#look I know I know I know 'comment on fic!!!' is a sentiment repeated often and enthusiastically but like

[imwritesometimes]

ngl getting comments on fic is like hmmm maybe I should give this whole writing thing a try again....

[lostdrarryfics]

Hello! I hope your new year is off to a great start!

I'm looking for a fic, I can't imagine it being more than 50k. It's post hogwarts and the following is all I can remember

- Harry testifies for Draco and after Draco tries to talk to him but Harry says something along the lines of "people are watching/can see us" and Draco spirals a bit with, 'of course he can't be seen with the likes of me'

- Harry is low key pining after that, I believe. Draco tries to keep his distance but ends up often being in the general vicinity of the hogwarts crew when they're at the pub.

- I specifically remember a bit where Draco is having a bit of a hookup in an alley behind a pub with some guy but when Draco tries to hold his hand (or something similar) the guy brushes him off and repeats the exact sentiments Harry had at the ministry "not where people can see"

- eventually Harry/Draco get together and Draco is nervous about the moment Harry realizes people will know about them and Draco tries to temper it but when Harry asks what's wrong, Draco is like "people will see" (or whatever the line ACTUALLY is) and Harry's like "yeah. I want them to...?" And then that's the end.

I know that's pretty vague and kinds describes half the fics with that trope but... couldn't hurt to ask, right? Thanks for all you do! ❤️

We believe you are looking for In What Universe? by waterwings (70k, E)

Don’t forget to bookmark, leave kudos and comments!

[verycharismaticdragon]

25

[ common fandom complaint that you’re sick of hearing ]

You didn't pick a fandom so I've decided that the perfectly hinged option is to talk about fandoms in general; so here goes.

I'm deeply tired of complaints about abundances. "Why is there so much of ship X", "Why are there so many fics about Y"... And I get the frustration, I really do - it's so often I wish some concept that looks so interesting in my head was more explored, instead of everyone just repeating the popular fanon. But!

This specific way of complaining about it is just... THE most counterproductive. Because there's an obvious answer to that "why?" and it's "because people find it interesting". And saying that something a person is interested in is bad and annoying is, unsurprisingly, NOT going to make them abandon something they like and switch to whatever the complainer wants to see. At best, they'll just think the complainer is kind of an ass and keep on doing whatever they were doing; at worst, it can over time chip at their willingness to engage with that particular fandom at all. And then there's just less fancontent overall, and still no things the complainer wanted in the first place.

(As an aside, there's a similar phenomenon I see when people engage with queer media, where basically a silly indie game with queer rep will be picked the fuck apart for what it does not have, instead of, you know, being celebrated for what it did portray well. Because tearing into every queer game that comes out absolutely does not lead to more queer games with other types of rep! It's ridiculous that ppl do not seem to see that!)

And the thing is, it's very easy to take the sentiment behind such complaint, and then do positive things with it - things which, I dare say, will benefit the fandom as a whole. And it all starts with rewording that complaint. Instead of saying "there's too much of concept A", say "I would love to see concept B explored", or, "I love it when people explore concept B". Someone who had not thought of B before might consider it and become interested. Someone who thought of it but was worried it wouldn't be well-received will feel validated. Someone who did explore it will be happy - and might even pop into comments with a rec! Seriously: just channeling that frustration into a call for more content, instead of saying there's too much content, makes it more pleasant to see and more likely to actually net the reaction the complainer wants.

(It's like... reverse 'two cakes' almost. Instead of complaining you hate chocolate cake, say you wish there was a vanilla one too. Maybe someone who was afraid their vanilla cake wouldn't be well received will be running to you with it.)

After that, there's of course the option of uplifting the fanworks that do [whatever it is] right - hyping them up, spreading the word, writing the author a long-ass comment. And one can always cook their own meals too! Yes, even if one isn't a creative; sometimes a screenshot of canon material with a short comment is all it takes to make the gears in someone else's head turn. (Spoken as someone who definitely did get ideas from exactly such posts.)

Anyway, tl;dr: I wish ppl would stop complaining there's too much of [some fandom content], and started to channel that energy into hyping up the content they would like to see. This would be more productive, and just plain more pleasant for everyone involved.

[inked-out-trees]

69, 44, and 25 for the writers ask

I need to get back to writing too, but in good news I'm getting a feel of character for one of them. Now if I only had a plot

we're doing it! getting back into writing together! thank you for the reverse directional asks i will do them exactly how you have asked

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

if i'm coming into it Knowing that i want to write an emotional scene, usually there's music involved! i have a collection of sad and otherwise melancholy playlists (plus one that's just songs i think would fit well in those angsty last 3 minutes of a tv show episode before the cliffhanger) and they tend to serve me well; if all else fails i'll find the most recent mood-fitting song i've been repeating lately and loop it forever. (most recently has been doctor eleven by dan romer. was the only thing i listened to for my crw class submission and personally i think it turned out swell.)

as for feeling the characters, i don't think so? a lot of the time what i feel when i'm writing is just joy from writing, vague evil sentiment, or if it's Really A Lot To Handle, there'll be like, an ache. occasionally i do make myself cry but that's mostly for personal or original things, and less for fanfic. unless it's the annie chapter of bean's beans. but typically i am somewhat detached, which is actually kind of impressive considering my propensity for imprinting on literally everything. huh! i learn something new about myself every day.

44. any writing advice you want to share?

man i never know if there's any sort of sagely things i do that could be passed off as wisdom but. the best piece of advice i've read (on tumblr too i think) was that if you're stuck, it's possible that the problem is actually a couple lines back. usually i look between three paragraphs and half a page up to see what different choices i could make, and that tends to solve my problem more often than not. kind of magic, that.

in other sort of throwaway bits, i always start a fic creation process by opening a doc and just rambling onto it. no proper prose, just as though i'm having a conversation with the empty page. it's helpful both to get my ideas in order and to have a place to come back to if need be - it's easier to toss the ball around if the net's already there, yknow? also, if for some reason microsoft word isn't doing it for me, i find fighter's block to be good for dumping out words, and zenpen has carried me through several terms of creative writing assignments and also poetry so take that as you will.

25. what's your revision or rewriting process like?

would you laugh at me if i said i don't edit my fics. this is not necessarily true in that i don't consider what i post to be rough in any way, but when it comes to fic especially i'm a big first-one-done kind of guy. that being said: i reread my work a lot. a lot a lot. and often times i will pick up little things that need fixing, line edits or weird repetitive things, so i do find it helpful. also the read-aloud function on word has been great to me. and i make frequent use of the comment function in word, which has been exceedingly useful when it comes to the fact that i haven't yet figured out the whole timeline of fixed point so some of the dates are just "FIGURE THIS OUT LATER" and "IS THIS TRUE?".

and of course sharing with other people :) coming from creative writing seminars i've realised (? finally understood? i don't actually know how much of an enlightenment it was but it was something) how useful it is to get someone and just say, hey, tell me how you interpret this, are there any questions you still have, god forbid did i leave any gaping plot holes. this comes in especially handy because in MY brain i know all the answers, and sometimes they forget to worm out onto the page. this again has just happened in my current seminar, so rest in peace to the quest plot i tentatively thought i could maybe go without describing (for wordcount's sake) but apparently not. it is cool and fine.

anyway happy tuesday and also thank you!

[maester-of-spreadsheets]

Okay fuck it doing that writing meme. I put it in a randomizer. Gonna do however many a day until I’m done or get bored

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Oh man at the risk of sentimentality it’s the positive feelings I potentially bring to readers and the weird connection that comes with that. There’s one fic in particular I have that’s very long and was very hard to write but every so often I get comments like wow this really made me reflect on life itself, basically. And I was reflecting on life while writing it. But also sometimes I get comments that are just like HNGGHHHH THIS WAS HOT/SAD/SCARY over something I thought was an audience of one (aka me) kinda thing. It’s just really cool how art can forge connections like that, even if it’s just as brief an interaction as a one sentence comment on ao3.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

There’s lots so I’ll talk about one of the stickiest quotes in my head lately. It comes from We Had to Remove This Post which is a novel that’s a psychological study of the toll that thar working content moderation takes on the narrator:

So what kinds of things did you see? It’s crazy how often people still ask me that, even though it’s been sixteen months since I left Hexa. People just won’t stop trying, and if my answer doesn’t live up to their expectations—too vague, not shocking enough—they simply repeat the question, putting it slightly differently. “But what’s the worst thing you ever saw? [long description of something fucked up here that I won’t just spring on my tumblr followers lol but then the rest of the quote goes like, bolding added by me] That house where the bathroom light is still on at night, that’s where she’s sitting alone on the cold, hard floor. But that’s not what people want to hear. They want me to give them something new, things they’d never dare look at, things that are far beyond their imagination, which is why Gregory asks, “But what’s the worst thing you ever saw?” rather than “How is that girl doing now?

I have a job that sometimes makes people go “what’s the most fucked up thing you ever saw” too so that’s when the book sunk its claws in and never let go. But I feel like “how is that person doing now” is the foundational Thing that makes me into writing

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

It’s not terrible advice but often misunderstood but that’s a rant for another thing. And I really like filing away memories of sensory details that are slightly surprising or are just Something enough for later use (random case in point I got pretty bad sunburn at the beach recently even though it was overcast and so I was assuming my cheeks hurt from the wind when it was actually the sun and if you ever see that in my writing now no shhhh you didn’t). Sometimes I mix and match these sensory memories for added specificity. I hope this makes sense, meds I have that make me sleepy are kicking in.

