#i promise that's not my intention i just have stuff to yap about

[s0dabeach]

.

a weird thing about hearing that something like adhd is said to make you "struggle in school" is that usually when I hear "struggling in school" I just think of it as getting poor grades or struggling to understand what's being taught or even just struggling with memorizing what's being taught (since that's what a lot of standardized tests are based on)

I've never thought of myself as someone who "struggles in school" because I've always gotten good grades and done well on standardized tests and most of the time I understand the content rather than just trying to memorize without understanding

I also don't remember the last time I wasn't working on an assignment/task up to the last minute before it needed to be finished (not literally the last minute but like, still working on it on the last day or within the last hour before the deadline, just finishing writing my study notes on the day of an exam or the day before (which. i feel like writing them is in itself a form of studying for me but that's besides the point), etc). In most cases I've managed to continue getting good grades despite this but I know it does cause me a lot of unnecessary, avoidable stress. I tend to multitask, to read a few sentences of my textbook or jot a few ideas for an assignment before checking my phone again, or checking tumblr again, or getting a snack, or changing my music, etc. I take way longer to finish things than they should take because I never stay on task for a prolonged amount of time without distraction except when my brain determines I absolutely need to (i.e., needing to make sure I finish a chapter of a textbook because I have to write a quiz on it by the end of the night, as a recent real life example which, while worse than how I usually am, happens to a smaller extent pretty often)

I know this is less of a school-specific thing and rather just a general struggle with time management, but it does manifest the most often/obviously in school and I feel could be considered as a way one could "struggle in school". During the school year I quite literally always have homework or readings to catch up on at any given time, not because my professors are giving me such a ridiculous amount of work that I need to be working every moment I'm not eating sleeping or shitting, but because I do it so inefficiently that I can have been "busy with homework" all weekend and only gotten one item off the to-do list

[meteorella]

Nerdgasmic Rhapsody

pairings: loser!dom!ellie x popular!sub!reader

cw: flufff!! ellie's an absolute cutie pie. cursing (obv), oral! (r receiving), tribbing (maybe?), nipple play, after caree!!, pet names: sweetheart, baby, princess, that's all i think!

wc: 511

a/n: (intentional lowercase!!!) first ever ficcc omg🥹 i have never ever in my life written a fanfic before so pleaseee don't judge and also feel free to point out some mistakes and stuff!! I take criticisms as i'm sure it'll help me a lot throughout my writing journey :))) can't promise I'll post consistently considering I'm insanely dumped with school works but I'll definitely find time to do so. anyways i hope u guys enjoy this one!! Feel free to hit me w some ideaaasss :3

after you had made it official with the biggest dork on campus—ellie—people would randomly come up to you in the hallways and tease you, not believing how sweet she actually is. after all of your previous relationships, ellie is the only one who genuinely cared for you. despite her shy and nerdy demeanor, she's really fun to hang out with. she'd continuously yap about space, the comic books she's read—savage starlight—and drop all of its lore to you. the whole fucking lore. although you hardly cared. she was too adorable. most of the time, you would find yourself just looking at her sparkling green eyes, topped by her matte, black glasses, her hand gestures, and the soft smile plastered on her lips while she speaks. she's even more beautiful up close. how could others not see that? whilst ellie can be a total cutie pie, you cant deny how fucking insane she can be in bed.

when eating you out, she'd flick her tongue out relentlessly on your leaking hole. firmly gripping on to your thighs, she already knows your next motive. "nuh-uh, sweetheart. keep them open for me." she shoots you a knowing glare before diving back into your drenched core, keeping eye contact all the while. her gaze roamed over your appearance, hair disheveled, eyes rolled back, and completely fucked out. "s-sorry, baby–fuck." you moaned as you clutched onto her dino-printed sheets. so fucking cute. after you'd climaxed for the 3rd time, she'd climb on top of you and slip her tongue down your throat, allowing you to taste yourself as she grinded her own throbbing cunt against yours. your soaking wet pussies rubbing, and creating the most delicious rhythm together. she absolutely loved your boobs. she adored how it just bounces up and down as she rolled her hips above you. she took your nipple in between her thumb and her index finger and pinched them, making you flinch at the feeling. her glasses were all fogged up and crooked, but she couldn't care less. she was too engrossed on drawing out more of those angelic sounds that slips past your lips as she pleases you. "doing s–so good f'me, princess... fuck–so hot." when you had both finally reached your peak, she'd lean down and gently clean up all your juices from between your thighs with her tongue.

she gives absolutely the best aftercare imaginable. the routine would start with cleaning you up with a wet towel, swiping it's soft material across your face, your breasts, your legs, your inner thighs—she had always taken care of you in the most tender and loving way. she loved hearing your soft, exhausted sighs of relief, as you watch her with a smile on your face all while savoring the chocolate she so graciously offered you. after ellie finishes cleaning you up, she would settle beside you, enveloping you in her arms as she wrapped them around your waist. her lips showering your neck with gentle kisses as she whispered heartfelt words of affection. "i'm going to marry you one day."

YAAALLLL OMG I HOPE THIS DIDN'T SUCK TOO HARD😣😣😣🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 i hope u guys enjoyed this one, i really enjoyed writing thisss!!

tags: @ellstronaut

dividers: @khaer @plutism

[cozymochi]

Hi Mochi! First off, I just wanted to say I love your art and OC'S! They are beautiful and very cool! Cecil kind of radiates baby girl energy in my humble opinion.

But I had a question about Nyoka. It's mentioned in his notes that he covers the scales on his face and arms with makeup or an undershirt, and the only visible ones are on his neck. Was this just for design reasons, or is he like self Conscious of them?

I'm just curious about the answer! 😊 Anyway, have a great day!

thANK YOU FOR READING THE NOTES ACTUALLY AAAAA 😳😭

It’s nothing too deep. Good news, he’s not self conscious of them 👍 He just covers the ones on his face to blend into the background a little more. He is a reptile amongst mammals and just wants to be left alone. Design wise, he already has quite a bit going on already on his face (the glasses, the specific eye makeup etc.), it’s just simpler to work with. I don’t really like too much busy-ness, and I do want people drawn to his eyes first. (does it work who knows idk) Though if I were to keep yapping I’d end up doing a dissertation on the trials of translating and evoking a cartoon snake into this guy. [dies]

Otherwise without the makeup the scales on his face are comparable to Snake’s face in Black Butler. If I bothered refining Nyoka’s refs more, then that detail on the main post it would’ve been clearer. SO HERE IT IS:

Though, someone like Snake in general is a lot more simpler looking (positive) compared to Nyoka, so him having little details like that on his face already adds a little more flair to make him stand out. I think for Nyoka it’s fine to omit them given how much he already has going on and my priorities. (But they’re there 😳. I still think they’re cool looking.)

As for the undershirt, that’s just me pointing out that scales are there but just happen to be covered as a result.

It’s just a a design thing and a visual shorthand attempt on my end to register a more “diligent book-type” student amongst a dorm of primarily athletes. Also he looked kinda weird to me in the standard dorm uniform without it. Kind of in that same way Ruggie would look kinda weird if he wasn’t wearing the dorm uniform in the way he does that fits his character more. (For reference: the default Savanaclaw uniform is how Jack and other NPCs wear it. It just looked weird on him is all.)

But I suppose in-universe It could also be read as a means of Nyoka once again just trying to blend into the background. He just dresses like that willingly. 😩 He just doesn’t want attention. He’s not wearing heels in his dorm uniform, I didnt show it but trust me.

He has scales lining the sides of his entire body length, but unless I were to show off his base mannequin, no one would really be able to know lol 😂 Having them peek out around the neck was just a more subtle visual indicator of what he is and neat looking to me. Adds a lil’ bit of spice that was lost in the shuffle. That’s really it. Just pointing out that they’re there.

UHHHHHHUNNGH I LOVE answering stuff like this thank you 😭😭 Anything that involves me explaining design choices tends to make me act a fool since it’s pretty rare so I might overdo it a bit. Literally even the tiniest aspects have paragraphs worth of reasonings behind it so i uhhsgdhdghs i promise all this stuff is intentional. And im only scratching the surface tbh. 😭👍 but thank yooou���💖💖

[mxqdii]

heyyy, i was wondering if you could do a matt x reader where the reader has autism?? love ur writing !!

headcannons - m.s x autistic gf

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: headcannons

a/n: hii guys, so ive been getting a lottt of reqs for matt & chris x autistic reader, and ive obviously decided to do them, but please know that i am not autistic, so im very very sorry if i get some stuff wrong, i did do research prior but again everyone is different. it is not my intention to make anybody uncomfortable with these fics, only to answer reqs sent by my readers. my dms are open if anyone needs to talk!

warning(s): mental health mentions,

not proofread

whether you decide to tell matt about it or not, when he does find out, however that is - he wouldn’t look at you differently or treat you differently.

as ive said in all the other fics, he would definitely take the time to research all about autism to try and help understand a bit better, (he would never admit it though)

doesn't tell nick or chris, thinks if you want to tell them thats your decision and you should be able to do it how you want to

if you do wanna tell them but are nervous to, he would help you with it, however he can that is.

wouldn't make it an uncomfortable topic and if you make jokes about it, would laugh and not get all weird abt it (hopefully that makes sense)

when you have new hyperfixations, whether thats a movie, show, book, music, etc.. he'd read/watch/listen to it so you guys could talk about it together

watches you ramble and thinks its super cute, even if you end up yapping for hours, he doesnt mind.

would research your hyperfixation and just say random facts about it to impress you (you're impressed i promise)

unusual eating or sleeping habits, whether thats insomnia or having trouble eating, hes there by your side through it all ↓

rubs your back until you fall asleep

makes you food

takes you out to dinner

if you happen to be self destructive, he would calmly and gently grab your hands to stop you from whatever you're doing, whether thats hitting yourself, self harm, picking at your skin etc.

always trys to put a smile on your face because i promise you this man absolutely hates when youre sad

he will do literally anything to fix your sadness, because it breaks his heart seeing you like that

TAGLIST:

@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @gottamakemyhatersmad @luvsturniolo

[mochimouiemarty]

more God au stuff?!?

—

pride flag looking ahh

chat I MIGHT HAVE COOKED. yapping + alt versions under the cut

SO!!!! this is supposed to be his mortal(?) version! or what he'd look like outside of his temple/wherever the fuck this dude resides

I like to imagine Bernard's temple would be completely monochrome, and once he steps out of it he's just a living pride flag. there are two reasons for this!

– he doesnt want to overwhelm anyone with his overly bright and ever changing (heh) appearance. esp since he likes to be all tall and gigantic most of the time.

– he just likes being monochromatic

BUT, I also put too much thought into this so yall will have to hear about it too.

– when monochrome, their colorful strands of hair only change values

– I wanted their hair to resemble branches or something (maybe I got lost along the way but ill redraw them again promise 🫶 [ill forget, again]) to symbolize the different branches/paths change can cause.

– their hair CONSTANTLY changes. and it's not even based on emotion, it's just like that. this idea was born from the fact that change happens all the time

– some strands change to a darker color or almost gray sometimes, for yk, the darker changes and such

– assortment of colors for the whole God of Identity and stuff? I think self expression kinda goes hand in hand with identity, so!! also because of the different kinds of changes etc etc

– If this looks messy or muddy That was Actually My Intention TRUST. It was to symbolize how change can be messy and unpredictable 🫶/nsrs

– ^ BUT SRSLY THO, their hair just looks wild half of the time.

– Despite being the god of change, they like and even prefer set routines and predictable behavior. Just like to their og counterpart

– for what mortals usually ask for from them, maybe itd be for something to go well or for guidance on what sort of change they should make in their life or if theyre on the right path, help with self reflection etc etc.

– offerings would include: pretty branches, any food or drink, dances, song, etc etc!

– Fun fact people used to be so confused on what kind of offerings pleased them the most other than food and such. some claimed that their favorites change all the time, or that you should only ever offer one set item or whatever idk. they don't care obv, but they'd especially love things that the person took time to make or gather.

– although their hair is the main thing that changes a lot, subtle shifts in patches of skin, eyelashes, etc are included too.

ANYWAYS. thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. time to forget about this au and let it simmer until one of my friends bring it up again.

[fictionkinfessions]

hi, claudia from the hit netflix original cartoon the dragon prince here and i’m gonna Yap real quick

terry, i’m so sorry that i lead you on and i lied to you — i really didn’t mean to hurt you and i didn’t mean for any of the stuff that happened between us to happen, i never cared about my magic more than you and i never cared about aaravos more than you either. i love you sosososo much and you’re so special to me — no matter what happens, you’re always gonna have me in your corner

dad, i’m sorry i let you die, and i’m sorry that i became the person i did. i know you didn’t want that for me, but i really did have good intentions— and i just didn’t want to lose you after i’d already lost so much. if you’re out there, i miss you so much and i hope you know i still love you; you were a great dad even though you had your not-so-great moments (happens to the best of us icl, you’re still a good person i promise)

and soren—soren, i know i hurt you in more ways than one, and i don’t know if there’s a way for me to actually convey how sorry i am for all of the stuff i did. you’re an amazing person and an amazing brother, and i know i haven’t been nearly as good of a sister… i hurt you and i hurt the people you care about and i feel so shit for it now. this isn’t me begging for forgiveness cuz i know you may not be ready to, but i hope you at least know how sorry i am

you guys are my family and i really hope that eventually things can be okay again after. all the shit that’s happened

2

[on-wine-dark-seas]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game:

🎱 🍓 🌵 🕯️🛼 🥑🥤 💌 🌻 🐇 🧃 🎲 🍄 🧸 🪐 📚 🍬

🔪 🦷 ❄️ 🌿 🥐 🏜️ 🍦 🥝 🦋 🦴 🍅 🐚🪲 ☁️ 🐝 🌸 🎨 🧩

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I saw Sailor Moon, wished I could be part of the adventure and that certain things went differently, and started making little comics about it. Then...I learned how to write stories in school and tried it with Sailor Moon.

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Playlist for my JJK OC, Roxanne Abaza.

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

4. I hate editing but I know it's necessary. I edit ruthlessly because I want to be able to look at the finished product and enjoy it.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

👹⛩️🤬💴🧬

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

They're not a mutual because they don't have Tumblr. But my best friend said I get two free bodies.

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

@phyx-m is living in my head rent-free with her Beneath the Silk fic. One of the highlights of each week is seeing the notification in my email that she updated. I'll be kind of sad when the fic is over, but I can already tell I'm gonna revisit it over and over.

