasting him as he serves himself up to her. Mulder meets her zeal with slow, savouring kisses, the kind to make her knees weak and her lips bruise. Gradually, he pulls away, dragging her lips with his until he lets her have them back. Opening his eyes, he breaks their bond and the silence suddenly rushes to her ears. 

"Dana…" On his tongue, her name is like a whisper in the breeze, so light it could be carried away as easily as an autumnal leaf. Yet it lingers, makes itself heard again that she can’t disregard his reverence as it settles in her belly. He reaches up with such care to tuck her hair behind her ear. "...Please."

She licks her lips, feeling the ache of them already. With steady fingers, she strips Mulder of his tie, and then begins to unbutton his shirt, exposing him to her. She undresses him with as much care and precision as she had posed him, caressing his lithe body in wonder and admiration. Pulling her own silk shift above her head, she lets it flutter to the floor, completely bare before him. Despite her nakedness, she doesn’t feel vulnerable–quite the opposite: safe, emboldened even. If she could only take a photo of them now, encapsulate the moment of this person she wants to remember being. She is confident he won’t let her fall.

Mulder’s hands casually find their way back to her hips and the way his thumbs tenderly brush against her skin makes her shiver. The cold peaks over her chest and around her body, lighting goose bumps in the wake of the gentle draft. He trails the rise of her flesh delicately over her stomach. Dana bites her lip and breathes heavily through her nose, concentrating on not collapsing in a fit of laughter, as he grazes over a particularly sensitive spot. He notices the muscles of her core tensing under his caress and his eyes wander up to hers.

"Ticklish?" Before he can play any trick, she moves his hands to her breasts, letting him squeeze and play with the ache that rests in them. "Are these ticklish too?"

Dana chuckles as he swipes his thumb over her pert nipple. Stepping into his touch, she reaches for the fastening of his pants. The motion is fluid as he stands and she pulls the waist over his hips, letting the clothing slip to the floor like water running its course. She fingers the hem of his underwear but he gives her a moment, cradling her face in his safe palms, greeting her with tender kisses once more. 

"You’re okay with this?" The words brush against her lips as he pulls away. It is the first time either of them have given voice to their actions, 

Breathing in the fire-crackling atmosphere, she nods. "Yes."

Lost in thought and the shifting light in his eyes, Dana leans into him, up on the tips of her toes and seals her promise of desire. It is a stretch, but under his hands she feels just as tall as him. Those large hands send sparks scattering across her skin as they flow from her cheeks down her neck, bracing at her shoulders briefly before shifting further, exploring her body as she plays with removing the last piece of clothing remaining between them. Fingers and thumbs make lazy patterns over her skin, swooping around the curve of her breasts and diving towards her navel. Arching into his touch, she barely keeps the moan behind locked lips. Every brushstroke of his deft fingers paints her with arousal. Dana slips her fingers inside his underwear and lowers them from his slender hips. They go skittering across the hardwood floor when he kicks them away; discarded and quickly forgotten. She doesn’t look as her hands skim inwards, meeting the coarse hair that trails down, her eyes closed, melting against his tongue in her mouth. Already impressive in her hand, she runs her finger over the length of him, mesmerised, feeling him twitch, and trembles at the knees at the mere thought–  

Mulder lifts her off of her feet abruptly, turning around swiftly, so it feels like she is floating, weightless, flying. Dana’s laugh of delight lights up the set, mingling with his own chuckle as their foreheads meet, the train of their eyes locked on one another. She embraces him, ankles locked around him, her arms around his neck; she grins indolently when she rolls her hips in his grasp, grinding herself against him. He pinches her thigh playfully–not hard enough to hurt–when he sets her down on the stool. Leaning back, grasping the edge behind her, she arches her chest and draws him in closer, tightening her grasp on him between her legs.

“Dana,” he murmurs with half a breath. She lets her eyes move from his, roam over the rest of him and find their way back to his face, a blush colouring his cheeks. He’s rocking gently; the glide of his cock over her folds heavenly but not quite enough. Done already with the teasing, she grunts, but still he teases some more.

“Please… Mulder–oh.”

And then he is buried inside her, filling her exquisitely. 

Head bent down to her shoulder, Mulder scrapes his teeth along her skin, waiting for the overwhelming sensation of union to wash away. Dana curls her fingers tentatively through his tousled hair, letting her nails scratch over his scalp in reply to the spot he is making that she knows will bruise tomorrow. Painting her with his mouth. She moans at the thought of what it will look like. How he is making her ache: that mark, her breasts, her centre. His hands are large on her hips holding her in place, all encompassing yet light. She tugs with her legs and he finally looks up, his eyes now flecked with shimmers of gold and green, and begins to move.

 She clings to his shoulder, the back of his neck, encourages him closer to play with his lips. She laughs, incredulous to the freedom pulsing through her, the adrenaline, the pure pleasure of him inside of her. It shouldn’t feel this good but it does.

Who was he an hour ago to her? Barely a pick up line in a sleazy speakeasy. Two hours ago? She hadn’t the pleasure of knowing his face, his smile. Not even a figment that such men existed. Yet it all felt so inevitable.

His thrusts remain slow in this awkward position, sweat forming at his brow. Torn between wanting to savour this languid pulse and build to something greater, Dana whimpers and grunts with frustration; curses softly at the pleasure and the wake it leaves in her, needing more. 

“Wait, Mulder. This isn’t going to work.”

“What do you need?” The husk of his voice flashes through her.

“Faster, I need–”

Mulder slips out of her and now suddenly empty, her legs tighten around him mourning the loss. His hands slide from her hips to under her thighs, leaving a trail of goose bumps after his touch, and swiftly, he lifts her up, taking them to the corner of his apartment that acts as his living room. Along the couch, he lies her down, the old springs retorting under their weight. All of his furniture–the little that he has– is comfortable and familiar and well-loved, and as she turns her head to the side, letting him kiss down her neck, she can smell the years of him woven into the fabric, a fine thread becoming one with the couch itself. She can feel the dips under her body from where he has been, and over time, moulded the material to his shape. It is unexpectedly personal and intimate, even as his tongue skims around her nipple. Closing her eyes, she sinks into the feeling, arches against his mouth, but before he can slip inside her again, she is sitting up and pushing him to sit back, straddling him. 

He laughs, taken by surprise. “Are you always this…” The words falter on the tip of his tongue, failing for ways to describe what it is he is trying to say. She arches a brow. 

“Am I always this, what?” she asks, goading him with a grin.

“…Pragmatic?”

She chuckles as she sinks down onto him again. Mulder groans, his head tipped back and his hands anchoring her by her hips, restricting her movement. 

"God, don't laugh when you're doing that." 

She laughs again, unbidden, and clenches around him purposefully. 

"Fuck."

"Feel good?" She taunts, grinding against him despite his hold on her. 

"Jesus, Dana," he breathes, skating his hands up her body. She moans as they pass over her breasts, heavy and sensitive. He kisses her deeply, begging her to move.

Steadily, she rises on her knees, squeezing her eyes shut at the pleasure the motion brings. Waiting at the apex of her arch, she teases them both with thoughts of her sinking down again, drawing out the sensation before giving in to the pull of gravity and his beckoning fingers grazing her clitoris. Her eyes spark open and she gasps when he finds the perfect angle with the pad of his thumb, swirling while her heart flutters somersaults in her chest. Dana’s thighs burn, her skin prickling with drops of sweat, as she moves quicker, chasing the feeling building in her centre. Mulder’s tongue makes her shiver although his licks and caresses are warm and his breath is hot on her neck. She bucks against the increase in pressure he applies through his thumb, the feeling harsh but not unpleasant; digs her nails into the rough material of the back of the couch cushions, calling out to God as it scrapes and burns against her knees. It is giddying and liberating, the way she floats freely through feelings of her body, breaking free of everyday restraints, regaining control and letting it fly loose all in one instant.

His other hand squeezes her thigh. "Dana, I’m close,” he pants, eyes rolling back and his jaw slackening. “So close… Need–”

“Shh,” she hushes him, already slipping off and replacing her body with the firm strokes of her small hand. She doesn't mind that when he comes it is all over her stomach: the thrill and exhilaration of it overcomes her. Still, she squeezes his legs between hers, rocking against him, searching for friction to fill her emptiness. Dana whines with frustration when Mulder turns them over, gently resting her on the other side of the couch. Wordlessly, he stands with purpose and a sheepish smile, turning about before disappearing behind the partition. 

Bracing herself, she sits up, curiosity piqued. “Mulder?” she calls out into the dimness of his apartment. Only the flicker of the light answered her as his shadow moved across it. He soon returns with a soft lens cloth, carefully cleaning up the mess he's left, shrugging when she raises an eyebrow at his instrument of choice. 

"I can always get another one.” 

The cloth is abandoned in favour of his mouth exploring the taste of her skin. She leans back again, watching as he descends down her body, finding his unfinished business between her thighs. He hums with approval at every reaction he garners from her: every gasp of breath, every twitch of her thighs, every buck of her hips. It is toe curling and breath stealing; pulse thrumming and head spinning; cushion clenching and muscle tensing; scream silenting and back arching. It is mouth-clampingly good.

----------

Two mis-matched cups of water drunk later, Dana is looking for her slacks and blouse where she left them behind the partition, now keenly aware of the chill that tickles her sweat-dampened skin. Sighing, she pulls the blouse over her head, letting the material hide the etching of a smirk at the corner of her mouth as it falls over her body. She hears Mulder approaching her from the other side of the divide, his weight making a different flank of wood creak with every footstep. She waits for him to say something, but the seconds pass and the silence drags.

“Mulder?” Dana hugs her blouse tight across her chest as she does up each button.

“I’m sorry: I was waiting for you to dress.”

Dana steps around to face him, fastening the catch on her slacks. “Why? You have already seen me naked once before.” The taunt in her voice and the coyness of her smile make him cast his eyes to the floor, blushing. 

“It would be rude to make a habit of it so soon.”

“But at a later date perhaps?”

His laugh makes her stomach flutter like paper butterflies.

“How are you travelling home?”

She quirks an eyebrow at his simple question.

“It is dark and late, and this city is not always the friendliest after hours.”

“I live not far from here, I should be fine,” she replies in a cool tone, not wanting to outstay her welcome and complicate an easy night of art, yet her emphasis is dullened by the yawn that catches her off guard. When she meets his eyes again, it is him who has the taunting look but a kind smile too. 

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like. I’ll crash on the couch, there’s a bed in the room in the back, and there’s some food in the cupboards I’m pretty sure, although I have to admit it’s been a while since I last checked: not much of a cook.”

She can feel another yawn working its way through her and suddenly her eyes feel heavy with the weight of the night. “Okay,” she sighs in defeat, the prospect of walking home seemingly growing more and more arduous, knowing it was further away than what she had made out to be. “But I won’t take your bed from you. I will be fine on the couch.”

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

An hour later, his fingers wander across her bare skin drawing idle patterns over her hip. Any other time, any other person, she would have found the gesture possessive, but she can feel the artistic dexterity in his fingers as he paints, soothing her rather than the opposite. Sleepily, she wonders why she feels so at ease with this stranger, but the thought is fleeting. Shuffling closer to him in his bed, she ignores her inner protests, reasoning that it would only become complicated if she let it.

Mulder wakes in the middle of the night and watches how the dim moonlight dances over the rise and fall of her sleeping form through the window. He briefly wonders what she would look like in the early rays of the morning sun, how her hair would set alight with an ethereal glow.

When he wakes in the morning, she is gone. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

Can you do 60 for indruck, NSFW? Thank you so much! Love your work!

Here it is! I set it in the same world as this sternclay fill. Credit to @bellafarallones for playing in this space on discord. Apollo is from my Super hero AU

“All I’m sayin is it seems mighty unfair to me that one fella gets a handler-assistant type deal and the rest of us don’t.” Duck crosses his arms as Ned fiddles with the pen on his desk.

“You’re not wrong, dear boy, but Apollo was in high demand from the higher ups-”

“Because he’s a shallow dipshit with a mean streak who’ll be good for ratings?”

“Precisely. He demanded in his contract that we allow his twin to continue his work as his photographer and assistant. He has over a million followers on Instagram, so those photos will be a boost to the show. Just try to get along for the camera’s?”

“His brother ain’t even on camera.” Duck mutters.

“I meant with Apollo.”

Duck shrugs, defeated, “sure thing, Ned.”

As he walks back to the main house, he mulls over the fact that the twin (Indrid, he thinks that’s the guys name) bugs him more than Apollo does. Apollo is vain, mean, and selfish, but at least that gets him things, even makes sense for the kind of show they’re on. Indrid gains nothing by helping him out here. Except protection from the bully, which Duck finds to be the worst kind of cowardice. Hopefully Vincent, this season’s bachelor, will see through the “influencer” and send him packing ASAP.

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

Four weeks in, and this is exactly what Duck was worried about. Not only is Indrid hovering around his brother like a nervous moth (excet when cameras are near, at which point he ducks out of frame), he’s doing fucking nothing to reign him in.

A few frontrunners are starting to emerge, and with that claws are coming out. Barclay, a chef and all around nice guy, is the target of choice. Nico and Josh both took bites out of him this morning. But Apollo sunk his teeth in like a dog on a fox, calling him, among other things, a pathetic, six-foot puppy dog who no man would ever want. The cook left noticeably teary eyed. Duck was about to block the cameras from following when Joseph beat him to it. Which is weird, because he thought Joe couldn’t stand Barclay. Apollo flounces off, but Duck corners Indrid where he’s been stoically watching his brother be a raging asshole.

“What the fuck man?”

‘Wrong twin.” Indrid says flatly, indicating his silver hair, tied back in a half-bun. His dark roots are showing and his eyebrows are black, unlike Apollo’s immaculate blonde dye job and bleached brows.

“Nope, right one. You’re his handler, cant’ you fuckin intervene when he’s doin’ shit like that? Or are you just here to let him hurt whoever he feels like?”

Indrid fixes him with a bitter smile, “If there were a way to make my brother be kind or, indeed, see others as people, don’t you think I’d have found it and used it everyday since?”

“I-”

“You people have no idea how much I’m already doing. I kept him from going after you yesterday by reminding him he looks ugly when he yells on camera. And if nothing else console yourself with the fact you all have only to deal with him for a few months. Some of us have endured twenty-eight years of it.”

With that, he turns and stalks from the room. As he leaves, Duck can’t shake the thought that his black denim jacket and worn jeans fit him better than Apollo’s designer ones ever could.

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

Indrid understands why there’s so much alcohol on set, but he can’t partake (too bitter) and it makes Apollo even harder to handle than usual. Which is why Indrid is out on the grounds at ten p.m, intending to hide from his brother until dawn.

At six weeks in, fan favorites are getting more established and Indrid, needing to predict Apollo’s mood in order to do his job, is keeping a close eye on them. His twin is well-liked for being snarky and hot, though he suspects the large number of contestants means there have been limited chances for his unpleasant side to be showcased. Joseph is another, because of course he is, movie-star handsome with an interesting past. Barclay is beloved for the very things that the other contestants torment him for. And Duck? Duck is quickly becoming the one people think Vincent will choose.

Indrid thinks they’re right. He’s charming in an understated way, funny, and while Apollo needles him for his “dad bod,” Indrid and Vincent have both noticed the muscles in his arms. Who gives a damn about flat abs? Indrid would much rather have something soft to rest his head on while those green eyes look lovingly down at him. His crush on Duck is useless, persistent, and must be hidden from Apollo at all costs.

His foot catches something solid and he tumbles over the obstacle to land ass-first on the lawn.

“Ow.” He glares at the object. The object turns out to be Duck Newton, who's obviously drunk as he sits up.

“Sorry man, thought no one’d come out here. Oh it’s you, it's, uh, fuck, fuck c'mon” he snaps his fingers as he searches his thoughts, “It's cute Apollo!”

“Indrid.” Surely Duck didn’t mean to use that adjective. Right?

“No, I’m Duck?”

He snickers, “No, I meant I’m Indrid.”

“Ohhh, right. You're Indrid. I'm Duck. That's the big dipper” He points at the sky. Indrid follows the line and grins, delighted.”

“It is!”

“Uhhuh. C'mere, can show you more.” Duck pats the spot beside him and lays back. Indrid scoots closer and reclines as well, making appreciative sounds each time Duck shows him a constellation.

As they’re studying the sky, the other man whispers, “Can I tell you a secret? I, I think Joe’n Barclay are into each other now."

“The way they look at each other is not exactly subtle.”

‘“Heh, yeah.” he links his hands across his belly, “I think they're in love. You ever been in love?”

“No.” He sighs, not wanting to dwell on that pile of baggage, “You?”

“Nope. And, uh, don’t, don’t tell anyone but I don't think I am with Vincent. Maybe I could be? Does that make me a bad person? He's nice, think he likes me a lot but, I, I dunno.”

“Not being in love with someone doesn’t make you a bad person. No more than loving someone does.”

Indrid is hard to surprise; years of getting out ahead of his brother and father taught him how to see things coming. But nothing could prepare him for Duck rolling to hide his face against Indrid’s chest. Not knowing what else to do, he pats his back, notices a woodsy scent tingling his nose.