[fireemblems24]

Ao3 Ship Thoughts

To sate my desire to read Three Houses fan fiction and jump in on the shipping comments that have upticked recently, I decided to see what ships were the most popular on Ao3.

Some of it's exactly what I expected, and one in particular is just . . . what, why?

Ao3 is probably the closest you'll get to truly determining which ships are the most popular, or at least have the highest number of passionate fans. So I was curious to see who the top ships were. Here's the ones listed, in order:

Sylvain/Felix

Dimitri/Byleth

Edelgard/Byleth

Ferdinand/Hubert

Claude/Byleth

Dimitri/Felix

Dimitri/Claude

Felix/Annette

Caspar/Linhardt

Hilda/Marrianne

If I exclude the Byleth ships, Dimitri/Dedue, Byleth/Seteth, and Ingrid/Sylvain take up the three missing spots.

Byleth's Ships

I'm shocked. Really, truly shocked that Byleth/Lord is popular. Never wouldn't guessed. I am, of course, being sarcastic. If someone asked me to list who I think would show up in the top 10 most popular ships, the first three I'd list would be Byleth/Lord.

What I find more interesting is that Byleth/Seteth is the fourth option for Byleth. AO3 writers, I officially bow to your taste. It pleases me quite a bit that, if you're not going with one of the main lords, you all want Seteth. This I can agree with.

As for the Byleth/Lord ships, I feel kind of mixed on them. Every lord interacts with characters who have more depth than Byleth, but I still get the appeal. I'm going to deep dive into all of the lords relationships with Byleth later, but here's a quick summary.

Edelgard/Byleth is shoved down your throat so hard it's nearly impossible to ship Edelgard with someone else and even shortchanges her potential to have deep, non-romantic relationships because Edelgard puts Byleth on a pedestal that no one else can reach by her own dialogue.

Byleth's character arc works well alongside Dimitri's. While the relationship is pushed and fanservice-y scenes exist, the game leaves enough breathing room to see Byleth as a mentor/therapist/teacher figure, and Dimitri has no shortage of deep, meaningful relationships with others should you not want to do the whole self-insert thing. It's a good balance.

Claude and Byleth are the opposite of Edelgard and Byleth. They read almost more like friends than lovers. It's a breath of fresh air, honestly. Claude/Byleth seems like the healthiest possible romance for Byleth/lord because the lord in question here doesn't seem as dependent. That said, it lacks lacks romance and shipping fuel. I may complain about fanservice, but the Byleth/Claude dynamic does show why scenes of holding hands in the rain and teasing about badly drawn images might actually come in handy.

Edelgard's Ships

I'm not surprised, at all, that Edelgard has no popular ships outside of Byleth. Dialogue consistently shortchanges Edelgard's relationships with others by having her verbally, repeatedly put Byleth into a special "other" that no one else can reach for her.

Though, I guess I'm a bit surprised at the extreme lack of Edelgard/Hubert. I feel these two have a lot of shipping fuel and their supports left things unresolved. I've come across the sentiment in fandom many times that ship where things are tied off nicely with a bow leave less to explore and aren't as interesting, so I am bummed out no one seems interested in fleshing out Hubert/Edelgard more.

The outlook for Edelgard fanfic and me seems pretty limited. I don't like Edelgard/Byleth for various reasons beyond this scope of this post. I was kind of hoping there were some Edelgard/Hubert or Edelgard/Dorothea character study stuff that could help me get past how much Byleth gets in the way of Edelgard's character growth, but it seems fanfic writers only want to write about her and Byleth, which is a bummer.

On that note, I'm also surprised but also glad that Dimitri/Edelgard isn't a big thing. I thought it might be because tragedy of childhood friends turned enemies by events out of their control is popular. These two seem wildly incompatible though, so I'm glad people seem to agree.

Claude's Ships

Ok. Claude/Byleth. Expected. I'm feel positively towards the ship since they seem mostly good for each other even if it's not getting my heart all fluttering.

I'm surprised there's no Claude/Petra or Claude/Hilda. Those two are my personal favorites for him. I would've given Claude/Petra the edge given how they can uniquely relate to each other, but Hilda's scene in CF really gave Petra a run for her money. Even more so that Petra and Claude have obligations to two different nations and Hilda has no such complication.

But whattttt???? Claude/Dimitri? It's in the top 10?? More people ship Dimitri with Claude than Dedue?? I thought lord/lord might be popular, but I honestly thought Dimitri/Edelgard would take it, not Claude/Dimitri. They never really talk. So I'm a bit confused about this one. Though, intrigued by the idea.

Can I take a wild guess this partly stems from Claude having no real other viable M/M ships outside of M!Byleth and fics that plays up the chapter I'm about to play in AM (Dimitri saving Claude) or "what ifs" VW routes where Dimitri doesn't . . . you know.

I am really curious about this dynamic though. Because I like Claude - a lot. He's a character I want to get attached to. From experience, the fastest way for me to like a character is to give them a significant relationship I enjoy with a character I already love and the new character gets absorbed by proxy. So, fans, please, tell me more about this Dimitri/Claude. I am curious.

Dimitri's Ships

I am as unsurprised by Dimitri's being one of the biggest repeat offenders on here as I am by Edelgard being Byleth or bust. If Edelgard is written to fanservice the player by making the self-insert her one and only, Dimitri is fanservicing the player by being a shipping magnet. The writers knew what they were doing and who they were trying to appeal to with these two characters.

Dimitri/Byleth is a given. The game plays up the romance angle, but it's not at the expense of Dimitri's other relationships.

What I'm more interested in, though, is Felix/Dimitri. Between angsty CF stories, post-AM slow-burns, or fleshing out missing scenes from their shared childhood, there's just a lot to work with and a rich context to use their relationship - spun romantically - to explore each character. Felix and Dimitri's relationship is layered, complicated, heart breaking, and potentially healing. The fact they're two incredibly attractive guys doesn't hurt its popularity either, I'm sure. I'm not surprised it ranked that highly.

Claude/Dimitri surprises me. If two lords were going to get on this list together, I would've put bets on Edelgard/Dimitri. Since Claude and Dimitri's relationship is fairly unexplored, I'm really interested to see more about what exactly this is about. Don't get me wrong. I figured people would pair two main characters who are that good looking together, I just didn't think it would rank that high.

I am, slightly sad, that Dimitri/Dedue isn't a bit higher, but happy it seems to have some steam. I get it though. Dedue's not as flashy as some of the others on the shipping list and their relationship is so full of fluff by their A support it lacks the angst Felix/Dimitri and Dimitri/Byleth can draw out nor is as much of a play around with "what ifs" as Claude/Dimitri is.

Non-Lords/Main Characters Ships:

This list, more than anything else, shows AO3's penchant for writing M/M and F/F works for better or worse. Whether this phenomena stems from lack of representation, fetishizing by the fanbase, deeply ingrained gender roles making fictional M/F ships either less appealing to many fanfic writers, or M/F romances often getting assumed leading to less substantial writing compared to friendships - I don't know. Probably all of it.

There are a few surprises here for me. Felix/Sylvain is that popular? I figured they'd make the top 10, but #1 is surprising. Though, looking through the first page of the tag, it's true Felix/Sylvain have fics just for them, but it also seems like a common pairing in Dimitri/Byleth and Dimitri/Claude fics. It's the same story with Caspar/Linhardt, who I honestly didn't expect to see. They had a fair number of their own fics, but it seems many CF fics put them together rather than focus solely on them. Felix/Annette also balances being the main focus and an adjunct pairing. Marianne/Hilda seemed to have less fics where they took center stage and more they were one of many ships listed.

Ferdinand/Hubert having a lot of fics isn't surprising. I don't really care too much for it personally, but I can see the appeal of it.

I'm surprised Catherin/Shamir is nowhere in sight. Likewise, Rhea is absolutely nowhere. Kind of sad by the lack of adult characters in general. Especially Rhea. I think it's a pretty big sign of how the writing's treated her that such an important character is totally absent in this list.

Not surprised at all to see Felix also get so many ships. He, like Dimitri, seems designed on purpose to ship with many characters. I do really wish Dorothea and Seteth would get more attention though.

What do you guys think? Anything that surprised you? How do you feel about any of these ships and there popularity or lack thereof? Are there characters/pairings you wish got more attention? Any popular ships you despise (spill that tea)?

[liladiurne]

Brighter Than Bright - extract from chapter 16

Alright so... it’s been nearly a year. And... yeah. I’m back? I guess. 

I was never gone, to be honest. If you’re following me, here or elsewhere, you’ll know that I’ve posted other things in the last few months. I just needed a long break from this fic. For reasons. But I’m returning to it now, with a rested mind and a light heart, and I’m ready to dive in again, and eager to share the rest of this story. I’m not saying the updates will be regular because I don’t know if I might be tempted to write other things on the side (I probably will) but at least I’ll try to post once in a while, or more often than that, depending on my brain. But at least I have the heart now to get back to this story. 

I have a bit of chapter 16 written. Not much, but it’s coming together nicely. It’s hard to get my head back into the style and the story, but I’m getting there. And I thought maybe you’d like a little glimpse, so here’s the beginning of it. I hope you’ll enjoy. Thank you for being patient with me, and supporting me. I love you guys.

BRIGHTER THAN BRIGHT - EXTRACT FROM CHAPTER 16

The carriage is much quieter as it leaves Mayfair than it was on the journey there, the mood inside sombre and joyless. No longer does Harry have the heart to comment on the streets and the houses and all the sights London has to offer, and even as they get further away from Lord Riddle's cold and gloomy manor and closer to the safety of Hampstead, even as the fear and distress lift from his heart and mind, still he is not completely reassured.

