#just u wait my faithful three followers

[fenningtonfox]

thukuna incoming

my friends been yapping to me ab him and i js keep thinking hes cooler and cooler GUh. i refuse to fold to toji tho fuck u

[pascaloverx]

SILENCE

Summary: You are a secret agent embarking on your first solo mission to track and gather information on a peculiar man known as Thin Man. Intriguing challenges undoubtedly await you on this daring assignment.

Author's Note: By request, I am writing my first fanfiction featuring Thin Man, set in the universe of Charlie's Angels (2000). As such, none of the characters belong to me. This fanfiction will include adult content, inappropriate language, and violence. @dipyouuinhoney this is for u.

ONE

A restaurant, surrounded by civilians. Couples attempting to rekindle the spark of a failing marriage, husbands with their mistresses, families forced to gather to celebrate some trivial achievement. All of them share the same space as you, while you wait for your target to arrive. Charlie, your elusive boss, has assigned you to a solo mission. Typically, the agency operates with three spies working together, but this task is straightforward: identify the target and investigate his routine.

The man in question has been described as peculiar—jet-black hair slicked back with plenty of gel, impeccably tailored black suits, and an extraordinary skill with weaponry. He’s become entangled with a dangerous group of criminals. Your mission is to understand this man deeply enough to identify his weakness and, in turn, use it to sway him into working for Charlie and the agency.

The man you were tasked with observing, known as Thin Man, finally arrives at the restaurant. From what you’ve gathered from a distance, he frequents this place before heading off to meet a mysterious woman. His presence is so anticipated by the staff that a table is always reserved for him—a table conveniently close to where you’re seated.

A glass of red wine rests before you, a prop to make it seem like you’re here for an ordinary dinner rather than anything suspicious. The menu in your hands serves as a façade as your eyes follow the man you’re meant to be surveilling. His piercing blue gaze locks onto you with an intensity that feels predatory, his sharp nose and pale, distinct features made even more striking as he strides confidently toward your table. Without hesitation, he pulls out the chair opposite you and sits down as though he were your invited companion.

"I’m sorry, but this seat isn’t available," you say subtly, feigning a sweetness that doesn’t truly exist in your voice, as if oblivious to the audacity of his actions.

He says nothing, his gaze fixed on you, studying you with unnerving intensity. A low "hmm" escapes his lips as he leans forward, picking up your glass of wine and downing it in almost a single gulp. Without a word, he retrieves a cigarette from his pocket, holding it delicately between his fingers, and extends it toward you as though daring you to take it.

You hesitate briefly, unsure of his intent, but decide to accept the challenge. Placing the cigarette between your lips, you watch as he smoothly produces a lighter from his pocket, igniting the tip with a deliberate flick.

"Don’t worry," he says, his tone calm and laced with quiet amusement. "The restaurant is used to me smoking here—not that you didn’t already know that. Now tell me, who hired you to follow me?" You take a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke deliberately into his face. He doesn’t flinch—on the contrary, he seems to enjoy it, the faintest trace of a smirk forming on his lips.

"Why should I tell you?" you reply, your voice steady, cool. "It seems you already have all the answers." With that, you cross your legs deliberately, adjusting your dress to reveal just enough of your thighs. If seduction is a weapon, then now is the time to wield it.

"Ah, a woman of little faith," he muses, his tone laced with superiority, almost as though toying with you. "There may yet be details I haven’t uncovered on my own. As you can see, I’m a very busy man."

"And what are your occupations?" you ask, holding his gaze as you take the cigarette and stub it out on the tablecloth, right in front of Thin Man. His sharp eyes remain fixed on you, intrigued by your deliberate defiance.

"That," he replies, his voice smooth yet dismissive, "is what you’d like to know. But since I fail to see how it could possibly concern you, I’ll keep it to myself." With a slight motion, he signals for a waiter to clean up the mess you’ve just made, his composure entirely unshaken, as if your actions were merely another part of the game.

"Then I suppose you'd prefer to enjoy your meal in peace. If you’ll excuse me," you say, rising from your seat. You pick up the handbag resting on the table and let your hair down from its restrained style, the strands cascading over your shoulders. But as you begin to move away, he grabs your arm with surprising strength, halting your departure. Though lean, his grip is firm enough to keep you in place, pulling you slightly back.

You pause, wondering what he intends, but then he surprises you. His fingers slide into your hair with an almost unsettling gentleness as he leans in, inhaling deeply. The intimate gesture sends a shiver through you, though you hide it well. He brushes your hair back fully, tugging it lightly but deliberately as he leans closer.

"Sit down," he murmurs near your ear, his voice calm but commanding. "Have a meal with me, and only leave when I say so." The scent of wine on his breath mingles with the proximity of his voice, making it harder to keep your thoughts straight.

For a moment, his closeness is disorienting. You tilt your head to the side, almost leaning onto his shoulder, before responding coolly, "I’ll sit because I’ve just remembered I haven’t eaten yet. But if you think your threatening tone will work on me, know this: I don’t even need a weapon to hurt you." You fix him with a steady gaze before pushing him back slightly and lowering yourself back into your chair. As you settle, you catch his soft murmur: "Good girl."

You refuse to let him feel so in control, so you take the initiative, signaling for the waiter and promptly placing your order. Meanwhile, the man in front of you doesn’t bother—his usual choice is evidently well-known. The waiter swiftly takes the menus away, returning moments later with a full bottle of wine, a gesture of courtesy from the house.

As the waiter prepares to serve, Thin Man makes a subtle but firm gesture with his hand, taking the bottle from the waiter in a manner that is both gentle and commanding. In the next instant, he’s pouring the wine for both of you, his eyes never leaving yours. That arrogance of his—it’s infuriating.

"Why did you speak to me?" you ask, taking a deliberate sip of wine. "I was told your style is more… ‘embrace the silence.’"

He leans back, the corners of his lips curling into a sly, almost wicked smile. "Some people can grasp simple truths with nothing more than a gesture. Words, after all, are often wasted on the wind. But for some reason, I thought you might need to hear me say it to understand—I’m not playing games with you." His remark stings, and the amusement in his expression only deepens as he notices your offense.

"So, you’re indirectly calling me a fool," you reply sharply, setting your glass down with a touch more force than intended. "I see you’re a man who knows how to charm a woman. It makes me wonder how far that enchanting personality of yours has actually gotten you." Your tone drips with impatience as you finish the rest of your wine, not bothering to hide your irritation.

"My sexual performance is what you wish to discuss?" Thin Man asks, sipping his wine, his piercing gaze locked onto yours.

"If that’s what you understood, then surely it’s what I meant," you reply with a subtle smirk. "But if the topic is too sensitive for you, we can wait for our meal in silence." You adjust yourself in your chair, letting your eyes wander briefly around the room, feigning disinterest. The silence that follows stretches—seconds, perhaps even minutes—laden with tension.

"I am efficient in everything I do, I assure you," he finally says, his tone calm yet cutting. "But to learn more, you’d have to be far more interesting than you’ve been so far." His words drip with indifference, almost insulting in their casual dismissal.

"If I seem uninteresting to you, it’s because there is absolutely zero chance I would ever be interested in you in that way," you reply, your tone sharp as you attempt to mask any trace of intrigue with feigned disinterest.

"In that case," he murmurs, his voice taking on an oddly seductive—though unsettling—tone, "perhaps we should put that to the test." The audacity of his words leaves you momentarily stunned. What is this man’s deal?

Before you can retort, he slides his chair closer to you with a precision that’s unnerving, as though the bustling restaurant around you doesn’t even exist. His long, thin hands—cool to the touch and unexpectedly firm—find their way to your thigh. Your eyes flash with defiance as you meet his gaze, waiting, daring him to make his next move. Slowly, almost experimentally, his fingers begin to trail upward, and your breath hitches, not from fear but from a calculated anticipation of what you’ll do next.

His fingers halt just shy of your inner thigh, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. "I’ve barely touched you," he murmurs, his tone low and deliberate. "And yet, you’re trembling, visibly aroused. I am so certain of your interest in me that I don’t even need to move my fingers higher to know exactly what I’d find."

He leans closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and deliberate. "The only question that remains," he continues in a voice barely above a whisper, "is what you’ll do when you’re dripping wet, with no one to make use of it." Your breath catches, his proximity leaving you momentarily at a loss.

But before you can retort, the waiter arrives with your meals, shattering the tension like a stone through glass. Thin Man withdraws gracefully, his movements as smooth and deliberate as ever. Neither of you speaks, but the charged silence between you is undeniable, your eyes locked in a prolonged exchange that promises this is far from over.

You finish the meal in silence, Thin Man’s audacious words echoing in your mind, unraveling the composure you prided yourself on. With a final sip of wine, you rise, addressing him with deliberate indifference. "I am taking my leave. I sincerely hope I do not encounter you again anytime soon."

He watches you as you make your way toward the counter to settle the bill, his expression unreadable. Ignoring his presence entirely, you stride purposefully, silently reprimanding yourself for losing focus. You’re a spy, for heaven’s sake, you think, lightly patting your cheeks as if to snap yourself back into professionalism. Yet, as you near the elevator, there’s an inexplicable pang, as if you’ve left something behind.

The elevator arrives, and just as you prepare to step inside, his voice cuts through the air behind you. "You shouldn’t leave someone dining alone." You freeze but refuse to turn, your voice clipped and firm. "For someone who finds me so uninteresting, you seem remarkably determined to follow me."

The sensation of something sharp grazing your neck makes you stiffen. Before you can react, you hear the faint snip. Your hand flies to your hair, and your stomach drops as you realize a lock of it is gone. "You bastard!" you hiss, spinning on your heels and delivering a slap with such force it splits his lip.

Thin Man doesn’t recoil. Instead, he licks the blood from the corner of his mouth, his blue eyes gleaming with something unsettling. "You’re proving to be far more intriguing than I initially thought," he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement. The sharp scent of your hair fills the space between you as he holds the cut strand to his nose, inhaling deeply before letting out a low growl. You feel the elevator doors open behind you, but you’re rooted in place by his audacious display.

"I’ll keep this as a souvenir until we meet again," he murmurs, his gaze locking onto yours as he steps backward into the closing elevator. Even as the doors seal shut, the tension lingers in the air, the memory of his wicked grin burning into your thoughts. You’re left standing there, shaken but resolved, knowing this encounter is far from over.

[miss-conner3]

so if your lamb is allergic/vunerable to cuteness as are you, now this might be dumb to say but are you perchance.......the lamb...HM?! u better answer this because now i'm curious as much as my brain can

(note i am NOT being serious asking this, i did follow u though since ur art with that lamb giving all the cult money for that halloween thing was sweet af)

Trapped (OoO)

Nah, lie... let me explain (UuU)/

I would say my lamb was the result of most of my decisions I made during my first playthrough.

Most of which were some silly things like:

To think that not all followers would return alive from a mission trip. (I stayed in the cult the first few times I sent my followers, wondering if they would return safely rather than if they would return with what I asked of them.)

Surprised that the faith of his cult dropped so much after returning from a crusade of no more than three days. (Although, in reality, I could see his state in my crusades; I just didn't notice it until afterward.)

Always yelling “¡I’m going to die!” when cornered in some crusade, only to later remember that he had a curse or some relic left that he could have used to defend himself. (At first, I did everything only with the weapons because I didn't remember the commands for the other two things, so, because of that, I always ended up dying XD)

Or lose life like crazy despite being the strongest in the place. (Easy level. Please don't judge me.)

There were also my comments and reactions to the game, which, in the end, helped me to finish defining my lamb's personality. Which was defined more or less like this:

“A little lamb who depends on people, who gets attached quickly, who suffers with the deaths of both his followers and his own, who has trouble remembering basic things, but who could easily beat the shit out of you once he remembers how to handle his own crown.

And despite all his power, he was afraid when facing The One Who Waits and his disciples. Only to be flabbergasted when he quickly defeated the two kittens and even more intimidated when he easily defeated Narinder himself.

A little lamb who is still learning, who is still looking for answers, and who is still surprised by every little mortal thing that happens in his cult.

Because for him, all of that matters.

Absolutely everything.”

So, I'd say the lamb isn't me, but it's based on me XD

I hope I explained it well (owo)

¡Thanks for asking!

[apupp3tw0-strings]

Everything is coming to a head.

Where the sky is set to tear, and the ground is primed to scorch

Four fools shall slice the wound from which a cancerous blight shall emerge

The first is the Beacon, his anger guiding the path

His name once brought awe to all, now he leads us into a sea of wrath

The second is the Eye, his vision soon to be plucked

His faith was not enough to prevent his self destruct

The third is the Voice, she who set the pieces in place

She’ll watch the world she loved so deeply be reduced to nothing but a waste

The fourth is Death himself, the broken father of three

He will be the only one quick enough to turn around and flee

The beast of the depths is mere steps from his profane feast

And with every voice he silences, another scream he will release

He will drown the world in flesh, recruit all its people to his legion

The dawn of blood is coming, a whole Dark World set to be eaten

. . .

PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPA!!!!!!!!

*Please Stand By*

Papyrus: NYEH HEH HEH! WELL WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? THIS IS QUITE THE CONFUSING MESSAGE, DEAR FRIEND. EVEN CONFUSING STILL WHY YOU'D SEND THIS TO CHICAGO. i- WAIT A SECOND WHY DO YOU HAVE A TUMBLR? Chicago: I was- I was using it as a diary and to record my occurrences and experiences s-since meeting Spamton? D-Dadaton let's me have a Metagram. Papyrus: ... OKAY FAIR. HOWEVER I BELIEVE THIS IS AN OPPURTUNE TIME FOR ANOTHER INTERNET SAFETY LESSON! Spamton: H-HEY HEY HEY! R U [Guys ] & [Guys] D0ING A [[Internet Safety PSA]] W./0UT [Your Old Pal]!? Papyrus: JUST BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN THE PRIMARY REASON I'VE HAD TO TEACH MY CHILDREN ABOUT INTERNET SAFETY AND SCAM PREVENTION, THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE THE SOLE CAUSE. Spamton: STILL APROX. [99.9999999999999999] PRECENT 0F TEH {[Well look at the time!]] Papyrus: ANYWAYS! CHICAGO, ON A SOCIAL MEDIA SITE LIKE METAGRAM, YOU WOULDN'T RESPOND TO OMINOUS MESSAGES THERE, WOULD YOU? Chicago: W-well on Metagram I don't respond to really any messages. (It's all either scammers or people being weird...) Papyrus: PRECISELY! THEN WHY SHOULD YOU RESPOND TO WEIRD TUMBLR ASKS? Chicago: I... shouldn't? Papyrus: CORRECT! WHEN IT COMES TO TUMBLR AND IT'S ASK FUNCTION THOUGH, PEOPLE CAN ASK ANONYMOUSLY, MEANING YOU CAN'T SEE WHO THEY ARE. THIS FEATURE CAN BE HELPFUL FOR THOSE WITH ANXIETY WHO MAY NOT WANT TO REVEAL THEIR IDENTITIES, BUT IT CAN ALSO BE USED BY PEOPLE TO SEND HATE OR STRANGE MESSAGES LIKE THIS ONE! REMEMBER THAT ANON MODE IS A PRIVELEGE AND IT IS UP TO YOUR FOLLOWERS TO USE IT RESPONSIBLY! Chicago: O-okay. So that means I should turn anon mode off? Papyrus: I'LL LEAVE THAT UP TO YOU, HOWEVER I'D ADVISE IT IF YOU DON'T WANT MORE WEIRD MESSAGES LIKE THIS ONE. EVEN IF YOU DO GET ANOTHER MESSAGE LIKE THIS, AT LEAST WITH IT OFF, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO EASIER BLOCK THEM. Chicago: A-alright then. I think I understand that. Papyrus: SPLENDID! NOW, IF YOU WOULDN'T MIND, MIGHT I HOLD ONTO YOUR PHONE FOR A MINUTE? I SHALL RETURN IT AS SOON AS I AM DONE, BUT IT'S COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT PERHAPS I SHOULD TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR CHILDREN PRIVACY AND PROTECTION SETTINGS. Chicago: Okay. I'm gonna head to my room. Come on, Spam. Spamton: RIGHT BE H1ND U [Lil City]! Papyrus: ... (OKAY, NOW TO ACTUALLY MAKE SENSE OF THIS. LOOKS LIKE YET ANOTHER THING TO ADD TO THE PILE OF NOTES ON "THE MYSTERY"...)

[aniseandspearmint]

asdfghjkl reading a few reviews for this book I'm waiting for and like THREE of them boil down to, "Oh my gosh I LOVE this series but this one was SUPER hard to understand! It just involves SO many people and storylines and- well, I totally skipped the fourth book bc I didn't vibe with it, but that shouldn't maaaaatter!!!!"

My dudes, you SKIPPED an ENTIRE 481 page novel. In the MIDDLE of a SERIES. OF COURSE book five isn't gonna make sense!!!!

You should NEVER be able to skip entire novels in a series and just pick up the next one without missing things! If you can, that's just NOT a very deep or involved series.

Like, okay, there are some things where you can reasonably expect to be able to pick up any book in a series and follow it without too much trouble, at least enough to get SOME enjoyment out of it. Like, Goosebumps, and Nancy Drew, and the Stephanie Plum series. Books that either stand on their own well enough, or are, well, shallow enough that most of what came before just doesn't matter so much in the book you're holding.

But really GOOD books, when they're set in a series, are pieces of a whole. You NEED to read them all to understand whats going on. Those are always the BEST kind.

In this particular case, the fourth book is basically a smash cut and a rewind to some VERY IMPORTANT EVENTS that happen outside the main characters sphere of influence.

It WAS a bit hard to get into! Because if you've just left off with the third book, you are REALLY gonna hate having to smash the breaks and do a u-turn mentally, because some VERY EXCITING STUFF happened in the third book! But it's all NECESSARY INFORMATION.

And once I got into it, it was FUN going, Ooooh wait, they just mentioned a thing that happened in book one and book two! So THATS what x and y were up to then!

and *gasp* OH my GOD, if this dude is who I think he is!!!! *psycho music starts playing*

and wait is that a DRAGON?!?!?