“You smell good.” He winces; that was too creepy, now Duck will pull the comforting bulk of his body away.

“Thanks. I bought a bunch of cologne when I realized I was actually going to be a contestant. News clothes too. Thought it would give me an edge but...I dunno, can't compete with a guy like your brother.”

“Join the club.” Indrid reaches up to toy with a lock of Duck’s black hair, expecting Duck to bat him away. Instead, he sighs and turns his head to give Indrid better access.

“You could compete with ‘im. You're cuter. Nicer too.”

“Oh. Ah. Thank you.”

Duck’s fidgets with the mothman pin on Indrid’s jacket, “You wanna cuddle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No one cuddles with me. And we ain’t allowed to cuddle Vincent yet.” He looks up, lips pouting just enough to be charming.

Indrid let’s a purr enter his voice, “That’s a shame. I’m happy to cuddle.”

Duck rolls more of his body onto Indrid, resolutely nestling his head under his chin and tangling their legs together. His hands stay on Indrid’s chest and shoulders, though he’s now drunkenly petting Indrid’s collarbone, making him shiver. He expends four months worth of daring in a second, wrapping his arms around the curves of Duck’s torso. When Duck’s fingers brush skin instead of shirt, Indrid whimpers, then bites his lip and prays it went unnoticed.

“You don’t get cuddled much either, do you?” Duck murmurs thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Damn shame, you’re real good at it. Can cuddle me any time.”

Indrid “mmhmms” knowing the promise is like the stars; bright and comforting in the darkness, but ultimately beyond his reach.

Three day later, he drops his guard; Apollo’s been on his good behavior since Vincent’s been spending more time with him. You’d think Indrid would learn by now that all his venom has to go somewhere.

He’s huddled down in the rec room trying not to cry; it’s pathetic enough that he let such childish insults get to him, but to cry over them would confirm everything his brother said.

“Indrid? You, uh, you okay?” Duck’s reflection in the darkened T.V approaches his own.

“I'm fine.” It’s the same inflection he’s used hundreds of times, but Duck sits down on the couch all the same.

“Do you, uh, need a hug?’

“No.” He replies a hair too quickly.

“Do you want one?”

“......Badly.”

Duck opens his arms and Indrid shifts on the cushions, doing his best to curl his long limbs so they’ll fit in his embrace. The shorter man notices, concern flashing on his face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay. You, uh, wanna hear the most exciting news of the day?” He waits for Indrid to nod, “there was a cougar sightin’ in the foothills near here!”

“That is both very exciting and alarming.”

“Doubt it’d go after folks, they try to steer clear of people. We don’t have ‘em back home, but you learn what to do when you’re also learnin how to deal with bears.”

“How does one deal with a bear? Other than buying them a drink.”

Duck snorts, relaxes further into the couch, “Depends on how soon you see ‘em…”

They emerge two hours later, and Indrid is so engrossed in their conversation about hiking incidents that he runs smack into a camera man. While he’s apologizing profusely, Duck guffaws, steadies him, and leads him off in search of somewhere to watch the sunset.

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

“Oooh, ooh, look, sea lions!” Indrid points to the distant wharf.

“Good eye. Man, those fuckers are big. Glad none of ‘em were in the water when we did that fuckin cliff dive.”

“I for one would pay good money to see my brother chased by a sea lion.”

Duck chuckles, pops the tab on his WhiteClaw. They’re having dinner on the beach, a gourmet spread meant to encourage them to show off their pallets. Indrid took Barclay’s recommendation and ordered the whole, grilled snapper, which he assumed he’d be eating alone; Vincent’s attention has been on Duck ever since he went swimming this morning. Duck seems to be enjoying it, but come dinner time he demurred (“gotta let some of the other fellas have a chance”) and brought his basket of fried oysters over to join Indrid on the sand.

“Speakin of your brother, kinda surprised he didn't make any digs at this whole, uh, situation.” Duck gestures to the torso Indrid is currently aching to lick droplets of saltwater from. To subdue the craving, he licks salt from his fingers before replying.

“I, ah, the last time he tried to, I reminded him of all the pictures I have of him eating. He hates to be seen eating. Most of the time.” He tilts his head towards his twin, who’s chowing down next to Vincent without a care for the cameras. Indrid sets his hand on the warm sand, “I’ve been trying to, well, reign him in as you suggested. Or at least make him think twice about his choices.”

(Indrid omits the part where he’s most likely to risk it if Duck is the one with the target on his back).

Duck sets his hand down beside Indrid’s, brushes sand from the side of it with a calloused thumb, “Mighty good of you. But, uh, think I mighta read things wrong that day. You gotta handle him how you think best. Just, uh, just promise me you won’t sacrifice your own well-bein’ for my sake, or anyone else’s. We’re all grown-ass men; we can handle it.”

“I promise.” He lies.

The other man leans back on his hands, green eyes drifting across the waves. Indrid would gladly sit in silence the rest of the night, it’s so easy to be comfortable in the lull when it’s Duck filling the space beside him.

Eventually, the ranger murmurs, “It’s so fuckin breathtaking. The ocean, I mean. Maybe if you live on a coast you get used to it but man, it is somethin;.”

“More so than the forest?”

Duck smiles, “It’s like apples and oranges. Monongahela got its own charms; you’d have a blast takin pictures and drawin there, believe me. If, uh, if Apollo and I both make it to the final four, uh, maybe we could take a few hours durin’ my hometown visit and I could show you my favorite spot.

Indrid imagines the two of them beneath the trees, walking hand in hand.

“I’d like that.”

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

“You know you’re just a distraction, right?”

Indrid doesn’t look at his brother, just flips the page in his book, “I doubt that. You’ve said, often, that I’m too off-putting to be interesting.”

“Not when there’s competition for someone superior; Duck knows he might not win. You’re his back-up if he doesn’t, and a way to kill time until the end. Once Vincent sends him home, which he most definitely will, he’ll keep you around until something better comes along.”

“Don’t act like you know him.” Indrid hisses, looking up just in time to see something scurrying behind the triumph on Apollo’s face: fear.

So, his brother has a new weakness. He’ll tuck that away for later; this is shaping up to be an unpleasant conversation, but not one requiring quite that degree of weapon.

“You should thank me. If I weren’t so captivating, Vincent would spend all his time with Duck. Then you’d be without any attention at all. Even Duck’s taste isn’t that abysmal.” He grins his several thousand dollar smile, “he and Vincent are probably laughing about it right now.”

Indrid stands, crosses the tiny room, “Shut up, Apollo.”

Then he slams the door. There’s a yelp, followed by “you hit my nose, you pathetic excuse for a man, ow, open this door this instant I’m not done with you!”

He flicks the lock and sits back on the bed. There’s a tin of sensory putty on his nightstand and he opens it, playing with it between his fingers. Duck brought it for him after a museum date with Vincent. The image of him not only thinking of Indrid when he saw something, but then buying it for him just to see him smile makes him want to grin and hide his face in a pillow like a teenager who just got asked to prom.

But maybe this date is going differently.

Indrid squeezes the putty, repeats the mantra he’s had since he was a child, “Apollo always lies. Apollo always lies.”

Eventually, he’s calm enough to work on some tattoo commissions, is coloring away when there’s a knock on the door. A secret knock Duck invented as a goof. Throwing open the door reveals the shorter man wearing a suit jacket and an exhausted expression. Indrid gestures to the bed, shuts and locks the door as Duck slumps on the mattress and sets his head in his hands.

“Whelp, that was a shit-show.”

“What happened?” Indrid sits cross-legged beside him.

“Vincent went in for a kiss and I, uh, I turned him down. I mean, he took it well because he’s a sweet guy but I, I feel like shit.”

“There’s no shame in not wanting to kiss just yet.”

“That ain’t the problem. I, I wanna kiss someone on this set, but it ain’t him. Indrid” he looks up, green eyes watery, “Indrid, I think I’m fallin in love with you.”

“Oh. I, are you sure-”

“The whole night, and I mean the whole fuckin night, I was thinkin about you. Thought how nice the trip to the botanical gardens would be with you there to point out color combos and get excited about butterflies. Wanted to hold your hand over dinner. Fuck, when they brought out the dessert menu all I could think was how fun it’d be to order one of each thing to surprise you so you’d do that thing you do with your hands when you’re real excited.” Duck turns, sets his hands on Indrid’s shoulders, “‘Drid, if you don’t want this, I’ll back off but-”

Indrid cuts him off with a kiss, let’s strong arms pull him down to the bed and presses as close to Duck as he can, as if any space between them might be a way for the universe to push them apart.

“Than fuck” Duck pants, cupping his face, “wait, fuck, what do we do now? I can’t string poor Vincent on.”

“We’ll get them to let you out of your contract. It can’t be that hard, right?”

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

“Absolutely not” Ned shakes his head, “dropping out of the show is out of the question.”

“But that ain’t fair to any of us. Can we at least tell Vincent the truth?”

“No, it needs to look as if he naturally decided not to choose you. If not, we could be accused of manipulating results; the last time that happened, the ratings tanked for that season and the next. And my predecessor was fired.”

Duck looks at Indrid, “Guess I’ll just...pull back? That way Vincent won’t have a reason to choose me and’ll let me go soon.”

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

“Droppin out is outta the question, huh?” Duck mutters to Indrid as they watch Barclay and Joseph walk off holding hands, the host eagerly asking them questions as they go.

“I suppose he didn’t drop so much as sprint.” Indrid glances at the rose in Duck’s hand, “congratulations on making the final...well, final three now.”

“Thanks? Guess Apollo’s pretty happy about it too.”

“Yes, but his ego needs no stroking.” Indrid smiles, “maybe this means you’ll get to show me the woods?”

“I hope so. Huh. What are they gonna do with the rest of us when it’s not our turn for the hometown visit?”

The answer turns out to be: drag everyone to each hometown. Because they no longer have Joe’s trip to do, Ned decided they needed more scenes of the contestants exploring where their competitors came from.

Kepler is first, and tonight is the night Duck’s been dreading. His romantic, home-town date that everyone expects to end with at least some kissing. He manages to make it through dinner, even enjoys showing Vincent the down-town he spent years roaming. But as they start down the river walk for a romantic stroll, his heart is trying to smash its way out of his ribs.

“It’s alright, you know.” Vincent stops, guiding Duck to face him, “the fact you want to be with Indrid.”

“I, uh, fuck, I, I don’t not know, uh, fuck-” he closes his eyes, “how’d you know?”

“I’m more observant than I get credit for.” Vincent brushes his cheek, “I’ve had a hunch for weeks now, but I kept you around because I liked having you here, even if I suspected it wasn’t going to end with us together. I’m very fond of you, Duck. You deserve someone who makes you happy. I promise I’ll send you home this next rose ceremony”

“Christ” Duck chuckles, “you’re a hell of a guy too, Vince. I hope whoever you pick treats you right. I, uh, can I, should we…?”

Vincent plants a chaste kiss on his cheek, then smiles, “go get him.”

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

“Any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Apollo grumbles as he takes another card. Given Duck and Vincent are on their date, neither he nor Indrid is having a good night. Before Indrid can make his ask, his twin says, “How do you get people to like you?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made it this far, so obviously Vincent likes you a great deal”

“I don’t just mean him. I, I mean, I want him to like me. To want me. But I suspect he’d like me better if other people did.”

Indrid idly taps his cards, “I suggest you stop acting like our father.”

“I’m nothing like him!” Apollo squawks.

“Oh, but you are. Everything he taught us you still hold as true; you’re just the newest version of men like him. Self-absorbed. Cruel. Shallow. I’m amazed you’ve gotten this far with Vincent, given that the age difference means you’d be caring for him in his old age.”

“I, I can care for him. I will!”

“Apollo, I wouldn’t trust you to care for a potted plant.” He sets his cards down.

“At least I’m not a-”

“Ambitionless deviant who has to ride his brother’s coattails to survive?”

“Wha--how-”

“Like I said; you’re just like him. Down to your insults.” Indrid stands, “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

His brother remains speechless--a rare state for him--as he closes the door and heads for his room. He doubts Duck will do anything on the date (hell, the two of them have only been able to steal some kisses now and then), but the whole charade has him feeling low.

There are far more cameras in the rented house than there were a few hours ago. Which means the rest of the crew is back. Does that also mean…

“Hey, sugar. I was just lookin for you.”

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

Duck’s glad his door is open, because otherwise Indrid would have smashed it to pieces dragging them both through it. He’d only gotten out the barest explanation before the taller man was kissing his face and tugging at his clothes, purring “mine” over and over again.

“Yep, all yours.” He shuts the door as Indrid mouths at his neck, “which also means you’re all mine.” He yanks Indrid’s black sweater up and over his head, sends the matching t-shirt after it a moment later. Indrid whines, fumbling with Duck’s dress shirt, and he gets an idea.

“Uh uh, only good boys who show me why they deserve it get to feel me up.”

Indrid groans into his shoulder, fisting the fabric of his jacket “What constitutes good behavior in this instance?”

“One sec, don’t go nowhere.” He starts to step past him, pauses to grips his chin and pull him into another kiss, “and no peekin.”

As he digs through his bag for the strap on he brought just in case, he keeps an eye on Indrid to be sure he’s following the directions. The taller man’s fingers twitch, but his head stays still. God, Duck is going to memorize the shape of each of the tattoos decorating his skin with his mouth.

“You did real good.” He slips around Indrid once more, resting his back on the wall. Indrid notices the new bulge in his pants and thuds to his knees.

“May I?”

“You better.”

Indrid undoes the button of his fly. Then he looks at Duck over the rim of his glasses as he takes the zipper between his teeth and pulls it down. When the black silicone of the strap breaks free, Indrid cocks his head as if unsure of his options. Duck doesn’t really have a plan--he just wants to be with him, to make him feel good and show him just what weeks of pent-up desire have done to him--but he’s starting to regret that choice.

Indrid flicks hair from his face and wraps his lips around the head of the cock experimentally. He hums, sucking on it a moment, then pulls back blushing, “This is going to sound strange but, ah, I, I really like that. It’s such a lovely texture on my tongue, it’s, it’s almost soothing to suck.”

“Guess you better keep suckin it then, huh?” Duck runs the fingers of his right hand through Indrid’s hair.

“Is that really alright? It can’t feel like much on your end.”

“Don’t mean it ain’t fun to watch. But, uh” he touches the edge of Indrid’s red glasses, “it okay if I take these off?”

Indrid nods and Duck slides them free, tucks them into his breast pocket for safekeeping as Indrid draws the cock into his mouth again. He focuses on the head at first, humming and moaning as it bumps his cheek. Then Duck sees him swallow and relax the muscles of his jaw as he presses closer. Little puffs of breath tickle Duck’s skin as Indrid gets most of the cock in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and head bobbing as he sucks. Hungry noises burlbe up his throat, and the more he lets himself go the messier he becomes, spit coating his lips and eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Okay, I lied.”

Brown eyes shoot him a disbelieving look.

“This ain’t fun. This is one of the hottest fuckin things I’ve ever seen.”

Indrid wiggles happily on his knees, left hand dropping to rubs his own cock through his jeans.

“Needy little thing, gotta have somethin down your throat and around your dick at the same time.”

“MMMhhmmm” Indrid purrs, the picture of filthy perfection.

“If, if you swallow the whole thing, I’ll let you finger-fuck me.”

Both hands fly to his thighs with an excited moan. Indrid’s brow crinkles with determination as he slowly, carefully brings his lips to the base of the toy. Duck groans out “good boy” and shoves his pants down, Indrid helping to drag them to his ankles. Indrid keeps his left hand on Duck’s hip while the right hovers below his folds. Duck takes it, the toy making the angle a bit awkward, and guides it against him.

“Start with one.”

Indrid nods, moans reverently as he obeys. Duck curses, looks down to find Indrid watching him attentively. Duck is going to wreck him. Then he’s going to cuddle him to sleep and wonder at the fact he got this lucky.

“You’re doin’ great, sugar. Promise I’ll tell you if you need to adjustOH, ohyeah” he lets his head rest against the chipped white of the door, “that’s the spot. Fuck it, add one more, Ahfuck, yeah, those artists fingers are fuckin perfect for this.”

Another purr and then a sharp, choked noise. Duck looks down, realizing he rolled his hips without meaning to. Before he can apologize, Indrid grips his thigh and shakes his head.

“You like that?”

“Mmhhmmm” Indrid traces a heart on his belly.

“You’ll pull off you need to?”

“Mhmmmm.” Indrid curls his fingers as his stretched lips manage to grin.

“Fuck!” Duck giggles, “okay, if my darlin wants his face fucked, that’s what he’ll get.” He keeps a hand on Indrid’s shoulder as he lets loose, grunts and curses mingling with the increasingly wet moans of his cock claiming Indrid’s throat. Soon he’s out of words, too busy with the sight of himself forcing Indrid’s lips apart as he tightens around his fingers. Handjobs are a toss-up for him most days; sometimes they work, other times he can’t cum from them at all. It turns out what makes it very easy to do so is-

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, sugar, yeah, right there, rightthererightthere ohfuckyeah.” He cums, jerking his hips hard enough to punch a new, high sound from Indrid’s throat. The other man pulls off, rests his cheek on Duck’s belly with shuddery, satisfied sighs.