Charlie is grimmer than ever, has barely uttered a word to him all night, and as they sit in the dimness, rocked sometimes roughly by the uneven pace of the horses, he can barely meet Harry's eye. At first, Harry thinks he is only imagining it, that Charlie is simply lost in thought, reminiscing on the events of the evening, but after many a long moment spent staring quite insistently at his brother, and after clearing his throat many times in hopes of catching his attention but getting no reaction whatsoever, not even the briefest of glances, it becomes clear that Charlie is avoiding him. The reason for this behaviour is not difficult to deduce. He must be so furious with Harry that he cannot stand to even look at him.

Harry wishes he could argue and protest, wishes he could reproach him this sentiment, but even from his own perspective, Charlie's anger is comprehensible and justified. I have never had a fondness for discipline, Harry had announced at the table, boldly, looking insolently at Lord Riddle. And he had thought himself quite clever in that moment, had felt a surge of satisfaction at the silence his words caused and the amount of time it took Lord Riddle to reply. He had felt powerful, perhaps, in a way. But neither the empowerment nor the personal satisfaction could excuse the insolence, and had he known that these words would anger his brother so, he never would have spoken them.

As Charlie continues to look away, his brow set in a frown and his jaw tight, Harry feels the sudden urge to cry.

“Charlie,” he says at last, an uncontrollable tremor in his voice. “Please forgive me.”

When finally his brother looks at him, it is not with irritation but rather great bewilderment. “Forgive you?” he repeats. “Whatever for?”

“For how I spoke to Lord Riddle,” Harry says in a rush, nearly whispering, for he is afraid his voice might break if he speaks any louder. “I should not have been so insolent, but I only meant to defend myself from–”

“I know you did,” Charlie interrupts moodily, looking away again, but his features are softer now, and his anger not quite as pronounced as Harry had expected. “And you would not have had to speak to him at all if I had done my duty as your brother, if I had defended you. I should be the one to ask for your forgiveness.”

Harry stares at him in surprise. His urge to cry has diminished but still there remains a burning knot in his throat. “Are you not angry with me?” he mumbles.

Charlie regards him with disbelief. “Angry with you? Harry, I am furious with myself. I never should have allowed him to humiliate you so. I should have put a stop to it. I should have intervened when he began asking those untoward questions and making those rude comments. Perhaps I should have taken you home the moment he first set eyes on you. I saw his disdain for you, and I felt your reticence. I should have taken you home,” he repeats, shameful, “but I was constantly reminded of what Grandfather said about Lord Riddle’s influence and how we should remain in his good graces, and so I did nothing, fearing that, by aggravating him, I would risk ruining all your chances of marrying well.”

“You can console yourself with the certainty that, as I have no intention of marrying, no particular harm has been done to me tonight,” Harry announces stubbornly.

Charlie frowns. “You may feel this way at present, but who knows what may happen years or mere months from now? Lord Riddle is acquainted with all the great families in London, and a good number of them value his opinion. What if you were to be courted one day, and you happened to return the young man’s affections? And what if Lord Riddle were to openly oppose to the marriage because of what happened tonight?”

“Firstly, Lord Riddle is not the King!” Harry objects loudly. “I doubt it would matter if he were opposed to anything, marriage or otherwise. He disapproved of Maxwell and Vincent’s engagement and yet they are betrothed nonetheless, which is indication enough that some of those great families are perfectly able to disregard his opinion! And secondly, as I previously told you, and many times before, it does not matter, for I have the absolute certainty that there exists no one, in London or elsewhere, that I would ever want to marry!”

“Oh, not even Cedric?” Charlie asks with a small, triumphant grin.

Harry glowers at him in return. “As it happens, Cedric does not come from a great London family, thus Lord Riddle’s opinion would not matter. And besides,” he continues swiftly, eager to steer the conversation away from Cedric, “many of those families you speak of also greatly value Grandfather’s opinion, and he would never oppose to me marrying anyone I wanted. If it were my intention to marry,” he adds in a rush. “Which it is not.”

“Very well,” Charlie says with a solemn nod and laughter in his eyes.

Harry scowls some more, fully aware that his brother is mocking him, but his heart is much lighter now, and he feels such relief that he cannot remain irate very long.

“Do you believe Lord Riddle will tell Grandfather what happened?” he asks after a time.

Charlie ponders this. “Directly? No, I doubt it. Grandfather does not strike me as being particularly fond of Lord Riddle, nor do I believe that they run in the same circles. But it is quite possible that it will reach his ears by other means.”

“And do you believe he will be angry with me then?”

Charlie laughs this time. “I do not think it is in Grandfather’s power to be angry with you in any way. In fact, I believe he is physically unable to do such a thing.” He sighs and then takes on a more serious tone. “I dare not imagine how he would have reacted had he heard Lord Riddle speak to you in this manner.”

“I cannot believe he asked me if I had mated yet,” Harry mutters, his face heating up again with shame and anger.

“He knew you had not,” Charlie says angrily. “He only wanted to hear you say it.”

“Maxwell had warned me that he disliked Omegas, but I did not expect him to be so openly disapproving of me.”

“Grandfather says that powerful men often think themselves above the rules of decorum.”

“I can only be grateful that there were not many guests present to witness it,” Harry remarks.

“Regarding the guests,” Charlie says suddenly, “Mr Snape was not what I would have expected either.”

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asks, feigning confusion and disinterest by turning his attention to the dark landscape outside the window.

“He was quite different from the way you originally described him. I rather think it was gallant on his part to defend you so in front of his uncle. And he did not seem to despise you as much as you said. He did comment on your… how did he say it exactly? Your remarkable nature,” Charlie finishes with a smile. “He strikes me as quite a sensible man if only for his noticing this about you.”

Harry shrugs. “I believe it was only his hatred of his uncle that prompted him to oppose the man by defending me,” he says shortly.

He does not tell Charlie that the man has defended him before this evening, in front of his own friends, that time Miss Parkinson mocked Harry’s education and his family. He does not tell Charlie either that Mr Snape attempted to apologise to him at the ball at Longbottom Manor, but that Harry rudely rejected both his apology and his offer to dance. He does not tell him either about that time Mr Snape so discreetly insisted that Harry be provided with the carriage on that dreadful, fateful day when he suffered in silence. And most importantly, he does not tell Charlie that twice tonight Mr Snape has offered to have him taken home.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (1)

(Hey guys! I finally got around to posting the first chapter of this! I hope you guys enjoy it, and please tell me if you’d liked to be tagged or want to read more! there’s also a mini-series of Journal Entries connected to this fic.)

Ch.2

Chapter 1: Happy Accidents

Rosemary Highschool, a private school for the truly gifted and the rich. Anyone who attended this facility was either poised and reserved, or uptight, or all of the above. Therefore, when a stuttering, stumbling raven-haired girl came tripping through their doors, it was only natural that the students became curious.

Felix couldn’t care less, if he was being honest. The girl was just another student, and he had better things to do than waste his time meddling in the personal life of a complete stranger. 

His friends, however, did not share his sentiment. 

“Did you hear?” Allegra asked as they walked to their lockers, her sky blue eyes wide with delight. She leaned forward slightly to catch a better view of their expressions, causing her golden braid to fall gracefully over her left shoulder. 

“About the new student? Who didn’t?” Claude replied, wearing his usual grin. 

“How do you think she got in?” Allan wondered aloud, fixing the green cap on his head in thought.

Felix rolled his eyes. His friends had always loved picking up on the latest gossip. He never understood why. Take this new student, for example. She hasn’t even finished enrolling in the school yet, but everyone’s already chattering relentlessly about her. Why? Because she was rumored to be clumsy? That was hardly an achievement, let alone something to be talked about by the entire school. So what was all the fuss about?

Allegra gasped, a smile lighting up her soft features. “Oh! We should show her around! This school is huge, so she’ll definitely need a guide. Plus, we can get the first scoop on her.”

“Absolutely not.” Felix finally cut in, giving her a sharp look. He refused to galivant around the school with a complete stranger while his classmates tried to pry into the poor girl’s personal life. 

“We didn’t say you had to go.” Claude pointed out.

“But you should at least say hi.” Allegra hastily added, a motherly tone coming to her voice.

Felix scoffed. Right. He would say ‘hi’, then they would ‘convince’ him to stay- i.e. drag him by the collar -and he would end up going around the school with them anyway. He’d gotten used to their tricks by now.

Allan frowned in disapproval. “Come on, Fe. It’s the polite thing to do. We are her new classmates, after all.”

“Yeah, Fe, don’t be a jerk.”

“When am I ever not a jerk.” Felix retorted.

Claude smirked. “He’s got a point.”

“Felix.” Allegra pressed, fixing him with a stern glare and putting her hands on her hips.

Felix groaned, irritation prickling up to the forefront of his mind. What did it matter if he saw the new student? He wouldn’t be talking with her often, and they would probably meet later on during classes anyway. Why did they have to be so pushy?

He reached up to rub his temples and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t see them, it helped him imagine that they weren’t annoying him to the point of insanity. 

“Alright, fine, but if any of you-”

Felix barely registered the hit. He heard his friends gasp, and the sound of his books and pencils scattering across the floor, and he felt the dull pain of someone smacking into him before he unexpectedly hit the ground.

Then his ears tuned into a light, yet panicked voice.

“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I just did that- are you hurt? Do I need to call the nurse?”

Someone was talking to him. Well, they were more of rambling, really. 

“Pardon?” He said, interrupting the person’s ramble as he rubbed his back. He glanced up to see a young girl kneeling on the ground in front of him. She was scrambling around on the floor- gathering up his books, he realized -and appeared to be even more disoriented than he was.