I think people maybe balked because the protagonists of the fourth book are a pair of nine year old girls? But like, they're not exactly NORMAL nine year olds. Have some faith in the author people, EVERYTHING this author does is deliberate.

[malka-lisitsa]

My blog may be only like 5 months old, but I managed to hit a pretty big milestone for followers anyway! Wanted to say thank you to all of you who follow me and subscribe to the cult of Katherine. Even if we don't interact or write I really do appreciate your follow and support. I adore all the random anons I get, you guys make being here so much fun and Im so glad that you chose to follow me.

While I love all of you there are a few people I would like to escpecially thank for my rpc family wouldn't be the same without them!

@baby-royalty - You were my first follow on this site, we were DRAWN to each other. It has been a pleasure and a privilege helping Lizzy develop more into her own person. As far as OC Dathrine children are concerned you will always be my one and only, I love you endlessly. Obiche tem Zvezdichke.

@multi-royalty - Dat my bes fran, she a rl bad bitch. The Caroline to my Elena. Seeing you grow and improve as a writer while you explore your wide range of characters has been so heart warming to see. You have a knack for being able to pick up just about any character youre asked to and do them proficiently, which is a skill not everyone posesses! But no matter who youre writing, you will always be my favourite Caroline. xoxo

@hybrid-royalty-main - U R A SCRUB. But despite that I have to admit I am impressed with how fully you have dedicated yourself to the RPC and become such a large part of my affilliates circle. You play all of my boys and then also my tormenter and you do them all so well. Red string Stefrine is what the world DESERVED in tvd, and I am so pleased to give you the chance to write it with me <3 muwah muwah.

@sonofmikael/@bunnyblooded - I WAITED THREE WHOLE MONTHS from the moment I joined and found your blog I waited with baited breath to see if you would EVER come back. Then I was alerted and worked my way into your notifications and then BOOM. Follow back. I was so excited, and then YOU HAD A STEFAN BLOG TOO??? I mean, mostly built for a klefan AU which i mean i guess I forgive you Stefrien supremacy but really where its AT?? Our Stelena is something special. Idk how or why, but I write my favourite Stelena stuff with you, it just flows so beautifully. NOW IF ONLY YOU WOULD DO YOUR DRAFTS- jk. I love you. But really.

@faiththesinfulslayer - GIRL????? GIRL???? When we first started interacting I did NOT expect their relationship to evolve into what it has. Faith and Katherine are just one of my fave pairings because they GET each other in a way not many other's can. Its so important to them and FOR THEM you know? I adore seeing you on my dash and even tho she will deny it to the end of time Katherine and I DO notice when youre gone and we DO miss you both. We are always waiting to see our girls active and killin it on the dash <3 know that you are very loved.

A few other mentions that make my dash amazing. I love seeing all of you pop up in my notifications and my feed. All of you are amazing writers with wonderful grasps on your characters and you all have made my experience here on this blog more amazing than I could have asked for. From banter to deep dive angst and character development, writing with you guys has made my experience amazing. I am very happy to be mutuals and write with all of you.

@tobeblamed @touchedbydestiny @ladamedemartel @lordofthestrix @deceptivemorals @witch3d @townwxtch @siiinfultemptation @jeremydied @wonkrugona @tricursed @viikingwitch @seesgood @langdhon @tormentias @demone-volpe @sindicate @hcpemikaelscn @roshale @ofwaywardsunshine @salvatoraes @klaeus

And just a quick shout out to a few more special people-

The OC hall of fame, the love and devotion you have for your characters is inspiring and I am heavily invested in them on my dash.

@unbearablyindifferent @ravenskeeper @demonstigma

Katherine ESPECIALLY adores bothering Sarah and Alice. &lt;3

Thank you all again for your love and support! If you weren't mentioned don't worry! It's nothing personal, these are just the blogs that have been my faves for a large part of my 5 or so months in this RPC. I can't wait to see what the future holds for me as a writer and on this blog, but I hope you all are a part of it <;3

[loksthegreat]

PLSSSS tell me more about miss cassella & her children … also Any other asoiaf ocs u have IM SO INTRUIGED!!!

Yes sure, I’d love to tell you more about Cassie!!

So as soon as Aegon XX hears that he has another daughter he publicly denounces her as a bastard, that can’t be his, problem is little Elaena has her fathers Valyrian looks and there is really no other male Targaryen around at the time to explain that and the queen is also very much known for her loyalty and piety sooooo… Aegon stays firm and demands Cassella leave and never cross his way again (bro wanted to set her aside (read as: westerosi divorce) so bad for not giving him a child, but the high Septon didn’t get his boy math, when Cassie was standing right there with the baby). Her sworn shield Ser Arthur Swann and the men of the small council beg her not to go, but Cassie’s done with this shit, just before she leaves, she says to her shield and the hand: “I can bear to set my dignity aside for the realm, for it is just I that must suffer the shame, but for my daughter I can not. I will not allow for her to see her mother so low. Mayhaps I had not grown to allow myself such indignity, had my own mother not. My Elaena will be queen and she will never have to suffer as I have, as his whore has and as his next surely will.”. So Cassella and her daughter are supposed to go to Dragonstone, but Cassie hates the foggy, wet climate, she misses her home in Dorne, but she knows that she has no place at sunspear where her cousin (Nellaria is still mad that she didn’t get to be queen) now is the ruling princess in all but name, after Cassie’s uncle Nymor fell sick after a accident with a horse and a snake. So instead they go to Godsgrace where Lord Antoras Allyrion welcomes them. The lord is very found of feasts and banquets and showers his guests in gifts, while his mother the elderly lady Ashana who used to serve Cassellas aunt as a lady in waiting, spends lots of time praying and reading the seven pointed star with Cassie. Everything’s great until one evening at a feast that last long into the night, Cassella leaves the hall to have a breather, a young lady with a veiled face and striking green eyes approaches her. The girl curtsies but as Cassella goes to pull her back up she strikes at her with a dagger dripping with poison, the two struggle with each other, Cassella manages to push her away but the girl trips over the railing of the open corridor their in and falls down into the yard. Caseload is sure she is dead and is guilt ridden, she runs to the sept and spends all night there, but in the morning she discovers the body is gone and no one knows anything about it… after this incident Cassella leaves Dorne for good, she goes to high garden where her trusted friend Lady Elinda rules.

However it is soon after that she is ordered to return to court, to witness the wedding of Aegon XX and Lady Beliana Blackwood, who Cassie finds to be a long faced, tall woman who seldom smiles or speaks, but her younger sister Jeyne strikes Cassella’s interest, she is pretty to look at, but nervous around company and easily frightened by men. Jeyne was fostered at Cider hall from a very young age and struggles to choose between the faith of her house and the faith she was taught all her live. Cassella and Jeyne strike up a friendship of sorts, and Cassella returns to politics though unofficially. Aegon has somewhat cleaned up his act, he drinks and whores less but he has grown cruel and resentful over the few years that have passed. In the following winter, Beliana gives birth to a daughter, a girl named Aelora I. The king is unhappy but his new wife was as little care for his feelings as she has for childcare, so when three years later Beliana is found cut open with to strikes from breast to belly, hanging in the weirwood tree of the godswood of the red keep Argon isn’t all that mad (some even say he had her killed himself for supposedly cheating on him with her friend and cousin, ser Brynden the black knight or even her own brother, lord Tytos), Jeyne however is heartbroken, she can not bear to stay in this place and Cassella feels much the same, she asks Jeyne to come with her to the Reach where Lord Wylan Hightower is offering them hospitality, however Jeyne wants to raise her niece in the ways of the old gods at Raven tree hall, Cassella can’t understand why Jeyne wants to spend her live preaching a lie, when she believes in the seven, they fight but ultimately go their separate ways. Cassella and Elaena return to the Reach and stay at the Hightower where Elaena and lady Meredyth Hightower soon become best friends. Cassella dutifully comes to both of Aegons following weddings, attends the funeral of her uncle and lives to see her daughter turn sixteen, before she dies in the company of Elinda Tyrell of an illness.

That would be Cassella’s live! Hope you enjoyed and let me know if you have any more questions!!

[exoticraven]

I thought of this while playing Dead by Daylight

{here is how I thought it would go if John Seed from Farcry 5 would interact as a survivor}

-Match loads up and now it is time to play-

John: *does not know what the hell to do and does not know how he got here.*

Me and My God sister: *already running to the generator next to him to start fixing it*

John:*confusition*

Me: I wonder who the killer is?

My Godsister: Dude why aint you working on the gen with us?

John: uh

Me: awe maybe he is a baby survivor *Fucks the gen up* SHit!!

Godsister: Damn it, Raven. *still working on the gen to get it done*

Me: SOrry! Dude help us with the gen please and thank you

John: *comes over and figures out how to start working on the gen*

Me: ANNNNNNDDDD it done *gen lights up* Huh that was too easy why is there a guy in a mich- It's Michael Myers run!!!!

*my god sister and I ran away leaving John there thinking he would just follow but gets down and put on a hook cause his a baby Survivor*

Me: *Runs back to him and takes him off the hook* It's otay I gotcha yea.

*taking John's hand and running off to a corner to heal him*

Me: *doing magic hands* Got to love Botany Knowledge {A perk} *is fast at healing cause of Botany Knowledge*

John: Thank you. you remind me of faith a little bit

Me: I just going to take that as a compliment

John: How else would u have taken it?

Me: *shrugs* ooooo a crow wait what were we doing oh right gens. let go we need these gen down off to never land! *grabs his hand and finds another gen and starts working on it*

John: umm where are we?

Me: oh you don't know this map is Crotus Prenn Asylum. *hit walkie talkie* You otay Queen? {figure this is how the player be able to talk to one another}

God sister: Yuppers just working on a Gen on the top floor of the building.

Me: *hit walkie talkie* Otay That good to hear. Annnd we're done with aaaaaa- *Michael Myers grabs me off the gen* You slimey ittle bitch *said as he carries me to a hook*

*Me get put on hook and scream because of the pain*

Me: This is why you're mother has no nipples! and why she left you

Myers: *looks at me like hurtfully and smacks me with his knife*

Me: Otay I kinda deserved that

*Myers walks away to kick the gen as Joh n sneaks over to the hook to try to get me down but was not fast enough because My god sister got me down. All three of us run to a corner to heal*

Me: How many Gens are left?

Queen: Just one

Me: looks like the other survivor is on the hook I'll go get them you take *points to John* I believe John Seed from FarCry 5?

John: That is my name

Queen: Wonder when they added him oh well you do your thang and we go get that---

*Me running off to the hooked survivor* I am commming!!!

Queen: alright than *they go off to a gen*

*I get the other survivor off the hook and heals them*

John: SO what's the point of all this?

Queen: We as a survivor must complete 5 generators to open the exit gates. We have a killer chasing us down to stop us from completing the gens. The killer's goal is to sacrifice us to this entity using hooks. 9 times out of ten we all get sacrifices and we have to wait for another match. It all depends on the killer really. WE have mean killers who just kills us and the nice ones that farm for blood points

John: Oh so they worship this Entity?

Queen: Some do and some don't.

John: What happens if we escape do we leave this realm

Queen: Oh no we wait for another match or game ever you want to call it to start up and repeat the cycle all over again.

John: Sounds insane

Queen: Oh it is

Me: *pressing the button of the walkie-talkie* I've been looping Myers for a good few minutes now ohh I felt the wind on that *vaults a window onto the ground and spirits off thanks to balance landing* I think I lost him

Queen: Good come hop on this gen with us

ME: Otay *runs over and starts helping*

*generator gets fully repaired as the other survivor gets knocked down. again for the second time*

Me: Queen go get the door open I'll get the hooked survivor *runs off to the hook*

John: Does she do that a lot?

Queen: She is not good at much but one good thing she is good at is being a healer. She always wants to help someone in need. *opening the door*

John: So

Queen: She put everyone else first before she puts herself firsts. *Get the door open and waits for Me*

John: what are we waiting for?

Queen: I never leave without Raven unless she gets sacrificed then it is just a bittersweet victory she is my little sister not by blood but still my little sister

*The other survivor and I come running to the door. I take a protection hit.

Me: Just run !!!

-all of us get out the exit gate even John-

{if you want more let me know}

[hexalene]

The person I’m reblogging this from is an excellent blogger u should follow if you’re into BNHA, and I kinda wanted to jump off some of what they’re meta-ing with a literary reference/comparison I’ve been marinating on for a while.

To address the immediate relevancy to makeste’s post tho - I think they're dead on that OFA and AFO are more intimately tied than what’s initially been pitched by the characters in the story.

I personally think they ARE the same quirk, just forced to exist in two bodies. Like half of AFO went with OFA when it was accidentally forced into Yoichi with the stockpiling quirk. Yoichi was genuinely quirkless, no hidden quirk inside him all along (which would explain how he was able to survive having multiple quirks as well).

So to destroy AFO, they’re going to have to find some way to scatter the power of OFA across the whole cast as a last minute power up (look jake, it’s a shonen) or Deku is going to die to destroy it, becoming the ultimate number one hero to save them all.

Okay fine that’s too depressing for this story, what I REALLY think will happen is that Deku will destroy OFA and become quirkless again, but be recognized as the number one ultimate hero for his sacrifice. Better yet, the LAST number one hero because they better abolish the popularity contest BS before the series ends.

Then he’ll go on to keep being a hero because those muscles were 100% natural home grown grass-fed beef that didn’t need no OFA and he’s ALREADY started been using Hatsume’s gadgets so WHAT’S STOPPING HIM

Ahem

But what I REALLY want to ramble about is the fact that the quirk is named “One For All” and “All For One”

BNHA has shown some surprising depth of knowledge and research into what’s considered traditionally “Western” history. I wouldn’t be surprised if Horikoshi was aware of the origins of the phrase “one for all and all for all.”

Not to get all literary tinfoil hat on you but I feel like the themes of the story, at least as far as the origin of OFA/AFO as well as the society of BNHA generally, fits pretty well within the circumstances The Rape of Lucretia. The poem notable for being is the origin of the phrase “one for all and all for one” before Dumas popularized it in The Three Musketeers.

Honestly based on my memory the whole poem, The Rape of Lucretia is very All For One-core. It’s his aesthetic. He’s a bit of a Tarquin. At risk of extreme tinfoil hatting, I am going to try to elaborate:

Most abbreviated summary ever, I will not lie, it has been MORE than a decade since I read this thing:

Tarquin is a powerful roman military dude with all the honor and underage boys that comes with the job. He’s got a buddy, named Lucretia’s Husband, who does nothing but sing his wife’ praises night and day.

Unbeknownst to Lucretia’s Husband, Tarquin’s other job is hating women and he refuses to believe that she wouldn’t cheat and be a scheming, conniving feeeeeemale, so he makes his way over to her place and sets about with the alpha male dude bro SEDUCTION TECHNIQUES

It fails, she’s faithful AND a courteous host (the WHORE) so instead of facing his inner demons, Tarquin goes to her room and tries to seduce her one more time. She refuses him.

Tarquin threatens her, saying if she doesn’t consent to sex, he will kill a slave and make it look like they were having sex and tell Lucretia’s Husband about it so that he thinks she cheated.

She refuses. He threatens to kill her. She refuses. Failing to get any “““““plausible deniability””””” he goes through with the act he planned to commit all along and leaves.

Lucretia waits until Lucretia’s Husband returns, makes him gather all his soldiers, then tells them the awful truth of what happened to her.

They’re enraged, and then horrified, for Lucretia then takes her own life as she can no longer live as Lucretia’s Husband’s wife now that she is impure, ensuring these muscleheads Get The Picture and don’t talk their way out of getting vengeance for her in a useless “he-said-she-said” debate.

With the message thoroughly received, the men take her body and parade her through Rome or wherever they are and rile up a massive crowd to strip Tarquin of all his glory and kill him or something. Idk it’s been a while, but it’s all very Greek Tragedy and Sad n’ Shit.

NOW TO THE POINT:

Tarquin’s….act….is shown to not be driven by lust, instead completely driven by Lucretia’s Husband’s love for his wife and the praises he sings on her openly and proudly. Tarquin professionally hates women, so he cannot believe a woman could be loyal and pure.

(ties to: AFO’s belief that society is inherently corrupt and that noble acts of heroism are actually selfish grabs for personal honor and wealth. AFO acts as a villain and creates a world that reflects his worldview. He cannot believe that hero society can exist without fundamentally being as corrupt as he is.)

Like this man cannot stand the idea that Lucretia is a woman of genuine good character and pure while her husband is away. It has nothing to do with her as a person, but her husband’s belief, faith, and optimism in the inherent goodness of society his wife.

(At this point, AFO is Tarquin, society and the heroic forces acting against him are Lucretia’s Husband…and Yoichi is Lucretia. Hm…well this comparison just got a lot grosser, sorry for the unfortunate implications)

So Tarquin sets out to prove his worldview by corrupting Lucretia. He starts by trying to seduce her and fails. Then he tries to bargain and threaten her into consenting. This also fails. In the end, he forces himself upon her, which STILL doesn’t work, and then leaves her locked up in her home oh yeah he does that too, great guy Tarquin

(Unfortunate implications aside, I hope the line between AFO trying to convince Yoichi to join his side, to imprisoning and threatening him, to finally forcing a quirk onto his body only for that to fail in corrupting him as well is clear enough.)

So, Lucretia waits until her husband returns, makes him gather his allies, THEN passes the knowledge of Tarquin’s crime to her husband. She then kills herself.

Lucretia’s body is then picked up and carried through the streets, a symbol of rage and uprising against Tarquin, and what ultimately is used to bring his downfall.

(COME ON. Yoichi is saved from his prison, brought out by the second, only to die and pass on the -tragic backstory- quirk that is carried through the eras and becomes stronger the more people carry it on and becomes the catalyst that will defeat AFO??)

Obviously you could just point to the old tinfoil hat and be like “this kinda common tragedy stuff, asshole” but then there’s the name of the quirk, One For All and All For One.