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?

On my main account? Too many. Everything else is crickets.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

Pretty much all the writers I recommend. I'd love to have more people to yap with.

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?

I tried to write one reader-insert and while it was nice, it's just not my thing. I am the OC x Canon CEO. OCs are my life's blood.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I was a twin. I absorbed my twin in the womb.

I am the only surviving child of my parents' marriage.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? 

Stress, mostly. I am dealing with a lot IRL so I have had to put a lot of my projects on the backburner while I put out all the little fires in my life. It's mostly just me picking at my projects when I can spare the spoons, these days.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Nadja and Sukuna met during a particularly bitter winter in the Heian Era. As they fell in love, winter became their favorite season. Sukuna finds Nadja to be so beautiful under moonlight and surrounded by snow.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

Interact with me. I have made a concerted effort to be more intentional with my socials, and authentic and consistent engagement is key. I get that folks are shy but I promise I don't bite. I talk confidently which may come off as "harsh" to some people, but I'm a dope person to know, trust me.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I'm optimistic about my job hunt. I'm inspired to write again after an 8 year hiatus. I'm in the healthiest relationship ever and I finally have a metamour who is also my friend instead of treating me like competition. Sheesh.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

Some JaveScript stuff.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Gojo gives bottom energy. He can be a service top but he mostly bottoms.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Sumerian language. Went down a rabbit hole just trying to find a reference to Lilith outside of the Christian context.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Always have a bag packed with essentials. You never know when you're gonna have to skidaddle.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I'm currently writing it.

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

When you need to be inspired: read or look at art or listen to music. Engage with other art in order to get your brain on the right track again. And sometimes the simplest answer is the best answer: REST. Your writing is no good to us if you're exhausted, stressed, and unmotivated.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

It's funny I always think I'll have a ready answer for questions like this and then I get a question and I draw a complete blank.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any kind, I'm so serious. I've had maybe two or three people comment on my work consistently since i started writing again but that's about it. It's...not the best feeling, if I'm being honest. But I'm trying to focus on the positives which is that I enjoy my own writing.

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

Naoya is hot he just needs to shut the fuck up. Naoya is smart he just needs to shut the fuck up. Naoya is strong and would have been a huge help to jumping Sukuna.

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told?

I don't think I lie a lot because I've become more mindful of my words as I age.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

How the fuck am I supposed to survive in a country trying to turn me into a rental slave.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

The books I read and the music I listen to mostly. Jujutsu Kaisen has me in chokehold currently.

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

My pacing could be better. Need to work on building and sustaining tension if I want to master the art of the slow burn. Need to be more diligent about sentence structure and little misspelling mishaps.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

Only if I'm getting gifts.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

“You betray your mandate!” He hissed in a rare display of emotion. “For that Abomination!”

I did not deign to respond, but rather, danced inside his guard, too close for his sword to be of much use, and withdrew a slender, stiletto dagger from a sidedraw sheath at the small of my back. It was this dagger that I planted in the opening of his armor, just beneath the shoulder joint. The Heavenly steel hisses as it made contact, and slid into divine flesh as smoothly as tenderized meat. I relished the shock on the Emissary’s face as he leapt away, blood spraying onto the snow between is, staining it as red as crushed winter cherries. No matter the outcome, anyone would be able to tell from the artistry of our footprints and the spray of the blood from our wounds, that a terrible battle was fought this day.

“I have betrayed nothing,” I said laconically, feeling more confident now that my steel had finally tasted his divine blood. “If your masters are so impatient for results perhaps they should have sent some hotheaded operative to whom every problem is a nail and his head a hammer!”

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

I wanted something short and I wanted it to match my [then] AO3 username.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@sugar-lollipop has been an absolute delight! They're always giving me encouraging and detailed/thoughtful comments on my fics, sending me asks, and just in general being super supportive. I appreciate them more than words can say. Thanks for sticking with me!

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

Socks and Harrow, my cats.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

My Dragon Age: Inquisition ship, Samson x Hadiza. This was a commissioned piece I got from @bigbuffpugpuff. My all-time favorite piece of them.

These [and the NSFW stuff] were gifts from @greendelle of my Inquisitor, Hadiza Trevelyan, and the love of her life, Samson, from my fic Post Tenebras Lux.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

When my favorite character is so mischaracterized they might as well be an OC. I hate that I had to do this recently because the fic is good but I didn't like how Sukuna was portrayed.

[zghostreviews]

The Arcane Review

I have not used this account in a long time but I feel like I need to yap a bit after Season 2.

Season 1, keeping it short and brief cause I don't have any real issues with it or anything. The animation and art style used in Arcane is beautiful and such, love that, very appealing to my eyes. The music used is......well it makes you remember this is based on LoL at least...I liked the intro song used and simply tolerated like 70 to 80% of the other music. I stayed firmly on the side of Zaunites throughout my S1 watch especially and barely cared for the Pilties except for maybe Mel but it was more of in a "why are you with a man who looks like he uses 7 in 1 body wash instead of your secretary who looks like she wants you" and the "your mom genuinely fucking sucks" sorta way. On the topic of Ambessa though, I CAN understand why people think she's hot but like I can't get over the whole warlord and genocider thing but anyways. I liked the first season, the pacing seemed great to me I thoroughly enjoyed it even though it has basically zero rewatchability for me.

Now Season 2, I actually have a lot to say about it since its fresher on my brain.

Dawg........Season 2 was kinda shit.....it makes sense why Fallout won over Arcane(even tho I think that it was a very missed opportunity NOT to have Maybe play when the bombs started dropping in Fallout the show) this time at the game awards(aside from S2 of Arcane JUST wrapping up close to the end of November) The pacing and writing felt off and everything felt incredibely rushed and I don't get it? They're making another Arcane series anyways so I dont get why they could have had three seasons instead of trying to mesh together two acts in one 8 episode season? Whoever made it standard that seasons for shows should be 13 episodes or less instead of at least 20, your mom's a hoe‼️

I'm gonna be real for a moment and say I was purely here for more Sevika content that was promised and they FUCKING LIED!! My wife don't even say a singular word in Act 3 aside from "GRAAHHH" LIKE WHAT. Like we still know basically absolutely nothing about her even though she was Silco's right hand and had to take care of Jinx and Isha.

And then the stuff with Cait??? Is just not really addressed???? Cause she went full on dictator and shit after her mom's funeral. That was all her own choice and I don't know why people keep saying "it's because of Ambessa" even though Ambessa literally hadn't even spoken to her yet during her initial crash out, the scuffed shit she was doing to Zaun citizens and pointing a gun at a literal child??? Cait made those decisions literally on her own dude.

Another thing bothering me that was just never addressed is how Ambessa literally had hired those Zaun people with the full intention of no one stopping them from assassinating Mel, HER DAUGHTER. Unless that was something her right hand staged without her knowing???? We don't know because that shit was never addressed afterwards and we can only assume that Mel learn that her mom or her mom's right hand was about to get her killed to make it seem like all of Zaun was evil either.

And the thing with Viktor was...something...he turned into Jesus and started going a bit crazy with power. My main thing with him is that...he is from Zaun, right? So wouldn't he know who Vander and/or Silco are in some way even if he only spent his childhood there?

And then there's the lesbian sex scene which I feel was just..........terribly placed.....? And the writing surrounding what leads up to it is weird too....? Throughout the entirety of Season 2, Cait....I literally like her less than I did in S1 cause she literally called Vi "one of the good ones" in S2 and that was fucking crazy. But Cait has had like zero sympathy of any kind for Jinx, even when Jinx was like super clearly wracked from trauma and grief from seeing, Isha, a child, a child that was in her care, die in front of her. Like I'm pretty sure Vi and Cait also witnessed that too....and the aftermath so you'd think she'd be at least a little bit sympathetic but no???? Unless I missed something????

Then afterwards when Vi arrives and does try to talk to Jinx about what happened, clearly it's still a fresh wound and she does NOT wanna talk about it due to how painful it is so she lashes out and locks Vi in the cell, and very clearly eludes that she's gonna go off and kill herself and no one is gonna stop her. And then sometime after that, Cait comes by and unlocks the cell and Vi is like "she really hasn't changed..." and its like huh?????? You JUST basically heard her say she'd gonna go off herself and THAT was your conclusion??? Even after the time you got to spend with her prior to the event inadvertently caused by Jayce??? Then Cait just kinda shit talks about Jinx to Vi and trying to reaffirm that "yeah girl! She hasnt changed and I told you so!" in between the comfort and then they start kissing and fucking in the jail cell Jinx had spent days starving herself and wallowing in her own grief and sorrows in.

I'm sorry but was that supposed to get my clit perking up????? Cause it didnt.

And then there's the Black Rose plot, which was just confusing and proves that Act 2 and 3 should've been their own seasons cause it just made everything even more messy and kind of hard to keep up with. Like...???? Question marks was all that was really cause it just provided more questions than there already were.

I thought the fish guy would be of importance cause of how many shots he was getting, the whole thing with Maddie, and that guy Vi was hanging out with that was giving Vander vibes, hell I even thought that one Jinxer would've been important in some way cause she got a few shots too. But nah, all of them just die with little to no fanfare except fish guy whose name was Stev or something, I dunno.

And then the montages were....also annoying to say the least? It seemed like more of an excuse to make a mini music video really.

Did I watch Season 2 all the way through? Yeah. At times it felt like a chore to actually get through it, but yeah.

But did I walk out of it perplexed? Also yes!

I rate season 2 like a 7.5/10

S1 gets like a 9/10

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Thank you aeron, I wish i wasn't like this in the first place but unfortunately here we are (not that i mean that against anyone else just myself) you definitely think im more amazing than i am, i just see it as like 'that thing i cant get rid of'

i tried to bring it up again but one of them apologised for being grouchy...lets see how long this lasts but the others don’t know and i upset one of them accidentally today in a gc so now i feel bad and like i cant bring anything up

one of my irls knew i read fanfics and i sent the tags of lady oswald (told you that was my fav fic) to a friend - who tbf already has an inkling but i keep brushing it off - they reverse image searched it and ended up reading more doctor who stuff than i did LOL i stick/stuck pretty much to my sweet sweet clara content whereas theyre in love with half the cast

hopefully they never see this ask! that will be v embarrassing

yeah im gonna call it gopiss girl 🫶

hope your food was nice!

nah my family are all outwardly homophobic (well, they pretend to be okay with it as long as its not in their family type of thing, they pride themselves on having a straight lineage and take bets on which family member will be the first one to come out as gay, and like, whisper about whos a secret gay its ridiculous) long story short it was definitely homophobically intented, but wtf does a gay person smell like, like if i have to define a gay smell i just start thinking of sweet, floral perfumes because thats the smell id be breathing in if i was cuddling with a girl (which part of me longs for but also part of me despises that i long for)

sorry again about the clara thing i feel bad for sending you so many clara requests and your writing is so good i just want more 😭 its my little escape for the world where i don’t have to be seen by anyone and no one can see me hence why i am a (hopefully) lovely anon instead

also on your page saw that gif thats like 'i am a f*cking star!* me i am star

oh cool! with the pronouns thing that sounds cool yeah i have no idea about gender ive had people explain it to me like 20 times i don’t think i will ever truly wrap my head around it but i try to be supportive

i know what a lavender marriage is id just be so concerned that everyone would think my husband is gay or that i would be so paranoid all the time that people would know, yknow - ugh its frustrating im just like, trying to figure out whether to sort of go down the get married traditionally and just be fruity secretly in my head, resign myself to being single forever or be in a lavender marriage but then again no one wants to be in one of those because they'll want to come out at some point and then it makes the girl look dumb or vice versa, and then if they're with someone romantically then you just feel like an idiot idk

sorry this is such a yap ive had a tough day

also thar description of demi kinda soudns like me i literally freak out anything to do with sex im like someones attractive but without clothes im just like 🏃‍♀️‍➡️ like i want it but im so terrified so idek

sending you love aeron and idk where sparkle went love you too

your fics are great aeron if you need validation there you go <3

- ⭐

I completely get what you mean, and I know this is such a tired and overused saying but your feelings ARE important and they DO matter, even if some people can't seem that 🫶

Okay but your friend being in love with half the cast of doctor who is so real because me too honestly 😭 and every time you mention a fic of mine that you love it always fills me with such joy even if you've already said it before 🥰

Gopiss girl 😭😭 I can't

It was!! It didn't last long though because I was hungry lmao

I also thought of floral scents for some reason when I thought of something "smelling gay" idk why either

It's not a problem at all, I promise! I don't mind writing a lot for clara because I also love her and I know it makes you happy which is the goal with my writing 🫶

That quote's always going to remind me of you from now on haha

I get it completely! I think it's okay to not understand something as long as you're supportive and respectful, which you are 🥰

It's completely okay to yap, and I get it. I just hope that someday you're able to get the happy ending you want without having to compromise or feel guilty because you definitely deserve that ❤️

See I didn't think I was demi either until I really looked into it and compared what it meant to what I feel and that's how I was like "Oh yeah I think that might be me" lmao

And you're so sweet star anon thank you so very much <3

[yoonjinkooked]

Chemistry | JHS (6 (pt 1))

Part 6 - Just Do It

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut

Warnings: blonde Hobi (yes, that’s a dang warning), heaps of dirty talk, public groping, lots of sex discussion, them being responsible adults and getting tested before doing it, cursing, drinking. It ends on a bit of a cliff hanger cause this is just an intro of the smut fest that the next chapter will be Also, IMPORTANT: the ‘Spring Cleaning’ party that I am describing is fictional (that I know of at least) and I BEG OF YOU, please don’t mix your drinks. Just don’t. It won’t end well. Don’t mix drinks, don’t drink and drive, don’t drink what a random person gives you and never ever ever leave sight of your glass. Please. Drink responsibly and stay the f away from it if you are underaged. That also means you need to stay the f away from this story, too 💜

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

A/N: Again, DRINK RESPONSIBLY! The smut fest part 2 is coming super fast (no pun intended). Unedited, so please forgive me, I needed to get this shit out to you and i just need more Hobi. these are drabbles after all lol

“I’m clean,” Hoseok informs you with the widest grin possible. “Got the results emailed this morning. 100% clean and ready.” 

 You don’t register his words at all - first of all, he had startled you, appearing directly in front of your path, probably seeing you from afar, making your way to the study hall where the first class of your day takes place. And on top of that, you are way too shocked with his appearance to even bother understanding the words he was telling you. 