His question spooked her, apparently, because she jumped, and her eyes darted upwards. They were an overwhelming blue, bright and sparkling despite being filled with anxiety at the moment. 

“I-I’m sorry!” She repeated, briefly setting the books down so she could nervously pull on the tips of her raven-colored pigtails.

Felix’s eyes widened. 

Raven.

Claude stifled a laugh behind him. 

“It’s not a problem.” Felix sighed, swiftly taking his books back from her and moving to retrieve the others. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. 

The ravenette furrowed her eyebrows, now bringing her hands down to play with the zipper of her black, half-sleeved jacket. “A-are you sure?”

He gave a short nod, scooping the rest of his books into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I ran into you. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry.” His tone was composed, calm, if only for the sake of dignity. Claude and Allegra were never going to let him live this down.

He picked up her small handbag, holding it out to her. “So, I apologize. I’ll be more careful next time, and I am willing to replace anything of yours that is broken.” 

A wash of color came to her cheeks.

“Oh, That- that won’t be necessary, thank you.” She insured, taking the purse and clutching it to her chest.

Felix didn’t reply, instead using the brief pause to look her over. With her light pink capris and child-like pigtails, she didn’t exactly give off the impression of being rich or poised. Perhaps a relative bought her tuition? That’s happened before. 

“Aw, look! Felix made a friend!” Claude’s snide remark broke Felix from his thoughts, and he shot the brunette a glare. That clown can never keep his mouth shut.

Allegra pushed past the two and extended a hand to the girl just as they got to their feet. “Hi! I’m Allegra. What’s your name?”

The girl smiled- which Felix found surprisingly pleasant -and took her hand. “Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Like the doll?” Allan asked curiously, stepping forward as well.

“Sort of, yes.” 

“That’s pretty cool. I’m Allan, by the way.” He introduced himself, also shaking her hand. He then pointed behind him, towards Claude and Felix. “The one in the blue striped shirt is Claude, and the stiff board you just ran into is Felix.”

Felix hunched his shoulders slightly, a scowl tugging at the corner of his lips, but Marinette only laughed. It oddly reminded him of the sound of tinkling bells. 

“You’re new here, right?” Allegra asked before Felix could snark off to Allan. “Mind if we show you around?”

A sigh of relief tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “Please do. This place is like a maze!”

Claude chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll make your head spin. We-”

“-Can start with the cafeteria.” Felix interrupted. The sooner they could start the tour, the sooner he could go home. “Then we’ll work our way around the classrooms.”

He spun on his heel, ignoring his friends’ smug smiles, and marched off. It wouldn’t take long for them to follow.

Allan was the first to catch up, throwing Felix a sly smirk as he whispered, “I thought you said you weren’t going to show her around.”

Felix shrugged. If he was going to suffer through the embarrassment of running into somebody, he might as well get something out of it. He would take her on a quick tour, and perhaps his friends wouldn’t feel the need to meddle in his social life for at least another month.

“We’re her new classmates, right?” He said. “We should exercise basic politeness and guide her through the school.”

Allan hummed. “Sounds like good advice. I wonder who could’ve told you that.”

“The name escapes me.” Felix replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He stole a glance over his shoulder to the rest of the group. Marinette was talking cheerfully with Allegra now, her previous show of anxiety all but gone. She even looked a bit confident with the tripping matter settled. Isn’t that strange?

“...What else do you know about her?”

~~~~~~

When Maman suggested that Marinette start attending Rosemary Highschool, reluctance couldn’t begin to express how she’d felt. She’d heard the rumors, how the kids were spoiled, snobby brats, how the classes were just a room full of fancy trinkets to keep the kids satisfied for a while. Marinette honestly didn’t want any part of it, but at that point, any school was better than her old school. She simply couldn’t stand Lila’s schemes anymore, nor Adrien’s relentless pursuit of having them get along. As bad as Chloe’s bullying was, Marinette almost wished that she could go back to that time. At least then she’d still have friends. (Well, calling her old classmates “friends” would be over exaggerating now. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with getting bullied from everyone at school.)

Either way, Marinette chose Rosemary over Dupont in a heartbeat, despite her uneasiness, and found that it actually wasn’t all bad. The endless halls were a bit confusing, but the classes were more advanced than others had let on, and though a select few of the students could be considered snobbish, everyone else seemed quite nice. A small group even offered to show her around. (After she ran into their friend, that is. Only Marinette could make such an embarrassing introduction.)

“I think that covers everything.” The girl of the group, Allegra, said. “But in case you’re still confused, I have a map for you.”

“A map?” Marinette echoed. She didn’t think they presented those at the school, though they probably should.

Allegra nodded and pulled a folded piece of paper from her school bag. “Claude gets lost all the time. So I started making maps for him. I have multiple maps because- typical Claude -he loses the maps too.”

“How was I supposed to know that it got mixed in with my history homework?” Claude, obviously the jokester amongst them, defended with a flail of his arms.

“If you ever need help,” Allegra continued, ignoring Claude’s comment as she scribbled something on the map, “feel free to text me.” 

“Thank you so much.” Marinette smiled, peeking at the phone number that was now on the corner of the page.

“It’s the least we can do.” Allan, probably the most relaxed of the group, replied. 

“It’s not as complicated as it looks. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it within a week.” Ah, yes. Then there was Felix, the poor boy she’d run into earlier. He’d been extremely mature about the matter, even insisting that it was his fault and that he’d pay for any of her damaged belongings. Naturally, she refused the offer, but it was a thoughtful gesture nonetheless. 

“If not, you know where to find us.” Claude added, before scooping her hand into his and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “But I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to you finding me for non-school related purposes as well.” 

Allegra rolled her eyes with a sigh, and Allan pinched the bridge of his nose. Felix just scoffed, especially when Claude winked at the end. 

Jokester and flirt of the group. Marinette thought with a smirk. In one quick motion, she slipped her hand out of Claude’s grasp and pushed him away by the tip of his nose. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, flashing him a wry smile.

Claude stumbled back a step, clearly shocked by her reaction. Allan straight up laughed next to him, and Marinette, to her delight, caught a glimpse of Felix smirking.

“Oh, I like you.” Allegra snickered, slinging her arm over Marinette’s shoulders.

“So do I.” Claude grinned. 

Allan, once his laughs died down, stepped forward. “Do you mind if I give you my number too? I can’t imagine not hanging out with you now.”

Marinette blushed from the compliment, but nodded and handed him the paper. Claude eagerly jumped at the opportunity and wrote down his number too. Then the boys turned to Felix.

“What about you, Fe? Are you giving her your number now or are you gonna beg for it later?” Claude asked, his grin turning devilish.

Felix shot him a glare- which he apparently did quite often. “I don’t beg.”

Allegra- ever the patient friend -let out a huff and shoved the paper into his hands. “For Pete’s sake, Felix, just write your number on the dang paper.”

“O-Only if you want to.” Marinette interjected. She didn’t want to cause a fight amongst them on her first day.

Felix’s glare faded slightly at her input, and he sighed. 

“It’s fine. You would probably need it eventually, anyway.” He relented, plucking a pen out of his left vest pocket and jotting down his number on the paper too. Marinette smiled despite herself as she took the paper back. It was only her first day, but she’s already made four, lovely friends. She liked to think of that as a good sign.

“Have you gotten your class schedule, yet?” Allegra queried now that the phone number matter was settled.

Marinette shook her head. “I was actually trying to find it when I bumped into you guys.”

Claude snorted. “‘Bumped into’. Good one.”

Marinette giggled along with Allegra and Allan. She hadn’t meant it that way, but the irony was a bit humorous. 

“Let us walk you to the office.” Allan requested. “The school tends to overcomplicate things, class schedules included.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hold you guys up.”

Allegra waved her hand dismissively. “Classes are over for the day, and our drivers are paid to wait for us.”

Marinette furrowed her brows slightly. “Your drivers?"

“You know, the people who drive us to and from school and anywhere else we want to go.” Claude helpfully supplied.

So, like Gorilla. Marinette thought. It made sense. This was a school of kids who had fortunes of the same extent, if not greater than, the Agreste’s fortunes. If Adrien had a driver, then the students here would certainly have one too.

“You don’t have a driver, do you?” Allegra guessed.

Marinette glanced up at the blonde, a strange mix of surprised and embarrassed. Was it that obvious? Would it be weird in this school if she didn’t have a driver?

“Please don’t take that the wrong way.” Allegra rushed to add, noticing Marinette’s sheepish expression. “I’m just curious. We don’t get many students here who aren’t drowning in their own money.”

“That makes sense.” Marinette replied. The tuition for this school had been unbelievably high. “But no, I don’t have a driver. My family was granted an early scholarship for me to come here.”

Surprise flashed across the group’s faces, including Felix’s. 

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Claude muttered. 

Marinette shrank back slightly. “I-I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Allan cut her off. “We’re just impressed.”

“Getting a scholarship here isn’t easy.” Allegra explained. 

“I-It’s only in the fashion section.” Marinette admitted, fiddling with the ends of her bookbag.

Claude gasped, a sparkle coming to his chestnut eyes. "You're a fashion designer?!"

“Uh oh.” Allan smirked.

Allegra shot her an apologetic look. “I’d say that there’s an escape to this, but I don’t want to lie straight to your face on our first day of knowing each other.”

Marinette held back a smile. Did that mean she would lie to her face when they knew each other better?

“How many outfits have you designed? Can you sow outfits too? I’ve had a few ideas, but none of the other art students listen to me-” Comments and questions started spilling out of Claude left and right. Things about smeared pencil drawings, pricked fingers, and his strange obsession with ruffled, prince-like sleeves seemed to explode out of his mouth all at once. Marinette knew her rambles could fall on the fast side, but this was a whole other level. 

“I’d have to look through my notebook, but I think the ruffles are doable.” Marinette managed to say when Claude paused to take a breath.

“Really?!” He exclaimed, going so far as to clasp his hands together with a grin.

She nodded, smiling herself. “I’m not sure how princely sleeves would fair on modern sleeves, though. They’d look much nicer on a full prince costume.”

Claude’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You would design a full suit for me?”

“I can’t promise that the fabric will be of good quality when I sow it, but yeah.” 

Claude threw his fists in the air in celebration, and Allegra took the opportunity to lightly pull Marinette aside.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” She whispered. “Claude’s not going to be too disappointed if you decide to change your mind.”

Marinette’s smile softened. “Thanks, but I really don’t mind. I needed a new project to work on, anyway.” 

Allegra studied her for a moment, then smiled as well. “Well, if you’re sure. He’s going to send you cars full of fabric though.”

She laughed. “Guess I’ll tell Maman to start clearing out the guest room.”