The stanza the phrase “one for all and all for one” comes from is this one in The Rape of Lucretia:

The aim of all is but to nurse the life With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age. And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, That one for all, or all for one we gage; As life for honour in fell battle’s rage; Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost The death of all, and all together lost.

The website I pulled this from says this is intended as a description of soldiers bound nobly together for war or some shit or something but hm ME PERSONALLY I feel like I remember this describing Tarquin and men like him?

Or it’s describing the circumstances that shape men to act like he did but it’s been more than ten years and that website has cast doubts into my heart, but for the purposes of this I’m sticking to my memory and I would love it if people with a fresher memory or more education than me had thoughts on it as well.

Anyways, my recall says this stanza is referring to all the work people do to have a good life. That war destroys that life and that in conflict instead of the collective being important, with wealth and honor generated from a good life, a man like Tarquin can come in and take the honor achieved by all and make it his alone through killing and taking credit for the efforts of those in his command, granting him power he lacked before.

In other words, the honor achieved by the “all” becomes the honor of the “one” and that honor is taken ignobly to create material wealth and power for the “one”.

And when that honor is taken by the “one” and wasted dishonorably, then all of the death was for nothing as well.

AND COME ON does that not sound like AFO??

Man takes the powers of others, uses it to amass wealth and power but what for?? Crime??? Nihilism??? Villainy??? SOUNDS LIKE DISHONORABLE WASTE TO ME.

And think of the society BNHA is built on — the glory of thousands of people (heroes, yes, but also scientists, researchers, other first responders) consolidated on the shoulders of an unworthy few more interested in furthering their own gains than improving the world they’re in. It’s a society built on AFO’s ideals, a world he helped shape and is complicit in the corruption of.

….if I follow through this comparison, that puts the successors of OFA after Yoichi in the role of Lucretia’s Husband, championing her injustice and building a mob to take town Tarquin.

You could also follow through and talk about why Stain’s “murder everyone who isn’t All Might levels of purity” is worthless as the teenagers that agree with him grow up and get part time jobs instead of worrying about the logistics of serial murder, because tragedy and collective injustice are a better adhesion than impotent rage against the machine.

Hm.

That’s enough of that, here, take this tinfoil hat from me.

Do you actually believe the DFO theory? What do you think supports it? (Genuine question)

I do think Deku and AFO have a yet-to-be-revealed connection, and back in my early BnHA fandom days I did think Dad For One was a possibility. nowadays though, I'm convinced there's a different explanation for the link between them -- namely, that OFA and AFO are actually the same quirk, and Deku is effectively a horcrux of AFO. I have a post here which explains this theory more in-depth, but basically the gist of it is that OFA was never a separate quirk at all. Yoichi really was quirkless, and when AFO attempted to force a quirk on his brother, he accidentally gave him a piece of his own quirk in the process. just broke off a lil section of it, like a Kit-Kat bar.

I will say that regardless of which theory turns out to be true, there's definitely something going on between AFO and Deku. chapter 217 in particular is practically overflowing with hints that the two are linked. Katsuki sees it right from the start, and even theorizes that AFO might have something to do with the SIXQUIRKS activating. and rather than disagree, All Might simply says "I didn't want to raise that point," meaning he made the connection as well. and then they just freaking drop the entire subject never to mention it again. and Horikoshi lays this panel on us as a parting gift.

which to me is confirmation that we'll be revisiting this at some point. simply because you do not lay the symbolism on that thick without some kind of game plan for the future. this isn't merely setting up OFA and AFO as foils; this is deliberately (and ominously) drawing attention to the numerous "coincidental" similarities between their two quirks. such as the fact that OFA is the only other quirk capable of holding multiple quirks within itself. and the only other quirk capable of being passed down to another user.

not to mention there's also the as-yet-unexplained link between Deku and AFO. the fact that Yoichi can "hear" his brother, and vice-versa. back in Jakku, the pre-Danger Sense Deku somehow knew that Tomura was awake before anything had actually happened. and when Deku first activated SIXQUIRKS, AFO was somehow aware, even miles away locked up in Tartarus. and we're just supposed to pretend this is all perfectly normal and makes total sense, lol.

so yeah there is definitely some sort of reveal coming up before this all ends. but I think DFO is more likely to be a red herring at this point. Horikoshi definitely knows about the theories, and that's probably why he still hasn't revealed anything about Dekupapa. he's the Hagakure in this scenario. distract me us with speculation about her, when in reality Aoyama was the culprit all along. it's the same tactic here. convince all the fans that AFO is Deku's father, when in reality the truth is even more insidious. he's not Deku's dad -- he's Deku's quirk. and the final final boss, secretly lurking not within Tomura, but within Deku himself.

tell me that's not the perfect final showdown setup. you know it's true. you know it's coming. or at least I hope it is lol.

incidentally, during the process of typing this all up, it occurred to me that if AFO is capable of creating horcrux!quirks (which we know for a fact he is regardless of how this theory pans out, since that's essentially how TomurAFO was created)... then why not Deku as well? which immediately led me down a whole new different theory rabbit hole. that's going to have to be its own separate post, though. my mind is now going a mile a minute, holy shit. this is going to be a busy weekend.

[pagesfromthevoid]

cressida, your writing is impeccable! i’m truly in awe of False God. My favorite fic so far, i can’t wait to see where you take this beautiful story to, but wherever it is, i know it’ll be amazing. thank you for sharing your work with us 💘

False God | m.m. | 6

Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Language. Use of a sex toy. P in V sex. Mild choking kink. Smut with a plot

Author’s Note: yall what the f u c k. You are all so sweet, and supportive and there’s now FIVE HUNDRED of you! Less than a month ago, I had like six followers! You have made my fucking DAY so please enjoy this. You deserve it.

Series Masterlist | Talk to me!

A couple days had passed and she thought she was home free. No one asked what happened; no one questioned her. She was good.

Until she wasn’t, and Jimmy with three agents showed up unannounced at her door.

“Traffic cameras caught an image of you jumping out of a van and colliding with the corner store,” Jimmy pointed out, turning the computer around to show her. He had been interrogating her for an hour now, threatening to lock her away.

She huffed in frustration. “I was kidnapped by HYDRA,” she repeated for the fourth time. “You think I willingly fell out of a car and fucked up my arms?” She held her bandaged arms up, glaring.

“You keep saying that but there’s no —“

“Agent Woo, we confirmed Pelegrín’s identity,” a new agent announced as they entered the room. “One of the guys was picked up by NYPD —confirmed the whole story.”

“See!”

Jimmy frowned deeply, standing now as the heard the news. The agent leaned in and whispered now, with Jimmy glancing at her every couple seconds. The tension in the room thickened, and the anxiety began to bubble up inside her as they exchanged looks between themselves and her.

“Loxias Crown was freed from prison this week,” Jimmy explained, voice low. “You’re going to have to find somewhere else —“

“What the fuck do you mean freed?” She demanded, standing as she slammed her hands against the table. She could accept him breaking out, escaping. But she wouldn’t —couldn’t accept someone freeing the son of a bitch. “He’s a goddamn HYDRA-Nazi piece of shit. He experimented on children that he kidnapped. How the ever living fuck has he been freed?”

Jimmy flinched back from her anger, but allowed her to yell at him. “He went up for parole; the courts allowed it due to good behavior,” Jimmy’s tone was sour though; he wasn’t thrilled either. “You’ll need a new place to finish out your house arrest. It’s not safe here.”

“She can stay with me,” Matt announced, entering the apartment. She perked up at the sound of his voice, trying not to grin at his ability to play off being a oblivious blind guy; after all, he had probably heard the whole conversation. “You’ll have to excuse me, I didn’t realize she had company —I’m used to just walking in.”

“You here as her lawyer or as her boyfriend?” Jimmy asked, brow raised.

“Little of both but mostly her boyfriend.”

Jimmy seemed hesitant, but her heart was racing; she was starting to think Matt’s faith in God was doing them favors. Not only did he call himself her boyfriend but he was offering to move her in. Besides the fact that a Nazi doctor was looking for her, today was starting to be a pretty good ass day.

“Not exactly how I thought you’d ask me to move in,” she teased.

“Well, it’s not everyday your girlfriend is threatened by Nazi scientists,” he reminded her, coming closer to the table. “It’s the safest place as of right now; she’s never been seen there since she’s been on house arrest.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement, but still seemed reluctant. “You understand you’re forfeiting your 4th amendment rights, if you do this? We have to be able come and go.”

Matt nodded, reaching over to put his hand on the small of her back gently. The touch sent a shiver up her spine, and only made her heart pound harder. If he did this for her, he was trapped like her. He could come and go freely, unlike her, but he would be watched. And that made his nightly activities that much harder. How could she let him do this? However, his hand running up her back softly was the reassurance she needed. He wanted this.

“I understand; I just want to keep her safe, Agent Woo.”

The agent looked between his colleagues, who seemed to be in agreement. “Pack a couple bags. Nothing excessive, nothing that seems like you’re moving. We need you to be conspicuous. We’ll take you to the FBI offices first to ensure we’re not being followed.”

“Can we have a moment alone, while she packs?” Matt asked, flashing a polite smile at the agents. They nodded, stepping outside. He turned to her once the door was shut. “Are you okay with this? You were nervous; I didn’t mean to —“

“You called me your girlfriend and are having me move in. Of course I’m fucking nervous!” But she was grinning, her voice laceded with excitement. She pulled on his tie gently, tugging him closer. “I just think you want to babysit me yourself, though.”

“They’re doing a terrible job, honestly.”

“It’ll make your night job harder.”

“I’ll get to come home to you every night though.”

“I don’t cook very well,” she continued, pulling him closer slowly.

“I can cook,” he countered, leaning in as she ran out of tie to pull on. His voice was low, against her ear now as he spoke, “There’s other things to eat anyway.”

His breath against her ear made her feel warm, and she felt her stomach flip. There was no help but grinning at the implication he laid out. But before she could respond, he pulled away and laid his tie flat against himself once more.

“You fucking tease,” she huffed, throwing her hands up.

“Go pack and I’ll make up for it when we’re home.”

The nervous heart racing picked up again as she repeated what he said over and over in her head.

When we’re home.

Her therapist would have a fucking field day with today’s events.

*****

“The only downside —for you, anyway—is the billboard outside at night,” he explained as he nodded towards the window.

His apartment was massive; a corner place with a ridiculous amount of space. The possibilities were almost endless as she counted all the places they could find themselves. She made a mental note to make a list to check off later. But even during the day, she could understand why the sign outside was a deal breaker. Honestly, she wanted to see how bad it was at night just to understand.

She had slipped off her shoes, padding across his hardwood floors with just her socks on, as she explored. It was the first time she’d been in his apartment, after all. This was a surreal moment for her; this was her home now. At least he until they broke up or he kicked her out (though she obviously didn’t want that to happen, it was a thought to prepare for). And, if she ever needed to use her powers, she needed to know every inch. But the truth was that she wanted to see what the space told her about Matt. He learned a lot from her space, so it was her turn to learn from his.

“That’s the bedroom,” he said as she poked her head into the room. It was very plain, though she supposed that made sense if he couldn’t see it. “There’s a bathroom in there as well.”

Suddenly he was close behind, ushering her into the room with her bags in hand. Her hands trailed over his sheets, taking a moment to appreciate how they felt.

“Silk?”

“Cotton feels like sandpaper against my skin,” he explained.

“What?” She turned to him, frowning deeply. “My sheets are cotton —you never mentioned —“

“It’s fine,” he reassured her, setting the bag on the bed. “Let’s get you unpacked and settled in, then we can decide what to do for dinner.”

She nodded, though she hadn’t forgotten about his comment from earlier. That there were other things he could eat. The thought alone was enough to make her wet, but she had to control herself just a little bit. Just until she was settled in enough. After all, they had just moved in together. That was a big step in a three month relationship.

Her other bag was still in the living room so she stepped out to grab it. When she returned, Matt was taking her clothes out of the bag on the bed. She came up from behind, peering over his shoulder for a moment before she stepped to his side and set her other bag down.

“I hang most of my clothes, so you can use the drawers until I can get extra hangers,” he offered.

She nodded some, pulling her various beauty items out of the bag in front of her. “That sounds good. Can I put this stuff in the bathroom while you do that?”

He nodded, giving her a smile. It didn’t take much thought to go set up the various hair and make up tools on the counter. She didn’t necessarily need to wear make up or do her hair anymore. Between having a blind boyfriend and being on house arrest, it didn’t really matter what she looked like. She had even mentioned getting rid of a lot of it. But her therapist reminded her that sometimes it was just for her; not for anyone else.

At some point while she was in there, Matt must have gone through the rest of her things. There was a smugness on his face as he sauntered into the bathroom, standing behind her with one hand on the counter —trapping her in on one side. She looked up at him through the mirror, giving him a funny look.

“You good there, handsome?” She asked, glancing at his other hand that was behind his back.

“You never mentioned anything about liking toys,” he teased, grinning as he held up a small, rather discrete looking vibrator. She turned red almost immediately as she went to turn to face him but he rested his other hand against the counter, keeping her in place.

“Listen, I used to go on long ass missions, and I wasn’t always dating someone and even if I was, like I said they would be crazy long missions—“

But he just laughed. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he offered, kissing below her ear gently. “I don’t care why you have it, I’m just wondering when we were gonna to use it.”

Her stomach knotted at the thought of him using her vibrator on her, and mixed with his promise of earlier, her mouth practically went dry. She finally turned, looking up at him. Matt pressed closer to her, moving to tilt her chin up towards him now so he could kiss her neck. His lips lingered there, relishing in the pulse that quickened from his touch.

Without warning, Matt lifted her onto the counter and kissed her hard. There was a need behind this kiss; more so than the ones they had shared before. Like he was a man starving, desperate for her. She was just as starved, though only god knew why. They’d spent the night together less than a day ago. But her hands tangled into his hair, biting at his lip to ask for more.

He had one hand on her thigh, holding her in place, while his other reached up to hold her throat. There was no pressure, not yet, but he held her close to keep her from pulling back as their kiss got more heated. The hand on her thigh disappeared for a moment before it returned, vibrator in hand as he coaxed her thighs further open for him. Briefly, both hands left their marks to unbutton her jeans and slide them down her legs, her panties being pulled away with them.

The sudden cold counter against her skin made her gasp, and Matt took advantage of her opened mouth to kiss her again. His hand returned to her throat as his tongue traced hers. The vibrator buzzed suddenly, being pressed against her inner thigh. She gasped again, surprised by it but she wasn’t sure why. She knew he what was going to do with it.

Matt parted her legs further, pressing the toy against her core. He left it on the lowest setting at first, keeping her still as he pulled his mouth from hers and started leaving sloppy kisses down her throat. His teeth grazed right above his hand, biting down and causing her to whine out. Her hand reached for his around her throat, squeezing it. It only egged him on as he grinned against her skin, pressing the toy into her folds, wetting it with the slick that was building.

“Matt, please,” she begged, grip tightening on his hand.

The vibrator traced its way up to her clit and she jolted as he changed the speed. Her head fell back as she closed her eyes. Matt circled the toy around her clit, changing it to the highest speed now. He made a movement that caused her to arch her back, crying out as she tried to keep herself from coming too soon. But then he pulled it away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I want to see you come undone,” he ordered, voice low as he lifted her from the counter, carrying her back into the bedroom. Something about the way he said it made her heart lurch.

But she nodded frantically as he dropped her on the bed, and he started to undo his shirt and tie. Around them, reality shifted and Matt blinked a few times to adjust to seeing her in front of him. She was slipping her shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Too caught up to notice, she had hid the bandages on her arms from him as she threw her bra to the floor. Matt’s clothes soon followed and he was in the bed, pulling her on top of him.

They had been together several times over the course of three months but it was the first time she’d used her powers during it. For Matt, it was absolutely surreal, seeing her on top of him. Skin bare, scars and all. No matter how many times he touched her, and felt her skin beneath his fingers, or her pulse racing —seeing her like this was going to be forever imprinted in his dreams.

His hands trailed up her sides, reaching her ribs then up to her breasts, where her nipples peaked as he touched her. Her hips rocked, desperate for friction between her legs. She pressed her core against his hard cock, earning a hiss from Matt as his hands dropped to her hips to hold her in place. She whined again, nails running down his chest as she did. He just chuckled, enjoying how bad she wanted him.

The vibrator buzzed to life once more as he pressed it against her clit again, and she cried out.

“Matthew,” she practically screamed, and it was enough for him to finally give her what she wanted.

“Hold it there,” he ordered, taking one of her hands and pressing the toy’s handle into it.

She nodded impatiently, legs shaking as he shifted some. He lifted her, and with the vibrator only making her wetter, sunk her down onto his cock. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he reveled in how well she took him; how tight she was as he filled her whole with his cock. But he opened his eyes, wanting to see her. Needing to see what he did to her; it was a memory he needed to keep. She threw her head back, the scene around them faltering some as she finally took all of him. There was a pause; allowing her to adjust and take a deep breath.

“I want to see you cum,” he reminded her, less demanding now as he tried to catch his own breath.

She focused on keeping her image in his head, showing him what she could while also holding the toy against her clit. But both tasks became so much harder when Matt’s hips started to thrust up into her, causing her to cry out as he hit a sweet spot inside. The vibrator fell from her hand as she bounced up and down on his cock. Matt’s fingers dug into her hips as he guided her, egging her on as he let out his own throaty moan.

Her hips rocked against his movements, drawing out cries from both of them as they dove closer to the edge. Matt closed his eyes again, unable to help it as he tried to stave off his own orgasm. He wanted —needed to see her first; he couldn’t lose this chance that was so perfect.

“Fuck, Matt,” she called out throwing her head back, “I-I’m so close —“

“I know,” he breathed, picking up the pace of his thrusts as his eyes opened again, looking up at her. “Look at me,” he ordered, reaching up the grab her face. His hand wrapped around her throat again —not tight but just enough —as he made her look at him. “Cum for me beautiful.”