 “You’re… you’re blonde,” you mumble as you stare at his hair, wondering if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Sunlight makes hair lighter, doesn’t it? It doesn’t make it almost platinum, though. Looking him over, you realize that nothing else has changed - still the same height, still the same weight, still his signature casual but colorful clothing - but the blonde is there and it’s magnetic - it’s impossible to look at anything else before your eyes are glued to his new hairstyle again. It suits him so damn well. If someone had told you he’d look this good blonde, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

 “Oh, yeah,” he waves his hand off, laughing, as if it’s a completely irrelevant thing. Honestly, to him it might be, but not to you. “More importantly, I am clean,” he repeats his earlier words and this time around, you do get to properly register them, as well as the meaning behind them. Clean. Safe to have sex. No worries in that department. You should be overjoyed but not only are you still hypnotized by his sudden change of looks, you’re also refusing to focus on that particular information. 

 It’s weird - you did stuff, discussed even more, agreed on everything. You blushing at him informing you that it’s finally safe for him to fuck you and finish inside you is weird. 

 “You’re blonde,” is all you can say, and it earns you an eye roll from Hoseok. 

 “Oh come on Y/N,” he whines. “If you’re going to be like this just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

 “Hey!” you snap, smacking him on the shoulder in retaliation, which only makes him laugh. “Have mercy on me here, give me a moment to get used to this new look of yours. If I showed up with a completely different hair color, would you be able to focus on anything else?” you demand, absolutely positive that he’d be equally as lost as you are. 

 “If you telling me that you’re clean and we can finally fuck, yeah, I wouldn’t be focusing on hair, even if it had all the colors of the rainbow in it,” he answers honestly. 

 “Okay, okay, we get it, we’re on the same page - you’re stupidly hot, clean and want to fuck,” you laugh at him, although you would be a fool to deny that it’s getting to you - the way he is so upfront about liking you and being attracted to you is impossible to ignore - it makes you feel a lot more confident than you have felt in a long while. 

 “Oh Y/N, you know me so well,” he acts as if he’s genuinely touched and it’s this reaction that makes you melt and laugh. No matter the hair color, no matter how casual he references his intention to get his dick inside you, it’s Hoseok. And that’s all that matters. “Seriously though, we both have our results so whenever you’re ready, if you’re still up for it…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the raise of his eyebrow says it all. 

 “I’m not missing out on that piece of ass if that’s what concerns you,” you joke, looking him up and down as you speak. It’ll never cease to amaze you how he can whisper the dirtiest things to you, or even say them casually out loud, but turn as red as a tomato when you do the same thing. “What are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” you ask. 

 “Aren’t you going to Namjoon’s?” he frowns in confusion. “Spring Cleaning party season?” he reminds you and starts laughing immediately, probably at your look of realization mixed in with disgust. “Is this about Namjoon or about the Spring Cleaning party season?” he laughs. 

 What you guys refer to as spring cleaning is exactly what it sounds like - all the leftover alcohol that somehow managed to survive the past year is gathered in one place in the ‘bring-your-own-booze’ manner. It’s usually a mixture of hideous drinks and half empty bottles and once it’s all gathered, you make it even worse, combining it into borderline poisonous mixtures. Everyone attending and everyone drinking does so on their own responsibility, fully aware of how the night might end. 

 A year ago, it was still fun. Now, you know you’re too old for that shit. 

 “It’s about both,” you answer Hobi’s question in a whine. “I don’t wanna deal with wasted frat boys who’ll spend half the night throwing up and Namjoon is insufferable.” 

 “Namjoon is one of your best friends,” Hobi laughs. 

 “I know - that’s why I’m well aware of how insufferable he is,” you grunt in annoyance. “I know it’s tradition and all but can we skip all of that? Coochie in exchange for avoiding a party we’re too old for anyways?” you suggest. 

 “Wait,” Hoseok’s eyes widen and you can imagine a lightbulb turning on above his head. “You think Namjoon’s insufferable?” 

 “Incredibly so, yes.” 

 “And you want to make his life a living hell in retaliation?” he continues asking. 

 “Absolutely,” you reply in a heartbeat, despite loving Namjoon like he was your family. You adore him but you cannot stand him at times and ever since this little thing with Hoseok had started, he had not stopped teasing you. It’s time for him to suffer. 

 “Hear me out,” Hoseok moves closer to you, as if he is about to share a conspiracy theory that no one except you is allowed to know about. “How about we go to the party and stay there a bit - laugh at the idiots, dance to bad music - just a regular Thursday. And then, when the shitshow starts, and it will start, we go upstairs and seal the deal?” 

 “You want us to fuck in Namjoon’s house?” you start laughing. 

 “Is there anything that would annoy and traumatize him more than knowing two of his closest friends fucked in his house?” he points out. 

 “Yeah, if he walks in,” you burst out laughing. “Honestly, sold. Fuck it.” 

 “I plan to,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you in the most sleazy manner possible - jokingly, of course. He knows he has you hooked and he can play around with it. And you’ll love it. 

 “Ugh, stop doing that,” you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder again. “Don't try too hard, you already have me, blondie.” 

 “I look that good, huh?” he laughs, hitting the bullseye. 

 You don’t answer that question - you offer him nothing more than a smile and a shrug before you slowly walk past him and make your way to a class you’re probably already late for. He knows you enough to realize that to you, yes, he does look that good. And you cannot wait to find out what other things he can do to you, hoping that the movie is as promising as the trailer was. 

  Standing across the room, Hoseok keeps his eyes glued to you, the same way he did from the moment you entered the house. You aren’t hiding from it either - you make direct eye contact with him, smiling in a knowing manner as you listen to whatever it is that Taehyung was yapping on about. You tried to listen - you really did, at first. But the problem is that Hoseok’s very presence demands your attention - it’s something you can’t control. If he’s around, if he’s in the room and if you have this feeling of the two of you alone knowing something, knowing this secret about what’s going to happen tonight - no one else stands a chance, not even your friends.

 “Are you seriously ogling Hoseok while I’m asking you for relationship advice?” Taehyung sounds exasperated and you feel guilty - even more so when you realize that the only reason he did manage to get your attention was because he had mentioned his name. 

 “Ugh, I’m so sorry Tae,” you don’t try to defend yourself, knowing you’re guilty as charged. “My mind is a mess, I’m a useless friend. I just… can’t focus on anything else,” you admit sheepishly, not really wanting to go into details. They know that something is happening and that’s it. You don’t want to share more, neither does Hoseok, nor do you think any of your friends is particularly thirsty for details. Except perhaps Jimin, but tough luck for him. 

 “Then go!” Tae urges you and for a moment, you think that he is angry at you - the urgency with which he said it makes you wonder if he’s pissed with you for not listening to him carefully - but when you look up at him, you see his signature smile. He’s not angry - he’s cheering you on. “Go and get your guy!” 

 You want to  sigh, roll your eyes and remind him that Hoseok is not your guy - but in a weird, fucked up way that only you and him understand, he kind of is. It’s you he’s looking at - not any other girl, and there are plenty. It’s you he’s had his eyes on ever since he first saw you - it’s you he’s waiting for. 

 So you go for it - the same way you did the night it all started. Without thinking twice about it, you approach him, walking through a crowd of people to get to him - his eyes follow you every step of the way, standing straighter as you finally get to him, mere inches separating the two of you. 

 It’s electric. The feeling between the two of you, it’s purely electric, making you wonder if he’d burn to the touch if you were to reach out. In your mind, he always was the epitome of the Sun, so it wouldn’t be no surprise. You notice his smile despite not breaking eye contact - he smiles at you with them too, the signature wrinkles appearing on the edges. 

 “Well, don’t you look lovely tonight,” he tells you, giving you a quick once over. “Black has always suited you.” 

 “Now’s the time when I say something quirky yet charming like, ‘it matches my soul’,” you joke, laughing along with him. “Thank you - I had to dress in my finest, seeing as it’s a special occasion after all.” 

 “Is it?” he laughs. “I thought it was just a Spring Cleaning party.” 

 “Hoseok…” you shoot him a warning glare. 

 “I’m just messing with you,” he laughs, pointing out the obvious. “Can I… kiss you?” 

 This question takes you by surprise - you have decided to be public with whatever the hell this thing is - simply to avoid confusion, especially since you’ve agreed that you won’t be sleeping with other people while this deal of yours is standing. It’s a nice surprise, though - the fact that he still wants to ask, the fact that he is making sure that you are comfortable with it - whether it’s with the kiss itself or it being in public. It warms your heart to know that even though you had never planned any of this with him, he ended up being the right choice. 

 “Hobi, honestly, we’re past the point where you need to ask,” you admit, wanting him to know that you’re not going to back out and that you do feel comfortable. 

 He says nothing, instead deciding to kiss you immediately. It’s slow and gentle, lazy and languid, in a way that shows no rush or urgency. It’s obvious that he is enjoying it, and so are you, every move of his tongue against yours, every breath of yours that mingles with his. To the two of you, the rest of the room no longer exists - the sounds toned out, the people long forgotten. It’s almost as if it’s you and you alone - and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You move your body closer to his, anchoring your hands around his neck as you press against his front - as you have found out, making out with Hoseok has plenty of merits, and one of the bigger ones is simply the feel of his body against yours. 

 His hands wander, slowly and likely aware of the audience around you - it’s highly unlikely that anyone spared you more than a glance, but despite what it feels like in your mind, you are definitely not alone. So when his fingers graze your ass, he doesn’t grab it firmly like you know he’d like to - he simply rests his hand there, with pressure that promises that there’s more in his mind than a simple touch. You know very well that if the two of you don’t slow down soon, he’ll pop a boner in the middle of Namjoon’s kitchen and even though you’re hardly keeping this a secret, that would likely be a bit too much for him to handle. 

 With your mind heading in that direction, you begrudgingly stop the kiss, but you don’t move too far away from him - your hands still around his neck and his hands still on your ass. For what seems like minutes, neither of you says a word, simply looking at each other, your eyes scanning the face of the other - the way his lips are wet and how he nervously licks at them, the way his cheeks also changed shades (and you know alcohol is not to blame for it) and the glint in his eye that likely mirrors yours, with both of you knowing what’s in the other one’s head. Tonight is the night, the night you will finally seal the deal. 

 And if all goes well, start something that will make you explore things and areas you dared not speak of, much less try them before. All of it, from the sweetest and most romantic to the nastiest, kinkiest shit imaginable - you want to do it all with him and it’ll start tonight. 

 “So...” You start, in what you hope is a sexy voice. “Are we going to go and piss Joon off by fucking in his house?” you ask, making sure that the sexy voice you’re trying to use is also low enough for no one else but him to hear. You take it a step further, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want to suck you off before I ride you until I can no longer hold myself up. Then, I want you to fuck into me with all that strength you have and fill me up, watch the cum drip out of me and then watch me finger it back inside my cunt.” 

 Pulling away just in time to see him swallow a lump, you move one of your hands from around his neck, down his chest and stomach, very slowly, before grazing it over his already noticeable growing dick - you don’t tease him more than that, knowing that even though you might not feel them, you likely do have eyes on you by now - you simple careers the area where his jeans are starting to stand out, a sign of his eagerness that completely mirrors the way your underwear is sticking to your core. Both of you are horny as all hell and if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll jump his bones right here, right now, on Joon’s kitchen sink. 

 “How ‘bout I use my fingers to push the cum back inside you and when it dribbles out again, I eat you out until you want to scream my name but you can’t, ‘cause you’re sucking on my fingers, licking every drip of cum left on them?” he suggests and you for a second, you think your knees are going to give out and you’ll fall flat. You don’t, likely because he still has his hands pressed to your backside. 

 “Oh, I’d want nothing more,” you shamelessly admit. 

 “Then we’re not doing it here,” he announces, laughing at the immediate sulky reaction it elicited from you. “Don’t be like that, it’s better if we go to my place,” he chuckles at you, gently squeezing your butt. “I want us to enjoy the night, go for as many rounds as our bodies can take and then do it again in the morning. We can’t have that here while some freshman is doing a keg stand and anyone can walk in on us at any second. We can piss Joon off later - but it’s the first time we’re gonna do it and damn it, I wanna do it right.” 

 “You wanna do it right?” your eyebrows rise. 

“I could stand here all night and list all the things that I want to do to you, and you to me, and still remember more on the way home - and we’ve already discussed a bunch. I want to treat you good and give you the best fuck of your life - I promised as much and I want to deliver. We can fuck in Joon’s house any other day, honestly.” 

 “Do you want to… use something tonight?” you ask, pressing your hand against his crotch a little bit harder this time. “I have some toys back at my place but we won’t be alone there.” 

 “Nah,” he shakes his head immediately. “I have my cock, mouth and fingers - I don’t need much else to make you want to never do anyone else. We’ll have plenty of time for all the toys - and when I say all, I mean all. I’d go for anything with you.” 

 “If you keep talking like that, I’m just going to cum right here, right now,” you admit. 

 “While that would be a sight for sore eyes, I have other plans. Let’s go,” he takes you by the hand and away you go, making your way through the crowd, not caring if anyone notices how quickly you’re leaving or how you’re walking hand in hand. 

 You simply don’t give a shit, at all. All you care about is Hoseok right now - his dick, mouth and fingers and all the things he plans to do with them. 

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (4)

Warnings:

Word Count: 2.6k

The next morning, Chan made sure to come to school early, since he wanted to talk to you. He found you leaning against your locker, and quickly made his way over to you.

"Hey~" 

You looked up, a wide smile growing on your face as you removed your earphones.

"Chan! You don't usually come to school this early..."

"Uh yeah, I know. I kinda wanted to talk to you without my friends breathing down my neck."

"Hm, makes sense."

Chan let out a sigh, leaning back against the lockers. "My friends are kind of possessive...I wanna spend more time with you, but then at the same time I don't want to ignore them and hurt their feelings."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oka-"

"Which is why I want to introduce you to them. We can hang out together..."

"Oh, um. Your friends..." You sighed uncomfortably, clutching your book harder. "...I don't think they like me very much..." 

That was an understatement. Minho's insults, Hyunjin's teasing remarks, Seungmin's glares whenever you answered a question right...it was clear that Chan's friends weren't fans of you.

"It's fine. They'll be fine once they meet you."

Chan came closer slowly, almost caging you against the locker as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling. "I like you a lot...so I'm sure they will, too." 