~~~~~~

Felix stared at his book, rubbing the corner of the page between his thumb and index finger. His phone buzzed relentlessly beside him on the arm of his recliner, no doubt the group chat that he'd been roped into. It was chaotic enough when it was just Allegra, Allan, and Claude, but now that they've added Marinette to the group, Felix wondered if his phone would ever be silent again.

He supposed he should have known better than to assume they would show Marinette around the school and be done with her. Allegra, Allan, and Claude were always overly friendly. However, he also couldn’t say that he minded having her around either. At least, not for the time being. She was considerate enough not to push his buttons and lively enough to keep the others occupied. No more on-the-spot activities from Allegra and Claude to cure their boredom.

"They're chatty today." Bridgette, his mother, commented from the loveseat couch to his right.

Felix hummed in agreement. "A new student arrived at the school today."

"Is that what they're talking about?"

He shook his head. "It's who they're talking to. The leeches have already adopted her."

Bridgette chuckled. “You mean Allegra, Allan, and Claude?” 

“Who else insists on sticking to me like glue?” 

She tilted her head in a “True” gesture. “Who’s the new student?”

“Her name’s Marinette.” Felix answered, flipping the page of his book.

“Oh, that’s a unique name.” Bridgette replied thoughtfully.

Felix hummed in agreement. “She said it was supposed to be similar to the doll ‘Marionette’.” 

“You talked to her?” Bridgette asked, surprise lacing her tone.

Felix resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew she didn’t mean to sound patronizing, but sometimes her questions irked him. For example, why wouldn’t he talk to the new student if Allegra and the others were? Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy human interaction, there was still such a thing as common courtesy.

..Which he supposed he didn’t usually have either.

Okay, maybe her question was more reasonable than he originally thought.

“Yes, I actually ran into her while we were walking down the hall.” He finally said.

Bridgette tried- and failed -to hide her laugh. “You ran into someone? That’s not like you, Felix.”

Felix sighed, slipping a bookmark into his book so he could close it. “I’m aware. I was trying to ignore Allegra’s prodding when it happened.”

“I see. What did Marinette say?”

“She actually started apologizing.” Felix admitted. “Even though it was my fault, she picked up my books before tending to her own things and asked if I was alright.”

Bridgette smiled. “She sounds delightful.”

He nodded without thinking. “Allegra even invited her to our routine luncheon tomorrow.”

Felix missed the twinkle in his mother’s eyes as she said, “Wow, to your personal lunch? They must really enjoy her company. You’ll have to invite her over here sometime.”

“I’m sure Allegra will arrange it eventually.” Felix replied dismissively.

“Then I shall have to thank her when she does.” Bridgette remarked, standing up from the couch. Her fingers ruffled through his hair as she passed him. “I’m glad you had a good day at school, sweetheart.”

Felix almost objected, since he hadn’t necessarily claimed to have had a good day at school, but decided against it. There was no point in arguing, especially when his day had, in fact, been satisfactory. He’d met someone new, someone that intrigued him. (A rarity, indeed, but it was true.) In the short time they talked, Marinette had shown herself to be both kind and anxious, but also witty and confident. It was an interesting mixture that stuck out to him. What type of life must one live to create such a paradox of a personality?

Unfortunately, Allan and the others knew about as little as he did when it came to her. She was a new student that had a passion for fashion and a bright smile. That was all. This was why he’d elected to remain silent instead of sharply opposing Allegra’s inviting Marinette to their lunch. (The sly smiles that were thrown his way by Claude and Allan afterwards were above irritating, though.)

Nevertheless, Felix felt she was worth the teasing for now, because Marinette, in short, was a puzzle.

And Felix loved his puzzles.

[seasonofthewicth]

A Groovy Kind of Love - Epilogue

AN: It’s here... THE END!!! I’m almost sad to finish this fic off but I have absolutely loved writing it. Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged/commented/sent asks or spoke to me about this fic it means so much to me and I really appreciate you!!

warning: adult content ahead

previous chapter - masterlist - ao3

-- 

~1 year later~

“You need to rip the band-aid right off.”

Rowan could barely hold in his sigh at Lorcan’s pronouncement. He shared a look with Aedion who looked as baffled as Rowan felt. 

“What the fuck?” Aedion shook his head. “This is not the kind of thing you just ‘rip off’.”

“How do you have a girlfriend?” Fenrys’ bewildered voice came from Rowan’s side. 

Lorcan shrugged, unbothered by each of their reactions. “Don’t mess around. Just ask her, simple. Then it’s done.”

“Gods, above,” Rowan muttered. 

“I should never have asked you three, I should have gone to Aelin. Or even Dorian.” Aedion sighed before clasping his hands in front of himself. “Okay, serious suggestions only.”

“That was a serious suggestion.” Lorcan said, not attempting to hide his indignation. 

Aedion ignored him. “Fenrys go.”

The golden haired male took a moment to consider, barely holding back from stroking his chin as he considered the prompt. Of all of them, Fenrys had been in a relationship for the shortest amount of time, he and Dorian had only declared their relationship a few months earlier, even though Rowan knew things had been brewing for far longer. 

It was strange to think that all four of them were in committed relationships, especially as they all still lived in what had been the bachelor pad of their first apartment together.

Rowan would never admit it out loud, but he felt sentimental to the old loft, even with it’s broken window and ever leaking shower. The draughty exposed brick would always remind him of the parkour phase Aedion and Fenrys had gone through not long after they had moved in. They had taken every opportunity they could to throw themselves around the loft without any kind of skill and they had only stopped after their neighbour complained of unexplained banging noises.

The red stain on the hardwood floor, now covered by a blue bean bag chair, would always remind him of the time Aedion had brought home a girl who had–for reasons still unknown to Rowan–thrown a bottle of red wine at his head. None of them had bothered to clean the stain, in fact Lorcan had posed for a photo with it and Fenrys had framed it on their refrigerator where it had stayed for years. 

His main memory of their loft however, would always be their front door. The slab of wood, with it’s peeling grey paint and the lock that often stuck shut unless it was jiggled just so, would always remind him of Aelin. Rowan knew he wore a ridiculously soft smile at the thought, but he would always be grateful for the loft for bringing him to Aelin. Or more accurately, for bringing Aelin to him.

He swallowed the sly smirk that threatened at the memory of the time he had taken her against the door. She had wrapped her long legs around his waist as he had pounded into her and her nails had clawed his back as she had moaned in his ear. He had buried his teeth into her neck, savouring the salty and sweet taste of her skin on his tongue. He hadn’t been able to leave the loft without getting semi-hard for weeks. 

“What are your first memories of Lysandra?” Fenrys asked eventually, somehow pulling Rowan’s thoughts from Aelin. It was a difficult task, even over a year into their relationship Rowan was still completely enamoured. “If you want to go big you could do something to do with that, girls love sappy shit.”

Rowan smiled as Lorcan nodded solemnly, finally appearing to take Aedion’s request for help seriously. His best friend seemed to consider the suggestion, crossing his arms over his broad chest and surveying the three of them where they sat before him. 

“That could work.” He said slowly. 

“Great.” Fenrys grinned. “We need to brainstorm. What are your big moments with Lysandra? Like when did you and Lys first meet?”

Aedion shrugged again. “I knew of her for years through Aelin but I only remember meeting her properly when Aelin moved in.”

Fenrys’ enthusiasm was rapidly gaining momentum. “Right, and any special memories from then? Any big gestures you could make as a throwback?”

Aedion’s eyes widened before a burst of laughter sprung from his lips. Rowan shared a look with Lorcan who shrugged. 

“I told her I’d marry her then,” Aedion said, shaking his head and running a hand through his shoulder length hair. 

“What?” Rowan barked his disbelief.

“You’re not serious.” Even Fenrys seemed bewildered.

Aedion only laughed again. “I said ‘girl, imma marry you’.”

Rowan groaned as he lifted a hand to cup his forehead before dragging it down over his eyes. 

“You’re no better than him.” Fenrys said with a shake of his head as he gestured to Lorcan who did nothing but smirk back at him. 

Aedion flipped him off. “I don’t come close to his level of inadequacy, at least I can actively take steps towards relationship milestones. Have you even brought up moving in with Elide to her yet?”

Lorcan scowled, before muttering, “don’t change the subject.”

Aedion took a sharp intake of breath, reading himself to speak, and Rowan dragged his hand away from his eyes. There wasn’t time to let those two get into it.