She clung to his hand around her throat, hips stuttering as she continued to meet his thrusts with her own movements. Her heart rate picked up, and her skin felt hot as the coil inside her began to finally tighten. With one particular thrust that hit her cervix, she cried out and fell over the edge. Her body tensed around his cock, tightening around him as she came.

Mouth open, crying out his name with his hand around her throat —Matt decided this was what heaven was. That if he were to die today, this is what he would see waiting for him. Religion was in her lips and he would pray on his knees at her altar every day. The thought alone pushed him over the edge next, and his movements became erratic as he thrusted up into her a few more times. He had to close his eyes now, unable to keep them open as he filled her entirely.

His hand fell from her throat as she collapsed against his chest. Their breathing was ragged, and sweat coated their bodies as his cock slipped out of her. There was a whimper from her, crying at the loss of him, but she was too spent to do anything. His arms wrapped around her as he lost the vision of her, the energy to hold the vision too much for her. But it was okay; he didn’t need to see anymore. Not when he could feel her still, picture it in his head.

She sighed, taking a moment but finally rolled off of him to her side of the bed. He ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath before he laid on his side and faced her.

“You’re beautiful when you’re getting fucked, you know,” he grinned, reaching over to push her hair from her face. “Thank you for showing me.”

She glanced at him, grinning back. Her heart still lurched but both her and Matt assumed it was still from her orgasm. Her arms moved to cover her face, unable to help it as she blushed. Matt reached to move them, only to realize her arms were still wrapped in bandages.

“Of course,” She whispered, looking at him now as she moved to lay on her side. He returned his attention to her voice, deciding not to ask about her arms in the moment. Her fingers interlaced with his as she brought his hand to her lips, kissing his bruised knuckles.

He smiled at the gesture, moving closer to her to pull her in his arms again. Breathing becoming even and slow, he was calming down finally as she spoke again.

Her voice was quiet, almost unsure —as if she were afraid. “I love you,” she finally admitted, resting her head against his chest. Much like how he listened to heart beat, she was doing the same.

And it was beating a mile a minute.

“I love you too.”

———

Series Masterlist

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @thebisexual-disaster @chims-kookies @ferxaniti @heybabyshae @notalxx @gothicxbarbie @dark-night-sky-99 @blacxk-moony @celestialissues @pinkybee926 @bex-tk1 @jasontoddthezombie @killthebutt4fly @softieekayy @user897sblog @cbloodmarch @ammiddlechild @venusriver @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @yikes-buddy @buckyspetal @baconlover001 @flimsysquid @reh-llik @messagesinthesky @dreamypanda @happyfern2 @svft-cas @andiforgetaboutyoulongenoughh @deafeningnightcollection-things

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hi, I absolutely adore your writing and it’s quite inspiring and making my imagination go WEEWOO!

Could I request something for YJ With Dick? So like a headcanon or one shot (which ever you prefer queen) where the reader is quite reserved, snarky and can get angry real fast. They have feelings for Rob and they are especially snarky to him to hide their feelings, but they eventually start to open up more and during the events of episode 24 (you know, the one at haly’s circus), they open up to him and they confess? And he does the same?

Flower Language

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Blood and injuries and plant death.

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/N: This is kind of my take on the Hanahaki disease, kind of. This was so much fun to write honestly, I didn't realize I like all this floral stuff so much. It also reminded me of another 'True Love's Kiss' trope I wrote for Dick Grayson as well. Also I changed the episode this was based on because I’ve already done something based on the episode with Haly’s circus @hanbedumbaf I really really really hope you enjoy it! Sorry it was so late, I finished it a month back but it was in my queue.

Adrenaline was a common feeling to you. A little too familiar. The life of a superhero puts you in peril more times than you would like but it was the only life you had known. You knew the familiar feeling of sweat forming on your skin and your heart pounding so loudly that you could hear it in every step you took.

However, when you heard the pounding, it was because there was a supervillain, usually hairy, chasing after you and determined to get your head on a stake.

Although, feeling your heart jump to your throat was becoming more familiar whenever you were around a certain someone. Robin annoyed you to no end, whenever he was around you couldn't help your face from growing warm and your lips from tingling to form a permanent smile on your face.

Having a crush was irritating, you couldn't think or even function without thinking of him. It was frankly humiliating, you were always so gung-ho about being bold and to the point and yet whenever you were around Boy Wonder, you couldn't help but bend your personality to something you felt like would appeal to him more.

Sometimes, you couldn't even stand yourself.

And so, as a pathetic act of rebellion, and maybe as a clear-cut sign that you had no idea how to handle emotions or anything similar to it, every time your heart got just a little soft, your tongue got a whole lot sharper. Probably not the best way to win a boy’s heart. But you weren't here for a romance story.

It was also a true sign that you had no idea how to flirt, thinking that borderline insulting witty banter was the way to go. Or perhaps it was a way of controlling your emotions, since being bitter and snarky was the thing that came easiest to you.

You seriously needed better tactics.

It was also your oblivious mistake thinking that Robin only saw what you wanted him to see. He was raised to be a detective, of course he was more observant than that. Papa (or let's be real, Alfred) didn't raise no fool.

You made the mistake of thinking Robin saw you as strong and independent and bold, just as the rest of them did. But he saw much more than that.

Robin was distressed by the number of crying faces around him, the kids were inconsolable which was understandable because of just how many things went wrong in the past couple of hours. To be quite frank, Robin was a couple seconds away from having a fit himself.

"Shh, little one," He heard distantly and his neck practically snapped. You were crouching in front of the few who were crying, with a small nurturing smile. It was the first time he had seen you out of uniform, usually referring to you as Antheia, named after the goddess of flowers, but this wasn't she.

"I know you're scared, my flowers, but I promise, we will find your parents." You soothed, gently wiping away their tears. They still looked up at you apprehensively and with uncertainty.

"I'll show you a magic trick." You began, grinning as the kids began to smile back at you. You pulled a seed out of your pocket and held it between closed hands, using a bit of your powers and felt it grow in your palms. When you revealed what you were holding, they collectively gasped.

A bud of a flower now rested in your hand. You smiled at their innocent eyes and held it to them, "Now I'm going to need your help for the next part. Everyone has to blow on the flower."

They nodded eagerly, crawling around you and on the count of three, everyone followed your instructions. And low and behold, the bud bloomed into a beautiful blossom right between your fingers.

One of the girls clamoured into your lap to hold the flower herself and you chuckled, wrapping your arms tightly around her, "You know what this flower means?"

They shook their heads, "It means faith, and hope. If you have faith and hope in us, then you'll get something beautiful in return."

For once, they look contemplatively and you chuckled, feeling pride at the fact that you managed to sow some wisdom in their minds. The girl that had been sitting in your lap turned in your grasp, with the flower in her hand and then reached up to tuck it behind your ear.

"For me?" She nodded happily and you smiled widely, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, petal."

Satisfied that you were able to calm them down, you gently placed the girl back on the floor before moving away from the group. Just as you were about to join the others, you ran into Robin. You didn't know he had just seen the whole thing.

Pulling the flower from behind your ear, you handed it to him, "You know in some cultures, this flower means to pick up the slack and stop looking like a confused chicken." You snapped.

Business as usual.

Robin looked back to the flower you had slipped into his hands, you had said it meant faith and hope, and you had given it to him. He looked back up to see you shuffling away from him quickly, a blush on your face. He smiled.

You were more nurturing and kinder than you let on, it was like it was programmed into your personality and yet you never showed it when you knew they were watching. That wasn't the only part of yourself that you were hesitant to show them.

And the more Robin observed you, the more he realized that you used flower language to depict a lot of your emotions. It was a silent way of letting them out, without having to tell other people what's really in your heart.

You thought you were sly about it, but nothing went under Robin's radar.

Everyone was watching a movie on the flat screen in the rec room. You hadn't realized you were so tired, the movie was boring, something that M'Gann had picked and you hadn't slept the night before, busy patrolling your city.

Your eyelids began to droop before you could even understand what was going on, your head lolling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Robin hadn't realized that he was napping through the movie until he felt a weight on his shoulder. He nearly jumped awake and glanced to his side to see you sound asleep, breathing gently. He nearly chuckled, was this what you looked like when you weren't scowling at everybody?

His heart skipped a beat, god, were you beautiful. The smell of flowers vaguely hit his nose and he noticed the red gardenia plant growing steadily in the corner of the room.

'Red Gardenias means a secret love,' Robin recalled from a book he had read, 'It's a secret way for someone to say I love you.'

He glanced back at you still sleeping peacefully, face completely relaxed and briefly wondered if your powers were taking the lead on your emotions and making gardenias grow around the cave. Or were you dreaming about something?

Something in his heart grew, here you were sleeping against his shoulder, making symbols of a secret love grow around the room. This had to be a sign of something, right?

Before he could contemplate it any further, you squirmed and then began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before they landed on the boy beside you and widened in size, skin darkening with a blush.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?" You snapped and turned on your heel to stomp out of the room without even waiting for a response from him. The others who noticed the way he was just staring at the place you were in surprise. You always do such a 180 when you're around him and conscious.

"Wow, sunshine's crabby in the morning." Wally commented from beside him. When he didn't get any response, he looked over to see Robin with a silly smile on his face.

Dick couldn't stop himself from grinning. The gardenias were still blooming.

***

"Antheia, do you think you will be able to stop the plants from growing any further?" Batman turned to face you, only to find you staring at him with a hazy, blank expression.

"Antheia?" Robin called but you didn't even flinch, your eyes were locked onto the holo-computer, seeing the thick vines that were twisting and turning. Their call was overwhelming, you could feel them grow even beneath your feet. It was like a siren was blearing through your head.

You couldn't tell what they were trying to say, it was like they were muffled. It was confused and lost, following Ivy and it was happy listening to her. And yet, it was feeling pain, the Justice League was busy pruning her as we speak. It was scared, crying out for someone to help them and you felt obligated to help. Your mind was getting heavy, throbbing with an oncoming migraine.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes snapped open and focused onto the boy in front of you. Everyone was staring at you in concern and you blinked, suddenly not able to remember what the hell was going on. You were just trying to focus on something other than the screams and cries of the plant.

"......What?" You asked a little dumbly, noticing the concern on Robin's face. The plants were still crying. You couldn't get the painful sound of their screams out of your mind. You felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

"Batman asked if you would be able to stop the plants?"

"Oh, um, no." You answered in a distracted way that made his face pinch with worry. His hands were still grasping your shoulders tightly, keeping his face in close proximity to yours. You didn't even realize, too out of it to even notice.

Robin on the other hand felt his cheeks get uncomfortably hot the more you stared at him with those innocent, beautiful eyes of yours. If Batman hadn't been breathing down his neck, he was sure he would've kissed you in the moment.

Unfortunately for him, his dad always knew how to ruin the moment. And he would continue to for the rest of his life. Until death do them part. Even after the two of you grow up and live together, the Batman would find some way to interrupt your fun.

"Robin?"

"Huh?"

"The mission."

Oh. Right.

***

"Robin!" You screamed when one of Ivy's plants wrapped around his neck and slammed him against the trees. They didn't let up curling tighter around his throat. Fear struck you as he began choking from breath and you knew you had to do something.

Suddenly murderous intent took over you and you glared at Ivy who returned it with a smug smirk of her own. Oh, how you'd rip that smirk off her face.

"Okay Ivy, you wanna play? Let's play." You ground out, slamming your hands against the vine around Robin's neck and it began disintegrating beneath your fingers. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath and you tuned out the sound of the plant crying as it died beside him.

Ivy heard it just as loudly as you had, she screamed and more plants lunged towards the both of you.

"Go help the others! I'm about to snap this twig." You spat at Robin, using your powers to kill the roots as it reached you. It was working slowly, your powers weak to the pain of the plants around you. Even as every cell of your body told you not to, you clenched your fingers into fists and watched as the creeper feel to the marsh, dead.

You engaged in battle with Ivy. Plants were screaming for mercy all around you but you couldn't stop for even a second. Life around you was trembling but you had to keep fighting the villain in front of you because if you hesitated for even a second, many more would die.

Thorns scratched your skin, drawing blood and curled around Ivy, sinking barbs into her skin.

"Face it girlie! You're never going to overpower me!"

"Oh, I'm not trying to overpower you, just distract you long enough for Robin to get rid of the control system." You replied, just as smug as she had been at the start of the fight. Now you got to see her face melt into one of panic just as Robin jumped over her head and to your side with a grin identical to yours.

"Cover your ears!" He sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ducking, covering your body with his own. You were grateful for it; you weren't sure you could even keep your body upright at the moment.

Then you heard the explosion and your heart stopped. Every single fibre of your body burned red hot fire as you heard screams and cries around you. Bile was crawling up your throat and your breathing got thin. They were sobbing a heart-broken wail and your eyes misted at the mere sound.

Without realizing it, you were gripping onto Robin's hand, brows furrowed together. The sound of the explosion cleared, the Injustice League was captured and he pulled you up to stand with the others.

It was silent for a moment. You had won.

And then the consequences of your actions hit you.

Everyone's necks snapped towards you when you let out a heart-wrenching sob. Robin, who was standing right next to you caught you just in time before your body hit the ground. Pain exploded in your chest as you began wailing against him.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" He panicked but you didn't respond, crying into his chest as you gripped his cape in an iron fist. Everything hurt and all you could feel was sorrow and guilt.

The other heroes crowded around you but your eyes were screwed shut, tears making your eyes sting. Robin held onto you tightly, pulling your body against his as you continued to cry.

"What's happening?" Artemis murmured, looking around to see the environment change before her eyes. Everyone else followed her lead to see how leaves began rotting, then the trees. The smell was pungent. Thorns and weeds were crawling up the dying trees, pulling them into the swamp.

"(Y/N) please, what's wrong?" Robin whispered in your ear but you couldn't hear him. The sounds of plants screaming and wailing was echoing through your mind. How they begged you to save them. How they begged you to stop.

And then it got hard to breathe, your chest constricted and you were wheezing. Robin had to watch in horror when petals and blood poured from your mouth. You were choking, throwing up and sobbing in his arms, and he was unable to do anything to help you.

"Flash get her to the Batcave." Batman said gruffly, he was shocked and worried for you but didn't say anything, not wanting to scare his son more, "Sending you the coordinates now."

"Alfred prepare the med-bay."

Dick watched with a sinking heart as he handed you into Flash's arms. It took him a few seconds for his mind to stop whirring, he was still kneeling in the swampy marsh when the team huddled around him.

"It's gonna be okay." Wally murmured, wrapping an arm around his shaking body.

"We just have to hope for the best."

***

When the others had gotten back to the Cave, you had just been moved there, after being looked over by Alfred. He joined you in the med-bay, wanting to keep an eye on you. But as of yet, you still had to wake up.

Dick wasn't supposed to be listening to the adult’s conversation, but he couldn't help himself, he had to know if you were going to be okay.

"The situation is undeterminable, sir. But as of now, the flowers that are clogging her respiratory system keep growing. If we don't find a cure for this, it's inevitable that she will suffocate and pass."

His heart stopped. Die? You couldn't die, not when he still had so many things to tell you. For so long, he hadn't told you of his feelings, wanting to keep the relationship between the two of you professional. But now more than anything, he wished he had said something.

There were so many things he didn't get to do with you yet. You had yet to give him a bouquet on your first date. He wanted to lay in bed with you, smelling fresh flowers as you told him what different plants symbolized. He had yet to see moments where you can't control your powers and make plants grow around the cave.

He hadn't even given you a flower yet.

"Rob listen, I did some research on this 'disease'." Wally said, falling into step with him, "It's called the Hanahaki disease."

"That's fiction Wal—"

"But that's the best we've got right now." Came his curt reply and Dick's heart clenched.

"Hanahaki disease is a fictional sickness that only occurs when someone is suffering from unrequited love. The victim will cough up flower petals that symbolize their love. This disease is only cured when the victim's feelings are romantically returned." Wally read off his phone before turning to Dick with a smile.

He raised a brow, "What?"

"You have to kiss (Y/N)!"

"What!?"

"Yep! You have to return her unrequired love!"

"Wally that's ridiculous, kissing someone doesn't cute anything."

"Well, it's the only thing we have. And for (Y/N), we need to try anything." He said, pushing him towards the med-bay. His voice was tight and tense, like he was holding onto his as his last hope and Dick prayed that it would work when the door of your room came into his sight.

You were asleep and if he hadn't known any better, he would've thought you were healthy. Wally closed the door behind him, leaving Dick alone with you. The only sound in was the beeping from your heart monitor and your light wheezing. It was getting harder to breathe.

Dick inched his way closer to you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered gently in your sleep. Leaning over the bed you were lying in; he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving his head in line with yours.

"God, please let this work." He whispered and your bottom lip was caught between his. It was feather-light but yet, electricity was buzzing through his veins and fireworks went off in his mind.

For a minute, nothing happened and his heart clenched in his chest before he kissed you a little harder. This had to work because they didn't have any other lead. Dick felt you exhale feebly against him and he almost gave up hope.

But then you took a deep breath, stealing the breath from his lungs and he pulled away quickly to see your eyelids fluttering open. The colour was returning to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling up at him. You smiled gently and he blinked away tears of relief. Thank goodness.

'His eyes are blue' You thought, staring deeply into them. They were beautiful, alluring. You didn't know why but just looking into his eyes was addicting. Was this what it felt like to be so deep in love? That even his eyes were enough to captivate you?

"I'm so glad you're awake." He muttered, cupping your cheeks firmly and planting another kiss on your lips. You giggled lightly, heart overjoyed to find the boy you had been in love with for so long had returned your feelings and you responded to the kiss eagerly, placing your palms over his hands and leaning into him.

With your regaining strength, you felt a flower materialize in your hands. The stem between your fingers brought you comfort just as the scent of the flower brought you back life.

When Dick pulled away, you delicately slipped it into his hands and he turned his attention to it, blue eyes softening when he recognized this particular flower in his hands.

"It's an Aster." You whispered quietly, lips brushing against his and he chuckled. It was the only flower you thought of when he came to your mind, "Get it?"