“Y’know” Duck unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up so Indrid can more easily nuzzle the skin there, “I had this whole plan where I was gonna fuck you with this and then ride your face to cum.”

“I’m not opposed.” Indrid grins, bouncing a bit.

“Yeah, but I’ve only got one in me tonight. So” He tosses the shirt away, pulls off the harness as Indrid nibbles his hips, “if you wanna cum, you’re gonna have to do all the work.”

An edge enters his smile, “I can manage that.”

Duck hits the floor with a whump, Indrid trapping him on his back and climbing atop him, all the while kissing him with abandon.

“May I fuck you?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Condom?”

“Dop kit, bathroom, aw come back.”

“Patience, sweetheart” Indrid blows him a kiss, returns a few moments later doing an inelegant dance to kick his jeans and boxers away, “got one!”

“Good, now get back down here before I-AHfuck!” Indrid is on him and in him so fast it knocks his breath away.

“Before what? You’re not going anywhere, you’re mine, alllllll mine.” He drags kisses across Duck’s cheek, then bites his chapped lip as he looks down at him, “right?”

“You know it, nnng, fuck, that’s it sugar, be a good boy and cum for me. Fuck, darlin, wanted this so bad.” He locks his fingers into silver hair to keep Indrid in kissing distance as the other man whimpers, thrusts shallow and rabbity.

“Want you too, so much, I’ll be worth it, I swear, I’ll be good, I’ll, I’ll make you so happy.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “You already do.”

There’s a high, gasping moan, almost like a chirp, and Indrid rides out his orgasm in drawn-out rolls of his hips. Then he collapses, laughing, on Duck’s chest.

“I, I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d get this. Someone wanting me. Choosing me.”

“I mean, I went on a T.V show to find love, so I know a little somethin about that fear. But I also know findin you is better than anythin I ever imagined.”

“Likewise.” Indrid nestles closer, one hand reaching out to hold Duck’s where it’s flopped on the rug.

“...You realize this means there’s a fifty-fifty chance your brother will win.”

Indrid shrugs, lifts his head to smile at Duck, “I leave that to Vincent. I already got my prize.”

[hiuythn]

do u have any krbk fics that u can rec? any favorites of urs! ☺️

you’re in luck bc i just made a rec list for a friend so i have this ready for you

also i’ve got over 200 krbk bookmarks on ao3 so feel free to check that out if you finish this rec list.

all (except one) of these are completed. they're in no particular order. i tried to find ones that are less known, bc idk how much you've read but i'm assuming all the popular ones are familiar to you. happy reading! 💖💖💖

Inevitable - Legendaerie - 8k - mature CLASSIC 'bkg thinks they've been together and kiri thinks he's still pining' TROPE. it's INCOMPREHENSIBLE to me why this doesn't have more fucking kudos!!! why!!!

Tiny Truths - Quirk Archivist (OneHitWondersAnonymous) - 4k - teen bkg gets de-aged. kid him reveals sth to class 1a, more imptly, to KIRI, abt some ideas about what it means to open a hero agency together. it's super adorable!!

Punch My Mouth with Your Mouth - QuestCat44 - 4k - teen bkg spars with deku more bc OfA is acting up and he's the only one in the know. kiri gets jealous but he's so good-natured that his jealousy is only bc he misses sparring/spending time with bkg. BKG, on the other hand, is worried kiri is mad for different reasons asdkjfhasdhfa

all according to keikaku........... - carolinaa - 8k - teen the title should already tell you how good this is. I LOVE JEALOUSY FICS WHEN THEY'RE MORE FUNNY THAN ANGSTY AND THIS IS SO FUNNY. kiri gets tired of deku being a pussy around todo and decides to flirt with todo to get deku jealous enough to do sth about it. bkg and todo are both horrified for VERY different reasons DHADSKDFHJS

doll me up - shizuumi151 - 6k - gen kiri gets turned into a doll by a kid's quirk and no one knows. bkg still ends up caring for him :’)

These Words Are Ours - deviance - 2k - teen soulmate au but bkg figures who's going to say his words before it happens, and honestly that's kind of the point. he's not the type to fall in love at first sight. he MAKES the choice to love kiri and that, my friends, is my kind of soulmate au.

all good things need sunshine - shizuumi151 - 3k - teen FLORIST KIRI. BKG WANTS A BOUQUET THAT SAYS  'FUCK YOU'

Flour Power - WingSongHalo - 26k - teen KRBK HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF A BAG OF FLOUR AND PRETEND IT'S THEIR BABY

feedback loop - bigstupidjellyfish - 1k - teen PRO HERO BKG GETS THROWN BACK IN TIME FOR A BIT AND MEETS MIDDLE SCHOOL KIRI AND HE'S SO SOFT TO HIM ASDFHKASDFJ. i am a big fan of bkg being a fan of kiri. i can't get ENOUGH OF IT. can someone give me more fics like this

mixed signals - bigstupidjellyfish - 2k -teen a short 'what if' fic where kiri and bkg went to the same middle school. bkg's still an ass but kiri's still his equal it seems, and is just as good as handling him as ever

Trash Goblin Finds Love - wrunic - 4k - teen COFFEE SHOP AU. BARISTA   KIRI GETS SICK ONE TIME AND BKG MAKES HIM SOUP AND FORCES KIRI'S COWORKER TO DELIVER IT ASDJHFS

Dreaming of a White Mocha Christmas - let_me_wander - 8k - teen ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP AU.  BARISTA KIRI AND HIS FAV CUSTOMER ;) GET SNOWED IN  

Something Warm - let_me_wander - 15k - teen YES FOLKS IT'S A A A ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP FIC, THAT'S RIGHT!! BARISTA BKG THIS TIME. also kr is in a band and writes a song for bkg asdfhksjd

Kneel - deviance - 7k - explicit idk if you wanted explicit stuff but this is pretty light sub stuff, they're not even properly together at the beginning, and there isn’t sex til the end. i just liked how kiri is the only one bkg would rely on for sth this private, and it's more emotional than it is sexual?

Everyone Knows That Cats Are Independent - PurplePersnickety - 39k - teen YET. ANOTHER. COFFEE SHOP AU. but also?? daemons?? katsuki's got a lionness, and kiri has a...i'll let you find out. anyway they become closer and closer and closer and the flirting is so fucking excruciatingly obvious but cute and sdkjfhasdjs it's such a queer experience like 'is he...no he cant be...but what if he did like me - no that's not possible. but what if?' and they get so domestic sometimes i swear i'm about to puke from how cute it is. this is my fav coffee shop au ngl

Broken Bridges - DeathBelle - 68k - explicit plot fic!! krbk loses touch after gradutation. kiri comes back from korea and starts to work together with bkg, dealing with a series of murders and MAN the action is 👌 easy to follow but it hits all the beats, has that Flow. krbk being a power couple will never get old!!

Of Ghosts and other Inaccurate Things - chezka - 56k - gen pretty sure you've seen this one around but STILL. BKG FALLING FOR 'GHOST' KIRI IS BEST. this au really takes FULL COMPLETE advantage of the fact that krbk CANNOT TOUCH and the yearning practically astral-projected me back into the my past life when i was a dung beetle that got crushed under the foot of an elephant. it hurt, basically. but it hurt so good. JUST LET BKG HUG KIRI!!! happy ending ofc.

Catching Bees - MonocerosRex - 2k - teen bkg has to pay his classmates compliments. class 1a hijinks. the krbk in this is short but it made me squeal sdhfkakjl

i'm going to the forest to kick my own ass - WannabeMarySue - 5k - teen TODO PRANKS BKG BUT UNLUCKY FOR HIM BKG IS COMPETITIVE AND ACTUALLY LEARNS SOMETHING

Hair Care 101 - overlymetaromantic - 7k - gen ASDHFASDFHAJKS KIRI MEETS BKG'S MOM BY ACCIDENT AND GETS HAIR HELP AND THEY TALK ABOUT BKG AND IT'S SO. CUTE. AND THEN BKG DYES KR'S HAIR IN THE SECOND CHAPTER AND THEY'RE SO BLUSHY AND SWEET I CAN'T!!

Sometimes We Fall in the Dark - timetoboldlygo - 16k - teen BKG TAKING PHOTOS OF THINGS FOR THERAPY. YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT HOW YOU PHOTOGRAPH THINGS YOU TREASURE 👀👀👀

Corn Chip - smol_bird - 23k - teen I DONT FUCKIGN KNOW WHY THIS DOESN'T HAVE MORE KUDOS. IT'S LITERALLY SO GOOD. DEMON KIRI IS JOKINGLY SUMMONED BY BKG AND FRIENDS. THEY FALL IN LOVE. KIRI HAS TO LEAVE. BKG IS DETERMINED NOT TO LET THAT HAPPEN. HAPPY ENDING. WHAT ELSE COULD YOU ASK FOR

'cause i love you for infinity - multiclassmaps - 23k - teen SDHFADSJFASD DEMON AU AGAIN. THIS TIME IT'S KIRI THAT DOES THE SUMMONING. BUT WHY DOES BKG SEEM SO FAMILIAR??? WHAT CAN KIRI DO TO MAKE HIM STAY??

to the beat of your heart - drifting_i - 8k - gen BAND AU. KIRI WORKS AT A RESTAURANT AND SOMEHOW BEFRIENDS DRUMMER BKG AND BKG'S BAND CAN'T BELIEVE THAT KIRI GETS AWAY WITH HALF THE SHIT BKG ALLOWS HIM TO

Playing Favorites - vaporeon_ninja - 2k - gen AKSDJFHJADHFKA BKG GETS CALLED OUT ON HIS KIRI FAVOURITISM

(Not Quite) Proposal - imatrisarahtops - 783 - teen DRUNK BKG IS SAPPY WITH HIS BOYF

something worth remembering - bbuggs - 1k - teen DRUNK BKG AGAIN!!! THIS TIME HE DOESN'T REMEMBER KIRI IS HIS HUSBAND AND HE'S SO DISTRAUGHT ABOUT KIRI BEING TAKEN SDFJHSK

A Dragon's Hoard - chezka - 10k - teen kiri gets turned into a dragon bc of a quirk. LOVE HOW DRAGON KIRI STILL LIKES BKG BEST

Love Notes - PurplePersnickety - 5k - teen LOVE NOTES BKG LEAVES LOVE NOTES FOR KIRI IT'S SO SWEET

Define: Oblivious - PurplePersnickety - 45k - teen this is the second part to Love Notes, it's still updating BUT PLEASE CHECK IT OUT TOO BC KIRI DOES STH SO BADASS DURING PRACTICAL TRAINING I LOVE HIM I REREAD THIS NOW AND THEN JUST FOR HOW COOL HE IS IN THAT ONE CHAPTER. also the steady, careful way krbk define their relationship and bkg's demisexuality is so sweet, so good.

The Hard Easy - dirtbag - 4k - teen this one is pretty popular but i still gotta mention it bc. kissing lessons. KISSING LESSONS!!! i love how eagar bkg is askdfhks

Kitsune's Pride - kytrin, Mslead - 147k - explicit okay this was A DOOZY like i???? the plot???? the time travel and the oni and kitsune stuff???? bkg and kiri being badasses??? bkg wanting the best for kiri and angrily supporting him??? this was the first time i kept up to date with a fic when it was still updating and commenting every chapte,r i was so hooked. and ALSO like the authors have written SO MUCH more longfics like this like they have NOVELS and i REALLY rec you check them out like....bro idk how they do they have so much out already and i think and they're updating two more rn and i'm. their bitch tbh

Burden of Proof - kytrin, Mslead - 153k - explicit OK ONE MORE REC FOR THESE AUTHORS. burden of proof is so. so fcukign good. i have adhd and these guys have never one lost me even tho their fics are upwards of 60k. this fic has dragons, it has plot, it has growth and healing and found families and i WISH i could write sth this intricate.

Burger Kings - plantegg - 5k - teen stupid teenage boys being stupid. kiri blackmails bkg into going on a date asjdfhkdsjfakd

Worth a Thousand Words - awareoftheconcept - 43k - teen SDKJFHASKH THIS IS A GUILTY PLEASURE OF MINE I KNOW THE LACK OF COMMUNICATION TROPE IS OVERUSED BUT I CAN'T HELP FALL FOR ANGSTY KIRI AND OMG THE CONFRONTATION SCENE AT THE END IS SO. SO. SO MOVIE-ESQUE I HATE HOW LAME I AM. basically everyone thinks bkg is dating camie asdkjfhskd

Day 6: Fandom - PullingAllMighters, SweetBrew - 9k - mature bkg and kiri don't know each other until they're pro heros and only bc they start a competition to see who's better and they go to each other's signings undercover and develop crushes on each other and deku is an enABLER ASHAHAJFS

Scales Ain't The Same As Feathers - Julietwasanidiot - 2k - gen GOD THIS IS SO CUTE BABY BKG "FINDERS KEEPERS" A BABY DRAGON KIRI SKDHFHD but he thinks kiri is a chicken

Charades - orphan_account - 4k - teen this is just soft....game night....at one point bkg acts out a really romantic word for charades and he's EMBARRASSED SDJFHA. also kiri falls asleep on him and there's some hair stroking....soft...

Cranky-rishima - PurplePersnickety - 29k - teen kirishima is the one with nightmares in this one and he gets CRANKY and BKG has to be the one to reach out and i thought that was such a fresh reversal loved it

No Secrets to Success - kingdoms - 7k - teen THIS IS MY FAV!! MY ABSOLUTE FAV JUST BC I LOVE IT WHEN FICS MAKE PEOPLE GAPE IN AWE FROM HOW SOFT BKG IS WITH KIRI. also krbk forming their relationship outside of school in this au was so??? sweet??? it's just them hanging out together. ALSO KIRI IS SO GOOD AT POKING BKG'S BUTTONS ASJDFHASK

Built to Fall - bigstupidjellyfish - 68k - explicit pro heros fic. they had a bad breakup in third year and oh god the angst is QUALITY. DW THEY TOTALLY MAKE UP AND IT'S SO FCKN WORTH IT. bkg also got therapy so he’s a little more stable as an adult lol

A Name That You'll Remember - heronfem - 33k - mature bkg is a fail!villain. he fell in with the wrong crowd when he was younger. he doesn't actually do anything wrong. in fact, all of his 'crimes' are generally stopped by kiri and somehow all end up exposing corruption anyway, so he's actually helping. kids love bkg. he always makes sure they're safe before he robs a jewelry store or sth. somehow kiri ends up flirting with him in all their fights and bkg has no idea what to make of him. the public can't get enough of them

strawberry mango sweet - redriotinggg - 9k - teen it's just a really sweet smoothie shop au!!! it's good reliable fluff!! what else can you ask for!!

cultivating something so divine - redriotinggg - 10k - teen redriotinggg yet again, i love this au, it's vet!au and kiri is so good at loving animals that bkg hires him and they fall in love and it's also got some competency porn, as in krbk are hella good at their job like power couple ayy

Tension Reduction - acernor - 10k - explicit Kirishima is a massage therapist and Bakugo needs help relaxing.

Mistletoe? Mistletoe. - Tearsaresalty - 2k - teen class 1a keeps making bkg kiss kiri and neither of them really mind wow i wonder why 🙄

[searchingforbucky]

FIC RECS (Part 16) :)

Hey guys, so here it finally is. The CEO!Bucky Rec List. Sorry its taken so long for me to get this out, I really have just been feeling not so hot. So it took me a while to get it done. BUT its longer than usual to make up for they delay. Reading these made me feel a lot better, so I hope you guys like it! :)

(smuts are denoted with a ***, theres a lot of them haha)

Siren song by @jaamesbbarnes

OKAY LETS START THIS OFF WITH A BANG! This is the first Bucky CEO story I’ve ever read, and it was like an amazing Segway into this AU. So reader has a crush on her boss, he supposedly doesn’t like her back, so she joins a dating website where she meets this mysterious guy and falls in love. Crazy right? Even more so that it’s actually her boss?? This was a fantastic story filled with mutual pining, fluff, some perfectly timed angst, but most of all, some of the softest Bucky towards the end that I have ever been blessed to read. I want him to talk to me like that :( really loved this one!

All My Stars by @moonstruckbucky

Let’s go right into another amazing story. So this one is about Bucky boring FCC a new assistant, one who he basically falls in love with, and oh holy hell shes engaged. Let’s see how this turns out. So I will say it’s not finished yet, but I think what’s there is amazing enough to warrant a place on this list! Meg is a genius in how she writes the dynamic between characters. You feel for all of them no matter what, Bucky is detached and the reader is oblivious and you just want to shove them together like dolls and make them fall in love! It’s definitely a rollercoaster ride, and I’m excited to possibly see where it ends up :) 

Chocolate Truffles by @soldatjbb

OH THIS ONE IS SO SWEET! Okay so this one is about the reader wanting to give her boss Bucky Barnes chocolate on Valentine’s Day, when she sees she got some flowers. So when I say sweet I mean tooth rotting fluff holy hell I loved it. They’re both the biggest shy dorks who obviously have feeling for them and it really made my heart swell to ungodly proportions it was not okay. Bucky is the sweetest most nervous boy, and the reader isn’t much better. In a matter of like 1k words I was already immersed and invested in this possible relationship it was crazy! Amazing 

Pleasure and Business by @notimetoblog

OK wow, this one is just fantastic. So James and the reader are set to make a deal. So there’s something about this one that’s just really mysterious, like throughout the whole story you kind a know what’s going on but also you don’t, it’s a really good story and really unique when it comes to CEOs stories because the reader seems to hold the place of power as well, I also really really love the dynamic between the two characters because it’s really playful and loving and lighthearted even in this business setting, and I never really completely got what The business deal they were making was, but honestly it doesn’t even matter because the story was so good.