“Not to in any way agree with Lorcan but I think he could have a point,” He said quickly. “You love her and want to marry her, tell her that. Down on one knee with the ring, I doubt she’d say no.”

Rowan knew his words were the truth. He had known Aedion for a decade now and he had never seen his best friend as smitten as he was with Lysandra, nor had he seen him so secure. Aedion and Lysandra played off each other, she settled him and he excited her. 

Rowan knew Lysandra would say yes but he understood Aedion’s need to over-prepare. While it was standard for Aedion to mull over the details, his mind was one for strategy and weighing-up the risks and it was part of what made him so good at his job, and Rowan knew that while this wasn’t a risk, it was important to his friend to get it right.

Proposing to Aelin was a thought that had drifted around the edges of Rowan’s mind for a while. From the start Rowan had known Aelin was it for him and he knew he wanted to marry her at some point in the future but the pressure of how to do it right, the way to make it right for Aelin was a task he knew he’d work hard on. 

He knew Aelin would say yes even if he asked her over a mouthful of food at their kitchen counter but he also knew that she was a princess at heart with a taste for finery and he wanted to spoil her. It was a luxury in itself for Rowan that he could. Since taking over the bar, even with the large loan he had taken out, his bank account had a healthy level of cushioning that he loved using to take Aelin for weekends away or to fancy restaurants. 

There was a savings account that he and Aelin threw money into every month for whenever they felt ready to move out of the loft, but there was also a separate savings account that Aelin was unaware of that Rowan was saving for something shiny. 

“Thanks,” Aedion said, shaking himself somewhat. Rowan nodded, amused at the level of detail and reassurance Aedion appeared to need.

“You need to relax,” Fenrys’ chimed in, voicing Rowan’s thoughts aloud. “You’re overthinking it.”

“He’s right.” Rowan swallowed. “Just tell her the truth. Tell her you love her, how much you want to spend the rest of your life with her and how much she makes you smile every day. Tell her how you want to be eighty and still holding her hand, or how you hate the thought of going a single day without her.”

“Gods,” Fenrys scoffed as Lorcan snickered. “You’re making me want to marry you.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “You’re welcome to take notes.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need to.”

“Really? Not thinking of getting down on one knee for Dorian?”

Fenrys smirked. “I get on my knees for Dorian plenty, but no.”

“Why not?” Rowan asked, ignoring the comment and daring to bite, knowing he’d likely regret it.

“He’ll be the one proposing to me,” Fenrys explained as if it were obvious.

Rowan laughed, Aedion and Lorcan’s laughter echoing his own.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Fenrys turned to Lorcan. “Your proposal skills need some serious work.”

Lorcan shrugged, unfazed as ever. “Maybe I’ll let Elide propose to me too.”

Rowan snickered at the image of the tiny woman on one knee before his giant of a friend. He sobered when he paused to consider it, Elide probably was the kind of woman who could propose to Lorcan, she had him wrapped completely around her little finger. 

“I can see it.”

“She takes what she wants, it’s hot.”

Rowan laughed again. “You could take her name too, Lorcan Lochan has a good ring to it.”

Fenrys’ howl of laughter from his side brought a grin to Rowan’s lips as he looked to his friend who’s eyes darkened at the ribbing. 

“Lorcan Lochan,�� Aedion repeated through a laugh. “Please, I’d pay money to see it.”

Rowan smiled as his friends continued their teasing and his mind wandered through the possibilities. Aelin had a number of surnames already but he quite liked the sound of Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. 

-- 

“You are not allowed to move in here.”

The panic in Lysandra’s green eyes as she hurtled around the corner was almost comical. 

“Why not? What’s wrong?” She demanded.

Aelin ran a thoughtful finger along the sleek, oak mantelpiece admiring each of the twisting lines running through the wood. To the side of the fireplace sat a tall window, letting in plenty of warm daylight that reflected off the shining hardwood floors and crept into each of the corners of the large room. The archway Lysandra stood under led to the open plan kitchen-diner with it’s sleek marble countertops and extended dining table that could seat their whole group of friends. 

“If you move in here I’ll be too jealous.”

Lysandra slumped in relief, leaning a shoulder against the archway as she smiled. “He’s done well.”

“I didn’t know Aedion had this in him,” Aelin said with a snort and Lysandra waved a hand. 

“He has spent months putting it together,” her friend admitted and Aelin smirked. 

“How much did he let you choose?”

Lysandra winced. “It was fifty-fifty.”

Aelin waited. 

“Forty-sixty.”

Aelin only cocked her head as she waited a moment longer. 

“I won’t go any lower than thirty-five. And I picked the paint for the bathroom walls.”

Aelin’s poker face cracked at her friend’s admission. She knew her cousin wanted their house to be perfect but he had taken his attention to detail to the extreme. The number of interior design magazines that were littering the coffee table in the loft was well into double figures and Aelin had been dragged on multiple trips to a number of shops to offer her opinion on almost identical shades of paint and patterned wallpapers. Lysandra had been content to sit back and let her boyfriend take the reins, confident that Aedion would choose well. 

He had. The house was beautiful, and the dedication her cousin had offered was obvious. Each room had a multitude of tiny details that revealed the love Aedion had poured into the house, in the kitchen it was the large window that overlooked their garden, offering a glance at the wildlife that flocked to the numerous native plants Aedion had selected. In the living room it was the stuffed bookshelves, housing almost anything from Aedion’s old college textbooks to Lysandra’s abundance of romance novels. 

Aelin’s favourite was the study her cousin had decorated for Lysandra to house her newly developed modelling agency. Lysandra had chosen more recently to take a step away from posing in front of the camera and had opted to manage a small group of models. The office was bright and welcoming, with splashes of soft green accents that suited Lysandra. The office sat next door to a room that was carefully neutral, but Aelin knew it wouldn’t take much work for it to be converted into a nursery. 

Aelin took another glance around the living room they stood in, Aedion had truly curated a home. She could see herself and Rowan curled up on the loveseat in the corner with Aedion on the armchair by the fire and Lysandra perched in his lap. She could hear the sounds of Fenrys rummaging through their fridge as Lorcan barked orders from his space on the sofa. 

Aelin was going to miss having them all under one roof, even if it meant her and Rowan having the loft to themselves. But she knew that as quiet as the loft would feel without the others, she was excited to make the space their own. And to get some much awaited privacy. 

Lysandra watched her with knowing eyes as she surveyed the space. “You’ll all be welcome any time to come and visit.” 

Lysandra plopped down onto the plush couch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she settled into the pliant cushions. Aelin took the seat opposite, throwing her feet onto the footstool set carefully in front of the sofa. 

“Just make sure your doors are locked at night, I think Fenrys could take your open door policy a little too liberally.”

Lysandra shook her head. “I’m not sure Aedion would mind, he’ll pretend he won’t but he’ll miss having the guys around. He’ll give them all a key.”

“What about me?” Aelin gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest. Lysandra rolled her eyes as she settled further into their couch, it was an agreement that didn’t need to be stated that Aelin would get her own key to the new house. “I’m glad you’re not living with Blackbeak anymore.”

Lysandra’s eyes stayed shut as she laughed. “She’s really not that bad. You’d know if you ever bothered to get to know her the entire time I lived with her.”

“Lys, she’s awful. She’d strut about as if she was the queen or something whenever I came around. Making sly comments to… I don’t know,” Aelin waved a hand, searching for the words. “Assert her dominance or something.”

Lysandra cracked her eyes open to level Aelin with an unimpressed stare. “And you wouldn’t?”

Aelin shrugged, whatever displays she and Manon had put on were in the past. Hopefully she’d never have to see the scarily beautiful woman again. “I’m your best friend, I don’t need to try and posture.”

Lysandra grinned. “And yet you do anyway.”

Aelin stuck her tongue out at her friend, knowing the comment was too true to justify a middle finger. Her phone buzzed in her lap, signifying the text Aelin had been waiting for.

I’m 5 minutes away.

Aelin fought to keep her face neutral as she tucked the phone back into the pocket of her jeans and stood from her comfortable seat on the couch. 

“You’re leaving?”

Aelin nodded, “Rowan just texted, he needs help with something at the bar.” A lie. “Meet us there later after the delivery has come?”

A serious invitation hidden within a number of half truths.

Lysandra dipped her head in a nod as Aelin swept to the front door, calling out her parting words as she did.

Once out the front door she allowed her smile to break through and it widened again as she spotted her cousin walking up the path in front of her. Aedion wore a shirt, and his golden hair was carefully styled. He was practically vibrating with excitement as he approached her.

“Good luck,” she whispered, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

“I don’t need it.” Aedion flashed an easy grin before wrapping one arm easily around her. “Thanks, Ae.”

Aelin drew back soon after. “Don’t make us wait too long to see you guys.”

Aedion only smirked.

“Gross,” Aelin couldn’t help screwing her eyes shut before turning away to make her exit. She flashed her cousin a final thumbs up as she got into her car and headed to where she knew she would find her boyfriend.

— 

Rowan hadn’t changed much when he had taken over the bar, but what he had changed made it even more enjoyable. The first thing he had done was replace the ancient jukebox in the corner, he had replaced the jukebox with one that didn’t need to be turned off and on again every fifteen songs and had updated some of the music in its catalogue. 

Each of their loft-mates had been allowed to offer suggestions for the updated library and Rowan had criticised every single one, his own music taste leaned into older rock songs Aelin had never heard, but the choices had all made their way in there anyway. 

All apart from Lysandra’s only half-joking suggestion of a best-of-boy-bands compilation. That suggestion had received a hard no.