Dick turned his eyes away from the blossom and looked at you again. Your heart jumped, noticing just how much love he held in them. Eyes you could swim in, overflowing with love for you. Suddenly you were overwhelmed, feeling adoration and attraction. You needed to be closer to him, even though he was pressed against you.

Your fingers curled into his collar and pulled him closer to you, slanting your lips over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Dick gasped against your lips, startled for no longer than a second before sinking against you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved gently against his, the blushing flower trapped between both your bodies. The smell of fresh flowers clouded Dick's mind with everything that was you. Your hair, your smile, your lips. If you kept kissing him like that, he was certain he'd forget his own name.

And then you pulled away and Dick noted that you were as beautiful as a fresh flower. Your skin was glowing with life and your tired eyes were twinkling. You smiled sleepily at him, eyes closing shut and he lowered you back to the bed. Immediately, you slipped back into slumber, exhausted from the day's events.

He watched for a couple seconds, making sure you were able to breathe without any problems before realizing he should tell the others that you were okay.

He slipped out of the room quietly, stealing a final glance of you sleeping peacefully in the bed and a huge smile grew on his face, "She's awake."

It was only then he noticed just how colourful the room had gotten in the few minutes he was with you.

The walls were covered with vines and roses of different colours, camelias and carnations of different shades. It littered the room, not leaving a single inch of the wall untouched and scattered petals all over the floor like confetti.

Different creepers hung from the ceiling, dusting all the superheroes with sparkling pollen and colourful petals. Not to mention there were stems crawling up the Justice League members, flowers hugging their ankles lovingly.

Batman looked a lot less intimidating with petals in his cape and a rose stuck behind his ear. Robin blushed at the sight of everyone giving him knowing smiles.

"We noticed."

Aster: This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART TWO

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo.

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

AN: I am so fuckin soft for college Kook you wouldn’t even belieeeeeve

Within days of their ‘truce’, Jungkook realises what a huge dickhead he truly is for not remembering Y/N’s name.

She shares his timetable almost entirely.

“I’m the worst.” He bemoans after a particularly stressful lecture on American poetry, “You weren’t kidding when you said you were in all my classes.”

“Almost all your classes.” She laughs a little at the look on his face and shrugs, “I did tell you.”

“It makes perfect sense now why you hate me.”

Y/N nudges him playfully and shakes her head, “I don’t hate you.” “Yes you do.”  He sniffles dramatically, “And you should.  I’m an asshole.”

She pulls a face, “Now what am I meant to do here?  Tell you that you’re not an asshole?  That would be lying.” Jungkook reaches for his heart theatrically and frowns.

“I deserve that.”

She scoffs playfully, “Shut up, Jungkook.”

It’s been exactly four days since Jungkook and Y/N began to hatch their plan to try and get their respective soulmates to fall in love with them.

And though Y/N’s original idea was to host some kind of movie night at her apartment Jungkook has been slowly persuading her into throwing a full blown party.  Park Jimin is an absolute animal, Jungkook promises her (that’s a huge stretch, but what college student doesn’t like alcohol and loud music?) and throwing a party is a surefire way to get him to agree to coming. 

But Y/N isn’t so easily swayed.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” Jungkook tells her confidently, “I’m going to make sure that you and Jimin get together, and then when you have beautiful babies together you’ll be thanking me.  And we’ll forget all about the incredibly unfortunate way we met each other.” Y/N’s smile is soft, but Jungkook sees it.

“I know you will,” She says, “I have faith in your matchmaking abilities, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Which reminds me….Did you think about what I said, Y/N?”  

Jungkook has to admit - he really likes having her around.  Try as he might at first to have seen the worst in her, he has to admit Y/N’s not half bad. 

“About the party?” 

He winks, “Bingo!” 

“It’s a bad idea.”

“Oh my god-” 

“No, because I’m such a wallflower,” She insists, shaking her head firmly, “Jimin will just think I’m boring.”

“I’ll help you come out of your shell.  I’ve told you that already.  It will be like a life lesson for you - a chance to shine in the spotlight.” 

“I don’t shine,” Y/N is whining now, “It’s stupid to even try.”

“No it’s not,” Jungkook insists, “Everybody shines.  In their  own way.  Everybody.” He feels kind of awful for her. 

How can she even think that way about herself?

“You don’t - it’s not.  C’mon Jungkook I can’t-”

“What about the night we met?”  Jungkook interrupts, as the two round the corner of Jungkook’s street, “You were partying then, weren’t you?  You were shining then?” She flushes, “That’s different.”

“How?” She shuts her eyes for a moment.  Jungkook worries he might have pushed her too far.  He slips his bottom lip between his teeth and just as he opens his mouth to apologise she sighs heavily.

“It’s stupid.”

He brushes a hand over her shoulder, “It’s not.”

Her eyes open and he’s taken aback by the softness there. 

He wants to reach out and maybe pat her cheek but he decides against it.  Fuckboy or not, Jungkook is not the kind of guy to do that.  Is he?  No.  He isn’t.

Besides.  Soomi.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’ll throw the damn party.  But you’re helping me with everything, okay?”

Jungkook feels something like electricity shoot up his ass.  (He won’t ever tell anyone else he thought that.) 

“Yes!  This is going to be perfect Y/N I swear.  Jimin will love it.  So will you,” He grins like he’s hit the jackpot, “It’s the last day of semester in three weeks time.  We’ll use that as a reason okay?  And we’ll plan everything together.  It will be amazing.” Y/N’s eyes dart across Jungkook’s face nervously. 

She seems to be looking for something - what he’s not sure - but after a moment she nods.

“Fine.  Okay.  End of semester,”  Her lips fall into a small smile, “Do you think this will work?”

They stop at the entrance of Jungkook’s building.

“It’s perfect Y/N.  I swear.  Just perfect.”

When her smile widens Jungkook thinks he’s never seen her look better.

“I’m trusting you Jungkook.”  She narrows her eyes playfully, “Don’t fuck it up.”

He crosses his index finger across his chest and nods determinedly.

“Trust me, Y/N.  We’ll have Park Jimin eating out of your hand before you know it.”

And he really believes it, too.

//

The next day Jungkook runs into Y/N at lunchtime.  He hasn’t seen her in any of his classes today and when he texts her to tell her this, she reminds him that Friday is the only day they don’t share a timetable.

He has to admit he’s kind of bummed.  

So when he finds himself wandering into the campus garden with Hoseok trailing less than enthusiastically behind him, his eyes zero in on her immediately.

She’s eating some kind of burrito - probably extra spicy as she’s told him that’s the only way to eat Mexican food - and reading a book.  Of course she’s reading a book.

Nerd.

“Hey Hobi let’s go sit over there.”  He points her out to his friend and Hoseok raises a brow.

“Who’s that?” “Y/N.”

“Y/N?”  His brow raises even higher if possible, “Y/N as in the girl you slept with who’s name you can’t remember and who’s roommate you are in love with?  And who you’ve promised to help set up with Park Jimin?  That Y/N.” Jungkook frowns, “Well when you say it like that…” He rolls his eyes, “Shut up.  Let’s just go.” Hoseok shrugs and follows his friend - what good will it do him to argue anyway? - and when Jungkook reaches his destination he clears his throat noisily.  Y/N looks up and Jungkook notices she’s wearing a pair of thick-framed glasses.  He has to admit… She looks kind of adorable in them.

The moment recognition dawns on her face, Y/N’s lips lift.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s smile widens when she grins up at him.

“Hi.”  She shifts slightly, “What are you uh - doing here?” “Stalking you obviously,” Jungkook takes a seat beside her on the blanket she’s set up to eat on, and gestures for Hoseok to do the same, “This is my friend Hoseok.  The one I said dances with your boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose and flushes, “Jungkook!  He’s not my boyfriend.”  She turns to Hoseok and smiles softly, “Hi.” 

Hoseok - to his credit - doesn’t seem to mind the Jimin comment.  He smiles back at her.

“Hi Y/N.”

Jungkook unwraps the dismal lunch he’s made himself - a sweetcorn and tuna salad - and gestures to the book sitting in Y/N’s lap.

“What’s that?”

She looks down and then up, “Oh.  It’s uh - god.  It’s stupid.” Jungkook quirks a brow, “C’mon tell me.  What is it.” She hesitates for a second and then rolls her eyes, seemingly accepting her fate.

Jungkook almost wants to remind her that they’re friends - she shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of him - but he stays quiet. 

She lifts the book to show him the cover.

“It’s a book on gaining confidence.”  Her shoulders shrug, “I thought it might help.  Y’know…  With the whole…” Her eyes flit over to Hoseok briefly, “Jimin thing.”

Hoseok chuckles and it catches Jungkook off guard.

He’d almost forgotten his friend was there.

“That’s adorable,” Hoseok comments, “Man if a girl did that for me I’d be beyond flattered.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she shakes her head, “No - I mean.  I don’t know.  It’s not just for him…”

“Still.” She bites her bottom lip and shrugs, “I mean I guess.  Yeah.  He should be flattered.” Hoseok laughs again and Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion his friend might be flirting.

He doesn’t like that.

Y/N is not for Hoseok.  Not at all.

“Well she’s not reading the book for you,” Jungkook tells him, trying to control his anger, “She’s reading it for Jimin.” Hoseok raises a brow.  He takes a moment and then smiles again.

“I gathered.”

Jungkook spends the rest of the lunch break trying to stop whatever weird energy Hoseok and Y/N have going on.

There is absolutely no way in hell that Jung Hoseok thinks he can just swoop in and ruin all his plans, right?  Y/N needs to fall in love with Jimin. Park Jimin needs to be the one laughing with her and smiling at her and flirting with her.

He’s absolutely livid by the time Y/N scurries off to class.

“What the fuck was that?” Hoseok pulls a face, “What?”

“That.  That… Flirting.  What was that?”  Jungkook has barely even touched his lunch (and it’s got nothing to do with the absolute miserable state of it, he swears.) 

Hoseok seems confused for only a moment later.  Then his face opens up.

“Oh, right.”  He shakes his head, “I wasn’t flirting, Jungkook.” Jungkook hates the look on his friend’s face.  Like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t.

“What’s that look for Hoseok?” Hobi chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing Jungkook.  Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about that godforsaken look.

//

Jungkook wakes up the next morning (which thank god happens to be a Saturday,) to a text message from Y/N.  He’s been trying to convince her to use more emojis - but she refuses.

Secretly, he finds her texting kind of cute.

But he’ll never tell her that.

Y/N: Are you free today?

Jungkook: as a bird.  what did you have in mind?? :) 

Y/N: It’s my birthday.  Soomi is taking me out bowling.  Wanna come?

Jungkook feels his heart swim all the way up to his throat.

Soomi?  And wait what - it’s Y/N’s birthday? He’s sort of offended she only brought it up now.

Jungkook: uhhh… what?? happy fuckin birthday y/n!!! ur naughty!!! birthday ??? why didnt you tell me yesterday??? 

Y/N: You’re an English Lit student.  Use proper vocabulary and grammar please.  And I don’t know I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Jungkook: u cant change me boo… u just text like a granny.  its your birthday stupid ofc its a big deal.  mind if i invite some of my friends??

It’s a few minutes before Y/N finally replies. 

Y/N: Yeah.  Sure.  Meet us at Blue Pins in an hour?

Jungkook: c u there… birthday girl!!!!!

Y/N: Ugh.

Jungkook smiles at the way she still acts like she hates him even though he knows she doesn’t really.

It really is the start of a beautiful friendship.

//

An hour later Jungkook finds himself sat in a booth with Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon, nervously tapping his fingers against the surface of the table.

Hoseok clicks his tongue loudly and grabs his friend's hand from across the booth.  His eyes are narrowed a little.

“Will you calm down?” “Are you kidding?” Jungkook’s eyes are as wide as a pair of saucers, “I’m about to meet the woman I’m going to marry.”

Hoseok scoffs at that and Taehyung scrolls through his phone, bored as always.  

After a moment, Taehyung clears his throat, “He said yes.” 

Jungkook feels like his heart has just fallen out of his asshole.

“What?”

“Jimin said yes,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, almost as if he’s annoyed at this spectacular outcome, “He’ll come to Y/N���s party at the end of the semester..”

“Oh fuck YES!” Jungkook fist pumps the air in joy as Hoseok chuckles in delight.

“You’re overreacting,” Namjoon tells his friend seriously, “Jimin coming does not equal Jimin falling in love with Y/N.”

“It gets me one step closer though,” Jungkook feels lighter already, “And one step closer to that means one step closer to Soomi falling in love with me.”

Namjoon snorts out a laugh, “Stop it.”

“What?” Jungkook takes a swig from the cappuccino he insisted on ordering as soon as they arrived, “It’s true.”

“You’re not seriously thinking you’re in love with this girl Jungkook?”  Hoseok’s eyes dance with mirth, “I know you man.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok raises a dubious brow, “You’re the ultimate fuckboy.”

“I am not.”

“Yes.  You are.”  Taehyung tacks on helpfully, “Notoriously so, actually.”

“Shut up.” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it but he knows his friends are kind of right.  Sue him - he’s young and handsome and he’s in college.  Everybody fucks around in college.

“And anyway I don’t actively pursue girls unless I have the intention of taking it somewhere.”  Jungkook crosses his arms, “A fuckboy I may be, but a dickhead I am not.”

“Says the guy who forgot Y/N’s name after a vigorous night of lovemaking.”  Namjoon grins like the cat who got the cream and Jungkook wants to smack him.

“You can thank your dear friend Kim Taehyung for that.”  Jungkook replies sharply, narrowing his eyes at his so-called childhood best friend.

Taehyung gasps like he can’t believe what Jungkook’s just said.

“Seven tequilas on an empty stomach is never a good idea Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You kept insisting.”

Taehyung answers with a flippant wave of his hand, eyes finally moving away from his phone, “Whatever.  You’re an adult, right?  You could’ve said no.”

“Not when free alcohol is involved.” “Anyway Kookie, the point is you can’t be in love.”  Hoseok leans back like he’s just discovered the meaning to life.  Always so smug.

Jungkook can’t help but find it a little annoying.

“And how, oh wise one, are you coming to this conclusion?” Jungkook’s tone is dripping with sarcasm.  He raises a brow at his friend and gives him the most pointed look he can manage.

It’s still Hoseok and Jungkook has to admit he respects his opinion the most.

“Because you’re you.  And you barely know this girl.”  Hoseok rolls his eyes, “That’s how.”

“I find that offensive,” Jungkook retorts, “People are allowed to change and grow.  Now I’ve met Soomi I’m different.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “There’s no point, Hobi.  We all tried, believe me.  But he’s decided that he’s in love with her.  Just get on board with it.”

Jungkook sends Hoseok a toothy grin once he swallows the last of the cappuccino and nods emphatically.

He knows what his friends think of him.

That he’s slutty and careless.  That commitment scares the shit out of him.  That he’s incapable of monogamy.  A combination of all of the above.

But Jungkook knows the truth.  He didn’t want a girlfriend before this because he hadn’t met someone that made sense to him.

And what’s the point of being with someone unless you’re all in?

“Anyway when you’re guests at our wedding it’ll all make sense,” Jungkook pushes his empty coffee cup to the side, “We’re meant to be.”

Taehyung laughs at this - despite himself - and Hoseok and Namjoon chuckle too.

“Jungkook?” The sound of someone calling his name causes him to turn quickly, eyes widening when he sees who it is.  Y/N.  She’s smiling at him of course - but that’s not what causes Jungkook to almost go into cardiac arrest.

No.  Of course not.

It’s the beautiful angel standing beside Y/N that causes him to almost forget how to breathe.

“Hi,” He squeezes out despite himself, eyes riveted to Soomi’s beautiful face, “Hi.”

Soomi smiles and Jungkook is immediately breathless.

“Jungkook right?  Y/N’s… Friend.”  The suggestive tone annoys Jungkook - he can’t have Soomi thinking he belongs to anyone else but her - and he nods.

“Yeah.” “But just a friend now,” Y/N pipes up helpfully, “We… Uh… Worked through our differences.  And now we’re friends.  Just friends.  Totally platonic.” Jungkook thinks she’s kind of overkilling the whole thing but he doesn’t say anything.  Instead he smiles at Soomi and watches as her face puts two and two together.

Yes.  Yes.

Jungkook wants her - no he needs her to know that he’s single.

Really single.

Totally single and available and hers.

Namjoon clears his throat somewhere from Jungkook’s left.  He turns to his friends and nods quickly.

“Right.  Yes of course.  My friends - these are my friends.  Taehyung and Namjoon, and Y/N you’ve already met Hoseok.” The two share a small wave.  Jungkook ignores the stab of annoyance that sends to his gut.

“Hi,” Soomi smiles in a way Jungkook is sure is almost too heavenly to be real, “I’m Soomi.” God.  He really is a goner.

//

Jungkook doesn’t want to brag, but he is pretty good at bowling.

Okay.  Who’s he kidding?

He totally wants to brag.

The moment Y/N splits them up into two teams - Soomi, Jungkook and her versus Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung - he’s determined to win.

He has to win. 

He has to show Soomi one of his many, many, many talents. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Soomi remarks as he throws his first strike, “Or is that just beginner’s luck?”

Jungkook shakes his head and shrugs, “I’d say I’m pretty good.”

Her giggle is music to his ears.

“That’s impressive.  What kind of girl doesn’t want a man who can throw a strike?”

Jungkook smirks, “That’s what I always say.” Her eyes crinkle at the side when she smiles and though it's not quite as adorable as Y/N’s - he’ll never admit this out loud - she still looks so sweet his heart constricts almost painfully in his chest.  He forgets for a moment where he is, laying on the charm thick.

“Is that how you seduce poor unsuspecting women then?  With your bowling skills?”

He winks in that way that usually works and his smirk widens, “You know it!” 

Soomi giggles again and Jungkook is surprised at how smoothly this all seems to be going - when the sound of somebody throwing a gutter grabs his attention.