A very important phone call by @suz-123 ***

LOL, OK so this one. All I’ll say, is that the reader is Buckys good luck charm, and he needed it for a specific business call. This one was a trip. it was filthy, but written so well. And just the general storyline, while he’s on the phone made it exciting like not just because it was sexy but because it was just really like oh my God what’s going to happen is he going to get caught?! And man Bucky has a mouth on him, but I’m not gonna spoil it but let me just tell you, Suz has a way with endings. I genuinely didn’t expect it and That made it that much more awesome

The Man by @interestedbystanderwrites ***

Oof! This one! Now this one was amazing. So this one was about the raider going to her exes wedding, when she meets Bucky Barnes, who just so happens to own the hotel the wedding is held that. there are night leads to some down and dirty times, which is how all times like these should. This one was just really fun to read, because not only was it smut but it was also interwoven into a storyline, and at the end you’re really left wanting more. There’s a little hint of sugar daddy in there at the end, which makes it like even more interesting. Super good.

Late nights at the office by @after-avenging-hours ***

Oh I love this one! And I think I love it because it’s a really amazing mix of the storyline, and really well written smut. So this one is about Bucky being the readers boss, and there’s a deal coming up so he sends her a request to get something done by a day that causes miscommunication between them. So I really like this one because Bucky isn’t portrayed as like a jerk boss as he is and some other stories which is really refreshing, like he was genuinely sad that there was that miscommunication and she stayed after, and I think that made it all the more rewarding when they didn’t have sexy times because you actually really liked both characters. And it was well written, and you were left wanting to know what goes on with them in the future. Lovely.

Surprise visit by @imaginingbucky

okay so I really love this one. It’s super sweet, Bucky is a very busy CEO, and the reader is an extremely patient and understanding girlfriend. It was really cute, especially the end. I love stories like this where Bucky is genuinely a good guy who loves his girlfriend and understands that he’s not being the most available to her. I love seeing the moment he realized he needed to do something, and honestly just seeing healthy relationships in fics is so refreshing, and it was really well written.

Not interested by @promarvelfangirl

Ohhhhh this one is like an OG favorite of mine. So this one is about suave cocky Bucky Barnes getting everything he wants in life, until you. The reader comes in and shakes his whole world and it’s the cutest. Seeing the tension they have throughout the story is exciting, but my absolute favorite part was the fact that throughout the story you can see his love her her change from lust to love, or at least that’s how I saw it. And like you also got to know him and understand him over time. It was a great read, unique story line, loved it!

Sweet Life by @jalepenobarnes

Okay! So now we have a man awesome POC!reader story!! I love this one, I don’t know if I would qualify it as a series of oneshots but maybe that’s what it is, either way it’s great. So it’s a series of moments that showcase certain parts of the readers life and her relationship with Bucky. This is just a really sweet story, it really showcases the life of a POC In the discriminating world, especially when it comes to business, and it really opened my eyes to how I read these stories. Bucky is also super sweet, When he loves, he loves hard and with his whole self and you can really see it in this story. It’s beautiful. 

Right person wrong number by @propertyofpoeandbucky

Okay! So this one I loved. It’s about the reader moving to New York to start a new life after a breakup. She wants to be a photographer, and in that time, she received a text from a wrong number. Let the whirlwind romance begin! It’s cute, it’s funny, it’s SOFT BUCKY! It’s really just a whole package haha. Also check out her other fics: White Lace, Let the Games Begin, My Best Friends Dad, and Ringing

Tongue Tied by @soldatbarnes ***

Oh this one was spicy. So it’s about Bucky being really stressed and busy at work, and his wife coming up with a plan to help him relax. That plan is very sexual, and provides a wonderful story to read lol. But I also like the tender aspect of their relationship that you see in little snippets, you can tell they really care about each other over everything else. And I think that’s really important to see in these CEO stories because usually he’s a jerk.

Let Me Help by @asirenscalling **

So this is a story about Bucky being stressed at work, and you deciding to help him relax. Obviously that answer is sexual lol, the best way don’t we all know. This was very smutty, not much to it other than smut, but it was really well written and very entertaining haha. Also, loved the little snarky back and forth at the end, it was cute!

An Unfortunate Convenience by @bucky-smiles

Ohhhhhhh buddy, now this is a killer one. So this one is about the reader goes out to celebrate a promotion, had a wonderful one night stand, and surprise? That guy was her boss. What could go wrong? This one was so awesome. Daisy is such a great writer, and this is a prime example. There were so many twists and turns and it was actually realistic you know? Like there wasn’t a perfect story, they messed up, he messed up, and it wasn’t all sunshine’s and rainbows. The reader stood up for herself and I really admire that! 

I’m so in love with you by @supersoldierslover

The description is right! This is so damn fluffy I cant handle it! So it’s about the reader and Bucky spending quality time together after he’s been super busy at work. It’s so freaking cute, all of the flashbacks, the way you can see that they truly genuinely care about eachother. Like, it’s one of my favorite things to see a relationship consisting of two people who love eachother. Nothin Better than reading about love. And Bucky, god Bucky is the sweetest in this! And let me say, I will also love Bucky Barnes forever. 

***Added later to the rec list

Home for the Holidays by @buckybarnesbeans

Stereotypical by @avasparks

Dangerous Dalliance by @justreadingfics

Business and pleasure by @snowyseba

City love by @chrevastan

A meeting in buckys office by @tetralea

Jr Executive by @buckybarnesappreciationsociety

Let Me Love You by @thewritersoldier

The arrangement by @buckbarnesjames

Executive Floor by @ackeviddlestan

Weekend at Buckys @marvel-media

Okay! Thank you guys soooo much for reading this. i’m sorry its late, but I had fun doing it :) I hope you guys like it! I have a couple more to read so check back for those being added 💖

[onceuponaloonatic]

surrogate au: im sure teachers cant be the teacher to their kids, especially in schools.. what if sana has to call minayeon and ask if theyre willing to pull saki out of her class bc otherwise she has to be the one changing classes. let's start the drama *evil laughs

When Sana realized who Saki was, she knew she had a problem. Not just because of who Saki was or who her parents were. She knew she had a conflict of interest. There wasn’t technically any rule limiting teachers from teaching their own children, but it was still frowned upon and Sana knew she would make sure Nico was never put in her class. Though in most ways Saki was not her own child. But in a different way, she was Sana’s biological child and there was a good chance she would have a conflict of interest. She could convince herself that she wouldn’t give Saki favoritism. She just knew herself well enough to know she couldn’t be completely unbiased as hard as she tried. And she thought that wouldn’t be fair to the other kids. 

So she faced a dilemma. It wasn’t like she could go up to her boss and just tell him Saki was her biological child she hasn’t seen since she gave her up for adoption. Even if he did approve it they still had to call Mina and Nayeon and explain the situation to them, which meant Sana would have to talk to them through the administrators, which could be a pain. If she had to talk to Mina and Nayeon, she would rather not have the administrators involved, at least in their first conversation in six years. Sana had been too nervous to talk to them over the phone, instead sending them an email. She had received a message from Nayeon back, but she knew it was from her secretary. She handled most of Nayeon’s emails for her, and Sana knew how Nayeon typed. Her secretary had confirmed a time, the whole process feeling very impersonal. The meeting had been arranged for the next day after school, giving Sana some time to think about what she was going to say to Mina and Nayeon. She thought about it a lot, no matter how much she tried to busy herself with her newborn daughter her brain kept drifting back to Mina and Nayeon. Sana didn’t sleep much, she spent the whole night holding Nico’s tiny hand while she slept. She cared for Nico when her little one needed her, but when she was asleep Sana just went through different scenarios in her head. She thought about what to say, how she would say it. She wondered if she should try to stay strictly professional, or if she should talk to them. She didn’t know. Plus she still hadn’t fully processed the fact Saki was back in her life. 

She liked the name Saki. It was adorable. It meant blossom, and Sana had always thought highly of the name. She wondered what Saki’s sisters' names were. She had heard her mention her sisters, and she remembered overhearing the other teachers talking about how crazy it was they had quadruplets at their school and how rare they were. According to the other teachers, two of them were even in the same class, and the other was in a different class. Sana wondered who was the older, who was the youngest. Who was each of the nicknames she had given them when she was pregnant with them. She still remembers all of the little nicknames she had for each of them. Before Sana knew it, it was morning. Momo teased her for being an overbearing mother while Sana sipped her second cup of coffee before work. Momo took Nico to daycare while Sana went to work, and the whole drive to work Sana nerves built. She knew she still had a whole work day before she had to talk to Mina and Nayeon, but that didn’t make her any less nervous. She was incredibly nervous already.

Throughout the day, the nerves built. Sure a class of 20 six and seven year olds was more than distracting, but anytime Sana had a moment to think the nerves came back and hit her harder. Her hands were practically shaking as she waved all the kids bye for the day. While waiting for Mina and Nayeon, she tidied up her classroom a bit. She had to do that everyday, but today felt particularly important. Mina and Nayeon were just as time. Sana knew that was something Mina was always really serious about, and it was cute to her to think Mina still felt it was serious even with all the chaos of having four kids. 

It felt a bit weird for all of them to be in the same room again. Sana was sitting at her desk while Mina and Nayeon were both sitting at the two kids desks right in front of it. 

“Cute kid.” It was then that Sana noticed Nayeon was staring at the framed photo she had of Nico on her desk. Momo had a friend who was a photographer who had offered to photograph Nico for free as a practice to start working with kids, so Sana actually had quite a few good pictures of her littlest baby. 

“O-Oh thank you.” Sana felt the urge to turn the photo away so they couldn’t see it. She didn’t know why, but she suspected it was because she wasn’t sure if Mina and Nayeon knew about Nico or not. “U-um she’s mine.” “I know. Saki talks about it at home…” None of them had been able to make eye contact. Things just felt so awkward between them all. “So you got married?” “Um yeah…” Sana cursed herself for lying. “I don’t wear my ring while I’m working, it can get a bit hard with so many young kids running around.” Sana didn’t know why she was trying so hard to lie. 

“So who is it-”

“We came here to talk about Saki Nayeon.” Mina interrupted. “So let’s talk about Saki, yeah?” “You’re right. Sorry.” Nayeon took Mina’s hand. Sana bit her lip purposefully, she remembered how warm Mina’s hands were, and she cursed herself for missing it. “So, what is it?” “Well, this isn’t technically a school policy, but we generally try to avoid putting kids in classes where they are related to the teacher because well, there’s a conflict of interest and well we wouldn’t want any kind of favoritism here, so I was going to ask if you think there is a conflict of interest. You can easily request Saki to move teachers, I will sign off on it-”

“Why would she change teachers?” Nayeon leaned back in the too small chair. “She loves you.” “Okay, I’ll be a bit more direct. Do you really want me to be this close to her? I thought I wasn’t supposed to see any of them.” Sana asked. “I mean- it’s not ideal.” Nayeon sighed. “But I meant it, she loves you. I always knew you would be a great teacher someday.” “What my wife is trying to say is that we don’t think our daughter would forgive us if we pulled her out of your class. You are her favorite teacher, and I think she would be really upset if we pulled her out without telling her why. The situation wasn’t something any of us ever saw happening, but it would be more harmful for her to get pulled out of her class.” Mina explained. “Just, don’t get too close.” “Don’t worry. She is just another one of my students.” Sana nodded. “We all have our own lives now, this is just a temporary thing. I will treat Saki the same as my other students, of whom I all treat the best I can.” Mina and Nayeon both nodded at that. 

When they left, Sana’s hands were shaking. She couldn’t believe she had just seen them both again. And that she had been able to stay so composed. What she didn’t know was that Mina and Nayeon felt the exact same.

[summonedfrommyhands]

ALRIGHT THE 3 MAKOTO AU'S I HAVE RIGHT NOW THAT IM CURRENTLY WORKING ON ignore that i said id reblog and explain i have like less than 10 followers whoops and im really excited about these aus okay and im on mobile RIP read more option

Fic one: it's an AU called New Neo World Program and what happens in it is that Makoto and his class and 77 and 79 and Komaru, Natsumi, Yuta, Ryota, and Yasuke are trapped within the digital world, and is forced into a killing game by AI Junko.

Outside of the NNWP, Jin Kirigiri is doing all he can to find the missing kids and keep the families and friends from finding out, as well as find who's responsible while having a constant live feed of the game hacked into his computer screen. The Warriors of Hope, the Student Council, and a few dr3 characters are involved in this side.

Extra tidbits of the AU: the NNWP is created by Chiaki and Chihiro, and they created Usami, Alter Ego, and Alter Chiaki to be in the world

The monokubs are involved

The protags of the games and Zero are main focus (while makoto is the main main focus because his role in this story is so big you cant take it out and have the same story trust me his fake out deaths here are legit freak out worthy)

Real Junko in this AU is Ryoko, so lore on AI Junko is simple and spoilers. Each character in this story is used and each have a good amount of screentime, and I am a huge multi shipper so even though I write ships in this au and also like, relationships in this au can totally be read into okay? There's a lot of that too lol

I'm afraid if I say more I'll spoil some real big reactionary moments so 👀 totally don't make me accidentally spill them 👀

Fic two: an AU that is currently called Makoto Harem Au because I have not thought of a good name for this yet. It's set in a non despair au at Hope's Peak and of course Makoto is the protag in this and the au's pov is solely his except when Plot Appears that he can't know about. Instead of it being a multi chapter story it's actually a collection of stories/oneshots that are self contained content even though they allude to each othet sometimes. This is a crack au with angst too whoops.

Extra tidbits: Since this AU is non despair, I had decided that Makoto can remember the canon timeline, has photographic memory, and suffers greatly for it

There are major differences in characters and their reactions to certain things due to this au being in a non despair world and this au is mainly crack, so despite the traumatic moments I may put in here it's meant to be something to laugh at too

There are relationships present but they're mainly background and it's a makoto harem they're not important though they are implied - not heavily, but enough to figure out if you think about it

Relationship dynamics everywhere with everyone

This AU is legitimately either crack or angst no inbetween

Fic three: An Au called Class Despairs where Junko despairs all three classes instead of just 77 and kills Chiaki, Makoto, and Shuichi to do it. Somehow, though, they survive yet they still find their friends despaired, so they are forced to do other things before they can try and save their classmates.

And what are those things, pray tell? Save the families and friends of the despairs (and their own too) before Junko makes them kill them, find a base of operations so when the world crumbles they have somewhere to hide out, and plan to survive in a practically apocalyptic world.

Extra tidbits: the au is actually called 3 Class Despairs vs 3 people of hope but Class Despairs sound better

The reason this au spawned is because my friend and I were like huh, in the other two classes, who would resemble Chiaki for them - and got Makoto and Shuichi respectively.

That au were also one shots where the three actually died and small bits of despairs living their life.

The group the 3 make is called Ultimate Hope not because they want to rival Ultimate Despair, but because they're a beacon for the people and the people started calling them that

None of the despairs know the 3 are alive, their location, or who's in UH respectively because of codenames and hidden faces

UH is allies with the Future Foundation, but since they have clashing ideologies, it's a thin line and the FF has publically labeled them enemies so what can they do oops.

Yes Towa City does play a part

The killing game that gets broadcasted in place of class 78 is the student council.

Makoto is leader leader of the group, as he is the most outspoken and the one the people and others recognize the most.

This fic is set into arcs, so it's... a really, really long story...

And uh, that's about it I suppose! I do hope you all liked reading this as I tried to keep the most important parts in while leaving the big big spoilers out among other things. Though if you do decide to risk me spoiling I will gladly and impulsively give out details whoops ahah...

Anyways, sorry to those having to scroll all of this, I really did try to keep it short!!

[mothmansrevolt]

LU Girl Scout AU (and subsequent PTA AU)

LU au where they have to pretend to be girl scouts because Time has to prove a point to the pta board and to the Karen Squad Its basically a bunch of highschoolers and singular college student pretending to be girl scouts because of both friendship and Time just shoved some sashes in their hands and said Y'all are all now girlscouts and offered to get them Chipotle as payment.