One of Lorcan’s choices, some alternative track with lots of drums, was playing as she made her way to the small office in the back corner of the bar. She nodded at the bartender who nodded back with a soft smile. He was a young man called Luca and he had been recommended by Malakai upon his exit. Aelin liked him, he was young and sweet but competent enough to make a mean drink.

She pushed through the door to the office and smiled as she took in the sight of her boyfriend. Even just the sight of him made her smile, and he smiled back as he dropped the papers he held. 

Aelin flopped into Rowan’s lap, looping her arms around his neck as he leant in to kiss her. Even the softest brush of his lips against her own loosened every muscle in her body.

“Hey,” he murmured against her lips, unable to resist pressing another kiss to them. 

“Hi.”

“Missed you.”

Rowan shared comments like that with a regularity that made her heart squeeze. Each one brought a kernel of warmth to her chest. 

“You saw me this morning.”

“And?” His gaze was unwavering, and his sincerity made Aelin bite her lip. 

“Everything all set for Aedion and Lysandra?” He asked smoothly. 

“I left just as he arrived,” Aelin confirmed.

Rowan ran a gentle hand up and down her side as he spoke. “I’ll be relieved when it’s over and he’s finally asked her. I can’t give any more thought to the best way to propose to Lysandra.”

Aelin snorted as she pressed a kiss to his temple. She loved that her friends and family were all so intertwined. “He’s nervous, give him a break.”

“Why?” Rowan asked. “She’ll obviously say yes.”

Aelin cocked an eyebrow. “And you wouldn’t be nervous if you were proposing to the love of your life?”

Rowan shrugged. “Nope. I’m sure she’ll be very lovely and not at all scary. I’d have no doubt in my mind she’d say yes.”

She pinched the skin of his bicep and he hissed a laugh through his teeth. 

“I can go if you need to find someone sweet.”

Aelin made to move off his lap but his hands tightened around her. “Don’t you dare.”

He skimmed his nose around her hairline, brushing the gentlest of kisses to her ear. A soft gasp crossed her lips at the sensation. Aelin leaned into the warmth of his hands at her hips and the touch of his lips at her neck as she turned to survey his desk. 

“Working hard?” She asked playfully and Rowan buried his face in her neck and groaned. She ignored the heat that stirred in her at the sound and laughed as she petted his hair. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Invoicing is the worst. I have no idea how Malakai did it all on his own for so long, I don’t know how I haven’t made a catastrophic error yet.” Her boyfriend’s eyes widened. “Would I know if I had?”

Aelin laughed. Rowan worked hard and Aelin was confident he was handling the management of the bar well even if Rowan himself wasn’t. Financially there were no problems, the re-branding that had taken place after Rowan had assumed ownership had managed to attract a number of new regulars as well as large numbers of casual visitors that kept the bar easily filled with patrons. 

One night, not long after Rowan had signed the papers giving him majority ownership, Fenrys had suggested a weekly karaoke night. The idea had started out as a joke until Elide had brought her tiny karaoke machine one evening and the bar had ended up packed with people cheering others on, so much so that Rowan had invested in a proper system and every Thursday hosted a karaoke night. 

“Anything I can do to make it easier?” Aelin asked, scratching her nails against Rowan’s scalp. 

He groaned again at the sensation and this time it was harder to ignore the heat stirring in her core. He looked up to her, his fingers curling more tightly around her hips, as his tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip. 

“Do you know anything about accounting?”

Aelin laughed again. 

“Absolutely not, but I know a lot about relieving stress.” She shifted where she sat in his lap, making sure to grind her backside against his groin. “And I have many techniques that I know are effective in releasing pressure.”

Rowan let out a deep, throaty sound at her words, pulling her hips down as he leant in to kiss her neck. 

The start of their relationship had been a blur of passion. About a month into their relationship Aedion had attempted an intervention when he had walked in on them in a state of undress for the third time in a week, and Aelin loved that it hadn’t faded. She wanted Rowan every single time she was so much as in the same room as him, and even when she wasn’t. 

Aelin tugged at the silver strands of Rowan’s hair as he trailed hot, wet kisses down her throat. She gasped as he scraped his teeth down across her jawline to nip lightly at her pulse point. She shifted impatiently in his lap and tugged his face up by his hair to press her lips to his.

His tongue caressed her lower lip and she eagerly opened to let him lick into her mouth. Each stroke of his tongue set her skin on fire and it wasn’t long until she was writhing in his lap.

“We don’t have long until the others are due.” Rowan slid his face back down to her neck, unable to draw his lips away from her skin. 

“We have enough time if we’re quick.” Aelin heard the desperation in her voice, and Rowan did too if the way he rocked her across his lap was any indication. 

“I don’t want to rush,” He said, his voice a low growl in his throat. “I want to take my time with you.”

“And you can.” Aelin pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Later. First let me be quick with you.”

Aelin stood off his lap and Rowan moaned his disappointment until she leaned back in to caress her hand over the bulge in his jeans. His head rolled back as his eyes fluttered shut and his hips jerked into her hand. 

Aelin loved having Rowan at her mercy like this, usually he was the one who liked to take his time and watch her fall apart under his teeth and tongue until she was shaking and gasping his name, but Aelin loved to take care of him too. 

She slid to her knees between his thighs and ran her hands up the thick muscles she felt straining against the desire to take her. She knew they didn’t have long so she wasted no time before unzipping his jeans and sliding a hand beneath. 

Rowan’s head fell backwards against the back of his chair as her hand dipped into his boxers. Aelin bit her lip at the feeling of him, already hard and heavy in her hand. She gave a few pumps of her hand, enjoying the catch in his throat as she did, before tugging him out of his trousers. 

Aelin trailed her hand along the length before wrapping her hand tighter and twisting slightly the way she knew he liked, enjoying the way his hips jerked off the chair slightly. She pressed her free hand to his hip, holding him in place as she leaned in to run her tongue up from his base to tip. At the first touch of her tongue his hips jerked forward and his hand slid into her hair.

“Easy,” She chided with a wicked smile. Aelin loved the way he reacted to her, the slightest touch would have him solid beneath her and kissing her forcefully the way she liked.

Rowan brushed his free hand along her cheek, before tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. 

“Beautiful,” He murmured, his voice low and thick with arousal. Aelin smiled up at him as she worked her hand again, and she let her gaze fall to where she held him, enjoying the contrast of her red nail polish against his skin.

He let out a curse under his breath as she leant in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along his considerable length. His hand twisted more securely into her hair as she took him fully into her mouth, using her hand to work the base. He didn’t force her head, which she appreciated, but she loved the feeling of his hand holding her to him as she moved. 

Aelin felt her eyes flutter shut, she loved doing this for Rowan, it made her feel sexy and the sounds he made were hotter than anything.

“Fuck,” He hissed. “You look so good like that.”

Aelin moaned, breathing in deeply through her nose as she bobbed her head. She loved how vocal Rowan was, how he would curse her name and anything he could think of as she worked her mouth around him. 

She pulled back to press her tongue right under the tip, the way she knew sent him wild, and she was rewarded with a sharp thrust of his hips. She looked up to him finding his deep green eyes blown with lust as she swallowed around him. She read the question in his eyes and nodded as best as she could. 

Rowan let out a groan. “Gods, I love you.”

His thumb trailed the corner of her lips as they stretched around him before sliding to join his other in her hair. Aelin moaned as he began to fuck her mouth, lifting his hips in a torturously slow rhythm that had Aelin grinding her hips against the air. 

His pace increased as his hands twisted more tightly into her hair. Aelin moaned around his cock and he hissed a breath at the sensation. She slid her free hand down into her own jeans, matching her own strokes with Rowan’s thrusts and it wasn’t long until she felt her own climax building. 

“Aelin,” Rowan cursed. “Oh, fuck.” 

His eyes screwed shut tightly as his hips stuttered, Aelin moaned her permission as she stroked herself even faster. She was close, and the pulling of her hair combined with the hard thrusts into her mouth, timed perfectly with her own fingers, sent her quickly to a climax. Rowan’s hips jerked as he groaned, his head tipping to the side as he gasped her name. 

“Gods.” His chest heaved as his jaw strained. “Fuck, Aelin I-I’m close.”

Aelin met his gaze and offered a shallow dip of her chin. Rowan clenched his jaw and screwed his eyes shut, each muscle in his powerful body straining beneath the touch of her tongue.

He spilled into her mouth with a groan, and Aelin swallowed around him, allowing her tongue to coax him along. He gave a few final shallow thrusts as he settled back into his chair, his eyes blinking open slowly to meet her own. 

Aelin slid her hand out of her trousers as she drew her lips off him. She tucked his still half-hard cock back into his jeans and stood to press her lips to his, revelling in the blissed out expression on his handsome face. She crawled back onto his lap as his breathing evened out. 

Finally, he blinked his eyes open and brought her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers. 

“You’re phenomenal, thank you,” He said, his voice still breathy. “But you did my job for me.”

Aelin smiled at the disappointed tone in his voice before she pressed her lips to his once more. “You can make it up to me later.” 

He cocked a brow in a way that she knew meant he wanted to splay her out on this desk and taste her the way she had tasted him, but at that moment her phone chose to buzz. The second signal of the day. 

“We have to go,” She said, beginning to slide off his lap. “We have a pair of fiancés to congratulate.” 

Rowan grinned, a crooked flash of his teeth. “How long, do you think, until he asks me to be his best man?”

“I think he’ll ask Lorcan.” 

“Right,” He grinned. “And Manon Blackbeak will be Lysandra’s maid of honour I assume.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.”