His eyes lift - thinking it has to be the other team - and he furrows his brow when he sees Y/N standing at the very top of the bowling lane, staring at the full set of pins in front of her.

Holy shit.

Jungkook momentarily forgets about Soomi - his competitive nature kicked into overdrive - as he shoots up from his seat and rushes towards Y/N.

“Oh my god,” He’s right beside her in an instant, “Was that you?”

Y/N looks up at him - cheeks flushed - and nods, “Yeah.  I’m terrible at bowling.”

“So why would you choose to come here?  On your birthday?” 

Jungkook is somewhere between disbelief and pure horror.  But he has to admit, the look on her face is sort of funny.  She’s mortified.

“Soomi suggested it.  She said it might be fun,” She looks away for a moment, “For her maybe.”

The sound of someone scoring a strike blares to Jungkook’s left and when he sees Taehyung performing some kind of ridiculous victory dance, he decides enough is enough.

“No.  No.”  Jungkook sets his jaw, “I’m going to help you.”

Y/N’s brow lifts, “What?” “I’m going to help you.  You’re going to score a strike.” 

She snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t think you realise how truly terrible I am at this.”

“And I don’t think you realise how truly competitive I am,” He gestures to the balls, “Grab the lime green.  That’s the lightest.”

Y/N watches him for a moment longer.  She looks behind him and moves her hand in the general direction of Soomi.

“What about Soomi?” He flares his nostrils, “She’ll still be there after I finish helping you.”

Y/N stares at him, and when Jungkook cocks his head towards the row of balls lining the back of the bowling alley, she shrugs and follows his command.  

Jungkook takes this as a moment to teach Y/N how to shine.  

After all, what better way to fell good about yourself than being good at something you always thought you sucked at?

When Y/N comes back with the lime green ball, he grabs her free arm and positions her to stand with her back to his chest, wordlessly.

“Woah.”  Y/N breathes, “What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s mouth is right beside her ear, “Just follow me okay?  I’m helping you, I swear.”

He slides his hand down to the ball and grips her fingers carefully.

“Don’t hold too much tension in your wrist,” He tells her sternly, “You’re too tense.  You’re always too tense.  Relax.” Something strange passes between them.  Y/N takes a long, deep breath, and Jungkook tries to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Now slowly, slowly, bring the ball back,” Y/N follows Jungkook’s movements, “And… Release.”

He helps her flick it onto the lane, and they watch in suspense as the ball spins towards the pins.  There is almost a moment where everything is suspended in time - before the ball crashes with the pins and nine of them fall down.

Y/N squeals in happiness and turns around sharply, throwing her arm around Jungkook’s neck and pressing herself against him in a hug.

“Thank you Jungkook!” She is smiling so widely, his heart turns, “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome.”  Jungkook finds he’s grinning too, “You deserve it.  Happy birthday Y/N.” He pushes some hair out of her face - practical purposes of course, it was getting in her eyes - and she seems to catch her breath at the gesture. They stare at each other for a moment, before someone clears their throat from behind them and they break apart.  Soomi is standing between them, holding a bubble gum pink bowling ball.

Jungkook wonders almost flippantly if she only picked it up for it’s colour.

“It’s my turn, right?” She turns her smile on Jungkook and he melts.

God.

She’s beautiful.

“Right.”  Jungkook smiles back, “Your turn.”

When he turns to move back to their booth he notices Y/N watching their interaction carefully.  Her eyes flit away the moment she’s caught, but Jungkook knows what he saw.

Strange.

Very strange indeed.

//

Later on that evening, after they’ve all shared a pizza, and Jungkook has spent the rest of the night watching Soomi with hearts in his eyes, Hoseok clears his throat with purpose.

They’re sat in their living room - Hoseok has decided to crash over because, why not? - and playing a midnight mario kart match, when Jungkook’s friend seems to have something to say.

Jungkook pauses the game.  He turns to Hoseok.

“Yes?” There is a brief moment of silence.  Taehyung is forever scrolling through his phone, and Namjoon has long ago gone to bed.  Hoseok clicks his tongue.

“Are you sure you like Soomi?”

The question completely throws Jungkook off.

He raises a questioning brow, “What?”

“I’m just - asking.  I’m just…” Hoseok turns to Taehyung for support.  When his friend doesn’t notice, he smacks him across the shoulder, “Tae.”

“What?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Have you guys talked about this?” Taehyung seems to realise where the conversation has just come from.  He actually locks his phone and sets it to one side.

“Yeah.”  Taehyung answers honestly, “We have.” “I’ve told you guys a million times.  I know I barely know her but -” “That’s not it.”  Hoseok licks his bottom lip, “I mean it’s crazy you think you fell in love at first sight but… Stranger things have happened.” Jungkook scoffs, “So?  Why have you asked then?” Another beat.

Taehyung sighed heavily, “Because we think you like Y/N.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook snorts out a laugh because really - what else can he do?, “Why the fuck would you think that?” His friends share another look and Jungkook hates that.

He hates that they think they know him better than he knows himself.

Hoseok shakes his head, “Just a feeling.” “A feeling that’s wrong.”  Jungkook states firmly, “Dead wrong.” Taehyung nods and picks up his phone, “Fine.  Alright.  We’re wrong then.” Hoseok seems like he wants to say more but he doesn’t opting instead for something that sounds sort of like a grunt.

Jungkook watches his friends for a moment longer.

“Yeah.  So wrong.”

//

That night, when Jungkook’s just about to go to bed he receives a text message.  He opens his phone, expecting Y/N and finding, instead, an unrecognised number staring back at him.

Soomi: hiiiii jungkook :) it's soomi… y/n gave me ur number. hope u dont mind.

Jungkook pushes his friends’s ridiculous theory to the back of his head, and focuses instead on the fact that Soomi has just texted him.  His thumbs move to answer her but he pauses, moving instead to open Y/N’s chat history.

Jungkook: hey. happy bday again champ. u da bomb!! also thanks for giving soomi my number. u a real one for that, chief!!! :) :) :)

Y/N’s reply comes only a few minutes later.

Y/N: Thank you Jungkook.  I appreciate it.  And no worries… She seemed to really be into you after tonight.  So well done, yeah? :) 

Jungkook smiles at the emoji that he imagines Y/N forced herself to add, and almost misses the part when she says Soomi was into him.

Right.  Yeah.  Perfect.

He opens up Soomi’s chat and starts to write out a reply.

This is exactly what he wanted.

//

TAGLIST:  @cuddleboo @veronawrites @minluvly @severetimetravelnerd @moonchild1 @bunnyjeonjk @multicolourunicorn  @somewhereinthestarss  @jwlmnbt  @jojo-suga @zera10 @ggukkieland @thesugatoyourtae @dxlbts​ @wxndi

[flowertboyz]

hi! can i request for tbz reaction to their daughter dating another member's child? thank you!

i feel like i could probably say these are all canon,,, but not that all these couples ended up together😭 i just feel that at one point,, each one of them would’ve dated another yk

also i wrote these as little scenarios instead of bullet points!! let me know what you think🥰🥰

sangyeon:

saerom & luca (13/14)

“why am i not allowed a boyfriend? saerom’s dating luca.”

“sarang!” the 13-year-old exclaimed.

“what?” sangyeon asked, “saerom?! you’re dating luca?! as in… luca bae?! saerom, you know you’re not allowed to date until you’re 15.”

“well, i’m like… almost 15.”

“no! luca’s almost 15! oh my god, luca’s almost 15! he’s older than you, saerom!”

“dad!” saerom groaned, “please, just leave it alone.”

“were you at least gonna tell me?!”

“no!”

“why not?!”

saerom glared at her dad as you just laughed from beside him.

“oh,” he nodded, “i get it.”

saerom rolled her eyes, leaving the room.

“she’s like 5! she can’t have a boyfriend!” he exclaimed.

“13, but sure,” you chuckled.

jacob:

bailey & donghyuck (16)

“what if he’s a complete weirdo?” jacob stressed.

“it’s okay, jake, i trust bailey to make a smart decision.”

he sighed, nodding, “you’re right.”

“mum! dad!” bailey called, running in the kitchen, boyfriend in tow, “meet my boyfriend!”

“donghyuck?!” jacob exclaimed, “bailey, i thought… i thought it was gonna be someone we didn’t know?”

“why? i never said that,” bailey giggled, the two speaking in english, donghyuck’s frantic eyes flitting back and forth.

“don’t worry, donghyuck-ah, we’re just relieved it’s you,” you said.

“yeah! bailey, don’t scare us like that! you can date anyone of the boys’ sons, or daughters, i dont care!” jacob laughed.

“oh, okay! we’re going up to my room,” bailey smiled.

“door open. no loud music,” jacob said sternly.

“you just said you didnt care!”

“door open, no loud music.”

bailey rolled her eyes, “fine.”

younghoon:

juno & milo (14)

“i dont doubt that eunji is actually going to marry hyunjung, you know,” you said as the three of you sat at the dinner table, picking at your food.

“don’t say that,” younghoon whined, putting his chopsticks down, “she’s only 16.”

“yeah but they seem actually in love,” you shrugged, “i’m just saying.”

juno giggled, younghoon looking at her sternly, “you’re not allowed to do that, okay?”

“what do you mean?”

“find a boy and get married early.”

“well…”

“juno!” younghoon exclaimed.

“oh my god, who?!”

juno blushed, speaking through a mouthful of rice, “milo.”

“milo?! milo as in eric’s son?!” younghoon yelled

“yes?”

“oh my god. no he’s a baby. you’re a baby! what?!”

“they’re the same age, actually,” you hummed.

“why are you not…?! what?! this is crazy!”

“are you mad?” juno asked.

younghoon sighed, “no. i just can’t believe you’re so old. i can’t believe i’m so old!”

he took his bowl, storming to the kitchen as you rolled your eyes.

“congrats, honey.”

hyunjae:

soojin & seongcheol (8/10)

“i just think you should know, dad,” hansol said, leaning over the back of the sofa so his head was beside his dad’s, “i saw soojin holding ju seongcheol’s hand when they were walking out of school today.”

hyunjae pushed hansol’s head away before pausing, “wait. seriously?”

“soojin! come here!” hyunjae yelled.

“coming daddy!” she called, running down the stairs, “what is it?”

“soojin, are you dating seongcheol?”

“yes! he’s my boyfriend, daddy!” soojin giggled.

hansol shrugged, pointing at his little sister, primary evidence.

hyunjae smiled, “congratulations honey, i hope he treats you well.”

soojin giggled, running back upstairs.

“what?!”

“she’s 8! and it’s seongcheol, what’s he gonna do?”

juyeon:

bora & minjoon (18)

“hey dad, hey uncle q,” bora smiled, walking into the dance studio, hand-in-hand with minjoon.

“what’s this?” juyeon asked, out of breath from choreographing, motioning to their interlocked hands.

bora looked at him, confused, “we’re dating?”

“what?!”

q laughed, looking at juyeon, shocked, “how did you not know?”

“you didn’t tell me that!”

“no, of course i didn’t tell you out-right, that’s weird! but you know, me and minjoon spend a lot of time together, i thought you would’ve caught on.”

“you have to tell me these things out-right! and why would that be weird?! i wanna know!”

“okay, fine, i’ll tell you!”

“well it’s too late now,” juyeon sulked, “but you, if you do anything—“

“woah, he’s my son as well!”

“i don’t care, she’s my daughter.”

“oh my god, let’s go,” bora sighed.

kevin:

faith & eunbi (13)

“dad, can i talk to you?”

“sure,” kevin said, hopping down off the stool to follow faith into the living room, “what is it? you look worried.”

“i’m not worried,” faith shook her head, “i just… i got a girlfriend the other day.”

kevin nodded, “cool. what’s her name?”

“uhm… eunbi.”

“eunbi?! as in… ji eunbi?!”

“why is that the part you’re most shocked at?” faith laughed, falling back in relief.

“well yeah! i don’t know how to feel about that! i don’t care that you’re dating a girl,” kevin laughed, leaning over to kiss her head, “i’m proud of you, though.”

new:

kyuhyuk & howon (16/15)

“why are you ignoring me?!” howon yelled.

“ya, howon, what are you doing?” new asked.

“don’t! dad, it’s fine,” kyuhyuk said, grabbing howon and dragging him up the stairs to his bedroom.

“what is that about?” you asked.

new waited until his bedroom door was shut before creeping upstairs and hanging around outside his son’s door.

“no one knows, howon,” kyuhyuk said, “i liked it, i enjoyed it. but we can’t continue this.”

“kyu, please,” howon said, “i love you.”

new gasped, his heart dropping.

“just leave, howon. i’m sorry.”

new quickly went into his room, waiting until howon had left the house until he went to knock on kyuhyuk’s door, “kyu? can i come in?”

“what?”

“i just, wanted to see how you were.”

“you heard us didn’t you?” he asked with teary eyes.

new nodded slowly.

“i’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” new gasped, pulling kyuhyuk into his arms, “do not apologise to me okay? apologise to howon.”

“i’m just scared.”

“i know, baby, i know. i’m so proud of you.”

q:

haemi & hyunwoo (8)

“i’ll see you tomorrow, haemi,” hyunwoo smiled.

the little boy looked around, almost comically, before leaning forward and kissing the little girl.

haemi blushed, “bye, hyunwoo.”

hyunwoo waved, continuing his walk back to his house as haemi turned around and headed towards her front door.

“ji haemi what was that?!” changmin screamed, opening the door.

“huh?”

“i saw that! why are you kissing hyunwoo?!”

“he’s my boyfriend,” she muttered.

changmin squealed, “what?! when were you gonna tell me this?! when did this happen?!”

juhaknyeon:

youngjee & yoon (16/17)

“can you hear that?” haknyeon asked, getting out of bed and heading over to the door.

“hear what?” you asked.

haknyeon shook his head, crossing the hallways and knocking on youngjee’s door, “jee, can i come in?”

“u-uhm no! just a minute!”

“youngjee?!” haknyeon repeated, opening the door to see yoon stood next to youngjee’s bed, shirt on the floor, “i knew it!”

“dad!” youngjee groaned, “get out!”

“when did he get here?!”

yoon laughed nervously, pointing to the open window.

“yoon! oh my god, you’re both idiots!” youngjee rolled her eyes, shutting the door in haknyeon’s face.

“just be safe please! and yoon, use the door!”

sunwoo:

rina & soohyun (4/16)

“you alright there, rina?” sunwoo chuckled, watching as rina laced her tiny hand with soohyun’s bigger one, dragging him over to the paddling pool with her.

rina nodded, “soohyun-oppa’s my boyfriend.”

sangyeon laughed in the background while sunwoo shook his head.

“you’re too young for boys, rina-ya. and soohyun’s a lot older than you,” he said sweetly.

“i love him!” rina giggled, hugging soohyun’s leg.

soohyun just shrugged, continuing to play with rina sweetly.

“just leave her, sunwoo, it’s cute.”

“she shouldn’t be thinking about boys.”

you whacked him, “she’s not, you idiot, she’s 4 and she likes soohyun.”

“whatever.”

eric:

violet & daehyun (19/22)

“i’ll pick you up tomorrow as well, okay? where something nice, we’re going out for dinner,” daehyun said, one arm around the car seat violet was sitting in.

“okay,” she smiled, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“bye, baby,” he said, leaning over and kissing her.

she placed her hand on his jaw, deepening the kiss.

“ya! violet sohn!”

violet pulled away with a grunt, “i told you not to park so close.”

“with daehyun?! he’s so much older than you! violet, come here right now!”

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered as she got out the car.

eric frowned, “no you won’t!”

“calm down, dad,” violet groaned.

“get inside. hey daehyun! you’re an idiot!”

“love you too uncle eric! i’m telling dad you said that!”

[darkfinch]

Not to be another person in your inbox babbling about The AU but oh my GOD I cant stop thinking about hardison’s face when eliot tells them to stand down…because the rest of the team has kind of Known for a while, but hardison is so loving and optimistic and always sees the best in people and he has this pure blind faith in eliot that DOESNT EVEN COMPLETELY GO AWAY after it all goes down..but like eliot outing himself as being moreau’s this whole time, turning around, seeing hardison’s face, and THAT is the moment that completely breaks him

anyways thank you for blessing the fandom with this horribly delicious au

PLEASE come into my inbox babbling abt The Worst AU it is CONSUMING me (also we can all blame @dancingplague for this au bc they sent the og ask that ruined my life with it. criminal act. criminal)

but YEAH yeah hardison. hurts, in this one, hardison makes my heart hurt. because i think they're all, to varying degrees, waiting for the other shoe to drop? they all know there's Something, even though they don't know exactly what it is. something he's guilty about, something he's hiding, something bad that happens when he drops off the face of the earth once every couple of weeks and comes back quieter. like. they know there's Something.

(maybe something he'll find the courage to ask them for help with, someday; maybe something he'll let go of as the team grows closer together, who knows. but there's something. someone. something.)

but hardison trusts him!!! in every universe in every world hardison trusts him going into that pool, which I've always thought is a big part of why eliot brings him. hardison gives him the benefit of the doubt, hardison helps eliot squirrel some of his pay away into a secret account and doesn't ask why, hardison listens patiently to him talk around some big mysterious problem all night and doesn't pry too much, hardison has so much faith in him and sees some kind of Good in him, hardison trusts him to keep him safe—

—and then eliot walks him into the worst possible situation, against the worst possible people, and just...tells them all to stand down. and it works. because he's in charge, because he's the right hand man of the worst person they've ever gone up against, and he has been the entire fucking time, and it is just this Massive shift in perspective for him.