Twilight is in college(online). Warriors in a senior. Legend and Sky are juniors. Hyrule and Wild are sophmores. Four and wind are freshmen. Four is homeschooled by his grandfather though.   All are in a specila branch called hylia scouts (creative i know). This means they get set uniforms and competitions with other troops over cookie selling boundaries since hylia scout troops are usually very close to eachother. There are two troops in their area including them. Troop 4296 (the Links) and 6669 (the Karen Squad) They are troop 4296 because Time wouldnt let them have either 420 or 6969

Time--a pta mom--rivals with the Karens--tired as all hell but will not hesitate to prank the karens--troop leader and/or chaperone depending on the situation--He has a million bumper stickers supporting his "girls"--honestly he's just here for the cookies--someone get this man a coffee--has two sons according to the law, but has eight in spirit--you mess with his children he will not hesitate to murder you--all his sons are arsonists and he doesn't understand why--will call the links his "daughters". half the town can't tell what children he actually has--loves coupons and discounts "Malon said I'm not allowed to start fights at the pta meetings but I will not hesitate drag her here if you insult my beautiful brats again." Twilight­--Time's eldest son--only in this because he doesn't want his friends to get hurt and he loves his parents--a good boy--loves animals and will not hesitate to educate you on them--he wears overalls and if forced will wear a skirt over the overalls--he cant sell cookies for shit because nobody believes that he is a girlscout--sometimes has to duck down behind Four if certain people are around because they'll get suspicious--it does not work--He pretends to be everyone's big brother and they love him for it--perpetually confused by Wolfie "I have command over an army of teenagers and goats, nothing can stop me but gas money and my gpa." Wild--Time's second son--can pass as a girl pretty well--he destroys stuff during craft time--hot glues patches to sash--He has every one of the cooking patches and than some--Often seen with the camera photographing everything--Will help create new badges--give this boy a scavenger hunt and he will find you just about anything--has a tendency to ride on wild animals--isn't legally allowed to drive a car nor own a license. nobody knows why--second most convincing for this whole thing "This is just a glorified gang and honestly I am living for it." Four--from the neighboring farm but Twilight and Malon babysits him sometimes. he is a staple--the karens keeps trying to steal him because he is 'innocent' and 'a little lady'--this leads to ridiculous hijinks--he is small, quiet, not very mentally sound but he tries his best and is brave as all hell--owns the most badges--will rock the skirt always--fashionista or fashion disaster, there is no in-between--he's the most committed besides legend and warriors but is the most convincing--best cookie seller--Often seen handling sharp tools and knives for some reason, who gave this child a weapon?!--tends to befriend bad people--the only one with the fire safety badge even though, he to, is an arsonist--wears a vest because the sash is too big, Malon made it for him--has a bird named Ezlo who sits on his head "Sorry Miss Karen but I've been bribed with my first born child so kindly fuck off." Legend--salty and sassy--will always rock the skirt--also a fashionista and knows accessories--he's really only in this because of a running bet with warriors--he has a soft on the inside sometimes--he will get into cat fights--The other girlscouts from a rival troop HATE him because they will always lose arguments against him--knows the most about girl scouts, won't say how--Often seen blinged out with the jewelry he wins at the local chuck-se-cheese with his buddy Ravio "I have command over an entire troop of shortstacks and will not hesitate to order a strike against your fucking kneecaps. Do NOT question the authority of this skirt." Warriors--pretty boy--in a bet with Legend--also a fashionista--he is a big brother tho-- protection squad and trying his best--he is on student counsel and is a good leader--stand in when Time is busy--Often seen with a sports bag in one hand and a girl scout sash in the other--all the troops think he is a major lesbian because he keeps flirting with the other scouts--he gets more numbers as a girlscout, not that he could ever admit this "I'm a known lesbian among the girl scouts and honestly that is my crowning achievement." Sky--is here because his friends are here--He is the mom friend--second best at selling cookie because of his sweetness--He often tag teams with Four for selling cookies--is slightly confused but he's here to make sure nobody gets hurt--honestly just naps during meeting-- Often seen with blanket and a comforting hug--rival troops actually have scouts seeking out to befriend him--always forgets his skirt and is often seen borrowing his girlfriend Zelda's "Guys, please stop fighting you are all beautiful young women. Karen, you shut the frick up." Hyrule--the camper and nature boy of the group--he loves and has earned every patch for exploration and camping--tends to get lost--needs navigation patch--its been revoked from him twice--Humble and nice--often sleeps over at other peoples houses--nobody knows where he lives--it confuses the shit out of them--He is buddies with Four because Four knows the backwoods and roads the best--Often not seen due to being lost "Legend duck taped a gps to me arm and I think its lost to :(" Wind--baby boy--not as innocent as the others think--he absolutely loves being a girlscout--will play pranks on the other troops during jamborees and campouts--lives by the sea, slightly far away form everyone else--He helps with the nautical patches--hangs with the resident young delinquents, Tetra's gang. she thinks this is hilarious--he owns the troop wagon that they all use--its named King of the Red Lions or just Dave depending on the hour--only here because Twilight babysits him and his sister--also wears a vest because he thinks its cooler--Often seen with a telescope and covered in sand--someone give this child a bath "My first love may be the sea, but my second is that damned burrito, hand me the fucking skirt!" Wolfie--troop mascot--a giant half wolf half god knows what--has his own vest and patches-- has a tendency to just show up--Nobody knows where he comes from nor where he goes--he is the town cryptid and it isn't uncommon to see him pulling the troop wagon with the boys in it--Four still rides on his back--it counts as the horse back riding patch--Twilight is perpetually confused by him and its become a running gag that Wolfie is his fursona--loves cookies, sadly the cookies do not love him--can vaguely say curse words "arf" Shadow and Dark(I'm not sorry)--in karen's troop 6669 (for fun? for rivalry? who knows. they don't)--brothers--edgy bastards who are in a band together--Shadow is best friends with Four, Dark thinks he's pretty rad--Often seen with Four and the other edgy teens--both sassy, both easily pissed but trying to be kind of nice--Shadow is the only one who has achieved this--no those are not their real names, its Link and Link like everyone else in this goddamned town--HI MY nAME IS ebONY DArknESS DEMENTIA RAveN WAY--Dark is the author of My Immortal--both suck at selling cookies--tag team with Four to try and help their sales--rivals of troop 4296, they despise each other--both wear vests because Shadow wanted to match Four and Dark decided he can trick out the vest "Our mother may be a bitch and a dumbass, but at least we aren't petty white boys." "Wait Dark we are petty white boys" "FUCK" Karen Ganondorf Smith, Kaaren Link Johnson, Carhaen Reese--bitches and pta moms--runs the pta--the karen squad--Reese's daughter named Betghyani who is very nice and likes troop 4296--Johnson is mother of Shadow and Dark--they are fucking nuts y'all--they represent the three evils of the pta: the enforcer, the healthy diet extreme, and the bitch against disabled children (quiet hands!!!)--despite popular belief, Four (Link Smith) is in no way related to Karen Smith (legally at least. Karen thinks they are and it doesn't end pretty sometimes)--they all hate Time with a burning passion because he is not afraid to call them out on their bullshit "I've brought up so many stances and rules into this pta and will not have some farming hooligan upstaging the careful work me and the other heads have created!" Malon--couldn't be on pta because she almost murdered a karen with kindness--sweet and kind but can still kick ass--helped make and fix uniforms--acts as chaperone when needed and finds this all completely hilarious--she makes snacks with Wild for the meetings--has adopted all of these children--actively enforces Wind and Four to eat more because whY ARE ALL YALL SO TINY--can lift a cow "Don't talk to me or my husband or my son or my son or my eight fake sons or my lovely eight fake daughters ever again."

[mimymomo]

Orphydice Weathering With You AU Part 2

I’m just gonna get straight to it!

...

Eurydice’s standing outside the backdoor of the bar. The alleyway is barely lit under the cloudy sky. She’s holding a bag filled with cheap snacks, deli sandwiches, and chips she bought at the store.

And she’s nervous af

What was she doing here? She was in an alleyway behind a bar where she’s supposed to be meeting a boy she barely knows (a cute boy sure) who can also control the weather?!

“Hello, Eurydice!” The girl jumps as she notices the backdoor she’s been staring at is wide open and being held by the boy plaguing her brain. “H-hey, Orpheus.”

The boy leads her inside and up the stairs to the house section of the mixed-use building. He and Mr. Hermes live above the bar. Once they reach his room, Eurydice holds out the bag she’s been gripping, “I bought these. Sorry I didn’t know what you like so-” “No, no this perfect! Thank you Eurydice,” he smiled causing the girl to unwillingly blush. Wth was wrong with her today??

Orpheus pulls her into the kitchen/living room hybrid and starts prepping their lunch while Eurydice looks around. There are pictures on shelves and on the walls of Orpheus in varying ages. Baby, a toddler with baby food painted across his mouth, cheeks, chubby fingers and even forehead? A picture of him standing outside of a classroom holding a sign that said “first day of kindergarten,” school photos, photos of him playing a guitar, writing, at the bar, nearly every picture is of him smiling. She even sees photos of a familiar man she can’t put a name on and...Persephone and Hades? She has to ask Orpheus about that.

Then she sees something. Eurydice reaches out to grab a frame that’s been knocked over and hidden, facing photo down. Carefully flipping it over, it’s an old photograph, the corners bent and worn with some discoloration from the years. It a picture of a woman holding a months old child. She’s smiling but eleven from the photo Eurydice can tell it’s not genuine. The baby is staring at someone, not looking directly at the camera. It must be Orpheus but who was the woman? 

“That’s my mother.” Eurydice whips around to see Orpheus, smiling slightly but there’s a trace of sadness behind his expression. “My dad left before I was born and that sent my mom into a downward spiral. She never wanted a kid, especially not one who was...“difficult to raise,” he emphasized with air quotes. “So she left me with Mr. Hermes when I was about 5 months. That’s the last pic we have of her and me together.”

Eurydice didn’t know what to say, she knew that Orpheus didn’t live with his mother but that was... “I’m sorry Orpheus.” Orpheus shakes his head, “no it’s fine. I think it worked out for the better. I love Mr. Hermes and my family and life here.” He said all that with a smile, no sadness to be found. “Do you have any family Eurydice?” Caught off-guard by the question, Eurydice ponders what to say. “No, no I don’t.”

The two eat and Eurydice pitches the idea she originally came to discuss: starting a partnership with Orpheus. “You want me to start changing the weather for money?” Orpheus is extremely hesitant at first because it doesn’t seem right to charge money for it but Eurydice convinces him (it will help him raise money for Hermes/expenses, spread joy for others she will handle the business part and all he has to do his the singing/weather changing). The two come to an agreement and even upload an ad on Craigslist for their services.

As they’re finishing up Mr. Hermes comes up and asks them what they’re doing. Eurydice finally figures out where she recognized the man from- she met him at Seph’s shop. “You’re Mr. Hermes?” she screams, less at Hermes and more at her own stupidity for not putting two and two together.

Suddenly a notification for their Craigslist ad pops up: someone hired them to clear the weather for an upcoming farmers market. Said farmers market is tomorrow.

“We already got an offer?! Eurydice I don’t think I can do this!” “Orpheus, you’ll be fine! I’ll be there with you tomorrow.” “It’s tomorrow?? Please let there be clear weather tomorrow...” “What would be the point of us showing up if the weather is already clear?!”

The next day, Orpheus is a mess. Eurydice brings him gloves with hand warmers in them, an umbrella she scribbled music notes in sharpie on and a thermos of hot tea. Orpheus appreciates the gesture (sure he cant use the close with he plays, nor hold the umbrella but the gesture is sweet all the same)

When they get to the market and set up, the rain is pouring furiously. Orpheus is shaking, partially from the cold, but mostly from nerves. He’s under an awning away from the crowd and mostly our if the rain but Eurydice still covers him with the umbrella as a precaution. His fingers are shaking as he starts playing, constantly stopping to tune the ancient guitar.

The runner of the market is not amused (it was one of his workers who hired these children). He tries to tell Eurydice and Orpheus to go home but Eurydice convinces him to wait. Orpheus begins his song, “la, la la la, la la la~ la, la la la, la la la~”

As he performs, the rain slowly comes to a stop, the clouds parting to reveal a beautiful crystal blue sky. The golden sun coming out to say hello. Murmurs from all around can be heard, fingers pointing to the sky, people shocked by the return of the sun.

The man is shocked and ends up paying the kids double than what they charged for proving him wrong. “You got a gift kid, voice ain’t half bad either.”

For the next month, the two get job, after job, after job. The run around the whole city and sometimes even further out, clearing the sky, for birthday parties, weddings, competitions, even for a daycares field trip to the park. Orpheus is never a stickler for payments (he did the daycare job for $20 (the teacher forced him to take it) and a bunch of stickers and snacks).

Orpheus and Eurydice get closer and closer through their job and all the travels they do (they both have crushes on each other but they’re teens. They stupid with love). Seph teases her for how much she hangs out with Orpheus (“I’m losing my apprentice to my cute nephew!”) while Hades gets more annoyed than anything (he misses her and all the stuff she does around the house. She makes hades and Seph ultimately get along better).

One of their biggest jobs is to clear the sky for a 4th of July firework show. Since they are hired by the event coordinators, the two have to dress up. Eurydice shows up in her black dress, Seph had got it tailored to fix any holes, tarnished hems, and other rips. While Eurydice talks with a few event workers, Orpheus shows up.

He looks absolutely adorable. Still, in his suspenders, he replaced his cream shirt and signature bandana for a white button-up with a red bow tie. His pant legs are rolled up to reveal red socks and fancy shoes.

Orpheus performs and the sky clears. The firework show goes off without a hitch. The event planners let Eurydice and Orpheus have a private area to watch the show as a thank you.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen fireworks in person before,” Eurydice says. “Yeah, Mr. Hermes and Aunt Seph used to take me to watch these fireworks how’s for my birthday when I was younger. Haven’t been able to in years since Hermes has gotten sicker and Aunt Seph and Hades haven’t been getting along as well...”

Eurydice grabs his hand, “Orpheus when is your birthday?” “Oh,” Orpheus pauses for a second, “next week? 4 days to be exact.” “Oh my birthday is before yours,” Eurydice says.

“Wait, how old are you?” Orpheus asks. “I’m...1...8...” Eurydice says slowly. ‘You liar!’

“You don’t look 18,” Orpheus unintentionally counters. “You saying I’m lying?” Eurydice smirks. ‘You are!’ “No! I just meant you look young.”

“How old will you be next week Orpheus?” “Oh, um...17.”

‘Shit he’s actually older than me!’ Eurydice thinks to herself. Then sit there the rest do the night watching the fireworks but in all honesty, more time was spent between the two staring at each other secretly then actually watching the colorful display in the sky.

Over the next few days, Eurydice tries to figure out what to give Orpheus as a present. She tried asking Persephone and Hades but...they were absolutely no help. Then she tries Hermes. While Orpheus is busy, she slyly tries to question Hermes on what Orpheus would want for his birthday.

“So girl, how many secret jobs do you two have left?” Hermes asked while wiping some glasses. “Just one more next week, the day before Orpheus’ birthday actually.” “Really now?” “Yeah, since the job offers have been getting kinda overwhelming we decided to take one more offer then go on a break.”

Hermes nods and goes back to work. Perfect opportunity! “Speaking of Orpheus’ birthday-”

“You love him, don’t you girl?”

Eurydice then proceeds to freak the eff out. “What?? No! No, no! I mean, he is very cute and a talented musician and I love to hear him perform or laugh...or when he turns pink after cracking a joke. But I just wanted to think of a birthday present NOT BECAUSE I LIKE HIM OR ANYTHING! Just for a friend! Yeah, a friend...what the hell is wrong with me?”

Hermes smiles at the girl, “Eurydice.” The girl shuts up immediately. “I’ve been watching over that boy since he could talk. And I can tell you he would love whatever you’d give him. Even if you decided to give him nothing but a hug or a few sweet words. He would treasure it all. But I can tell that this goes deeper than you just wanting to surprise a friend with a present.”

Eurydice’s quiet, she knows he’s right but she wasn’t planning on be confronted on it today. “I... I like him...?” She raises the end like a question. Making sure that it’s okay.

Hermes nods, “aight, I give you my blessing.” Eurydice’s chest lightens. “Now about that gift idea...”

...

“Stop running!”

“Shit!” the man runs for his life. He hadn’t done anything wrong but with police, it never was innocent until proven guilty. It was guilty until proven innocent.

He ran down the slick streets, nearly falling as he turned the corner down a backstreet.

Suddenly he was corned by three detectives from the downtown police department. “Wait officers, I didn’t do nothing!” the man tries to reason with them.

“We know,” one says. “What?” the man asks. They hold out their badges: Detectives Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis.

“We tried to tell you that but you just went and started running,” detective Clotho said with an amused attitude.

“Are you the guy in this video?” detective Lachesis held out her ooh one displaying a shoddy video of surveillance footage of the night a month ago when a girl fired a shot that nearly blew his head off.

“Hell, that kid nearly shot me in the fucking face!”

“She’s apart of a missing child’s case,” detective Atropos states, not acknowledging what the witness just said. “Parents filed her as a runaway. She also may have possession of an illegal stolen firearm. A firearm that actually looks eerily similar to one that went missing from a previous unrelated case that wasn’t solved a few weeks before this incident.

“We need to find the girl. Have you seen her around?”

...