Leaning in a little closer, he mumbled in your ear. "And if they don't...well, they can suck it. All I know is, you're my girl now and I'm not letting you sit alone at lunch."

"W-wait..." you looked up, blushing. "I'm your...what?"

He chuckled, pulling away from you and winking as he walked away. 

"See you at lunch!" He called.

***

You stood there with your tray, nervously looking over at Chan's table. Just a few steps more...

Your heart was beating fast as you told yourself to suck it up. Inhaling deeply, you made your way to the table, trying to smile.

Chan looked up as he saw you approach, grinning as he raised his hand and waved. 

"Y/n! Come over here~" He patted the empty seat next to him.

You sat there, nervously avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table. A second later, you felt Chan wrap an arm around you, pulling you close.

Minho tilted his head in amusement at the gesture, exchanging glances with Seungmin.

"Guys, you know Y/n..." Chan introduced, looking around the table.

"Hm, how could we not? She's always yapping away in class." Seungmin said, leaning back in his chair. "Damn, the rest of us can't even get a word in." 

You knew this would happen. Why had you agreed to this?

"Look, I'm alright sitting at my old tab-"

"No." Chan turned to Seungmin, harshly glaring. "Shut up."

There was an awkward silence as Hyunjin rolled his eyes, going back to texting on his phone. 

"So...Y/n, why don't you tell us about yourself?" Felix asked slowly, trying to break the ice a little.

You pondered for a while, wondering what to say. "Um, well...I moved here with my mom. I like drawing..."

"Hmm, yeah. In that little book of yours, right?" Changbin mentioned.

"How- um, yeah...I mean-" You tripped over your words as Chan widened his eyes, shooting him a death glare. He was going to kill them.

"Um, do you have any hobbies?" Jeongin spoke up quickly, trying to divert your attention.

"This is kind of starting to feel like a job interview." You giggled, sitting up a little. "Well it's drawing and journalling, as I mentioned before. I also quite enjoy studying."

"Trust me. We know." Minho snapped, leaning back in his chair. "God, I'm bored. Who let this bitch sit here, anyway? Are you trying to turn us all into social pariahs, Chan?"

You couldn't sit there and just take it anymore. You stood up, chair screeching against the floor as you stormed across the cafeteria, leaving out the back door of the school. Leaning against the wall, you tried not to cry. 

They were just a few insults, right? It wasn't full on bullying, per se...but it still hurt. So much. 

Deep down, you were a little thankful. This had served as a wake-up call...you simply didn't belong in Chan's world.

***

Chan couldn't control his anger. As soon as you left, he groaned, glaring at Minho who was chuckling to himself.

"Honestly? I expected you to try and sabotage this, especially since it's your bet." He turned to Seungmin. "But you. I never expected it from you. You're supposed to be the mature one. Now how the fuck am I going to get her to trust me?" He snapped, running a hand through his hair.

"Maybe...maybe you should go check on her..." Felix suggested. 

"Yeah that's what I was going to do, anyway." Chan rolled his eyes, standing up and following you.

***

"Psst."

You looked up, wiping your teary eyes.

"Listen...don't take what they say to heart. It takes time for them to warm up to people."

"I don't- I just can't do this." You said softly. "I'm sorry."

"But...you can! I...I like you. Please don't leave me."

You frowned at the ground, not knowing what to say. "Look, Chan...I like you too. Maybe more than I should, but-"

"So stay! Please. If you like me, then it shouldn't matter what my friends think."

"I guess..."

"Please. I need you to come to that carnival with me. If you spend just a little more time with them, I promise they'll like you."

You sighed. You did want to go to the carnival...and you definitely didn't want to go alone. 

"Okay." You mumbled.

"Good girl." He said softly, tilting your chin up to face him. "I'll pick you up at 5. How's that sound?"

"Yeah, alright."

"We're gonna have so much fun, you and I."

***

You looked in the mirror, wondering if you looked good. You hadn't worn a dress in months, and were surprised that your old dress from 6th grade still fit you.

It was a cute dress, navy blue with tea-cup sleeves. Combined with your usual saddlebag, the outfit looked more put-together than anything you'd worn in years...you hoped Chan would like it.

Exiting your room, you went downstairs to try and find your mom, so you could ask her for some pocket money to use at the carnival. When you found her, she was passed out on the couch, a bottle of beer on her stomach, her hair sticking out in every direction. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. 

Honk honk.

You perked up when you heard Chan in his car, deciding to pull the blanket over your Mom further before leaving out the front door, carefully locking it.

As you walked towards the car, you felt your heart sink as you realized he wasn't alone. 

In the passenger seat was Minho, one of Chan's friends...probably the one who hated you the most out of all of them. You carefully ignored him as you smiled at Chan, who grinned right back.

"You look so pretty." He really did think so. It wasn't the dress, or the way you did your hair, though that was nice as well. It was the huge smile on your face, radiant with happiness as you got into the backseat, greeting him.

"Thank you! You look good too...like always."

Chan's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he took in the compliment.

"I'm so excited...I've never been to a carnival before." You said, smiling.

It was almost contagious, your enthusiasm. Chan chuckled as he started the car, Minho glancing over and frowning at the way he was smiling softly to himself. Huh...

"Well, I can guarantee you'll have fun. There's so much stuff to do." 

The rest of the ride, you chatted with Chan as Minho looked out the window, grumbling to himself as he ignored everything around him.

"Fucking finally, we're almost there." Minho noted, snapping. "If I have to spend one more fucking second in this car with her, I'll combust."

You inhaled, the anger building up in you. Just who did this guy think he is?

"I have a name, you know."

"Like I give a fuck." Minho chuckled, pushing the door open before Chan could even park the car properly. 

Chan watched as Minho left, walking towards Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin who were standing near the entrance.

Wait...there was a fourth person.

Chan gulped as he realized it was Miyoung. His Miyoung. His heart started beating impossibly faster as he looked away, turning to you.

"About Minho...I'm sorry. He can be a little cold..."

"A little?" You scoffed. "Right. Well, whatever. I don't care as much as I did before."

You opened the car door, getting out and dusting off your skirt as you tried to put a smile back on your face.

"Come on, I want to go get some cotton candy~"

Chan smiled, tucking his car keys in his pocket as he joined you. He watched as Minho reached the small group, going in for a hug with Miyoung. A wave of jealousy crashed through him, and he looked away, trying to focus on you.

"The last time I had cotton candy, I was like 5..."

He slowly decided to take your hand in his as you continued talking. When your brain finally registered the warmth of his hand holding yours, you looked up in slight shock, forgetting what you'd been talking about.

"Is this okay?" He asked, squeezing gently. You nodded after a second, cheeks burning as you looked down at your intertwined hands. 

***

Changbin watched as the two of you approached, his eyes noting your hands with a frown.

He nudged Jisung lightly. "Wow, Chan's really intent on making her think he likes her."

"Uh huh. The dude's got dedication, for sure." Jisung nodded, as his eyes travelled from the two of you to Minho who had noticed as well.

Frowning, Minho quickly took Miyoung's hand in his as well, not wanting to be one-upped. The girl blushed a little, staring ardently at the boy whose glare was aimed right at Chan.

"Am I the only one who finds this kind of funny?" Changbin asked, laughing as he observed.

"Nope. This whole thing was a joke from the beginning, anyway." Hyunjin shrugged, looking up from his phone. "Also Felix, Seung and Jeongin said they'll be here in a few minutes, guys. They told us to go ahead."

Chan greeted his friends, his eyes glancing at Miyoung from time to time. However, the girl paid absolutely no attention to him, her enamoured gaze focused on Minho, who was engaged in a conversation with Hyunjin.

He felt frustration bubble up in him. Why wasn't she interested in him? 

You cleared your throat, making Chan look at you. "I believe I was promised some cotton candy..."

Chan smiled. "Yes I did, baby. And you'll get it, but first, let me win you a plushie." He said, glancing at Minho and Miyoung who had already separated from the guys, heading towards a game booth.

"Oh...sure!" You nodded in excitement. He pulled you along, walking faster as he reached the booth, standing next to Minho.

"Ah, Chan. Wanna compete?"

"You always know I'm down for a good ol’ competition."

You stepped back, and so did Miyoung. Looking over at her, you decided to smile. She hesitated a bit before smiling back, sidling closer tentatively.

"Isn't it hot, them competing to impress us?" She giggled, clapping her hands in delight as Minho scored, making Chan grumble. "He's soo macho..." 

You sighed inwardly. "Yeah...I guess." You watched, bemused as Minho landed another goal, Chan letting out a string of curse words. 

"Oh...don't worry, your boyfriend is nice too! Chan, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm."

"He's cute. He just isn't my type, you know? But it's okay if you like jocks." She smiled giddily as Minho turned to wink at her, before he went back to trying to score. "I prefer the sexy, mysterious type."

You were trying really hard not to roll your eyes, now. Nothing about Minho was a mystery- he was just another high school bully with hidden insecurities which he hid behind smirks and winks. 

As Minho scored the third goal, Miyoung cheered happily and went towards him as he wrapped his hand around her waist, grinning at Chan. 

You patted his back, Chan's glare softening as he turned to look at you. 

"It's okay. You'll win next time." 

Chan felt humiliation rise in him as he nodded at your words, still staring at Miyoung, who decided to press a kiss to Minho's cheek. Chan boiled with anger, shrugging your hand off him.

"Darn right I will. Hey, Minho? You and me, but at the ring toss. I'm better at that game."

Minho looked up, rolling his eyes and smirking. "You're such a bitter loser. But sure, you're on."

***

An hour and a half later, Minho and Chan were nowhere near done. You sat on the chair with Miyoung, bored out of your mind as you watched them go for another round at the ring toss, again.

Fine, whatever. If Chan wasn't going to get you cotton candy, you'll just get it yourself. You smiled at Miyoung and asked her if she wanted some too, an offer which she politely refused. 

You walked to the confectionery booth, which was fairly close. However, just as you reached, you realized you didn’t actually have any money.

As you turned to leave, you came face to face with a boy, almost bumping into him.

He was one of Chan's friends. Felix, you think his name was. Your eyes widened as you apologized. 

"Sorry, I didn't see you there-"

"No, no it's okay!" He smiled at you, and you noted how warm and genuine it was. Hmm, maybe not all of Chan's friends are bad. 

"I was just going to get ice-cream for me and the guys. Did you want some too?" He asked slowly as he approached the booth, still looking at you. 

"Um yeah, but then I forgot to bring my money, so-"

"Oh, that's completely fine! It’s my treat.."

"But-" 

"No buts." Felix grinned. "What flavor do you want?"

You giggled as you moved closer to stand next to him, peeking at the flavors. "I'm partial to the cookie dough, but strawberry does hit the spot sometimes."

He chuckled as he fished out the money, handing it over to the booth runner. "One chocolate and a half strawberry, half cookie dough scoop, please."

You smiled as the person behind the counter handed Felix the cups of ice cream. 

"Here you go~" he gave you yours, smiling as you took a small bite. "How's the combination? Do you like it?"

"Oh, it's actually really good! Wanna try?" You asked, raising the spoon to his face. He chuckled, nodding. "Of course."

Meanwhile, Chan finally scored another goal, making him the winner of the last round. Miyoung cooed at Minho, her hands on his chest as she nuzzled into him. "It's okayyy~ You won the most games anyway."

Chan looked around, wondering if you'd seen the way he'd scored the last goal. For some reason, the way Miyoung was cuddling up to Minho at the moment wasn't bothering him all that much, as he noticed you were missing.

His eyes searched his surroundings, frowning as he couldn't see you anywhere. Just as he was about to ask Miyoung, his eyes finally caught sight of you.

You were standing there, feeding Felix with a spoonful of ice-cream. The latter chuckled as he spilled some, smiling as you used a tissue to wipe it off his chin.

An uncomfortable emotion rose up in him, so sudden and out of the blue that he nearly grunted. It was an emotion he'd felt a lot of times before...but never caused by you.

Chan's eyes darted from Minho and Miyoung to you and Felix, throat going dry. 

It was jealousy, mixed with confusion. He stood rooted to the spot, his heart thrumming loudly as he tried to make sense of his emotions. Why did he feel like this?

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “Ghost Driver”

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 2

“Where’s all your stuff?!” Frost asks since the apartment is pretty much empty.

“Gave it to Adam,” you sulk. “He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers so I gave in; I don’t even care… I’m glad he’s out of here.”

Jonny gazes at you in silence, a million words rushing through his mind and The Joker’s henchman can’t articulate anything close to what he would like to vociferate besides foolish small talk:

“How are you holding up?”

“Not sure… I don’t even know what the hell happened to us…It used to be so great and then he started making comments about my weight, gossiping with his friends behind my back, then cheated… I couldn’t handle it,” Y/N confesses although Frost is already acquainted with the dreadful story of her crumbled marriage.

“Not what the hell happened to us,” he decides to underline his personal opinion. “I think the question should be what the hell happened to him: you didn’t do anything wrong. And I believe you look perfect,” he mumbles the last sentence.

“What was that?” you search the fridge for his favorite soda.

“Nothing... nothing…”

“Here you go,” you offer the cold Fanta to a distraught companion.

“Thanks, Y/N. Here’s the money for tonight,” he gives you the envelope. “As usually, half now , half after the job is done.”

“OK,” you accept the terms without issues because it’s how The Clown Prince of Crime pays for your services. “Jonny, why is there an extra thousand dollars in here?!”

“Ummm…” the man tries to find a reasonable explanation yet Y/N can’t accept his strategy.

“Should I text Mister Joker and thank him for the bonus?”

“Nope,” he bites on his lip.

“I appreciate it,” you return the extra cash to Frost. ”I’m fine. Really.”

“Well…” he takes the bills and stashes them in his wallet, “… let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise I will, “ you smile. “I swear on my Turbo honor,” the joke makes him smile also.

“Hey Y/N… I was thinking… maybe one of these days, if you feel like it, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to… ”

Frost’s phone keeps ringing and he retrieves from his suit’s pocket, annoyed about the interruption.

“It’s Audra,” he huffs while declining the call.

“Might be important,” you sort of urge him to answer.

“Meh, I doubt it. She will chew my ears off regarding our relationship that ended 3 months ago. I’m not interested,” he strolls towards the exit due to another pressing matter he has to attend. “I have to go, Mister Joker has a meeting soon; I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See you,” you wave and lock the door when your cell alerts of an incoming text from The Joker.