I don't even think hardison really processes anything that happens immediately after that? I think he's just. going over the past three years in his head, running through all the little clues there were, all the little comments eliot made—about moreau's enforcer, even, that he's a monster, that he can't be reasoned with and he follows orders without question—and tries to fit the puzzle together. can't quite line the edges up.

like that's not Eliot? eliot's his friend eliot does the secret handshake eliot would take a bullet for him eliot wanted them to have a fishing hangout. eliot sings. eliot gets grumpy when they're not eating well and then puts on an apron and makes them veggies and dip. thats eliot. so who is this person giving orders to moreau's people like he's one of them

like he's angry and he feels upset and betrayed but mostly he's just kind of heartbroken?

and hardison wears his feelings on his face, and eliot's holding it together pretty well until he glances over at him and just. there it is!! the thing he's been terrified of for three years!!!! his people are finally going to know what he really is, and they know the good parts of him, but they don't know This, and they're about to, and he's losing the only good thing he's had in his life for eight years,

oof. oof. just. hardison's the heart of the team and him looking at eliot like he's a stranger is absolutely some kind of emotional rock bottom for him here

thank u for the ask im in pain and i cant stop talking abt this au <3

[plant-flwrs]

hi love, it's me again! i just can't get enough of your writing... i'm sorry to be asking for another fic, i guess i just can't help myself. lately i've been obsessed with the fake dating thing, so i was wondering if you could write a fred x reader (basically same reader as my last request, gryffindor, same year as ron) with that? like, maybe george knows they fancy each other and makes a bet with him so they start fake datig but realise they're in love with each other? aaa thank you so much, ly

bets off // fred weasley 

masterlist!

a/n: i used the same pronouns from the last request, hope you don’t mind!! i apreciate u sm ur always so active w my fics ily <3333 this is the first thing i’ve written in a while that i’m actually proud of so i hope u guys like it :D

summary: Fred makes a bet with George that entails fake dating you for at least a month. He never expected to fall in love with you. 

(5k)

-----------

Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what Fred told himself as he looked at George’s outstretched hand, a cocky smile etching the boy’s lips. 

“Two weeks?” Fred asked, looking suspiciously at George.

“Two. Weeks.” George answered definitively, smirking at his brother. 

Fred considered this in his head. Two weeks to get you, someone who had never previously shown any romantic interest in him, to date him for at least a month. He doubted it would be hard, for he had never had any trouble getting girls to swoon for him in the past. A few winks and charming sentiments and you would be putty in his hand. With this air of confidence, he shook George’s hand.

“You idiot!” Lee, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, called from across the table, a baffled smile on his face.

George laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking at Fred like he agreed with Lee.

“What?” Fred asked, the overly confident look still littering his features.

“You can’t win with this one,” Lee explained, shaking his head, “you either piss off Ron when this goes right, you piss of Ron when this goes wrong, you come out the git for breaking a girls heart, or you come out the embarrassed git who was rejected by your kid brother’s best friend.”

“Hey,” Fred said, faking offence, “I never agreed to ask out Harry.”

George and Lee rolled their eyes, hiding smiles as they continued their homework.

Fred was not deterred by Lee’s warnings, for he had a plan to avoid all of that. He was simply going to tell you the truth.

He found you on your way to the green house, pulling you away from a Slytherin girl you were walking with.

“He just stared at her? Like he didn’t eve-” you felt an unexpected tugging, “Ah!”

You squealed, feeling your feet stumble under you for a moment as you gathered your wits again. You looked down at the hand pulling you, following it up to the face. It was Fred, which was odd, because you two were not known for pulling at each other in hallways.

“You’re going to miss Herbology!” your friend called out to you, a worried expression on her face.

“I’ll meet you there, save me a seat!” you called back to her, turning away and following Fred as he still dragged you.

“Fred? What are you doing?” you asked him, making no effort to move from his strong grip.

“Got to talk to you,” he said airily, barely looking back at you as he pulled you down an empty corridor. 

He let go of your arm, smiling down at you as you waited for him to speak. He didn’t take the hint, just looking at you.

“What did you want?” you glanced at your watch, seeing you only had a few minutes before Professor Sprout would start class.

“I have a proposition for you,” Fred drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as per usual, “what do ya say?”

You squinted your eyes at him, frowning, “I have to hear the proposition first.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, thats how propositions work.”

“I hadn’t realized,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his cool demeanor and letting some desperation seep into his voice.

“What do you want?” you repeated, slightly more annoyed.

“I may have made a bet that heavily relies on your willingness to do me a huge favor,” he said, a hopeful smile coming to his face.

“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”

“George may have implied that I was in a dry spell when it came to girls,” he said, smirking, “and obviously that’s just not true. So, he suggested a bet to see if I still had my skills-”

“Your skills?”

“-yes my skills, would you listen?”

Fred leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising as you rolled your eyes.

“Back to what I was saying,” he drew in a breath, dragging out this entire conversation, “George suggested a bet to see if I could still charm the ladies,” he wiggled his eyebrows and you quirked one of yours.

“Long story short-”

You interrupted again, “That was the short version of that story? Fred can’t we do this later, I’ve got class in,” you glanced at your watch. “two minutes.”

“No! Give me a second,” he ran a hand through his hair, putting his strong hands on your shoulders to keep you in place, “I made a bet with George that I could get you to fall in love with me in two weeks and date you for a month!”

You looked up at the boy, thinking he had gone off the end. He had to, either that or he was messing with you. Or maybe he had been slipped a potion of some sort.

“Fred,” you started, your kind tone giving Fred the impression you would agree to the plan, “you just waisted the very limited break I have between classes, successfully pulling me away from a very entertaining story about Snape, and probably making me late for Herbology.”

Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I’m serious!” 

You pulled against Fred’s grip, but he kept you in place. His face lit up, obviously coming up with what he thought would be a great plan. He released you briefly, digging his hands in his bag and moving crumpled papers around. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, brandishing it like it was a diamond. 

“This, my love, is going to get you out of Herbology this class period,” he said, unfolding the paper.

He revealed a blank piece of paper with tiny sparkles floating on the page. As he held it for a second longer, words began to form on the paper, writing something.

‘Professor Sprout,

Please excuse Y/n from Herbology this period, she came to me with a pain in her stomach and I gave her a potion to fix it. She stayed in the infirmary during the period.

-Poppy’

You had heard about these before, enchanted notes that were written in authentic handwriting and enchanted the reader to believe it, no matter what they said. Perfect for forging notes from teachers. 

You stared at the paper in awe, grabbing it from Fred’s loose grasp.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s the last one I have,” he said, feeling a bit remorseful having to give it up. He had been planning to use it to get out of Ancient Runes tomorrow. 

You folded the paper again, putting it neatly in your bag and looking back at Fred.

“Alright, let’s go,” you sighed, allowing him to lead you to the great hall, through the courtyard, and out to the Quidditch Pitch where no teachers would be. 

You sat in the stands, overlooking the empty and wet field,

“You want me to date you for two weeks?” you asked, sounding reluctant.

“No,” Fred said, sounding annoyed, “I want to fake date you for a month, but we won’t start until two weeks from now.”

You squinted, looking out at the stands on the other side of the field. You were thinking about this, finding the cons to outweigh the pros.

“What’s in it for me?” you paused, hearing Fred’s groan from beside you, “I mean, this could ruin my friendship with Ron, I get the embarrassing reputation when you fake dump me in a month, I don’t see how this is benefiting me.”

“Ron won’t care, I promise you,” Fred said acting as if this was obvious, “he lets Harry ogle Ginny all the time. And as for our fake dumping, that can be totally on your terms. I just need to win the bet with George.”

“What do you get if you win?”

Fred had hoped you weren’t going to ask that, but he was realizing you were smarter than he thought.

“Three Galleons,” he lied, looking at your skeptical face in the corner of his eye, “fine, six Galleons.”

You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.

“I’ll split it with you,” he finally gave in.

He was a little upset at having to share his future winnings, but once you agreed to the bet and squealed excitedly at the possibility of some Galleons, a smile spread on his face.

Fred began laying the groundwork the next day. He made sure to send you flirtatious smiles when George was looking, waving to you in the halls, and talking to you in the common room.

You, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the corner, the three of you poured over a chess match. Ron was successfully beating Hermione, watching her as she tried to remember the rules he had taught her over and over. 

“You can’t do that,” he said impatiently as Hermione tried to move a pawn backwards. His hand reached out and returned the piece back to where it was, and Hermione groaned.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and turning your head up towards the ceiling. 

“Hello,” Fred purred from above you, looking down at you.

You snapped your eyes open, not entirely used to Fred’s flirting yet. It took you by surprise most days, and he always managed to get you when you weren’t expecting it. You looked to Ron, gauging his reaction. His eyes stayed locked on Hermione’s frustrated face, arms crossed as he waited for her move.

“Hello,” you replied, turning your head to face Fred as he move to your side. 

He leaned against your chair, his hand supporting his weight as he wrapped it around the back of your chair. The top of his hip bumped into your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean away from him. It’s not that Fred Weasley was disgusting or anything, he certainly wasn’t, but he had a reputation. Fred wasn’t known to be faithful or respectful of the usual rules regarding relationships. He wasn’t tied down, and half the student body has seen him naked (or wanted to). You had gone through your phase of liking Fred, and that phase lasted longer than you’d like to admit. You refused to boost his ego, though, and felt determined to not let this fake dating get to your head. 

Ron was still busy with his chess match, now watching Hermione’s focused gaze turn into a nervous one as she became aware of Ron’s eyes on her. She bit her lip, tapping her fingers on the table.

Fred glanced down at you, quirking an eyebrow and nodding his head towards Ron. He was showing you that Ron wouldn’t care if you two dated, testing Ron’s limits.

Fred’s hand moved slowly from the back of your chair to your shoulder. His slender fingers pressed gently on your clothed arm, moving to brush a piece of hair from your neck. He twirled a piece of your hair in his fingers, raising an amused eyebrow at Ron’s lack of reaction.

“Merlin, Hermione! I’ve taught you 100 times!”

Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.

“Look,” he moved his hand to one of her pieces. He whisked it across the board, then one of his pieces, and then one of Hermione’s, and then one of his own, “Check.”

“Maybe if you had patience and didn’t stare me down every time it was my turn-” Hermione started, glancing to you for support.

Her eyes widened when she saw the somewhat intimate position you were in with Fred, her sentence dropping. 

“If you didn’t take so long, I wouldn’t stare you down!” Ron huffed and pushed his chair back, standing suddenly.

He hadn’t even glanced at you and Fred, missing Hermione’s shocked expression.

“What are you doing?” she questioned Fred, sounding even more offended than when Ron was yelling at her a moment ago.

“What?” Fred replied nonchalantly, pushing his body away from yours and taking Ron’s seat.

He moved the chair closer to the table, purposefully brushing his knee against yours. You knew he was watching your face, so you kept a neutral expression.

“He was all over you,” Hermione whispered to you, as if Fred wasn’t right in front of her,

“So?” you asked, acting as if it wasn’t abnormal for Fred to ‘be all over you’.

You were internally cringing at the whole thing, at Fred’s forwardness, lying to Hermione, the whole situation.

“Something must be in the air today,” Hermione said to no one in particular as she stood from the table, “everyone’s lost their minds.”

She left you and Fred, leaving him with a smirk on his face.

“I think that went well,” Fred said, moving the pieces on the chess board around swiftly as he set it up for a new game.

You moved to Hermione’s seat so you were across from him, rolling your eyes. 

“This is ridiculous, Fred,” you said, and at the sound of your genuine annoyance his eyes were on your face.

The board in front of you was set anew, white closest to you. You let yourself sit in your frustration for a moment, looking down at the board and moving a pawn. Fred made no move to his own pieces, just staring at you from his side of the table.

“What d’you mean?” he said, watching your hand retreat from the board. 

“These public displays of affection- isn’t it a little ridiculous?” you said, locking your eyes on the game in front of you.

A look of hurt flashed across Fred’s face, not that you would have seen it, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His hand lazily moved one of his pawns.

“I don’t think so, no,” he said, leaning back in his chair and still studying your face, “I think they’re quite effective.”

“They’re only effective because I’m playing along,” you moved another pawn, hoping Fred would take the bait so you could steal his pawn.

“Which I appreciate fully,” he said, leaning forward and moving his pawn exactly where you wanted him to.

You stole his piece, advancing on the board. He hadn’t even registered the game, frankly, only looking at you.

“I feel like-” you didn’t know what you felt. You hadn’t put it into words, but you knew you didn’t like it.

Fred, and older, charming, handsome boy, was showing you a new amount of attention. Fred, a boy you had a crush on almost the entire time you’ve known him, was sending you flirtatious winks in the hallways and being very affectionate. Fred, your best friend’s older brother, was trying to date you to win a bet.

“-nevermind,” you finished, realizing you could not say any of this aloud. 

Fred had a quizzical look on his face, watching you as you silently sat across from him. You met his eyes for the first time since he sat down, swallowing hard. You stared at each other for at least a minute, neither of you moving or breaking the contact. His eyes had an intensity in them that you had never seen before, but they were also gentle and kind. He looked soft, his face illuminated by the faint candle light and fireplace, casting a yellow hue over his skin. His hair was grown out and pushed off his forehead, falling easily on the sides of his face. He had taken his tie off, though still in his school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mouth, usually in a resting smirk, was thin and straight, making him look rarely serious. 

You felt like it took ages, but you finally broke his stare and cast your eyes downward at the board. You looked back up at him, seeing his eyes unmoving from your face.

“Your move,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Fred’s eyes shot to the board, and he moved the first piece he saw. His mind was racing as he tried to collect his thoughts, all of which were about you. 

He had no idea what happened, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and his hands were sweating. Fred, a man who had never once done anything serious, was feeling very serious. He didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but all he knew was that he thought you were remarkably beautiful. You were perfect, really, and he could not wait for this game of chess to end so he could get the hell away from you. 

Fred had never been in any sort of serious relationship. He had never dated a girl for longer than a few weeks, usually doing something that offended them (that was often mentioning how hot another girl was, or, in the worst case, snogging said other girl). He didn’t care for anything long-term, anything serious, because he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone that interesting. You, however, made his hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s mind run blank.

He blinked at the board, realizing it was his turn again, and felt like giggling like a school girl. He shot his head up, looking around the common room and pretending to be in a hurry.

“Have you got the time?” he asked, watching as you looked down at your wrist- eyes flickering to your hand, which he realized he wanted nothing more than to hold in that moment- checking the time on your watch and telling him. He sprang from his chair, “I told George I’d meet him in a few, can we continue this later?”

He hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was running through the portrait hole, nearly knocking a few first years off their feet when he bumped into them.

Fred disappeared from the common room, leaving you with the chess board.

For the next few days, Fred’s flirting was non-existent. He wasn’t ignoring you, but the entire dynamic between you had shifted; something changed. He wasn’t painfully arrogant, seeming to take more effort in the way he treated you. There was no inappropriate flirting, no lustful winks. You wondered if the bet was still on.

You found out soon that it was. 

You and Hermione left the library fairly late into the afternoon, but neither of you minded the time that got away from you. You spent the day doing very little actual studying, talking and laughing instead. There was a very few amount of people who could tear Hermione away from her studies, and she didn’t often like to admit that you were one of them. 

“Are you going to tell me why Fred was so-” she broke off, shuddering in some sort of disgusted way that made you laugh “-touchy with you the other day?”

Hermione had been pressing a little bit every time she saw you about Fred, and you had been avoiding it every time. 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just Fred being Fred,” you insisted, rolling your eyes playfully. 

The guilt of lying to your friends left you a few days ago, instead you only felt overwhelming uneasiness as your schoolgirl crush for Fred resurfaced. You couldn’t help it; the hot older boy you had liked since your first year was suddenly putting himself in compromising situations with you. So, you couldn’t tell Hermione about Fred’ bet, because then you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself telling her about your genuine crush. 

“Really?” Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into yours.

“Yes, really,” you insisted, turning the corner to the main staircase that was crowded with students wandering the castle on the weekend afternoon, “ I don’t get why your fixating on this, ‘Mione.”

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears. Her gaze was locked on something on the stairs beneath you both. You followed it, seeing the heavy stream of students starting to part. From your position, you couldn’t see much through the crowd, but soon the crowd thinned around you and you got closer.

Fred stood on the landing, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. You bit your lip, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your chest. Such a grand gesture for a fake one-month relationship, this boy was determined to beat George and win those three Galleons. You felt Hermione clutching loosely to your arm, a dazed sort of look overcoming her features. You couldn’t help but laugh at this, prying yourself free from her grip and walking down the stairs to meet Fred.

He also looked sort of dazed, and with a quizzical expression you felt your face heat up under the stares of everyone in the stairwell. You came to the landing, looking up at Fred. His hand shook a little as he held the flowers, and he bit his lip harshly. 

“Want to go out with me?” he asked, a surprisingly earnest voice replacing his usual smug one. 

You glanced at your watch, moving to stand on your toes to reach him. You moved your mouth to his ear, speaking so only he could hear you, “You’re about a week early with this gesture, Freddie.”

He chuckled, and from being so close to him his chest bumped yours slightly. You fell to stand flat on your feet, still close to him. He looked down at you, holding the flowers between your chests. 

“I don’t like following schedules,” he said, grinning down at you.

You resisted the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, settling instead on a bashful smile. He handed you the flowers, the brown paper they were wrapped in feeling a little damp from how profusely his hands were nervously sweating.

When he made this bet with George, he had just planned on kissing you in some busy hallway to announce the start of your relationship, as he did with most of his relationships. Somehow, though, you felt more special. His stomach sank every time he thought about the limited and fake month he’d have to with you, but he forced his way through it. 

So he went to the field by Hagrid’s hut and picked the best flowers he could find, wrapping them in a brown paper and organizing them so they were perfect, because you were perfect. 

He looked down at you, watching you as you held the flowers up to your face and smelled them. Your eyes were light and filled with innocent excitement, giving him an enchanting smile that showed all your teeth; you looked incredibly and undeniably happy, and that made Fred happy. 

You had both nearly forgotten about the entire student body surrounding you both, watching the exchange. Fred, feeling unnerved by the vulnerability he had exhibited in such a large crowd, looked up and smiled smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. The entire staircase erupted in a somewhat jumbled mix of cheers and laughter, sending a deep red blush to your cheeks. Fred looked down at you, and in a moment of unfiltered happiness, brought his hands to your cheeks. He lifted your head from where you had ducked it to hide the blush, forcing you to look up at him with the embarrassed grin on your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, his face was leaning closer to yours and his hands on your cheeks were pulling you closer to him. You barely had the time to register what was happening, only hearing the laughter and cheers around you get louder as Fred’s face was pressed against yours.