Seph is working at her Anthomania. The rain is drizzling once again and the streets are starting to flood. She’s arranging an order when an older woman steps through the door.

“Welcome in!”

“It’s really pouring out there ain’t it?” the woman asks. “Sure is,” Seph agrees. “Kinda frightening.”

“Frightening? Child ain’t nothing but a lil’ rain. The world was covered with water before humans were got involved. It’s all just a cycle. Reminds me of a story I dudes to hear as a child though.” Seph silently encourages her to continue. It’s a slow day, one old tale can’t harm her.

“There used to be ones that could control the weather. Children of the earth and sky, chosen to bring balance to nature. By their voices alone, they could end storms and disasters. Blessed beings they were. But they were also cursed with a heavy and heartbreaking burden. Those poor children.”

Seph back straightens, a chill running up her spine. Dread pooling in her stomach. “What kind of burden? What happened to those kids?”

The old woman gazes up at Persephone, “death.”

[the-quiet-winds]

Shake it till You See it

so this one was an idea i had that @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i wrote together and, to be quite honest, it is hands down one of my favorite ones we’ve ever done (not including the ward au because that is our damn CHILD but you understand (which btw the first part of the next installment should be up tomorrow))

this one is pretty soft overall, but there are some moments of self-deprecation. otherwise, we should be pretty good.

being on tour had given the queens the opportunity to travel all over europe, and the producers told them that in the future they were planning on taking the tour global. right now, the queens were in Spain, and aragon had delighted in the opportunity to show her fellow queens around. on this particular day, however, both jane and parr had decided to stay at home while the others went to a nearby beach; parr immediately retires to the tiny room she’d commandeered as an office in their rented accommodation, while jane decides to get some cleaning done. the other queens, as lovely as they were, did not seem to have ‘keeping tidy’ mastered in their list of skills. it was a tie between boleyn and katherine as to who was the messiest with their belongings, and so jane decides to tackle katherine’s room first. she starts by sorting the large pile of clean laundry sitting on the desk that katherine had never got around to putting away. she starts placing them in the correct drawers, but upon opening katherine’s sock drawer she’s faced with a notebook. the cover is plain pink and jane picks it up, frowning slightly. she was going to put it back, but then a photo falls out of the notebook and drifts to the floor.

jane picks it up and a wave of nostalgia washes over her.

the picture is of jane and parr from when they were in finland, touring helsinki. parr had taken the picture, jane remembers with a fond smile. the two of them had been sitting at a table outside a tiny cafe, eating finger sandwiches and drinking iced tea (a horrifying concept to jane, but it wasn’t absolutely horrible). the moment captured in the picture was when jane let out one of her trademarked ‘mum puns’, as they were called, causing katherine to uproariously laugh and jane to grin quite goofily at katherine’s reaction.

jane smiles down at the photograph for a moment or two. she opens the notebook, intending to just tuck the photograph in the pages, but the page it falls open on catches her eye.

there was a photograph of her and katherine, both fast asleep at an airport. katherine’s legs were tucked under her and her head was resting on jane’s shoulder. next to the photo were some sparkly silver star stickers, placed seemingly randomly across the page, and underneath were the words “Glasgow Airport, 23rd December” written in pink glitter pen. in smaller letter underneath it reads “me and jane talked about the brönte sisters - she loves them (note to self: read bronte sisters?)”

a rush of affection runs through jane’s system at the note. she’s suddenly struck with a memory of seeing katherine toting around one or two brönte books not too long after.

the opposing page is all written in fine green ink:

“it’s christmas! jane loved the CDs, she says she’s going to listen to them all the time. she got me this gorgeous jewelry box from stockholm and i think she wants me to put a picture in the lid. i just don’t know which one to choose!”

a soft smile grows on jane’s lips; she remembers vividly katherine running into her room a week and a half after christmas to proudly display the box, complete with a photo of the two of them at their London press night. both of them had been shocked at the positive response and had giddy smiles on their faces, wearing the gorgeous dresses they’d bought specifically for that occasion. from what she’d written, it seemed as if katherine had agonised over the choice for that full amount of time and the thought was sweetly endearing to jane.

she doesn’t even realise she’s turning the page until it’s already happened, eyes already skimming the next passage.

“18th January - we arrived in norway yesterday and the first show was a blast! lots of positive reception.

last night i had a stupid nightmare. the usual. i don’t really know how, but when i woke up, jane was there. she did that thing with my hair that calms me down.”

there are some water droplets on the page, presumably tears to jane.

“i don’t know what i did without her, to be honest.”

jane stares down at the page, heart aching for katherine. “oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, even though there’s nobody around to hear her. she looks over at the opposite page, where katherine had stuck a ticket to Oslo Aquarium at the top.

“19th January - we went to the aquarium! just me and jane. i think she wanted to make me feel better after last night. when we were in the cafe jane went to pay for everything and a woman asked me where ‘my mum’ got her coat from!!” the word ‘mum’ was underlined three times and jane stares at it, trying to work out if it was meant to be positive or negative.

jane knows she shouldn’t keep reading. these were katherine’s private thoughts, obviously not meant to be read by anyone else.

but jane’s curiosity was killing her.

she flips the page.

“katherine’s 2am thought #46” is written across the top. “jane really really REALLY loves when her mum puns”

this brings a smile out of jane and she gives a small laugh. the journal continues on like this, memories and tickets and photographs littered throughout. one page features a small sketch of a person; it was difficult to tell who it was supposed to be due to the fact it was unfinished and had a scribble through it, with “WHY CANT I DRAW” written in biro underneath. jane frowns. she personally thought the drawing was quite good. the next page was even worse, however.

katherine had just written the word “stupid” over and over again, in shaky handwriting and with tear stains littering the page.

jane’s heart twists and her jaw falls open in a small gasp. it seems so logical, jane realizes, that katherine would have some (...a lot, really) of self-esteem issues. jane hates knowing that she’s suffered in such a way and somewhere, deep down, promises that, if she can help it, katherine will never feel so low about herself again.

little does she expect, when she turns the page, to read a similar sentiment echoed in katherine’s words.

“25th January - we went on a walk this morning. there was a woman with a little boy, she was helping him learn to ride a bike. jane tries to hide it but i know it got to her, seeing that. i wanna try and make her feel better. i don’t know how, but i’m gonna try. she deserves to be happy.”

tears well in jane’s eyes and the little statement. she then very clearly remembers what must have been that evening when katherine came into jane’s room, blanket around her shoulders and ‘wuthering heights’ clenched in her hand, shyly asking if they could read together. it was a tender moment, one which ended in katherine asleep practically in jane’s lap at that point. it had, in fact, made jane incredibly happy to share something she loves with someone she loves

jane is flipping through a few more pages when suddenly there’s a clatter of the front door being thrown open and a gaggle of overexcited voices float down the corridor. jane hurriedly goes to shove the journal back into the drawer, but a charm on her bracelet catches on a page and as she yanks her arm away the page rips.

she doesn’t even realize the page ripped and simply closes the drawer and hurried back to where she was folding the laundry.

katherine walks in a moment later, hair slicked back from the water, a ‘six!’ tank top and gym shorts over her bathing suit.

“oh, hey jane,” she says surprised, but not displeased at having this particular guest in her room. “whatcha up to?”

katherine’s eyes fall on the single discarded page and picks it up. her eyes widen. it’s the page from her journal where she had simply written ‘stupid’ over and over. she looks at jane with wide eyes. “what were you doing?” she asks fearfully.

jane freezes, eyes widening as she spots the page in katherine’s hand. “I-” she starts. “I was just doing some tidying, love.”

“how did this end up on the floor?” katherine asks, voice with a thin veneer of calm over the clear panic. jane doesn’t answer for a moment. she doesn’t want to tell the truth, doesn’t want to admit that she violated katherine’s privacy by reading her personal thoughts, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out how the paper ended up outside of the journal, and jane knows that katherine already knows the answer to her question.

jane deflates, shoulders sagging. “i’m sorry, love,” she says quietly, not meeting katherine’s shocked and probably hurried face. “i didn’t mean to, i just opened the drawer and saw the book. then something fell out so i went to pick it up and i was stuck. please forgive me, kat.” jane looks down, ashamed, waiting for katherine’s response.“nobody was meant to see that,” katherine says quietly. she doesn’t know how to react; she mostly just feels embarrassment. her cheeks flush as she thinks of jane reading the parts where katherine is thrilled to be mistaken for jane’s daughter, or the stupid childish stickers she’d put on some pages, or her self-pitying rambles. she’d be surprised if jane could see her as anything except a stupid little girl after reading that, and she looks down to avoid eye contact.

jane notices katherine’s cheeks and ears burn bright red. katherine isn’t mad, she’s embarrassed. about what, though? what was she not meant to see?

she suddenly remembers seeing ‘mum’ underlined three times on the aquarium page.

“i’d be honored if someone thought you were my daughter,” she says quietly and suddenly.

katherine looks up, eyes wide and almost disbelieving. “r-really?” she asks, voice practically reaching a squeak. jane nods, not reaching out to her but just subtly opening her arms, in case katherine wanted a hug. just as she predicted, katherine lets out a tiny, slightly embarrassed noise of happiness and darts into her arms. her hair and clothes are still damp from the water but jane doesn’t mind.

“i still shouldn’t have looked at your journal, though, kat,” jane says as she hugs katherine. “and for that i really am sorry, I promise you it won’t happen again.”

“it’s okay,” katherine squeaks. a thought strikes her and she pulls away. jane panics, hoping that katherine didn’t have a sudden change of heart. katherine digs the book out and flips wildly on it, looking for a certain page. she blushes heavily as she shyly hands the book to jane.

“this is like the only good drawing in here,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

the sketch is in dark pencil, a drawing of her and jane together on the couch. katherine looks to be curled up, head on jane’s lap, the other woman’s hands gently resting in her hair.

“kat, this is brilliant,” jane says softly, eyes transfixed on the drawing. katherine fidgets slightly.

“you really think so?”

“i do,” jane smiles. katherine looks uncertain for a moment.

“would you like it?” she blushes again. “the drawing, i mean. you can have it, if you want.” she shrugs, as if nonchalant, but her cheeks pink and ruin the effect.

“i’d love it, sweetheart.”

jane, remembering what else she’d seen in the journal, sets it down and katherine’s heart sinks. it only gets worse when jane takes her hands and tugs her to the bed, where they sit down next to each other. jane turns to face kat before speaking.

“about what else i saw in there,” she starts and katherine cringes, knowing exactly what she saw and what was about to come.

she didn’t expect jane’s hands to leave hers and gently come to cup her cheeks, tenderly bringing her face up so they were eye to eye.

“kat, love,” jane says, “i know that you have a lot of...,” she searches for the right words, “self-esteem issues, perhaps.” katherine flinches slightly, so jane strokes a thumb lightly on her cheek. “i just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything, and i’ll never judge or think anything less of you.”

katherine looks down, and then back up at jane, eyes wide and uncertain. jane does her best to pour all the love she has into her reassuring smile, and katherine sends her a weak one of her own.

“thank you,” she says quietly. jane tucks a strand of hair behind katherine’s ear.

“it’s no trouble, love. i’m here for you, always.”

katherine’s eyes well with tears again, and jane hopes they’re tears of relief.

sure enough katherine’s resolve crumbles as she falls into jane’s arms, mumbling words of thanks and love into the crook of jane’s neck.

jane gently strokes her hair. “always, love. always.”

[angrylizardjacket]

when i said it i thought it was true [3] {Ben Hardy}

A/N: 2973 words. Fake Dating AU.

[part 1] [part 2]

Roger Taylor has barely spoken two words to you since the start of filming, and it’s caused you so much anxiety. Were you disappointing? Did you not look or act accurate enough? Sometimes you catch him watching you when you’re with Ben, the two of you in costume, and he just looks... pensive. 

Brian’s nice enough, soft spoken and always kind when he speaks to you, actually mentions that seeing you and Ben together makes him a bit nostalgic, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. 

The day you see the real Amanda, the woman you’re playing, you feel like you’re about to pass out. It’s as if you’ve got a direct look into your future, she could be your mother, though her hair’s just a little lighter than yours, hence the wigs they keep putting you in. She’s incredibly beautiful for her age, but that’s not the most striking thing about her. She cries the first time she sees Rami in costume, and she doesn’t speak to Roger. 

The moment she meets you, she has to take almost a full minute, hand covering her mouth as she looks you over. It’s like a test, and all you can do is stand there awkwardly in full costume, watching as she tears up a little.

“What do you think?” Brian asks with a proud smile, and she lets out an incredulous laugh. “It’s a little uncanny, isn’t it?” Nodding, she approaches you, smiling brightly and greeting you warmly. 

“Feels like I’ve gone back in time.” She’s surprisingly soft spoken, and she tugs at your collar, straightening it, before she rests her hands on your shoulders. “I’m flattered they’ve got you playing me, dear.” She tells you, and you think you might cry.

She only stays on set for about a week, the week you’re filming on the Garden Lodge set. The two of you are talking before filming starts for the day, you’re trying to glean any information you can that would help bring depth to your character, and Ben joins you. It’s the first time she’s seen him in full costume, and when he presses a kiss to your temple in greeting, her voice dies in her throat. Ben looks confused, concerned as she has to excuse herself.

It keeps happening, something about seeing the two of you in costume, together and sweet, it’s something she can’t stomach. She can talk to Ben normally, even when in costume, but the moment you arrive, and he smiles at you like he does, she feels her heart in her throat.

“I loved Roger, perhaps to my detriment.” She admits, taking a long sip of wine. She’d invited you out to dinner with her before she has to fly back to her family. “And I know what they’re saying in the movie, but he never really loved me.”

When you go to Ben with this information, he’s quiet, before he admits that Roger told him that when they were younger, their relationship was far from the sanitised version that was being presented in the film. 

They’d been together for years, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she loved him, and he took her for granted, always assumed she’d be there when he got back from trips and tours, he’d even proposed to her, and yet he’d do any pretty young girl while he was away because he knew he could get away with it. He’d cheated on her, and lied to her, and strung her along because it was easier than letting go. 

Roger Taylor can’t bring himself to speak to you; you’re the spitting image of his biggest fault. Perhaps the way they’ve got it in the movie is his attempt at an apology, not that she’d accept. 

Something about your relationship with Ben changes after that. It doesn’t feel like a performance, the way it used to, it feels more grounded. Neither of you are sure how to deal with the new information, but when the cast go out for dinner together, he’s got a hand on your knee under the table, and when you’re hanging out in his trailer between scenes, you let yourself fall asleep against him where you’re watching Netflix. The two of you go out with some of the others for the night, and he kisses you as you’re leaving the club together, his hands holding your face so softly, the kiss so surprisingly tender that you don’t even hear the click of the paparazzi’s camera from where they’re hiding around the corner of the building, and when you see the kiss on instagram the next day, you don’t think you care.

“Have you seen my nice, black blouse?” You called, elbow deep in a pile of clean washing on a Saturday morning.

“Which one?” Ben calls back from the shower, and you frown at the clothes before you; you really had meant to fold them sooner.

“The nice nice one, the one I wear for callbacks, you know the one I’m talking about.” And you move to rifle through the closet again, glaring at each piece of clothing as you flip past it.

“You sure it’s here?” The shower shuts off while you’re eyeing off a perfectly fine cream shirt that could serve as a decent replacement if you came to it. “Are you sure it’s not at your place?” He asks, stepping out of his adjoining bathroom wearing only a towel.

“No, I’m pretty sure I came back here after my last callback.” You mused, and you could hear him getting changed behind you as you tried to recall the last time you’d found yourself in the shirt in question.

“This would be easier if you just lived here.” He muses, letting the statement hang in the air. After a beat, you turn to look at him, brow creased as you considered his words. “If you want to, you can.” He offered, standing there in just a pair of jeans, his hair still damp. It might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Are you serious?” Voice quietly hopeful, your expression brightens as he nods, grinning. Blouse forgotten, you cross the room in a few paces, throwing your arms around him. “Really really?”

“‘course I am.” He doesn’t tell you he loves you, but it’s there in the tone, in the way he kisses you, and it’s there when he spends the next twenty minutes helping you look for your shirt, though when you admit you don’t need it for a few days, he suggests breaking in the bed to fill the time.

“It’s the same bed.” You laugh as he flops back on it, coaxing you over.

“Yeah, but it’s ours.”

The wrap party for Bohemian Rhapsody is... a lot. It’s a bit overwhelming; you’re by Ben’s side and everyone wants to talk to him, congratulate him, and they want to talk to you, tell you how beautiful you look. Everyone is everywhere at all times, and the only constant is Ben. 

His arm is around your waist when the two of you are standing by the bar, he’s chatting to someone who’s name you’ve forgotten, though you’re pretty sure he’s the second assistant director or something, and you’re trying to communicate to the bartender what you want over the music, leaning over the bar. The moment the bartender finally nods in recognition and scurries off to get your drink, Ben turns, sees your eyes shining bright in the light of bar, and he forgets what he’s saying, just for a moment. The guy he’s talking to leaves, pulled away by someone in the crowd, and you turn, smiling brightly, confusion creasing your brow when you see Ben watching you.