Downloading two pictures… Pictures?!

“Oh…my… God…!” you hold your breath when the first image depicts a totally naked King of Gotham reflected in the mirror at his gym and squeal when the second one shows a close up of his mid-section.

“Oh my God!” you burst out laughing as you admire the unexpected missive. “Heeeelllo Mister Joker,” you mutter and actual phrases pop up on your screen.

“I sent these to the wrong number, Y/N. Ignore and erase them!”

“Of course, sir!” you immediately reply with no intention of doing it for the moment.

Why?

The hilarious error shook you up from apathy and it’s worth saving those pics for a bit longer since you can’t remember the last time something got your attention after the messy divorce.

***************

11:49 PM

The Joker is the first one to get in the car next to you, firmly clutching to his suitcase full of diamonds freshly stolen from “Diamond Emporium” store on Glissan Avenue. You notice the other goons sneaking to the cars deliberately positioned around nearby streets for tonight’s robbery. How come J doesn’t go with them?

The dilemma is simple:

The green haired menace typically arrives with his regular crew when he plans heists but has Y/N pick him up after the job is done.

“Hi Mister Joker,” you greet your employer.

“Hey,” he acknowledges your presence. “Did you delete the pictures?” The Joker gets straight to the point.

“Yes,” you lie and tell the truth in the same time: you erased the whole body image but kept the close up one for future reference.

“Good. What did you think?” the hasty interrogation prompts a careful chosen response.

“You look very…,” and you pause in order to find the correct term since a tiny mistake could set him off. “… Healthy, Mister Joker.”

“I do,” he huffs quite pleased with your statement.

You wish to add more but Frost and the new hire squeeze in the back seat awaiting orders.

“You’re in luck kid,” Jonny places a box filled with precious gems at his feet. “Your first assignment and you get to meet Turbo.”

The young man opens his mouth in amazement as you move the fingers from your right hand in the air instead of a proper introduction.

“You’re Turbo?! I thought you’re a guy!” Nick blurs out and Frost punches him in the head, displeased with the observation.

“Sounds empty,” you growl while The Clown snorts.

“My Ghost Driver A GUY??!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!” the unnerving, screechy noises make the newbie shrivel up. “Turbo, A GUY!” he continues to amuse himself before giving Nick a psychotic glare.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he nervously stutters especially since J called you “his”.

The poor bastard’s oblivious about what the label implies in The Clown’s universe: when The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations.

“Where the fuck did you find this buffoon?” you chew on your gum, irritated.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” Jonny sucks on his teeth.

“Uncle Panda is infinitely smarter,” Y/N barks at the revelation.

“I’m truly sorry,” Nick apologizes again and you cut him off.

“Save it!... … I hear sirens,” you slowly inhale and The King calmly articulates:

“I forgot to mention I accidentally triggered the silent alarm.”

Translation: he did it on purpose.

You snicker at the first lights blinking in the distance, excited to have some fun after stressing so much in the past weeks. The vehicles belonging to the gang scatter in different directions as you step on the gas pedal, accelerating towards the numerous police cars answering to the 10-64 code.

“That’s my girl!” J cracks his neck, already hyped at the adrenaline rush burning his veins: The Ghost Driver is perfect to offer him what he craves and she always delivers.

That’s why Turbo is his.

************

4:37 AM

“Hi…Mister…Mister Joker…” you attempt to talk without slurring.

“It’s Ella,” his girlfriend snarls.

“Why…where is he?” you guzzle down half of glass of wine, adamant in having a chat with your boss.

“Well, after you two had a merry time being chased by cops all over town, he came home and now he’s sorting out the diamonds,” the woman bitterly reports.

“I wanna talk to him,” you sniffle and drink some more alcohol.

“You just saw him. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can’t!” you shout. “I just received important information he’d be i…interested in,” you finally make it through the whole sentence.

Ella stomps in the living room, vexed at your behavior.

“It’s Turbo,” she shoves the phone in his fingers. “The bitch is wasted!”

“What did you call me?!” the appalled Y/N is about to burst when The Joker’s deep voice resonates I her ear.  

“Yeah?”

“Sir,” you correct your bitter tone. “I h-have very important news!”

“I’m listening,” J ignores his woman as she cusses you out.

“I have to tell you in person, sir. Let’s go on a date and I’ll reveal the entire shocking...”

“Huh?!”

“I have crucial information…”

“Quit repeating yourself!” The Joker interrupts. “You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep and we’ll catch up after you sober up.”

“But I wanna go on date Mister Joker,” you gulp the rest of the wine and prepare for a fourth round.

“Why, because I look healthy?” J mocks and Ella sighs, not understanding the odd conversation she’s witnessing. “… …. … Hello?”

A loud thud, then dialing tone at the other end of the line.

“I think she passed out,” The King of Gotham concludes, not particularly worried at the sudden halt of your monologue.

***************

3 Days Later

The late meeting is almost done: the buyers already purchased the diamonds J had for sale, among them your ex-husband Adam that has a small crowd gathered next to him; he’s supposedly famous for his crappy attitude enjoyed by jerks sharing the same ludicrous humor.

“You know I’m sensible when it comes to challenges and I couldn’t grasp why she doesn’t want my help in shedding a few pounds. What’s the harm in that?! I love curves but sometimes I don’t, ya’ know?” he winks and the group laughs.

The Joker is arranging money in duffle bags, his concentration diverted by the impromptu comedic performance. What the heck are they yapping about?

Frost is certainly in a foul mood: J can guess his trusted henchman is worked up since the usual chilled Jonny can’t control his anger.

“What’s wrong with being voluptuous, hm?” he addresses Adam and it clicks for The Joker: this is about Y/N.

“Nothing at all,” he smirks and the laughter around the room dies out because not too many dare screwing with Jonny Frost. “I was merely emphasizing that if a woman can’t lose weight, she’s doomed. Y/N lost me, how is she going to get another stud if she…”

“Perhaps she’s not interested in pieces of shit; definitely had her share!” Frost grumbles at the absurd remarks.

The Joker has no clue about what’s going on, yet he won’t deny today’s entertainment is far from boring.

“Give me a break!” Adam scoffs. “Who’d sniff her tail if she refuses to get skinnier? Ooohhh, wait a minute, we might have an admirer,” he arrogantly slides your cell out of his coat. “I was browsing her pictures and what do you know? A gentleman sent Y/N a picture of his junk three days ago. I am deeply sorry, my bad. She does have somebody sniffing her tail. What kind of loser sends images of his dangling goodies to another dude’s wife?!” 

“Ex-wife!” Jonny sneers whilst J’s calculation leads to an easy verdict: you kept one pic.

“Whose junk is this?! Is it yours?” your estranged spouse accuses Frost without any evidence.

“It’s my junk,” The Joker’s serene revelation makes everyone freeze: they have no idea how to react at the puzzling escalation of events.

Is he bluffing?!

“I wasn’t aware I require permission in order to text whatever I desire to whomever I want.”

Awkward silence and Frost approaches Adam, boiling with indignation.

“Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

Your husband doesn’t have a chance to justify his action: Jonny’s punch throws him to the ground, immediately followed by his unsettling ultimatum.  

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?”

Your former husband gets on his elbow ready to attack when The King’s stern inquiry stops his motion:

“WHERE.IS.MY.TURBO?”

****************

After 1 hour

Frost lifts you higher in his arms while you keep wheezing, trying to regain control.

“I’m sorry…I attacked you,” the weakened Y/N whispers. “I thought you were Adam...”

After being abducted and left to starve for the last 3 days, you had one clear purpose: to kill the guy that did it. Adam surely crossed the line with his despicable plan of making you lose weight: he creeped in your apartment, kidnapped you and took you to his home where you were chained in the cellar until Jonny found you. The basement was dark and you couldn’t see, that’s why you used whatever strength you had left in order to attack the individual responsible for your misfortune.

Turned out it was actually a rescue party although Frost is now the proud owner of a beautiful bump courtesy of Y/N.

“No problem,” Jonny takes you to his SUV, carefully laying you down in the passenger’s seat. “How’s your head?” he wipes the dried blood on your cheeks since Adam knocked you out unconscious while you were talking to The Joker after the heist.

“I’m OK,” you start crying, mostly mad at yourself for being such an easy prey, yet you didn’t see it coming.

“You know… It’s OK not to be OK,” Frost opens a bottle of water and gives it to you. “I’ll take you home, you can take a shower and I’ll have the doctor come for an emergency evaluation. Are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” tears stream down your face and Jonny has a great proposal.

“I’ll order some food and if you want me to I can stay with you. After you feel better, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to…”

The Joker rolls his eyes, deciding to emerge from the shadows.

“Wow, this is painful to watch. Frost believes he’s still in high school: basically he’s asking you on a date. There, done. No need to beat around the bush. Jesus!” J scolds about a subject he shouldn’t mess with. “I have a heist next week, you better be good to go by then!” he gestures at the confused duo. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own date to honor. We’re done here, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Jonny replies for both, unwilling to split hairs with The Joker and his obnoxious aberrations. “Here’s your cell,” he returns the item to you and you snatch it, relieved. You seem to have an outburst of energy as you unlock the secured folder.

“Where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know, we had an altercation at the warehouse then he scrammed,” Frost reports, ogling a strange looking Y/N typing on her phone.

“He won’t be able to hide,” you grin and send the attachment to The Joker.

*************

“We’ll be late for dinner,” Ella kisses The Clown. “I’m not a 100% positive why we had to waste precious time and come for her,” she pouts and drags him after her towards their vehicle.

J’s phone chimes and he stops in his tracks, not expecting a message from you seconds after the encounter.

“Mister Joker, you were very generous to share pictures with me.

Allow me to do the same.

Your Turbo.”

Imagines downloading and he’s not sure what to do when pics appear one by one: frames taken by the private investigator you hired to follow Adam when you suspected he was cheating. The bastard was diligent, but he was eventually caught in the act three days ago.

Who’s the woman he’s with?

The Joker’s Queen.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns at the visible switch in his temper.

The Clown ruthlessly slams Ella against the hood while her cell also receives a text from Y/N:

“Who’s the bitch now?”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[writing-royza]

Royai Week Prompt One: Letter

What’s up, my loves, I’ve only been out of the game for… six months, but it was far too long! And what a way to dive back in. Happy Royai Week to all!

-----

Every Five Words

For a moment, the sight of the innocuous white envelope caused her breath to freeze in her lungs. There was no postmark, meaning it had been hand-delivered to her mailbox, and in this time of Pride and Bradley practically breathing down her neck… a hand delivery became suspicious.

When she saw the name on the return address, however, her lungs thawed and air returned. Smiling to herself, she tucked the envelope from “Berthold Mangrum” inside her folded copy of the Central Times, closed the mailbox, and headed for the stairs, a scene from the not-too-distant past playing in her memory.

“Moving to Central could be the more dangerous thing we’ve ever done,” he said solemnly, the gravity of the words dampened somewhat by the fact that he was beginning to slur his words, and that they were seated on the floor of her new apartment, surrounded by boxes. “I’m not liked here, Grumman’s not liked here... I don’t think even Hughes was particularly liked.” He shook his head. “We’re going to have to be extra careful in working to get to the top. Compartmentalize information, redact files, verbal check-and-response when we talk over serious stuff... maybe codenames.”

Reaching out, Riza caught his hand and removed the wine glass from it before his gesturing as he spoke ended up with spilled alcohol or broken glass. “We already have codenames,” she reminded him, taking a sip from her own glass. She was not so far gone as he was, mostly due to the fact that she she was pacing herself to avoid that situation, but she could feel the light buzzing in her mind beginning to get stronger. “‘Elizabeth,’ ‘Jacqueline,’ ‘Kate....’”

“You have a codename,” he countered. “But I don’t. ‘The Flame Alchemist’ does not count,” he said, cutting her off with a levelled finger as she opened her mouth to say exactly that. “I need one for things that maybe the higher-ups don’t need to know about.”

“And so which one of your sisters will you be co-opting this new name from?” she countered, leaning back against a box. From the way it clinked, she suspected it contained the flatware they hadn’t been able to find at dinner time. “Madeline? Vanessa? Or maybe... as the leader, you become the leader.” She smiled with no small amount of wickedness as his eyes darted toward her. “I think you would make a very good Chris.”

“Careful. If you say that too loud, it summons her.” Apparently done his gesticulating, he retrieved his own wine glass, taking a thoughtful sip. “What if... I took the name from another part of our lives? Still one that isn’t likely to be recognized as being connected with me, but with enough significance to us to make it obvious?”

When she was safe behind her apartment door, with Hayate prancing excitedly around her feet, Riza took the envelope from its hiding place, and glanced at the name again. Her father’s name, little-known even in its connection to her, the same for ‘Mangrum;’ a simple anagram of her grandfather’s name, the two references combined together in a way that could only be Roy.

Tearing the envelope open, she left it on the counter, moving to sit on the floor with her dog, who immediately climbed into her lap to shower her face in welcome-home licks. Craning her neck to see past his ears, she caught the first few words, enough to recognize the clue that the paragraphs held a message within a message.

“Hayate.” She used the special voice; the command voice, and he instantly froze, watching her intently. “Guard.”

The little Shiba gave a sharp yap, nearly deafening her with its closeness before scrambling off her lap and beginning at slow patrol of the apartment. Riza still wasn’t sure how well a dog’s sense for the supernatural did at detecting nosy Homonculi, but she was willing to bet that if Pride came sniffing around, Hayate would sense him coming.

Getting up, she retrieved a pen from beside the telephone, and settled at the kitchen table, spreading the letter in front of her. ‘Dear Riza,’ it started, innocently enough. ‘Five weeks since we last spoke.’ Pen at the ready and dog on alert, she skimmed the letter quickly.

Dear Riza:

Five weeks since we last spoke. I thought I would miss drinking, but, I tell you, turns out its not so bad; it’s just very much a battle royale of will. I’ll probably have to call ‘uncle’  and give in soon, the question is just how soon. I probably shouldn’t do, but I promise that I’m okay. The new job’s fine; I’m trying out some new ideas, some methods, some plans. It’s all starting to form up.

Ironworkers union might strike soon. “We’re all a team!” they say. It’s getting old. They’re no team, just friends getting the short stick from management. There’s a wage war, basically. I think a bartender earns more. Nobody will pass the picket line, so you know they’ll win soon.

Information kiosk being built downtown. Men started construction, getting it all set up. It’s a fine idea; good for tourists, kids getting lost, old people too.