He was fast at first, passionate and quick as if he thought he only had a second before you pulled away. You couldn’t though, even though every bone in your body was telling you to. Your lasting feelings for Fred were telling you that this kiss was okay, that your friendship with Ron would take the backseat for a while as you let Fred press himself against you. Your thoughts were fading, being replaced with the hyper awareness of everywhere Fred was touching you. His lips slowed and his breathing became slower too. He let out a sigh through his nose, the air hitting your face and sending a brand new flush to your cheeks. His hands on your cheeks stopped pulling you towards him, now being a gentle and soft presence on your skin. His left hand was grazing your jaw, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin lightly. His right hand cupped your cheek firmly still, but his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone. You held the flowers in one hand, and it wasn’t until a few seconds into the kiss that you had even remembered you had hands. You rested your hand holding the flowers against his chest, tilting the bouquet so it didn’t hit Fred in the face. Your other hand snaked up his arm, clutching loosely at his strong forearm as it hung between your bodies. 

You were both at each other’s wills, you would do anything Fred and Fred vowed to himself that he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you asked him to. 

The spark moving through Fred’s body was nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t feel it when he kissed Angelina Johnson, his first kiss, after winning a Quidditch match. He didn’t feel it when he drunkenly kissed Alicia Spinnet at a party. He didn’t feel anything close to this when he kissed Katie Bell in a game of truth or dare last year. You were completely new to Fred, and part of him already knew he wanted to spend every second with you from then on out.

You pulled away first, entirely and completely breathless. You looked up at Fred, mouth opening and closing like an out of water fish as you tried to find words to say in this moment. Fred just chuckled, bringing his hand on your cheek to graze his knuckles against your swollen lips. You closed your mouth, feeling okay with having nothing to say, and figuring it was better to not say anything anyways. 

The crowd registered in your brain, making you feel extremely embarrassed again. You shoved your face into Fred’s chest, hiding the flush all over your face.

“Alright! Shows over, you perverts,” Fred called out, smiling widely at the group.

You heard the shuffling of feet begin around you, the traffic beginning once again. A few wolf whistles reached your ears, and you didn’t remove yourself from Fred’s chest until you were sure everyone had moved on. 

Fred’s large hand rested on the back of your head, soothing down your hair. You found it oddly intimate, and you knew letting all of this happen was only setting yourself up for hurt when this bet was inevitably over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Pulling away finally, your flowers clutched at your side, you took a deep breath. You were bringing your gaze to look up at Fred, but a group of redheads standing behind him caught your eyes and made them widen.

“I am so telling mum you have a girlfriend!” Ginny squealed, her voice easily heard in the now empty stairwell.

Fred turned to face his family, seeing Ginny, Ron, George, Hermione, and Harry looking at him as if he’s sprouted five new limbs.

Ron elbowed Ginny, sending her a wide-eyed look, “my bestfriend is not his girlfriend!” Ron said confidently, then turning to Fred with a threatening look, “My bestfriend is not your girlfriend.”

Fred smiled nervously, “I’m not dating Harry, Ron,” he attempted to joke, only earning a laugh from George and an embarrassed look from Harry. 

You peaked from behind Fred, meeting the group. You smiled at them sheepishly, meeting Hermione’s baffled eyes.

“I knew it!” she called, causing the entire group to turn their heads to look at her, “I knew you fancied her.”

Hermione looked quite proud of herself, but Ron looked fuming. Harry had sort of a ‘I-saw-this-coming’ look on his face.

“Guys,” you said, stepping towards them, “Ron.”

You gave Ron a pleading look, prepared to embarrass yourself and set the whole thing straight, even prepared to lose 3 Galleons. Suddenly, Hermione stepped between you and Ron.

“Ronald,” she said sternly, snapping Ron out from his angry mood briefly, “I hope you are not about to prevent a lovely relationship just because you have no emotional intelligence or maturity regarding these subjects.”

Your eyes widened from behind Hermione, casting a shocked glance to Fred. George and Ginny stifled their laughter, saving an embarrassed Ron some of his pride after being scolded by Hermione. 

“But he’s my brother!” he whined, his anger leaving him and instead being replaced by some sort of tame disgust.

You couldn’t take it, every part of you wanted to tell them it was a bet, the galleons be damned. You looked to Fred with a warning look, only to see him digging in his pockets.

“George,” he called out, removing his hand from his pocket and clutching something, “catch.”

Fred tossed six coins at George, and George caught them with surprise.

“Bets off,” Fred said, looking painfully serious. 

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, an immense feeling of guilt wash over you. You had cost Fred six galleons, even after the work he had put in. He had kissed you for the sake of it, and you couldn’t go one month. 

“Fred,” you stuttered, looking at him with guilt

His mouth broke into a grin, however, and he took a few steps towards you. George watched Fred’s movements, and began pulling away the group. Ron, still standing there with a confused look on his face, was tugged away by the back of his collar.

“I don’t want to fake date you,” he whispered to you once he was close enough, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that seems like a lot of work for nothing, then-” you started, only for his lips to fall onto yours and silence you.

You couldn’t help it, again, as you let yourself melt into him. He pulled away all too soon however, resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes. 

“I want to date you for real,” he said, biting his lip nervously, “not as a bet.”

Your eyes widened, and once again you could not think of anything to say. You opened and closed your mouth, searching for the words, but gave up. You gave a relieved sigh, hearing the words you had dreamed of hearing since you were 12, and kissed Fred Weasley. 

[moralesispunk]

In his eyes II (Blacksmith Pero Tovar AU)

Pero Tovar x Female Reader

Part 2 of a short Pero Tovar Blacksmith AU

Part 1 here | Masterlist here under Pero | Part 3 here

Summary: after spending some time with Pero, your relationship takes a more personal turn when he comes by your father’s house every week to teach you checkers.

A/N: At the start we get to see some of this from Pero’s POV. I didn’t realise how much I enjoyed writing for Pero until I did part 1 so I hope people enjoy this part as much as the first!

The now empty basket where the bakings so kindly gifted by the bakers daughter had arrived in sat atop Pero’s workshop table for two days before he found confidence in the depth of his body to return it. While he waited, the lily that she had wrapped in the string around the bread had been pressed between the two heaviest books Pero could find. It was something he had watched his mother do whenever she received flowers from his father before he passed. He placed the now flat flower in the front of his notebook and placed that notebook in the safe keepings of his drawer at his bedside, opening it every night to run his fingers over it before going to sleep.

He wasn’t sure what the feeling in his stomach was when he thought of her was. The first time he had laid eyes on her was when he had walked into the village. While most people had stared at him, they looked away when his eyes met theirs. But not her. She held his gaze until he had completed passed by and her soft lips had even began to curl into a smile.

He had seen her every other day since then, eating more bread following his arrival in this village than he had in the rest of his life put together. Her gentle voice would wish him a good day and try to make conversation about the weather or the new pastries her father had baked that morning. While he usually avoided conversations with others because he did not want to entertain them, he avoided talking to her because he was worried that he would scare her off in some way. So instead, he let her talk about how the sun was arriving earlier in the village this year and he would offer a smile when she joked that maybe he brought it from whatever land he had travelled from. 

Eventually, when he noticed how she spoke more to him than the others who were customers at the bakery, he began to offer his voice more. The day he learned her name was the day he swore his soul had been tied to hers for eternity. He spent the rest of his day repeating her name on his lips, listening to how it sounded in the different moods he went through as the day went on.

He still could not put a name to the feeling that swirled around his veins every second of every day for her. His stomach felt like it was flipping with every step he took towards the bakery, his heart felt like it had stopped for a moment when their eyes met and his palms would sweat when she first started talking. All these symptoms were usually of a sickness, something deep inside that had to be rid of, but he wanted to feel it more. He went out of his way to talk the long walk home from work to pass by the bakery and catch one final glimpse of her for the day, hoping she would turn and look up at him to make his heart stop.

As he lifted the basket to return to the bakers he walked by the checkers board she had commented on before she left two days before. He picked the board up folding it over and placing the checkers in a small bag to place in the basket as well. He had no one to play with and was not even sure why he brought it on his travels so maybe she and her father could have better use for it.

As he walked towards the bakery thoughts swirled his head of what she would be wearing today and whether her hair would be tied back or loose as she sometimes wore it. When he entered the bakers there was no one at the front of the shop, the only sound being the bell that rang through to the back as he opened the door. The baker walked out from the back, wiping some flour on the front of his apron as he headed towards Pero.

“Ah, Mr Tovar! Thank you again, I don’t think I have had such an easy time of making bread in years.”

Pero just grunted in response, making sure to nod his head so not to appear too rough before the kind man. He handed the basket over to the baker, watching as his eyebrow was cocked at the contents of the basket.

“What is this?”

“Checkers. Your daughter noticed it and you need two people to play,” Pero watched as the baker’s confused expression did not lift, “... and I have no one to play with so you two would have more use of it.”

“I do not know how to play.”

“Oh,” was all Pero could offer in return, heat climbing to his cheeks as he was lost for words more so than usual.

“You are not very good with women are you,” the baker chucked, “well, women like my daughter,” he clarified, both men aware that men who travelled did need their beds warmed like the rest.

“No,” Pero sighed, worried about what the baker was about to say.

If the man warned Pero away from ever talking to his daughter again he would have to respect that but his heart would ache every day. The thought of not getting to see the most beautiful woman he had seen across all the lands or listen to the most wonderful voice as she wished him a good day was already making his heart fall lower into his stomach.

“Well,” the baker interrupted his thoughts, “the bakery does not open on Mondays so you will come and teach her. Do you know where we live?”

Pero shook his head and the baker told him to walk east out of town, through the path in the forest until he reached the cottage. Pero nodded as he listened to the instructions, waiting until the baker had finished before walking out. As he reached the door he turned to thank the man. He did not know why he trusted Pero with his daughter but he had shown him more kindness than most. The baker smiled before turning and heading into the back of the shop.

For the rest of the week Pero thought about Monday. He did not sleep much the night before, something he never usually had trouble with. When he woke the next day the sun had barely risen above the trees. He set the pot of water above the fire, warming it just enough for a bath. He could not remember the last time he had spent this long in a bath but by the time he was changing into his clothes for the day the sun was well into the sky.

The walk to the baker’s house was not long but it was peaceful. It was just outside the village, through a forest path. When he finally reached the house he took three deep breaths, counting them slowly, before he knocked on the door. The baker opened it, welcoming Pero in with a smile.

When he stepped inside, the baker's daughter sat on the floor next to a small table that came to his knee height. It was a warm cottage, not just from the roaring fire than spread heat around the room, but from the personal contents that decorated each shelf. The warm browns and reds of throws and pillows to make the wooden benches softer would make anyone feel at home, even the tall, dark, mysterious man who was entering their home today.

The baker’s daughter was laying out the board, placing checkers on squares. As she looked up, he noticed the way her eyes shimmered from the candles lining the edge of the table. She smiled at him, at first a small, welcoming curve of the lips, before it turned into a wide grin that showed all her teeth. She looked so... pure. Loving. Caring. Innocent. A thousand words swam around his skull as he took her in.

She sat with her legs tucked under her, one hand playing with the hem of her skirt enough to show the soft skin at the bottom of her leg and the other resting on the board.

"Pero, I hope I set it up right I tried to remember how it looked in your workshop."

-------

As the knock finally came to the door the butterflies in your stomach were stalled. Your father walked to the door, opening to reveal Pero at the door. He was still dressed head to toe in all black but his layers less constricting that the ones you had seen him don in the village. The ones he wore now truly showed his proportions to you - his broad shoulders that looked as though they would not be able to fit through the doorway, his large arms from years of hard labour, the way he appeared slightly softer around the middle.

He nodded to your father as he walked in, his fingers rubbing together as he stepped into the house. Despite his dark eyes and hair, his scowl and large frame it felt as though the room got that bit lighter when he walked in. 

"Pero, I hope I set it up right I tried to remember how it looked in your workshop."

He looked down at the board, reaching to move two pieces into what must have been their correct spaces.

"Sit," you motioned to a pillow you had placed at the other side of the table.

You had to bite back a laugh at the huff Pero let out when he lowered himself to the ground. You must not have done a good enough job, noticing the way Pero's eyes glared into you a little before he smiled.

"I'm going into the garden, the weeds are coming back. I expect you to make my daughter a checkers genius," your father motioned between you before walking out the door.

"Your father is a kind man," Pero noted after your father had moved to the garden.

"He is," you smiled, “would you like a drink?” 

Pero nodded and you lifted the jug next to you on the table to pour two glasses and handing him one.

"You are kind too," he added after taking a sip.

"And so are you."

Pero shook his head, "I am not."

His eyes that had not moved from your face since he walked in suddenly found whatever was on the ground more interesting. You frowned, moving closer to the table.

"You have been nothing but kind to me." 

"You do not know me. What I have done before I came here," his voice quiet.

"And you do not know me other than the girl who sells you bread. I can see you're a good man, Pero, in your eyes."

Pero did not know why you had so much faith in him, he certainly did not deserve it. He looked up at you again and stopped himself from telling you that you were wrong, that he was a horrible man who had done horrible things when he saw the softness in your eyes. Maybe he could be kind for you.

"So, how do you play?" 

"You will play black to go first and I will play white. You must try to move all your pieces to my side of the board..."

He explained the game as you went, taking his time in telling you how to move around the board so you would win the first game. He never got frustrated at the questions you asked and did not care when you asked him to repeat the rules for the sixth time. As he told you to make the final move, making you the winner, he smiled, a true smile that took over his face as you laughed and cheered.

"Okay, okay. Will we play again? This time don't let me win," you laughed.

Pero chuckled, setting up the board again but still letting you go first.

"So, what did you do before you came to the village?" you asked after a while.

You watched while Pero's forearm tightened as he reached for the piece in front of him. He turned to look out the window, looking for your father before answering.

"He cannot hear us. Even if he could, he is not a naive man," you reassured.

"I sold my sword. To Kings and Lords or whoever had coins to spare. I travelled a lot of lands and fought a lot of men... and beasts."

"I bet you have a lot of stories. A lot more than everyone in this village put together."

"Probably. But for another time because I," Pero moved one final piece, "win."

You both laughed, leaning back to hold yourselves up with your palms resting on the ground behind you. The room was a lot darker than when he had came earlier today, the light from the sun almost non-existent and the fire lighting up his face perfectly. The red and amber glow that covered his face showed it perfectly. His jaw and nose were sharp as if carved from the strongest stone, softened slightly by the lines that surrounded his eyes while he smiled. 

"You will come back to play then?"

"Yes, but you should practice so I do not feel so bad winning next time," he teased.

Pero stood from the table, the few hours you had spent sitting opposite one another meaning you had forgotten just how large he was until he towered over you. You tried to stand and join him but the pins and needles running up your legs made that difficult.

Pero reached a hand out, letting you hold onto it as you stood. His hand surrounded yours easily, the rough skin contrasting the gentle hold. You held onto it for a moment longer while you spoke.

"Thank you for teaching me," you whispered.

"Thank you for letting me," Pero lifted your hand placing a kiss to the back of your knuckles before dropping your hand again.

Your eyes remained on one another for a moment until your father entered the house again.

"Ah, Mr Tovar. How did my daughter do?"

"A natural," he turned, winking at you outside of your father's view.

"Will you be back? Next week?"

Pero nodded turning to wish you goodbye as he walked by your father who held the door open for him. As Pero walked out your father headed to the kitchen to start dinner and you moved to the window.

Pero stalked the path, each step powerful and calculated as he walked away. When he was outside of your garden, walking on the forest path he turned back to your house, catching your eye. He smiled, lifting a hand to wave. You waved back, unable to stop the childish grin on your face that did not come off until Pero must have been home.

Pero came every Monday for a few weeks, teaching you new tricks and manoeuvres to better win. You learned more about him as the weeks went on. He told you about his home land, his family and even some stories from his travels. You would see each other in between Mondays with you stopping by the workshop to say hello on the way to the bakers and he would drop in for his bread as usual, you wrapping some extra sweet pastries in along with them.

You waited by the doorstep for him to come today. You could make his walk out as his body emerged from the trees. His usual dark clothing made the flowers in his hand stand out even more. You stood from the step as you approached, flattening your skirts until he stopped in front of you, lifting the flowers to hand them to you.

“I saw these and - I- I thought of you.”

“They’re- they’re beautiful, Pero. Thank you,” you smiled as you lifted to smell the flowers, “the weather is lovely today, will we play outside?”

You and Pero played your games outside today, not talking too much other than sharing a story of your past every so often. The sun shone down on the garden, the smell of the pollen and sound of birds surrounding you both. When the sun finally started to lower and you packed the board away, your father called you both into the house.

“Pero,” you smiled as your father used his first name, something Pero had requested he do after you had watched him tense every time he called him by Mr Tovar, “I am away from the village next week, I have to visit my brother. Would you be so kind to check in on my daughter while I am gone?”

Pero’s mouth opened for a moment before he forced it shut again. You turned to look at him and as his eyes fell on your face he nodded before voicing an agreement to your father.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I leave in two days.”

And with that the conversation was done and Pero began to leave once again. As you watched him go this week, your mind spun faster than it ever had before. You imagined the next time he would walk down this path would be to visit you alone in this house.

Pero was a gentleman and he respected your father but you knew as much as Pero that your father did not have any unreasonable expectations about what would happen when he was gone, otherwise he would have asked the butcher or the farmer, people you had known since a child.

He walked away a little slower than usual this week, turning more than once to wave goodbye. You couldn’t stop the way your heart was beating faster in your chest with this goodbye, looking forward to the next time you would see his face as he walked up the path.

//

Permanent tag list // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 

Pero tag list // @bonktime @justpedropascal @coldlilheart @shadowolf993 @stylelovechild @frostsoldier @idreamofboobear 

//

Excited for a part 3 where Pero and the baker’s daughter get some one-on-one time...