“What?” The bar is in a terrible location, far too close to the band they’ve got set up, but Ben can read your lips well enough in the bar’s fluorescent lights. He shrugs, doesn’t even attempt to answer as the band, not ten feet away, blast their way through a guitar solo. They’re mostly playing classic rock, a few Queen songs here and there of course, and they’re not bad, they’re just loud. 

With your drink in one hand, you take his without thinking, weaving through the crowd, his fingers linked with yours. When you find the door to the courtyard, which is significantly quieter, you feel like you can breathe again. The air outside is cool, and you drop Ben’s hand now that you’re not likely to lose him in the crowd, and the two of you find seats to the side by a tall table. 

“You don’t have to stay with me all night.” You tell him, resting your head on your arms, watching as he lights up a cigarette. It was a filthy habit, but damn if it didn’t make him look a hot. Hotter. 

“I know that, dude,” he pauses, taking a draft and looking, watching all the people talking and laughing and bopping along to the music, “I like your company.” He says it easily but it still has you grinning, and when he catches sight, he grins in return.

He doesn’t leave your side. Not for the rest of the night. 

Photographs are being take all night, and when you look back on them, you see you and Ben sitting side by side, his arm around you as you lean into him, laughing, and he grins at something off camera. You see the cast together for a group shot, all smiling brightly, most a little tipsy, and you’re holding Ben’s hand, your linked fingers just visible in a gap between Allen and Lucy. You see the two of you in the background of a shot of Rami looking absolutely ecstatic; you’re fixing Ben’s hair, and he’s giving you such a soft, endeared look that you hadn’t noticed at the time. If you crop it enough to make it your phone background, you don’t feel the need to call attention to it; for reasons you can’t quite articulate, it makes your heart warm.

It’s strange, and the thing that terrifies you is that it doesn’t feel like acting. It’s that grey area you keep finding yourself in, where it feels so familiar, and it’s like swimming upstream to remember that it’s all fake. 

The two of you don’t even share a kiss, not even when you’re both tipsy, not even when you lean in to murmur something in his ear, and his answer brings his lips inches from yours. You want to kiss him, to forget that it’s all fake, but he sees you hesitate, and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. Lips twisting in to a sad smile, you look out at the crowd of coworkers around you, dancing where the band had been replaced with a DJ, and you take another sip of your drink.

You’ve passed tipsy and dived straight into being drunk by the time you’re ready to head home, or well, back to your hotel room, but that required a taxi. Ben’s not much better off, and when you tug him into the back seat with you, he doesn’t argue. He’s the one who tells the driver the hotel they’ve got you all set up in, and you just lean against him, eyes fluttering closed, contentment filling you as he wraps his arm around you. 

“I don’t have any makeup wipes!” You gasp into the silence of the hotel elevator. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to head to his room, your arm tucked into his to keep you from swaying in place in the elevator. It might also be that Ben refused to let you be by yourself after you almost face planted getting out of the taxi.

“I’ve got some in case of emergencies.” He assured, fidgeting with his key card before the elevator comes to a stop.

“See, this is why I love you.” The words come so easily that neither of even catch at first as you make your way down the hall. Ben slows once your words have sunk in, and you both realise what you’d said. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry.” Voice quiet, there’s a sudden sinking sensation in your chest that dampens the whole night for you, but he doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and starts rummaging through his suitcase for the wipes once he’s inside. Once he tosses them to you, he follows it quickly with an oversized shirt to sleep in. 

There’s a solid five minute argument about who would sleep on the sofa, both of you trying to give the other one the bed. It takes you yanking a pillow from the bed, laying on the sofa and refusing to move for Ben to concede defeat. The sofa, however, is the single most uncomfortable piece of furniture you’ve ever had the misfortune of trying to sleep on. Sucking up your pride, you clutch the pillow to your chest as you make your way to the edge of the bed. He’s turned away from you, engrossed in his phone.

“Ben?” You ask, and he looks over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised in question. “The sofa is really uncomfy.” You pouted. With a grin, he shifted, making room for you.

“Holy shit.” Ben looks like he’s just seen a ghost. The two of you are in a nice restaurant in the city, it’s not five stars or anything like that, actually it happened to be your favourite little hole-in-the-wall restaurant with surprisingly good food and excellent service, and you were treating yourselves to a night out before Ben had to step outside to take a call. You didn’t begrudge him, that’s just how life was for the two of you. “Holy shit.” He repeated, and you looked up from your meal with raised eyebrows. 

“What’s up?” You ask, and to see the smile spreading slowly over his face has your heart warming. When he meets your eyes, he’s beaming.

“I think I’m going to be in X-Men.” He said quietly, and your fork fell from your hand, clattering against your plate.

“Holy shit.” You echoed, and he laughed a little, taking your hand when you offered it to him, squeezing gently. 

The stars seem to shine a little brighter as Ben beams up at them, your hand in his as the two of you walk home. Sure, there’s paperwork, nondisclosure agreements, rehearsals, and a few months until filming actually begins, but Ben’s landed a role in a high-budget action movie, and you’ve never been prouder. 

He spends the next few weeks in countless meetings, almost constantly in and out of phone calls with his manager and various producers, and when he’s not filming with Eastenders, he was usually training. He’s barely home, though neither of you are home a lot, you’re busy with your own projects, but when you see each other, he’s elated. You haven’t seen him this excited or motivated about a project before. 

Sometimes you miss him. Of course you miss him, you love him after all, he’s your boyfriend and your housemate, and you tell him all of this over dinner and he looks like he wants to say something, like he wants to freeze this moment in time forever, to bottle it up if he could.  You’re so proud, and you love him so much, and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to watch those two parts of you coming together over a microwave dinner.

In the weeks leading up to filming, things change, and you feel like you never see him anymore. It’s not like before, then you were just busy, now he’s all over the country, in meetings and fittings and workshops. He calls, but your bed is so empty and sometimes you just want to come home to him and he’s not there, and he won’t be home until the end of the week. Things are still good and bright when you see each other - he’s always eager to make up for lost time - and you never once doubt how much he cares about you, but you feel... out of sync. 

The two of you had fallen asleep not facing each other, but you wake with his arm draped across you, and it feels so familiar, so right, that it stings when you actually come to and realise where you are. 

It’s been years since you’d woken up next to him, and you’d forgotten how pretty he is in his sleep. Part of you thinks that’s a good thing, that if you start to remember now you might keep dwelling. Another part of you urges you to go back to sleep; pretend or not, you should savour this moment you’ve missed so dearly. That’s the part that wins.

You expect when you wake again, for him to already be up and moving, as far away from you as possible, but instead you hear a sleep-rough greeting in your ear, and feel his chest firm against your back, his arm still around you where you’ve tucked yourself against him.

It’s not pretend, it feels like history repeating itself, and so you let yourself forget it’s fake for the moment, lean into him just a little and give a sleepy greeting back. Your heart already aches knowing how lonely you’ll feel once either of you move.

“I forgot how nice you smell.” He murmured, and that’s when you feel your heart already beginning to break. Instead of letting yourself crumble, your link your fingers with his hand where it’s slung over your waist.

“I forgot how warm you are; you’re like a furnace.” And you hear him laugh at that as he leans into you too, and let yourself bask in the moment.

the rat pack: @hotspacedeacon @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @itssaje @d-r-e-a-m-catchme ​ @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine @i-padfootblack-things @deaconsroger @spookyfrances @holyurlbatman @your-idiotic-excellency

(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)

[newta]

The Finder Percy Jackson AU nobody asked for??

Hii, so i know its kinda weird to make a finders AU with percy jackson just because those two things are so different altogether. Percy jackson is an american book series for kids and teens while Viewfinder is anything but that. But i had a stupid idea so here i am.

While i was walking down the street i asked myself why litrally every character in vf is in love or somehow desires Akihito. (Because hes a beautiful, sunshine boy and honest human being and deserves just the best) but the first thing that came to my mind was that Akihito is the son of Aphrodite. Obviously? Duh!

I would change it into maybe japanese mythologie but i just have absolutly no knowlegde about that. Sorry!

So Akihito as a son of aphrodite makes sense. He is obviously beautiful and very desireable but without even trying. He is not flirting and trying to be handsome and dressing good. He is just being himself, wearing the things he finds cool and in which hes comfortable. But theres just something about him that attracks a lot of very different people to him. Its like he has something about him thats...inhumane. something magical. That the aphrodite part.

It also fits that Akihito has often different eye or haircolour in Senseis art. Even more than normal manga character. In the books Aphrodite can change her appearence to fit the desired appearence of whoever is looking at her. That can be another power akihito posesses and isnt aware of. So his hair can look brown, or hazel, or blond, or silver and his eyes can change colour just as easily to hazel, or brown, or blue. (I know its kinda official that now he has hazel hair and eyes but still)

How aphrodite meet his dad is also pretty logical. As a photographer u capture beauty: weddings, models, fashion, landscapes etc. And it would be pretty logical that Aphrodite turned herself into a human model, as the gods love to do, and through a photoshoot she feel in love with Akihitos dad and they produced Akihito.

I dont think Akihito would be very happy to be Aphrodites son to be honest. I think he would want to be a son of Hermes or Apollo. (Hermes would also fit so well!) He isnt interessted in fashion or make up or celebraties, he doesnt want to seduce someone, or judge people with his siblings. But thats okay. Children of Aphrodite dont have to be like that as seen by Piper who is a protagonist in the Books.

Akihito still has some powers. The apprearance change, the desirability (which is very problematic because people try to rape him...way to often), but i also think he has some kind of weaker charmspeak. An ability that commands people to do what he says. Because Asami lets him do pretty much everything he wants or that time that he got through to Feilong in Hongkong. But still. Its weak. Asami is obviously still in control over his mind and actions. And i dont think akihito is trained to use his abilities. He doesnt even realize when hes using them. And i also think akihito can feel the emotions surounding him.

His go to weapon would also be a dagger, like piper. Not a sword. It would be to heavy and with a dagger he has more freedom and is faster, more flexible, and can fight unconventional.

Now imagine Akihito feeling not powerful enough, not strong enough because he cant shoot arrows as good as the apollo children, or fight as violent and aggresive as the Ares kids, or being as smart as Athenas. But then. In a very important fight against a powerful monster or a titan and Asami is in danger he isnt feeling afraid or weak anymore because hes vibrating with fire and the desire to protect and suddenly he is leaping and fighting like a fury. So is Asami when he is in danger. When lightings bolts are killing thousands of monsters and the winds hold Asami as if he is a god himself. When he paints the battlefield, his sword and eyes red with his power. He realizes that love is a strong weapon. The strongest. A weapon even the gods fear.

So other character would feature

Asami as son of Jupiter

Kirishima as a son Minerva

Suoh as a son of Mars

Feilong as a son of Venus (feiLOVE do u get it?)

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Picture of Love | 10

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language, mentions of sex

Words: 5,340

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her.  She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

I pull out my phone as I search for pajamas to wear after my shower and I text Leyah asking where everyone was. 

"We're all in the boys' room watching them play video games"  was her reply. I nod to myself in understanding and head to the bathroom to change into my pajamas for the night, happy to hopefully to get most of tonight to myself as I hear a knock on the hotel door. I throw my pajamas back on top of the dresser for later to answer the door. I sigh as I look out the peep hole to discover it was Darren. I still hate that our relationship isn't what it used to be recently and we basically struggle to keep things cordial between us. I open the door to be greeted by his handsome smile and inviting eyes. 

"Hey." I blurt out, not knowing what else to say.

"Hey." So you're not gonna make this any easier, okay.

"What's up?" 

"Oh, nothing...Can I come in?"

"Oh! Yeah. Of course." I almost shout, realizing we were still talking awkwardly in the threshold of the hotel room. I stand aside to let him into the room and we move to the bed room area. As I sit on the bed, I get a text from Leyah that just reads "I'm sorry." which I can only assume she's referring to the fact that Darren suddenly showed up at our door shortly after I arrived back when he was originally playing video games next door. And Darren loves his video games. "You had to tell him I was back." I text back quickly.

I put my phone away and placed my attention on Darren. "So what are you up to?" He plops himself onto my bed. "Nothing, just watching some TV." He nods, very obviously trying to figure out what to say next.

"So, Mezzanine tomorrow?" He brings up our gig for tomorrow thankfully. "Oh, yeah! I'm super hype!" We finally settle into a smooth and comfortable flow of conversation. 

Just like old times.

I find myself smiling brightly at the thought that we were able to revert back to being comfortable in each other's company and cracking jokes like we used to...that is until Darren asks about my night. "So how was your night? You're back a little late." He notes. I sigh before answering.

 "Um, it was good. Went on a date." As if you don't already know. 

He nods. "So...did you go out with that Hope guy?" I sigh once more as I drop my head, already losing patience with this conversation. "Yes, Darren." He just nods again. 

"...You've been going out with him a lot..." 

"Yes, I have." I whisper shortly, my attention suddenly glued to the TV. Great an infomercial. 

"Don't hate me for asking this." He voices after a few long moments of silence pass. 

"What?" My head snaps in his direction, knowing what his question would be. 

"Is he... treating you right?" Feigning a pathetic attempt at a concerned face.

"Why, 'cuz you could treat me better?" I say raising my voice.

"I never said that." He rushes to defend himself, cocking his head to the left.

"No, no you didn't." But you were thinking it. 

"I was just making sure you're-" 

"I'm what? Hanging with the right people? That's not your responsibility or your concern-" 

"You're not my concern?" He questioned, getting offended.

"No, I am not." I sneered, my left hand turning to a fist and the right wrapping tightly around the TV remote.

"Char you're one of my closest friends, of course you're my concern-"

"Well I'm not your burden." Or your girlfriend. 

I'm met with silence and a floored yet somber look from Darren so I continue. "So don't worry about my dates with Jay." I march over to my dresser to busy myself with finding an outfit for tomorrow because I couldn't stand to be near him any longer. 

"...So they are actual dates then? Like he takes you out to fancy dinners and shit like that?" I pause and scoff at the indirect accusation and his equally as accusing tone. I know Darren enough by now to know the underlying subtext in everything he threw at me. 

"We haven't had sex yet, if that's what you're asking." I spit at him over my shoulder. He visibly deflates and his body untenses, confirming my suspicions. My eyes roll back into my head as I refocus on shoveling through my drawers. 

"Once again, that is not what I was trying to say. You can stop putting words in my mouth now." He grated sternly, trying to dig himself out of this never ending hole. 

I let my temper get my best of me and allow Darren to distract me from my task as I whip my body around to face him with a newfound animosity inside me, ready to be unleashed on him. "But it is. It is what you were asking and I don't appreciate it . And I'll stop feeding you words when you start saying what you mean." I snapped all while dangerously pointing my finger in his direction. All formality was gone from my voice because of the level of ridiculousness the situation has reached. I was over this conversation before it started and its about time I let Darren know that he doesn't have any sort of claim on me. 

He takes my statement in before shutting his eyes tightly and collecting his thoughts. "Look Char, I'm sorry, I just-"

"Are you? Sorry, I mean? You definitely don't seem like it. Honestly you seem like you got the answer you wanted and now you're trying to find an excuse for me to feel sorry for you. Admit it. You're relieved...You're elated to find out that no one's defiled my body in a month. 'Oh Char's not having sex with anyone? I still have time to make my move.'" I say in a deep voice, giving my impression of Darren as he sits politely waiting for my rant to be over. 

I make my way over to where he sits on the foot of the bed and loom over him, making fierce eye contact the whole way. "I have been and will continue to sleep with who ever I want and none of your 'concerns' are going to stop me." I hiss, making air quotations around concerns. I shut my eyes tight in frustration and move away from Darren as he reaches out to touch me. 

How fucking dare he?!

"No!...God, things were going so well! You just had to ruin it didn't you!?" I shout with abandon, wondering how we even got here.

Darren opens and closes his mouth, before actually deciding on what to say next. "Char, I...I know I've been a fucking dickhead lately and I cant seem to stop pissing you off, but you have to know that was never my intention and I do want things to go back to the way they were before."

No you don't. I roll my eyes so hard at this, I fear they'll get stuck. They didn't.

"And I'm sorry I fucked everything up-and not just recently, I know that-I just wanted to be sure that-you have to know I just wanted you be safe...and happy." In the middle of his speech, he makes his way over to me and I allow him to rest his hand on my arm as he shares his sentiment. I take a few deep breaths to calm down and eventually shrug his hand off of me, much to Darren's dismay. I feel the need to distance myself yet again so I drift back to the bed and Darren makes a wise decision to sit himself in the padded chair across from me.

"I just don't understand what you want from me." I start looking down at the carpet and fiddling with my already perfectly manicured nails. "I mean we flirt around each other for a year and a half and nothing comes of it, but suddenly when I finally find someone I might actually be interested in, you decide it's okay to be openly jealous...I'm sorry, but it literally does not work that way."

"I know that Char-"

"You have a funny way of showing it." I deride just above a whisper.

"I realize that, I realize that I've been an asshole-"

"Try douche-nozzle of the year." I interject once again.

"Yeah, that and sometimes, I just don't know how to act when-"

"Yeah, I fucking noticed!" I couldn't help, but laugh out loud at that one.