I remember that you love Xingese food. I told you about the new noodle take out place, right? They care a lot about customers.

Whoops, five minute break is over; better get back to work. Have a good one.

Sincerely, Berthold Mangrum

She double-checked the letter and her interpretation of the code, writing each word as she found it in the margins of the paper. Hayate still prowled about, his claws clicking lightly on the wooden floor, occasionally stopping to sniff some innocuous item or other. By the time she finished, Roy’s message was loud and clear.

Five weeks since we last spoke. That was the code clue. A number in the first sentence to give her the basis for deciphering whatever he’d hidden in more innocuous sentences.

I thought I would miss drinking, but, I tell you, turns out its not so bad; it’s just very much a battle royale of will. I’ll probably have to call ‘uncle’ and give in soon, the question is just how soon. I probably shouldn’t do, but I promise that I’m okay. The new job’s fine; I’m trying out some new ideas, some methods, some plans. It’s all starting to form up.

She wrote quickly. miss you so much/will call soon/how do/ I’m fine/new plans form- She frowned, the sentence not making sense until she checked the next paragraph.

Ironworkers union might strike soon. “We’re all a team!” they say. It’s getting old. They’re no team, just friends getting the short stick from management. There’s a wage war, basically.

new plans/form strike team/old friends from war

Now that made sense. He had made mention once of how his squad had shown a little appreciation when the fighting was over, how they liked his command style, and especially that he worked to keep them safe in a battle, instead of sending them headlong into danger. She paused, trying to remember all the names he had told her, but knew she fell short. She could recall Damiano, Charlie… Dino was a possibility, though she wasn’t sure.

I think a bartender earns more. Nobody will pass the picket line, so you know they’ll win soon.

Information kiosk being built downtown. Men started construction, getting it all set up. It’s a fine idea; good for tourists, kids getting lost, old people too.

The part of her mind that wasn’t concentrating on deciphering his code was left free to observe that, to anyone else reading this letter, it would sound scattered, distracted, rambling…. Probably exactly how Bradley and the Homonculi thought he would be after being stripped of his most essential staff and being placed under careful surveillance.

bartender pass you Information/men all fine/ - good, that was a load off of her mind – kids too

So it was his intention to pass her information through his mother; probably the safest best. Chris knew how to keep her mouth shut and keep from being noticed. But the next part…. Riza frowned again. Kids? Did he maybe mean Elicia and hadn’t found a way to use the singular form — oh. Her shoulders relaxed in relief she didn’t know she had been hoping for; the Elrics were all right. Spirits rising, she turned her attention to the last couple of lines… and felt them take off as though rocket-propelled.

I remember that you love Xingese food. I told you about the new noodle take out place, right? They care a lot about customers.

Four simple words that somehow felt like a steadying hand on her shoulder, or a soft, soothing kiss to her forehead. love you/take care

The last line, ‘Whoops, five minute break is over; better get back to work. Have a good one.’ was the indicator that the code was finished, with no more to follow until the next letter. Riza kept her eyes on those last four decoded words as she stood, moving toward the kitchen sink. Reaching into a drawer beside it, she withdrew a small card box, and regretfully set the letter into the metal basin.

She struck the match and let it fall, consuming the evidence… and letting the flames burn the words into her memory.

[indiavolowetrust]

unexpected presents are best unwrapped.

SUMMARY: Levi is given a present. Things do not go as planned. MC is a Catholic girl raised in rural Spain and based on various female saints (for the sake of MC having a backstory).

1

I pull my blazer closer to my skin, doing my best to fight off a shiver. Despite the completely stagnant state of the Devildom’s weather -- the air is always on the cusp of an unpleasant, biting frigidity -- I have forgotten, again, to dress appropriately for the lack of warmth. It is at times like this that I long for the mild spring seasons of Spain again. While the Devildom holds its own in its spiraling, indulgent architecture, dark skies, and extravagant views of the city, it is difficult to ward off the yearning when I am reminded of my homeland. I pine for the sight of sunlight, Spanish cathedrals, intricately carved reliefs and paintings -- even the annoying but familiar sight of our neighbor’s farm dogs, forever yapping up a storm at our gates. And the ocean. God, I miss the ocean. As overbearing as my Catholic family is, we would never pass up an opportunity to stuff ourselves into the automobile and journey to the seashore.

It is April, after all. Springtime. If I were in the human world right now, my school adjourned for our seasonal break, I imagine that Mama would have long corralled us into the car to take us to the ocean. The fresh, salty sea breeze would visage, embracing my body with its pleasant aura, and then we would say our evening prayers, no matter the distance that exists between us and a physical church.

We should thank Him for such blessings, she would say, holding her rosary to her breast, for He loves each of his children equally and unconditionally. We must rise above the temptations of demons and devils, for it is our duty to uphold our position as the children of God. It is His will.

What a horrible, fantastic lie that was.

Another wind passes through the streets of the Devildom again, forcing me to withdraw even further into the confines of my RAD uniform. I silently thank Lord Diavolo everyday for thinking to provide me with one upon first arrival. Without the inadvertent disguise that the school uniform provides me, I imagine that one of the lesser demons walking the streets would have long devoured my body and soul. Especially seeing that I possess no physical traits that could make me even pass for a demon. Better yet, the uniform is similar to that of my Catholic school uniform: a dark, knee-length skirt, sensible shoes, and a blazer decorated with golden buttons. And black stockings, for the purposes of both modesty and warmth. It is a near identical version to the one that the Avatar of Greed would be wearing, save for his personal, frivolous touches, and one that I would be able to spot easily in the crowd before me if he were to appear.

That is, if Mammon is still here. For all I know, the loudmouth has already wandered somewhere else in his endless pursuit of money.

A lesser demon gives me an odd look as he passes by, recognizing me as an unsupervised human, and I do my best to look as nonchalant and unbothered as possible. It is expected to be in the vicinity of so many demons, of course, seeing how I am standing in the middle of a shopping district -- but it is not expected to be so unprotected.

Damn it, Mammon, where are you? I think, instinctively scanning the crowd for his tell-tale fair hair and dark skin. My search yields little success. It’s already --

“I told ya that I found it!” erupts a voice behind me, a tone of arrogance apparent in the strange language of the demons. I nearly jump out of my skin. “What’d I tell you about listenin’ to the Great Mammon?”

I whirl around to face the grinning demon. “You -- you could have done that without scaring me,” I protest indignantly, much to his humor. “Just because your brothers do that all the time doesn’t mean you have to do it to me!”

Mammon’s grin only widens, satisfaction evident on his features. “Why not? It’s more fun this way. Just because your human senses are at the bottom of the barrel doesn’t mean that we can’t mess with ya.”

“Well --”

“Come on, let’s go!” Mammon begins to stride in the opposite direction, completely ignoring my words. “I promised Lucifer that I’d have you back before dinner. It’s not that far from here, anyway.”

I sigh, seeing how little of a choice that I have in the matter.

As it turns out, it is very, very far. Or at least that’s how my body feels about the journey. Despite having worked on my family’s farm all my life, it is difficult to keep up with Mammon’s considerably longer strides, and I find my lungs protest at the exertion. A side-effect of living a more idle life in the Devildom, I would expect. Mammon browses the figurines and objects through the window of the hobby shop, his eyes bouncing from item to item.

“I thought you said it wasn’t far,” I say, catching my breath.

“Not for a demon,” he responds nonchalantly. His eyes catch on something on display. “Think he’d like something like that?”

I follow his gaze. His eyes are locked on what appears to be a more plain but stylish-looking wallet, missing the typical brand of the TSL series. Dark and well-made and not at all to Levi’s tastes or use, as it would appear. I frown at the greedy spark in Mammon’s eyes.

"You’re not tricking me into buying a new home for Goldie,” I remark, crossing my arms. “And I’m pretty sure Levi wouldn’t want a brand new wallet for his birthday. Doesn’t he only buy things online?”

“Ya never know,” says Mammon. “If we demons want something, we want something. No ifs, ands, or buts. He could decide to start using a credit card tomorrow, if he wanted to.”

“And he won’t.”

Mammon pouts. “I am his older brother, you know.”

“So his older brother would know to get him something a little better than that,” I say, searching the window of the shop myself for a more suitable present. My heart still hammers in my chest, but I’ve gotten it closer to a more manageable pace. Something catches my eye, and I point at it before I can fully inspect it. “What about that?”

Mammon’s eyes follow my finger. “That?”

It is a perfect replica of the Lord of Shadow. Mint condition, featuring his signature outfit from the very first season of the series, and, most importantly, a special limited edition of the product. A hefty price tag of nine thousand Grimm is attached to the bottom of its display case. Mammon scrunches his face in disapproval as he notices the price tag, wincing at the unexpectedly high price, but I know better than to relent.

“Are you sure he would want that?” he asks, his attention floating back to the more desirable wallet. “I mean, how do you know that he already doesn’t have that?”

“It’s a limited edition,” I point out. “It looks like it just came out.”

“He’s probably collected about a hundred of those things already. If you get the wallet, then --”

“I’m not getting the wallet just so he can give it to you when he doesn’t want it.” I begin to fish in my pocket for my own wallet, my fingers searching for the Grimm hidden within. They close over the foreign currency after a few moments. “And it’s for his birthday, not yours. I’ll get you anything you want when the time comes.”

Mammon brightens at that. A little too much. “Really? Anything?”

I sigh. “Well, not anything, but --”

The sound of the door to the shop opening interrupts me, the bells ringing out from inside of the store. Mammon’s incoming protests immediately die in his throat, surprise written on his features as he suddenly goes quiet. It takes me a moment to glance over in the direction Mammon faces, still preoccupied with the thought of his gift, but Mammon quickly nudges me in the side to grab my attention. I turn.

Levi looks awkwardly at the both of us, a paper bag in his hands. His golden eyes flicker back and forth between Mammon and I. I do my best to guard my intentions.

“What are you two doing here?” Levi asks.

I try to think up a lie on the fly. “I -- well, we--”

Mammon quickly hooks his arm around my shoulder, his body draping over my much smaller form. I startle, but his firm grip on my shoulder prevents me from jumping away. He grins. “This little human and I were just on a date!” he exclaims, nuzzling his face closer to mine. I resist the urge to shove the loudmouth away. “Beel told me about this ice cream place down the street, and I decided to take little St. Maria here out for the afternoon. What are you doing here?”

Levi takes a moment to glance past us, gaze landing on the bookstore next to the novelty shop. There is no ice cream shop around here, of course, but I have no choice but to concede with Mammon’s obvious lie. If Levi were to find out that we were planning on dragging him out of his room for a surprise birthday party, I have no doubts that he would do anything to excuse himself from the occasion. I force what I hope is a convincing smile on my face, hoping that Levi doesn’t see through the ruse.

“I -- I thought you were studying in your room for the rest of the day,” I say, leaning into Mammon’s embrace. “I didn’t see you at RAD this morning.”

“I see,” he says.

Mammon holds me closer to him, his easy grin still plastered on his face. He all but crushes his cheek into my dark curls -- a move that is only the slightest bit awkward -- as he does so, keeping up the pretense. “We should probably get going before it closes down,” he says quickly. “Right, human?”

I nod. “We -- we should.”

“Great! Then we’ll get going.” Mammon quickly turns around, my smaller frame soaring an inch off the ground, and flashes Levi a parting wave. “Be seeing you around, huh?”

Mammon doesn’t wait for Levi to answer, instead dragging us both down the street until he’s sure that we’re no longer in his line of sight. Mammon being the stronger out of both of us -- and, more importantly, a demon -- tucks me under his arm and strides as we escape Levi’s scrutiny. I only catch the barest glimpse of Levi’s features as Mammon all but spirits me away, his expression somehow indiscernible, and we lock eyes for a moment.

An odd pang of guilt strikes me, despite the lack of a reason for it.

* * *

Hours later, after dinner, my thoughts are still preoccupied with the image of Levi’s expression in the street. I absentmindedly lather the shampoo into my dark locks as I stand under the shower, allowing my thoughts to wander. His eyes -- his eyes had darkened almost imperceptibly as Mammon carried me away, his bangs shadowing his visage as he watched. Or had it just been a trick of the light? He hadn’t been smiling, that was for sure, but that wasn’t anything to be worried about. After so many months at RAD, I have never known Levi to be the particularly cheery type. The side of his mouth had twitched as he frowned, his mood somehow lessening even more than usual. Maybe he had seen through the lie? Or perhaps Mammon had annoyed him again somehow, seeing how that seems to be a constant pattern between the two. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that --

No, you do know better, I chide myself, rinsing the rest of the shampoo from my hair. The dark locks begin to revitalize themselves under the water, popping up in loose ringlets. This isn’t the same Levi that tried to attack me back then.

The knob of the shower turns easily, the water stopping a few moments after, and I climb out of the bathtub dripping wet. That state is remedied easily: I towel myself off and plop my curls with hair product Asmodeus had generously lent to me, working the cream into from root to end. Given that I had been essentially kidnapped and spirited away into the Devildom, it would do no good to return to Mama and my family with both a lack of clothes and dry, splitting hair. And so I take my time with the process before dressing for the night.

I pull on a pair of thick wool socks along with a roomy pair of pajamas, each piece borrowed from one of the brothers at the beginning of my stay. An oversized sweatshirt and rolled-up pajama pants. It is cold in the House of Lamentation -- a characteristic likely attributed to the demons’ hardier nature -- and I have little reason to ask Lucifer to adjust the entire temperature of the hall to one human’s preferences. I’ve already checked my room over and over again for a heater or source of heat. Despite all of Lord Diavolo’s preparations beforehand, the topic of making the temperature of the hall or my room more bearable had slipped his mind, subjecting me to hours of shivering during the long nights.

Again, there is that pang of homesickness. According to Asmodeus, the Devildom has no true seasons. Nothing that a human like me would consider seasons, in that case. There’s cold weather, colder weather, and then there is a teeth-chattering frigidity that leaves me shivering and miserable on the best of nights.

Worse, if the Devildom has something even resembling an ocean or seashore, we are nowhere near close to one.

My D.D.D. buzzes, catching my attention. After drying and plopping my curls more in the towel, I pick it up and check the messages.

Got the goods? Mammon asks.

I take a quick glance at the Lord of Shadow figurine on my nightstand, still protected in both its case and plastic bag. Yes.

Betcha that he’s already got that one, Mammon texts me. Should’ve gotten that wallet, if you ask me.