"Char!"

"What?!"

"Can you please let me speak? Please? I'm trying to apologize here and you are just-"

"Fine, go ahead...Sorry." I brush him off and immediately apologize when I see his annoyed face and realize I had in fact interrupted him while telling him to go on.

"I just...yes, I felt...some type of way when I saw the Hope guy come out of literally nowhere and basically sweep you off your feet."

"Why though? That is what escapes me. Sorry if I missed it, but it just went over my head, I guess." I shrug, my sentence dripping with sarcasm as well genuine intrigue.

Darren focuses on one spot on the floor as the gears almost visibly turn in his head on how to respond to my query. After two or so minutes, he takes a breath and sits up slightly as if to speak, when instead he lets out a hearty laugh. Any hint of curiousity or patience on my face had dropped and promptly been replaced with hostility.

"I suppose now I have to ask what it is that's so funny?" I cross my arms and wait for whatever silly excuse he has to offer. Why do I even entertain this?

"Nothing...Nothing is funny I promise. I...I knew what I wanted to say to you when I walked over here...I knew what I wanted to say when I showed up and knocked...but when I saw you it-it was like everything just left." He created a visual of his words with his hand in a wiping motion and laughed bitterly once more.

I feel my teeth grind together without my permission. "Then tell me what is it is you wanted to say initially. Before the ridiculousness ensued." I mutter ardently, hoping this conversation would end soon.

"You know what, nevermind." He gets up and makes his way to the door, but not before I jump in front of him to stab my finger into his chest.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" I look up at his looming frame with a ferocity in my eyes I haven't released in years. "You come in here with your accusations and your petty arguments, trying to incriminate me when you're the guilty one, Darren! And you know it! Nevermind? Are you fucking kidding me? You owe me that after this stunt you pulled today." I continue to dig my finger nail deeper into his chest with every poke. 

"You feign innocence and play the victim when you're the one instigating the trouble! You claim you're confused and J-Hope, is his fucking name by the way, you claim he's the problem and the reason why you're feeling this way when really it's you! It's your ego! It's the only child in you that always gets what he wants, it's the ladies man that's been rejected for once in his sorry life, it's you goddammit! How dare you come to my room and make me out to be the bad guy? It's literally not my fault you couldn't man up and stop being a pussy!" Through the inescapable, raw rage and tears that couldn't seem to stop falling down my face, I can just start to notice the absolutely crushed expression on Darren's face at my words. His jaw and fists were clenched, his eyes that harbored unshed tears looked everywhere, but at me. He looked pained.

I'd never seen him so utterly damaged. My hand instantly flies to cover my despicable mouth at the realization that I did that to him. My hand reaches out to grasp his arm and after a few fleeting seconds of contact, he shrugs it off and brushes past me to the door one more time. I all but chase after him and try grasp either of his arms.

"Darren, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I swear I didn't mean any of that-"

He lashes around to face me, his feral, but upset face startling me a bit. I gasp and recoil back, no longer looking to touch him. "Really Char...You didn't mean all that shit?" He demands, incredulously. I shake my head, helplessly. "No, no." I whimper pathetically as I feel more tears begin to blind my vision.

"Just some of it then?" He offers, scrutinizing me. I have no answer and the urge to break down and cry is entirely too strong for me to continue any type of conversation so I just look at my bare feet to avoid his fierce gaze. It's funny how the hot seat can be switched that quickly. A second ago I wanted to slap him and now I just want him to forgive me.

"I'm-I'm just gonna go then-"

"No! Please don't go like this." I take a step towards him, but keep my hands to myself. "I am sorry." I plead.

Darren spares me one last glance before he walks to the door. He hesitates to open it, giving me a sliver of hope, but he comes to his senses and exits quickly to avoid anything else that might slow him down or make him stay.

I stay in place for what seems like five minutes or at least until Vicky and Carrie come into the room. I immediately go to dry my tears and try to get rid of my sniffles because I can't stand the idea of someone seeing my cry over a guy. Especially if that guy is Darren.

"Char! What's wrong?" They cry as they go to comfort me. I practically duck out of their embraces and grab my clothes off of the dresser. "Nothing...where is Leyah?" I clear my groggy, cried out voice. "She's still next door, talking to Darren. He kicked us out." I laugh humorlessly. Of course my best girl friend is Darren's best friend as well and she will most-likely be in the middle of our fiasco. "What happened, Char?" Vicky approaches me, I ignore her question and race to the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower."

After letting everything out in the shower, I crawl into bed, fully intending to pass out on sight and just forget this whole ordeal ever happened. About thirty minutes after I get out of the shower, Leyah finally comes into the room and she just offers me a kind Leyah-grin before getting ready for bed. Yeah this is bad. 

When I attempt to think of something that might cheer me up other than Leyah. J-Hope immediately pops into my head. I grab my phone and text him about the performance in hopes that he might come see me. I fear the joy of performing might not even be enough to lift my spirits, so I'm enlisting the help of the sun incarnate, A.K.A. Jung Hoseok. He replies quickly saying he'll be there and just like that I have something to look forward to tomorrow.

The next day, I was the first to wake up, as usual, around four in the afternoon and got ready for the day. Not even the excitement of performing at the Mezzanine could put any pep in my step or erase this deep frown on my face. The girls hit the showers one after the other and proceed to do their own thing in the hotel room. Vicky and Carrie give me pitiful, curious looks, hoping I'll confide in them sometime today. Nope.

What concerns me most is that Leyah hasn't even acknowledged me yet, but I cannot tell if it's because she's being her normal self or if she took Darren's side last night and thinks I'm in the wrong and I can't take the suspense. Watching her decide what to wear today in front of her closet, I take the opportunity to approach her.

"Hey, Leyah. Can I talk to you?" I whisper, hoping the others in the next room can't hear me. She turns to me with a bored look on her face. "Is it about Darren, by any chance?" She droned. "Yes."

Leyah sighs loudly and a knowing smirk appears on her face. "You don't have to prove anything to me, Char. Darren may be my best friend, but so are you and to be honest, you were both dead wrong." I can't help, but chuckle at her incredibly true statement. She focuses back on her clothing as she continues. "He should never have even come over here last night and if I'm being honest, it's my fault he did-sorry about that by the way-"

"It's not your fault-"

"And I hear you said some... offensive things." Her eyes focused on nothing in particular, as if she was reliving Darren telling her what happened here. I look down guiltily. "... Yes." I mutter.

"... But nothing that wasn't true." She offers me a humorous side eye. I fight the urge to laugh again as I reply. "Even so, I shouldn't have said them. He looked really upset and... I don't know how to fix it."

"You're upset too... no?"

"Yes, I am... he seriously rubs me the wrong way sometimes, but I know I really fucked up."

Leyah suddenly gives me her full attention with one hand on her hip and one resting on her wardrobe. "I'm proud of you."

Her reply made my eyes pop out of my head and my brows stoop down low. "H-huh?"

"I'm proud of you." She repeats. "I thought you would have held a grudge 'cuz he hurt your feelings-"

"I refuse to admit he hurt my feelings." I immediately defend and Leyah just points at me and tilts her head, as if to say 'That! That right there.' I just roll my eyes in response.

"I'm glad to see you actually trying to make amends is what I'm saying."

"Thanks... I'm glad to see you showing emotion." I utter sheepishly to the ground.

"Hey, I can... emote." Leyah makes lazy jazz hands to enhance her argument and I huff out a laugh.

"Yeah, okay... thanks, Leyah. This is why I love you."

"Ew, your welcome." She cringes and continues to look for an outfit. I just laugh at her and make my exit. As I'm about to exit the room I hear Leyah mumble just under her breath "Love you too." and I feel a blinding smile split across my face. Caught ya.

I look back at the night stand clock and realize it's almost time to go and I'm made aware that I have a favor to ask of Leyah. I spin back into the room, startling Leyah.

"Oh, would you mind checking on the guys for me?" I try to show off my best set of puppy dog eyes. She basically deflates and give me a 'you can't hide forever' look, but agrees anyway.

"Thank you so much." I sang and went to leave the room again, but not before letting Leyah know what I heard. "Oh, and I heard that!" I toss over my shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She whines in the distance.

The girls and I join Darren and Kyle in the hotel garage to pack the van. When the job is done and the crew makes their way inside, I notice Darren stay behind to make sure everything was secure and I decide to strike.

"Hey, Darren. Can I talk to you real quick?"

Darren barely acknowledges me, clearly still pissed off from last night, and looks around the garage before making brief eye contact with me.

"I don't know if now is the time Char." He says quickly before heading to the driver's seat and I grab his arm before he can enter.

"Okay, after the gig then?... Please?" I squeeze his arm gently and turn on the puppy dog eyes again. He sighs and looks to his far right at nothing of importance. "Sure, Char." He uttered as if it hurt him to give in to me.

"Thank you." I whisper before we part ways and head to the venue.

The Mezzanine is thankfully already packed with bodies from wall to wall, almost more than the last time we were here and I hope it's because they're here to see us.

Aubrey, the club manager, welcomes us as we enter through the back entrance around 7:50 PM. "Hi! I'm so glad you guys could come and play for us, I've heard good things about you guys."

I thank Evan mentally for the promotion as I shake Aubrey's hand. "Thank you so much for letting us perform!" I say in my bubbly leader-voice.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the Mezzanine actually have stage hands to help the music acts set up. This place is more official than I originally assumed. That left me too much time to avoid Darren backstage, as if he wasn't already doing the same thing to me. 

As soon as the instruments are set up, the girls and I take the stage and give the Mezzanine the best performance they ever saw. "We are She-Bang! Goodnight!" I yell into the mic at the end of our set, receiving an even louder, enthusiastic reaction from the crowd. I guess they were here for us, that or we just gained a lot more fans.

After we dismantled the the equipment and the regular club music started pumping from the speakers, the group decided to stay and party for a little while, as usual. We all grab drinks from the bar and hit the crowded dance floor.

I can't help, but dwell on the fact that I didn't see Jay in the crowd tonight. Not that I could detect many faces, but his, I could usually pick out of the bunch. He is one of a kind. He didn't even bother to text me or call and tell me he couldn't make it and that's what actually pissed me off. But we aren't even together so I guess I can let up a little bit with the 'not calling' mess. J-Hope is a busy man, he probably got caught up in something.

I find my own place in the sweaty, gyrating throng of people and shake off the unnecessary thoughts, literally. As I look up from my tipsy stupor, I spot Darren from across the room. How we got so far apart is beyond me and I was thankful for it, until he began to make his way towards me and I started to panic. You asked for this, Char, it's now or never.

But as I mentally prepare myself for this conversation I see Darren's eyes narrow on something behind me. He stops in his tracks and his neutral expression turns to one of anger as I feel a pair of hands cover my face, gently from behind. I'm overtaken by fear just before a familiar cologne fills my nostrils and a beautifully deep voice fills my ears. "Guess who?". I turn around immediately in wonder, all thoughts of Darren gone from my mind. I am met with J-Hope's handsome, smiling face and his wandering hands on my hips. Not a second later we were each devouring each other in a messy, tangled kiss.

"I missed you." I breathed out heavily once we departed.

You just saw him yesterday.

Shut up.

"I missed you too." He laughed easily.

"I thought you weren't coming for a minute." I wrap my arms around his neck and we instinctively sway to the music.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I got caught up with something for work. I missed most of the set actually, but I made it! You guys sounded amazing... from what I heard." He finished timidly.

See? Overreacting as usual.

"It's okay, Jay. I am glad you made it. So now you can dance with me." I said flirtatiously, pressing my body closer to his.

"Of course." Was his response as he held me tighter and moved to the beat. Jay and I take after the crowd and grind our bodies together. I press my backside to his groin and roll my body on his and I can feel his reaction through his jeans, causing a smug smirk to grace my lips. All the while, Jay is tending to the weak spot below my jaw, causing my legs to slightly weak.

I make a conscious, but split decision to request that Jay and I take this party elsewhere. We've known each other for a few weeks now, it's obvious we're sexually attracted to each other and it helps that Jay is one of the most wonderful people I've ever met. And I haven't gotten laid since a week before we met. What's holding me back? 

The only reason I haven't pursued him this way before was because I wanted to take things slow since I actually might have feelings for him. Who am I kidding, I definitely have feelings for this kid. But I don't want to be his girlfriend, if that makes any sense. That word still stirs up anxiety in me. Jesus please take the wheel.

I open my eyes and intend to lean up and share my raunchy ideas with Jay, but I'm distracted by Darren's disappointed gaze from where he sat in the back of the club with Leyah nursing her drink and minding her own business directly next to him. 

We share a few more moments of silent, tense conversation until Leyah realizes what he's staring at and literally grips his chin in her hand and turns his attention towards her. After Leyah has a couple choice words with Darren, without responding, he decides to take a seat at the bar and mind his own business as well. I send Leyah a nod in thanks, then I hear J-Hope's smooth voice in my ear.

"Everything okay?" I quickly turn around to face him fully. "Everything is fine." I answer and place a sloppy kiss to his lips promptly as incentive for my next demand. Before I can open my mouth, J-Hope beats me to the punch.

"You wanna get outta here?" He asks as he strokes my cheek gently with his thumb. "I thought you'd never ask." My blissful reply causing a smile to spread across his face. "Just lemme tell the girls and we can go." He nods and follows me to the back of the club.

I approach Leyah, who seems to have been ditched by everyone already. "Hey, where is everyone?" Leyah puts down her drink and nods at Jay behind me. "Scattered around the club, they didn't leave, don't worry."

"Good. Well, Jay and I are gonna head out. Ya'll gonna be okay without me?"

"Yeah, sure." She shrugs, her hooded eyes and usually bored demeanor told me that she would be just fine without me, indeed.

I chuckle. "Is Darren okay?"

"He's... Darren. Didn't like what he saw too much, but... what are you gonna do?" Her eyes drift to Darren, sipping his drink morosely at the bar. She tried to shrug off the pity she felt for her best friend for my sake.

"Alright, well, I'll see you guys later." Leyah just waves in response and goes back to sipping her drink and browsing her phone.

J-Hope and I make our way through the crowd, to his car and once inside, he turns to me. "Have you eaten?" Oh.

"No, I haven't." I say, feeling out the situation.

"Oh, well, my friend told me about this neat restaurant on 9th. Would you wanna go? Or did you have anything in particular in mind?" He finishes with that hopeful smile. Yeah, your place.

Attempting to conceal my shock, due to Jay asking me to dinner instead of to fuck, I force my face into a kind smile. "Nope, anywhere's fine." It's okay, we can wait an hour to get some.

We travel for about five minutes to the place J-Hope mentioned. He finds parking, opens my door for me and leads me to the entrance with his hand rested on my lower back as usual. Above the entrance is a barely lit up logo of the restaurant's name; Taste Me. I tilt my head slightly in intrigue at the name, but shake it off. My attention is then brought to the view through the window of the establishment. It is hard to make anything out through the dark veil of the curtains, except that there is candle light and it is empty inside. I grow more and more suspicious of this place the closer we get, but I keep my thoughts to myself as Jay seems pretty excited about this place.

As we walk in, my suspicions, though I'm not sure what they are, are confirmed. The room was a small square shape with a door directly to the back and the walls were a rich, dark wood. Oak? Mahogany maybe? I'm not sure. The lighting in the room was pretty dark. There was only one small chandelier and a few candles on two brown, pub tables near the windows. In front of the door sat a young, blonde, woman dressed in all black on a bar stool who was scrolling through her phone. Okay.

It had great potential to be a quaint little restaurant... if only it had furniture... and food... and people.

Jay and I approach the woman who doesn't bother to look up from her phone in the slightest. "Excuse me." He tries to get her attention after a few moments of awkward silence. She looks up in a fright, as if she had no idea people had just walked into the building. "Yeah?" Is she says with a hint of annoyance in her voice. I know she didn't.

"We'd like a table for two please, if you don't mind." Jay demands, getting a little annoyed himself.

The girl's eyebrows sky rocket, so as to communicate that she has no idea what he's talking about. "What?" she mutters in shock.

"I said may we please have a table for two... please." He repeats, losing patience. I fight back a smile at the sight. The blonde also seems to be fighting back the giggles as she endeavors to come up with an answer to the question. "Uhhh... erm-I..." She continued to stammer.

Oh, for the love of God.

"Do you have any tables available, or not?" I snapped at her, just wanting to get this over with. I'm trying to laid here, lady.

"Um, sure." She finally forms a complete thought, though she is still fighting off laughter and it's pissing both me and Jay off. "You can just-just go through that door and someone should be there to help you out." She pointed to the door directly behind her.

"Thank you, I guess." Jay says and lets me drag him through the door. As I turn the knob and open it, I can hear the world's worst hostess let out a whimsical laugh from behind us and J-Hope let out an authentic gasp. We allow the door to close behind us as we stand there in complete awe.

Suddenly, I'm overcome with equal amounts of amusement and embarrassment as I burst out in a fit of laughter.

Taking in all of the different types of dildos, vibrators, plugs and costumes I realize J-Hope and I are standing in the middle of one of the biggest adult toy stores I have ever seen.

This is rich.