I sigh. You wanna go and check? Your room is right next to his.

Nah, he’d just think that I was in there to steal something, he texts back after a moment. Isn’t he supposed to be at some weird costume thing tonight?

But you would be, I point out.

You say that like it’s a bad thing.

I stare at my phone for a few minutes, deciding if I should respond, then ultimately end up tossing it onto my bed. He is right, as much as it vexes me to admit it. The chances of just giving Levi a duplicate of something he already has -- especially something concerning his favorite Lord of Shadow character -- are too high to be negligible. And it -- it wouldn’t be too weird to waltz into his room to check, would it? No, it probably would be.

Then again, back in the human world, I never thought I would spirited away into the realm of devils and demons. Surely there could be some leeway in the terms of socially acceptable actions.

* * *

The corridor in front of Levi’s room is empty, as expected. The moonlight -- rather, the light from what appears to be something resembling a moon -- shines through great, uncovered windows in the hallway, lighting my path. I tread lightly on sock-laden feet. After another quick check into the hallway and testing the doorknob, I slip into Levi’s room.

I’ve been in his room enough to know to navigate the worst parts of his room -- namely, the giant bathtub and aquarium -- and so I walk straight to where I should be looking: the encased, protected shelf on his wall. Unlike the hall, however, Levi has left his curtains mostly closed. I nearly trip and bump into random bags and other piles of clutter in his room as I make my way towards my destination, narrowly avoiding each obstruction each time.

I scrutinize the case when I reach it, making sure not to touch the surface of the glass. A demon as obsessive as Levi would notice. Unfortunately, with the lack of light in the room, it is incredibly difficult to discern the differences between the figurines, much less recognize which figurine is which. I find myself simply staring at the case for a moment, eyes flitting between each figurine. There are plenty of figurines of the Lord of Shadow, as evidenced by the signature silhouette, and I strain my eyes to search for the particular form of the limited edition figure.

Minutes pass. I feel a slight headache emerging from the eye strain, but my efforts have paid off: to my knowledge, no such figurine exists in his collection. At least, there is no such figurine in his display case. Better yet, it’ll be something to prove the greedy, arrogant loudmouth wrong. I begin to carefully make my way past the piles of clutter again, nudging various objects aside when need be. I bump into the massive bathtub in the center of the room, its form completely obscured by the shadow, and --

And there is a noise in the corridor.

Levi.

I make my way to the door as quickly and quietly as I can, panic beginning to rise. While I could possibly lie my way out of explaining why I was in his room -- I had gone into the wrong room, maybe -- I doubt that it would be enough to convince him. For someone that spends most of their time cooped up their room, he is awfully perceptive. And I am an awfully bad liar.

I quietly slip into the hallway once more, muffling the sound of the closing door as much as I can. The corridor is dark, as it had been when I left it, but I know better than to let my guard down. If Levi were to enter from the door in the front lobby, it would be better to simply make my way down the stairs in the opposite direction. I pad quietly on the thicker parts of the rug on the floor, heading towards the end of the hall. The sound of footsteps begins to near me. I quicken my pace, turning the corner.

I smack into something solid, sending me careening into the floor. Thankfully, I break the fall with my face. My cheekbone smarts as I groan in pain, the throbbing sensation spreading across my visage, and I begin to lift myself up and off the wooden floor. A shadow looms over me for a moment, hindering my vision in the limited light. I turn my face upwards.

“Levi,” I acknowledge.

Levi looks down at me, his features marginally obscured by the headpiece of his cosplay. “Maria.”

We stare at each other, unsure of how to react. He clears his throat after a moment, his initial confusion dissipating somewhat, and offers me a hand. “Um, do you -- you need help getting up,” he says, changing the question into a statement mid-sentence. “You can take my hand -- if you want, that is. Don’t feel --”

I grab his hand and quickly pull myself to my feet, prompting Levi to awkwardly sputter the rest of his sentence. I move a little too quickly, however: the throbbing bruise on my cheek combined with the sudden vertigo is wholly disorienting, and I end up stumbling forward into his chest again. Thankfully, he manages to catch me this time. When I push myself away from him, putting a hand to my face, I notice that an odd flush has spread across his cheeks. Or maybe it is only light from the windows that is casting odd shadows over his visage.

“Sorry about that,” I apologize quickly. “I was on the way back from getting a midnight snack.”

Idiot, I think to myself. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. The kitchen is downstairs by your room.

Levi’s gaze flickers just past me, towards where I know the older of the brothers’ rooms are. I fidget. Then he is taking in my appearance -- wet hair, baggy clothing, and all -- and I find myself withering under his gaze, the discomfort growing to an almost unbearable level. All traces of the dorky, awkward Levi seem to have suddenly dissipated, the air between us suddenly palpable with tension. Tension for reasons that I can’t quite discern. Given the unforeseen shift in the demon’s mood, no matter his usual countenance, I decide that it is better not to ask.

Again, there is that strange expression. His golden eyes seem to flash with an almost imperceptible emotion for a moment, his bangs overshadowing the bridge of his nose.

His gaze meets mine for a moment. The intensity in them is harsh, nearly overwhelming, and I tear my eyes away on instinct. Something is wrong. His presence feels predatory somehow. Carnivorous. As if he were a serpent and I were a mere mouse caught in its jaws. As if I were a rabbit and he were the hunter. As if he were truly and very much a demon and I were a weak, insignificant human, ripe for the taking. He mumbles something inaudible under his breath.

For the first time, I feel fear.

I see Levi reaching for me just out of the corner of my vision, the shadows strange on his form. The air is cold, colder than it's ever been, as if the sheer will of his displeasure has changed the property of the air around it. I almost perceive the shadows forming on the wall behind him. My mind begins to throw flashbacks of the first time I had ever seen his true form: dark, coral-like horns, a serpentine tail, strange marks on what skin I could see. His hand comes within an inch of me, bearing what almost look like claws through the gloves.

I run.

part 2

[fluidityandgiggles]

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 2

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1

Notes (I guess): I am equally in love and in deep hate with some (a lot) of what’s going on in here, and I am terribly, terribly sorry. And also there are some characters I wanted to explore a bit further than what had been in this part, but... I’m working on it. Give it a bit and I’ll get there. Again, credit to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for screaming at me to write this, and to @whatwashernameagain for Keep Him Safe, and also a tiny tiny lil bit to @anony-phangirl and @asleepybisexual for their general support and for being such great sports about me annoying them with my ideas... (oops).

(I’m trying to find a way to write my notes, so bear with me until I find a way to… it might take a hot minute.)

(KHS) Tag List (sort of): @em-be-lievable, @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2, @adoratato, @supremestoverlord, @royallyanxious, @madly-handsome, @hanramz-the-fander, @the-incedible-sulk, @poisonedapples, @virge-of-a-breakdown, @winglessnymph, @princeanxious, @smokeyrutilequartz, @im-bad-at-life (if any of you could tag the rest, please do! I’m improving my memory from day to day, but… yeah…)

Tag list: @bunny222, @ab-artist, @secretlyanxiouspersona

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter in particular includes some very heavy misgendering and deadnaming (if you get what I’m saying). Please be careful.

—————

Science of Living Systems 20 actually wasn't as bad as Remy thought it would be. It was rather cool, actually.

Well, at least he hoped it was.

The head of the department was… an interesting individual. Remy met with him during the application process. The man insisted on calling him "Miss Harris" and speaking to and about him in girl pronouns, and Remy understood why.

For some reason, though, Remy expected all the professors to be like that. And not such was the case.

"Rebecca Harris, I want to see you later in my office."

Doctor Gilliam was in his late thirties, called everyone by their first and last names, thought that being single was hilarious, made really bad puns in his lectures (though Remy heard, not as much outside of them), and tried his best to be "hip with the kids". It was worrying, to say the least. And… yeah, Remy was slightly terrified.

"I'm kind of worried, kid," Gilliam said the moment Remy walked in. "You don't look too-"

"Excuse me, Doctor, but I don't know what this is about."

"Have you heard about shadows and personae, Rebecca Harris?" Remy shook his head, terrified to say a word. "Well, it's quite an interesting concept. According to Carl Jung, you'll learn about him later, the persona is the mask you wear in the world. It's what you want others to see. The shadow is your innermost self, the parts of your identity that you wish to hide from others."

"Okay, and?"

"I think your persona might be cracking."

What… was going on?

"I'm not making sense, am I? I'm sorry. There's a lot that goes into that theory and I shouldn't confuse you this much, at least not until we get to it."

Yeah… it was weird.

"So, my point is… you can talk to me if anything is making you uncomfortable, okay?"

"Okay… I guess."

"Well, that is all," Doctor Gilliam said, fixing his glasses.

That… was weird. But okay. If that's how he wants to do things. Remy wasn't going to complain.

He was definitely better than the head of department.

—

There was a knock at the door.

Abby, their RA, was over earlier. Apparently Katherine had a bit of a scene right after class. So naturally, Remy assumed it would be Abby. No one else could be knowing on their door at ten thirty pm-

"We don't have your bunny this time. You can go."

Oh.

"Oh, no, I just…" Remy could hear that… kid? Whatever his name was, from the door. "I just need… I need someone to help me with something. And…"

"Oh. Remy can help."

"No I can't," Remy replied. "I need sleep and so do you!"

"It won't take long, I promise!"

"...fine." Remy got off the couch - the nice, comfy couch, where there was a blanket and his sols20 book - to the door. Where that kid (Emile? Emile) was looking at him with those big blue eyes and…

Yeah, Remy regretted unbinding. (Well, no. He did not. But also kind of did.)

"Hey… Rebecca, right—"

"His name is Remy."

Emile seemed shocked for a moment. Oh shit. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I just… I see you in most of my classes, so… never mind. So… how are you with baking?"

—

"So my sister Julie is LaVeyan—"

"Aren't we supposed to be baking cookies, babe?"

"Yeah, but… the stuff's all in the cabinets and I'm looking!"

Emile was a disaster child, Remy decided after only five minutes alone together. He brought a violin and his bunny to the kitchen in the pursuit of baking cookies - like, what even? - and he just seemed so… energetic? Happy? Whatever the word was. A couple minutes ago he was talking about the cookies, sure, but then he switched it to the importance of guided imagery, and then why Li Shang from Mulan is bisexual, and now… what was he even talking about?

"So my sister is a LaVeyan Satanist," Emile repeated himself, almost climbing on the counter to reach a cabinet. "It's kinda funny, actually. My dad's side of the family are all Catholic, and— can you put the sugar on the countertop, please? Thank you!"

"Sweetie, for the eleventh time this past ten minutes, I understand nothing you're saying."

"Am I speaking another language or something? Because if so I'm sorry!"

"No, it's just…" How does he not hurt his feelings? "It's just… you talk fast and about a lot of subjects at the same time."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry."

Maybe he thought Remy couldn't hear, but there was definitely a "this is just one of the things that are wrong about me" thrown in the air.

Emile didn't speak to him for the rest of the process. Maybe once or twice he pointed out a step or an ingredient, but overall he did not speak. At all. And then the cookies were in the oven…

And then he pulled out his violin.

"Is this really necessary?"

"I'm not talking to you."

"Emile, is it because of something I said?" Emile, still pouting (as he had been for a good hour and some now), nodded. "Well, I'm sorry. Please don't silent treatment me."

"I talk too fast and too much."

"Not what I said. I just said I can't follow you. I didn't say it's your fault. Please don't—"

Emile pretty much just ignored Remy (uhh, rude!) and positioned his violin, and started to play something… quite angrily.

After a minute and a half Remy recognized it as Once Upon a Dream from Sleeping Beauty.

After another three minutes, he dared open his mouth again. "I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean to. Do you accept my apology?"

"...fine."

It was not fine. Absolutely not.

"Thanks for the help with the cookies," he said as they separated at the top of the stairs, all one-hundred-and-ninety cookies (Emile insisted on quadrupling the recipe) safely packed in plastic boxes and hidden away. "I… I'm gonna go now."

"Emile, please." He turned around, still looking quite pissed. (It was probably the hour, Remy tried telling himself. It's already past one am. This is not good.) "Are you mad that I said I'm confused?"

"To be honest with you, yes! Yes, I'm mad. I know it wasn't your intention but I heard you say shut the fuck up when you said that. And it hurt. Very badly."

...oh.

"I'm going to forgive you, but it's going to take me a bit, so please don't be mad at me, okay?" Emile honestly looked close to tears. "Good night, Remy. I'll see you in living systems tomorrow."

And then he went to his suite, violin and bunny with him.

Remy just got himself into a huge mess.

—

It was a beautiful afternoon in Boston when Remy found himself at the rather posh Italian place his mom wanted to meet at.

Before their divorce in late 1999, just after Remy turned fifteen, his father started contacting a charity organization dedicated to help transgender youth. He educated himself. Tried to educate his wife as well. But… apparently it was the last straw for Linda. The very night he tried to even just explain that it's not her fault, that it's how he was born, she packed up her things and left.

The divorce papers came in less than two months later. The divorce was finalized in November 1999. Remy did not see her since.

(Yeah… that was a lie. He actually hasn't seen her since Christmas 2001. But that was still a very long time. Almost a year is a long time.)

"Well, at least the weather's nice." And there she was with her new boy toy. Glamorous as ever, with her stupidly huge sunglasses and her bright red (disgustingly fake, makes India's hair seem real) curly bob, looking exactly the same as she did that day Remy came out to her.

A few hours later, though. When she thought he was asleep and left the house to go to some party.

"Well, at least you're still not very nice, Linda," he said with a smirk as he sat down next to her boy toy (he actually looks kinda nice, for a forty-something year old). "But much unlike the weather, I don't think this is a thing that can change so easily."

"Where are your manners, Rebecca?"

"The same place those diamond earrings you forgot when you left us are. At home with Dad, probably watching South Park."

"Well, at least we left the girls at home." Linda took off her sunglasses and replaced them with a normal, frameless pair of glasses. "I don't believe you met Stephen before, Rebecca."

"I don't believe I've met a Rebecca before, Linda."

"Are you ready to order?"

It took about two minutes for all the orders to place (of course Stephen had to order something overly fancy, because why the fuck not) before she started yapping again.

"Rebecca, I didn't ask to see you for you to be so rude to me."

"I didn't ask to see you, period."

"What would you like to be called, then?" Stephen asked. Well…

"Remy. My name is Remy."

"Your name is—"

"My name is not Rebecca! I haven't gone by that name since I was fourteen. Dad never called me that since the day I asked him to call me Remy. You're the only one who ever insisted, how do you think it made me feel?"

"How do you think it made me feel, Rebecca?" Remy hoped no one was looking. "My own daughter. I jeopardized my own high school graduation to have you because your father was dumb enough to forget the condoms. I gave up life-long dreams just to raise you, because that retard of a father you have couldn't. Is this how you repay me?"

There was a very awkward silence, that was broken by an unfamiliar voice - deep, with a southern drawl - and a confused "Rebecca?"

India. Without her makeup, her hair pulled back.

Looking almost perfectly manly.

"Excuse me?" Linda straightened her glasses, glaring at India. Oh, how Remy did not want this to happen… "And you are?"

"Ian McGinty, ma'am. I'm her boyfriend."

Oh.

"Your father didn't tell me you have a boyfriend," Linda spoke slowly.

"Because he doesn't know everything. And my name is still Remy."

"Ethan and I are gonna go now," India said, her voice still lower, still more southern than normal. "Text me when you're done, we'll go get ice cream?"

"...sure."

And then she leaned down and said, in the voice Remy grew to know and absolutely adore, "we're going to talk about this. Don't worry, I got your back."

And then she was gone.

"So a boyfriend, huh?"

"...so how many men have you fucked before meeting Stephen, Linda?"

—

"I'm so sorry about your mom, baby."

India's brother, Ethan, looked nothing like her. Well, he looked like a more manly, less boyish version of ‘manly' India, but also nothing alike. He also didn't talk much. So that was fun.

India took them to get ice cream indeed. (And much like her music taste, her favorite ice cream flavors - burnt caramel and earl grey - were rather… interesting. But she did swear that Toscanini's was probably the best ice cream in Cambridge, and who was Remy to argue with her?)

"It's alright. She's always been like this."

"Doesn't make it alright." Ethan grunted in agreement. "Take it from me, Remy. It's never alright."

"Does he have an Esther?"

India's eyes rolled so far back. "Do you think that every trans person have to have an Esther, Ethan? Do you truly think it's how we realize our identity?"

"It's how you did yours."

"I knew I'm a girl since the moment I understood who I am. Any related accidents after that are purely incidental."

"India, I think I fucked up." She looked up at him from her half-melted ice cream cup. "I told you about Emile, right?"

"You're still stuck on that?" Remy nodded. "Look… that kid told you he forgives you. You saw him in class since then, he didn't say anything to you… you're doing fine, sweetie."

"Is that his real boyfriend?"

"Ethan, shut the fuck up or I'll call mom. Remy…" India turned to play with his hair.

Yeah, it was very calming.

"He sounds like a very sweet kid. Trust me, there's no way you fucked anything up. You'll be okay. You'll get to hang out with him again, and it will be okay. Now eat your ice cream, you have the best ice cream, and then we're going back to your dorm and we're going to watch Priscilla. Or Hedwig. Whatever suits your fancy, okay?"

"...okay."

"Now, let's talk more about your mom and why it isn't okay that she treats you like that."

And for a bit, everything just seemed alright. Well, almost.

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of my Heart Chapter 11

The Royal Romance Reality Show AU

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X MC

Rating: Small bit of NSFW/18+ at the end, otherwise mostly PG/PG-13

Author’s Note: Last chapter was mostly Liam, this one is mostly Drake.

Tag List: @lazychic28, @choices-fanatic, @simplyaiden-blog, @butindeed, @bobasheebaby, @queencatherynerhys, @theroyalweisme, @boneandfur, @drakelover78 @notoriouscs, @mfackenthal, @blackcatkita, @devineinterventions2, @choiceswreckedme, @drakewalkerfantasy, @andy-loves-corgis, @traeumerinwitzhelden, @confessionsofabrokegirl, @decisso, @sir-wigglesworth, @drakesfiance, @viktoriapetit, @umccall71, @hamalu

Word Count: 2410

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

Riley felt exposed walking back to the group, like what just happened with Liam was written all over her face. In theory there was no reason for anyone to know she was with Liam, but what if they did? She walked past Drake on the way, making sure to avoid his gaze. She got a pit in her stomach wondering just how much Liam and Drake told each other. Would he find out, and would he care? This suddenly mattered to Riley more than it should. Regardless of whatever her newfound feelings for Drake meant, she was here for Liam, and she really was falling for him. Riley was sure this little crush she had on Drake would pass.

"Riley!” Hana called her over to the table where an she was already seated for dinner. "I saved you a seat. How did it go?"

"How did what go? Oh..right the incident report. Everything's good. It's just a liability thing."

"That's good. It's looks like you got some sun today. Your cheeks are pretty pink."

Riley felt her cheeks with her hands. They were still flushed and warm, but it wasn't from the sun. "Oh, yeah...I forgot to re-apply sunscreen," she lied. “Anyways, did I miss anything while I was gone?”

“No...nothing interesting at least. Liam was gone most of the time handling some business calls, so some of the ladies were complaining about that,” Hana replied.

“They can’t just expect the Crown Prince to ignore all of his duties during the social season,” Riley said, feeling only slightly guilty. “Well, I’m famished. Let’s eat!” 

Liam arrived back a few minutes later and was directed by the crew to an open seat at a table at the opposite end from where Riley was sitting. Riley didn’t mind too much. She’d take her alone time with Liam over sitting next to him at a group dinner any day. 

After dinner, Kat approached Riley. “Everyone else is riding back to the stables now, but I called a car for you since we can’t really shoot any footage of you riding an ATV with a crew member. You and Drake can head back together. 

“Oh...” Riley wasn’t expecting that. “Okay, just let me know when it’s time.” She told herself it didn’t need to be awkward. Drake didn’t know what she did with Liam, nor did he know she was was having feelings for Drake. It would be fine.

The car arrived and Drake opened the door for Riley to get in and then got in himself. They sat in silence for the first few minutes for before Riley spoke up.

“You’re quiet this evening, Drake. Is everything okay?”

“Heh, I’m quiet? You should know by now I’m not one for small talk. You are the one that is usually yapping my ear off, Bennett. I should be asking you that question. Did something happen with Liam? Never mind...that’s none of my business”

She didn’t talk that much, did she? Okay, maybe she was always trying to get him to talk to her. And wait...Did he just ask her about Liam? Why would he say that?...unless he knew they had been together.

“Why would you ask about Liam? You were there with us the whole day.”

“I wasn’t with you in the cave.” Drake said with a straight face.

“How did you know--”

“Bennett, its my job to know where you are. And it is Bastien’s job to know where Liam is. And working together as a team, we cover for each other, so we kind of have to know where everyone is.”

“I see. Well nothing happened. Nothing bad anyway...er...not that anything good happened either...It was fine.”

Drake cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you are feeling okay? I’m pretty sure I caught you before your head hit the ground.”

“It’s just been a long day. Lots of sun, day drinking, a near death experience...Speaking of...I didn’t really get a chance to thank you. I really appreciate you being there for me. I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t.”

Drake looked away bashfully. “It was nothing. I was just doing my job.”

Riley wanted to tell him it meant something to her, and that it felt like he actually cared about her, but she thought better of it. “I guess then I’ll just say thank you for being so dedicated to your job...and since we are on the topic, how did you get involved with the King’s Guard? Did you just want an excuse to hang around Liam all the time?”

“Funny Bennett. I should have known your silence was too good to last,” Drake quipped.

“Hey!” Riley hit him playfully on the shoulder. “You're trying to play it cool, but I know you're going to cave in soon."

"Fine. But if I'm going to start telling you my life story, I need a drink first. Are you in?"

"Wait...are you asking me to go get a drink with you somewhere? Is that in your job description?"

"I'm only going to ask once, so if you just want to go back to the palace Bennett, that's fine with me."

"No! I want to go. I just didn't know Drake Walker was such a rebel. Aren't you afraid we are going to get in trouble?"

"Something tells me you aren't one to follow all the rules either. But like I said, we can just go back to the palace."

"No, we're going...wherever its is that we're going," Riley affirmed.

"Ok then."

Drake alerted the Driver and gave him the address. Riley was quiet the rest of the drive. She didn't want to annoy Drake too much and have him change his mind. She did notice that he seemed to be taking up a lot more space in his seat than he needed to, and maybe she had gravitated closer towards the center as well, to the point their legs were lightly brushing up against each other every so often. It was completely incidental of course. At least that is what Riley was pretending.

A few minutes later, they arrived outside a basic looking bar. The mood on the inside matched the outside. It looked similar to a typical neighborhood bar in New York. Nothing fancy, just a bar, some tables, and a pool table with a few neon bar signs. The bartender acknowledged Drake as if he knew him.

"So, do you come here often?" Riley asked. "Oh my god, that sounded like a cheesy pick-up line. How often do you frequent this establishment?"

Drake laughed. "I come here every once in a while. When I just need to get away and clear my head." He turned to the bartender. "Hey Theo, we'll take two. You do drink whiskey, right Bennett?"

"Um, sure. If my options are limited...I mean whiskey is fine."

Theo handed Riley a glass of whiskey on the rocks and she took a sip and cleared her throat. "It burns a bit, but it's not bad."

"I'll make a whiskey drinker out of you yet Bennett. This stuff is okay, no offense Theo, but they have the good stuff is back at the palace."

"So you've decided to make a habit of hanging out with me?" Riley teased.

"No!...well...Liam seems to really like you, so I figure I'll be stuck with you for a while. Might as well make the most of it."

"Sure...So you promised me you'd tell me about yourself over drinks, so go ahead."

"What do you want to know?" Drake asked.

"Well lets start with what I asked back in the car. How did you decide to join the King's Guard?"

"It's kind of a long story. Are you sure you really want to know?"

"I do," Riley encouraged.

"Might as well start at the beginning. The reason I basically grew up in the palace is because my father was in the King's guard."

"Oh, is he retired now?"

"No...he died several years ago...protecting the royal family during an assassination attempt."

“I’m so sorry Drake, I had no idea.”

“At least he died for what he believed in. I really looked up to him.”

“Is that why you joined the Guard then?”

“Actually, no. As much as I admired my father, the more I was around nobles, aside from Liam of course, the more I wanted to get away. I was in their world but never a part of it. It’s all about status and what other people have to offer you. I was always just a commoner with nothing to offer. I might have had certain uses for some of them at times, but I would never be one of them...And I guess that’s why I was kind of hard on you at first. I was conflicted because you are a noble, but you grew up as a commoner. I thought maybe you were just after Liam for his status and I wanted to protect him from you, but at the same time, I thought maybe you could have good intentions, and I felt a need to protect you from becoming one of them. It wasn’t my place, I know.”

“It’s okay, Drake. You know, we probably have more in common than you think. I didn’t grow up around nobles, but I grew up the daughter of a single mother around a bunch of spoiled rich kids. We had enough to get by, probably thanks to whatever money we were getting from Barthelemy, but I never felt like I fit in either. The only true friend I really had was my roommate Sarah. We grew up together and she remains my best friend to this day. I guess could say she is my Liam...And I also lost my mother a couple years ago.”

“Shit Bennett, here I was going on about losing my father and my sad life, and you have lost both of your parents, one of which you never even got to meet. I mean, I don’t really talk to my mother since things got hard for her and she went back to the U.S. after my dad died, but she’s still there at least. I’m so sorry.”    

“That can almost be harder sometimes...when they choose to leave. I guess we both kind of had that in a way...but did you say your mom went back to the US? Does that mean she’s from there?”

“Yes, I’m half Cordonian and half American. I guess another similarity we have.”

“See, I’m too much like you for you to hate me....but maybe I’m a bit more optimistic, and a little less sarcastic.”

“And don’t forget that you never stop talking...”

“Okay, I get it, I annoy you,” Riley laughed. ”But lets get back to your story, you wanted to get away, yet here you still are.”

“I actually did get away for awhile. I went to college in the US. I was thinking of making a life for myself there...but then there was another assassination attempt on the royal family. Liam’s brother Leo flew out and asked me to come back. Liam was...not coping well at all. And for some reason, having me back was enough to help get Liam back to being himself. I eventually just gave in and joined the King’s Guard since I was still here anyway.”

“Aww Drake...” Riley put her hand out of Drake’s on instinct. When she realized, she was about to pull back, but Drake didn’t flinch. He stared into her eyes a long moment and then looked away. 

“Yes I know, I’m totally soft inside...a complete marshmallow. Don’t tell anyone. I would like to retain my reputation as surly and unapproachable.”

Riley gave Drakes hand a soft squeeze and then let go. “I knew from the beginning there was more to you than meets the eye. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get it out of you in less than two weeks.”

“You wore me down Bennett. It usually takes a lot more than two drinks to get half that much out of me. You have a gift”

“People have always been able to open up to me. I guess that’s why I was going to grad school to become a psychotherapist.”

“That’s not fair! You were using your therapist tricks on me.”

“No tricks, I swear. It’s just how I am.”

“Whatever you say Bennett. I’m going to have to be more careful around you. On that note, we should probably get back to the palace before someone sends out a search party for you.”

~~~~

They got back to the palace, and Drake walked Riley back to her room. They went in through a side entrance and thankfully didn’t run into anyone on the way. Drake really didn’t want to get her, or himself in any trouble.

Riley opened up her door and turned back to Drake. “Thank you again Drake...for everything today. I had a good time with you tonight.”

“I actually had a good time too, even with you making me spill my secrets.”

“I know there’s more in there. I’ll get them out eventually. You know I like a challenge.”

Drake stared at Riley’s mouth as she talked. She paused and he didn’t look away. He felt an undeniable urge to kiss her. He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. 

“Bennett I...I will see you tomorrow.” He patted her on the shoulder. What was he doing? Liam was starting to fall in love with Riley. Drake had no business trying to make a move on her, and no reason to think she would want him over Liam.

“Oh..yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Drake.”

Drake walked quickly back to his room and turned in for the night. As he lay in bed trying to fall asleep, he couldn’t keep his thoughts off of Riley...Her falling into his arms, the little looks and touches they shared throughout the day, and how sexy she looked in her bathing suit. He really tried to think of anything and everything else, but he couldn’t help it. He felt his erection growing. It still seemed wrong to think about Riley this way, but he supposed masturbating to thoughts of her was nowhere near as bad as actually kissing her, or more. He started to move his hand up and down up his shaft and didn’t stop until he found release. He cleaned himself up and fell into a peaceful sleep.