“I think you’d prefer me being the maid of honour to your best man, much more than Manon. If it’s Manon your night won’t end up like today.”

He cocked a brow. 

“You know, it’s tradition for the best man and maid of honour to hook-up in the bathroom and Manon would bite your dick off before she blew you.”

The fear in Rowan’s eyes drew a cackle from her chest. 

“Don’t worry,” She patted his cheek with a hand before fully rising to her feet. “I’d protect you from the evil witch.”

Rowan smiled as she pulled him to his feet. 

“And then I’d definitely blow you in the bathroom.”

“You’re filthy.”

“You love it.”

Rowan nodded, a sincere light in his eyes. “I do.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders as they made their way out into the main part of the bar to discover their friends already gathered in a booth. Lysandra sat in the center as Elide examined the sparkling diamond now gracing her left hand, Lorcan frowned at the same ring and Aelin barely managed to conceal her snort at the sight. She was sure Lorcan would get there someday, but she’d enjoy his discomfort in the meantime. 

Aelin snuck out from under Rowan’s arm to throw her own around Aedion and Lysandra, unintelligibly cooing her congratulations and excitement. It was almost hard to believe sometimes, that her cousin and her best friend were together and now getting married. 

“Nice of you to join us,” Fenrys snarked as she released her friend and collapsed onto Rowan’s lap. Aelin flipped him off, despite the wide grin she wore. 

“We were barely late, we had things to finish off.”

Aedion winced as Lysandra and Fenrys cackled. Rowan hid his smile in her shoulder but she could feel his body shaking with laughter beneath her.

“Tell us more about these things you were finishing off Aelin.” Elide had a wicked glint in her eye.

“Please don’t.” Aedion sounded pained and even Lorcan grinned. 

The booth was filled with her friends and roommates and Aelin wasn’t complaining as Rowan slung his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to his chest. Aelin pressed both of her palms to the table as she surveyed the group. 

“I propose a toast,” she said. “To the happy couple.” 

She made a gesture to Luca who flashed her a thumbs up and immediately made to collect enough glasses for the group. 

“On the house I hope,” Lorcan quipped as Luca brought over a couple of bottles of champagne.

“When do any of you pay for drinks in here?” Rowan questioned as the group laughed. 

Aelin leaned back into Rowan and lifted her glass in a toast. The sounds of her friends bickering wasn’t enough to damper the happiness she felt for Aedion and Lysandra, and the old Phil Collins song playing on the jukebox only added to the contentment she felt sitting in Rowan’s lap surrounded by her friends. 

--

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen

@maybekindasortaace

@slytheringalathynius

@http-itsrebecca

@morganofthewildfire

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@fictional-horan

@dressedindustandshadows

@sleeping-and-books

@perseusannabeth

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

@woollycat22

@claralady

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

@fangirlprincess09

@darlinminds

@thenerdandfandoms

@danibutterr

@inthecityair

@autophobiaxx

@imaginedhaven

@endlessdaydream - I’m having an issue with this tag not sure why :(

@rowaelinismyotp​

Thank you!

[bytheangell]

Reclaiming Power

(S02E13 inspired fic) (Read on AO3)

There’s a knock on the door of Jace’s room and he knows who’s on the other side even before Alec’s voice calls hesitantly through the wooden barrier between them.

“Jace? Are you in there?”

Jace considers not answering. He’s avoided Alec all day since Imogen told him that he was going to be named the replacement Head of the Institute. He knows he has to tell Alec at some point - sooner rather than later, since Alec deserves to know before it’s announced to the entirety of the Institute the next day. The problem is that Jace doesn’t know how he’s going to look Alec in the eye and break the news.

“Jace?”

Jace sighs. “Yeah,” he answers, still making no move to get up and open the door.

“...can I come in?” Alec adds, sounding even more uncertain. Jace wonders how much of his anxiety is coming through the bond for Alec to feel.

“Yeah,” Jace repeats, this time standing up and walking over to unlock and open the door.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asks before he even clears the doorframe, and Jace winces. Not ‘how are you?’ or even an ‘are you okay?’, but straight to ‘what’s wrong?’, implying he already knows that something is wrong. Of course, he does.

“That obvious?” Jace stalls, wandering over to the window so his back is to Alec. He hates this. he hates this so goddamn much.

Alec doesn’t comment. Instead, he closes the door behind him before sitting down on the edge of Jace’s bed in a clear sign that he isn’t going anywhere until they talk, no matter how long that ends up being. Jace isn’t naive enough to think he can wait this out - on some of Jace’s more stubborn nights Alec has sat in silence for hours until Jace was ready to talk about whatever was on his mind.

The silence stretches between them for a minute, and then two, and into a third before Jace finally speaks.

“It should be you, Alec. I told Imogen it should be you, but she wouldn’t listen.” Jace still can’t bring himself to say the words, like maybe if he can avoid speaking the title aloud it might be less real.

“What should be-” Alec starts, confused without any context, then trails off. Jace is still facing away from him but he can picture the look of recognition that crosses Alec’s face as his parabatai finishes that thought with a quiet, “Oh.”

Worse, Jace feels a flash of disappointment across their bond before Alec manages to reel it back in.

“Congratulations, Jace.”

“No,” Jace shakes his head. “We’re not celebrating this. I don’t deserve it. You do.”

There’s the sound of shuffling behind him, booted footsteps that stop only inches away before Alec’s arms slide around his waist, pulling Jace back against his chest. The touch, the pressure of Alec’s gentle but firm embrace, grounds him from the spiral he was about to enter - the same one he’s experienced more often than not during the majority of the day.

“This isn’t your fault,” Alec reassures him. “We both know that position was yours from the moment the world found out you’re a Herondale.”

It’s true. Not too long ago, when everyone thought he was a Morgenstern, Imogen would’ve as easily seen him returned to the Clave dead as she would’ve alive. Now she’s just as quick to appoint him the Head of an entire Institute, all because of a father he never met and a bloodline he feels no allegiance to.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be a Herondale,” Jace mutters. “I’m a Lightwood. And if this Institute goes to a Lightwood, it should be you, not me.”

Jace feels the rise and fall of Alec’s shoulders against his back when he shrugs. “If it makes you feel any better, even if it wasn’t you, I still don’t think it’d be me. Not after… everything.”

‘Everything’ being walking out of his own wedding to be with Magnus, and Madzie breaking into the Institute for Valentine, and the demon possessions, and his parents’ history with the Circle… though they both know all of that is just an excuse to punish him for choosing Magnus over one of their own and showing sympathy toward Downworlders.

“Not really.” Unsurprisingly, that doesn’t make Jace feel any better. In fact, it only makes him feel worse for fitting so seamlessly into this broken system of theirs as a perfect soldier. Jace pulls away from Alec and sits on the edge of his bed. Alec follows close behind, sitting next to him a moment later.

“You’re going to be a great Head,” Alec says. “And I’ll have your back every step of the way. You can do this.”

As comforting as it is to hear Alec’s reassurances, Jace doesn’t doubt that he can do this. He’s a smooth talker, a skilled fighter, and one of the best soldiers of their generation. He can give orders as well as he follows them... when he feels like it. And he’s never backed down from a challenge, especially when his personal reputation is on the line. No, he’s positive he can do this, but that isn’t the point.

“Sure I can, but I shouldn’t have to,” Jace sighs, sounding defeated. Talking about it isn’t helping, especially since there’s nothing either of them can do about it. “It isn’t fair.”

Alec shrugs again, looking about as helpless as Jace feels. “What about our lives has ever been fair?”

---

This is ridiculous. The longer Jace stands in front of Imogen as she addresses the Shadowhunters the more he fights the urge to simply walk away before she can announce him the future Head. He shouldn’t be here. Looking at the faces of Shadowhunters much better equipped to run an Institute than him, he knows there’s a very long list of people who should be in his place right now… and he knows that Alec is at the top of that list.

He woke up resigned to playing out this blatant favoritism because he couldn’t imagine what else he could do at this point, but at this moment he has a sudden flash of inspiration… or insanity, depending on how it plays out. Jace figures he’ll find out which way the scales tip soon enough.

“In this time of crisis, it is essential that we maintain strong leadership. That is why-”

“Actually, if I may?” Jace says suddenly, interrupting Imogen with a disarming smile, not giving her a chance to answer one way or the other before turning back to speak to the Shadowhunters gathered before him. “This Institute has been through a lot lately. These most recent attacks on Shadowhunters notwithstanding, we’ve been tried and tested time and time again the past few weeks. And, time and time again, one of us has risen to the occasion and proven himself a true and dedicated Shadowhunter, son, brother, and most of all, trusted leader of our people.”

At this point Imogen realizes what he’s doing, and moves to stop him, eyes wide in a satisfying mixture of panic and anger. “Jace-”

“And after sharing my opinion, Imogen agreed. That’s why it is our honor to name Alexander Gideon Lightwood Head of the New York Institute.”

Applause mixes with murmurs with all eyes darting from Jace to Imogen to Alec. Alec, to his credit, keeps a mostly neutral expression despite the surprise and hint of panic Jace feels spike in their bond. After the clapping dies down all eyes turn back to Imogen. For a moment he’s afraid she’s going to take back everything he said, but then he watches as the flash of anger from before melts into a bitter resignation, lips pursed tight. Jace knows the position he’s put her in - if she calls Jace a liar now, she ruins his credibility. No one will know whether they can believe him or trust any order that comes from him.

He’s left her with no choice, not if they both want to come out of this with their heads held high and Jace’s newly established association to the Herondale name a respectable one.

“Yes. As my grandson so generously stated, there’s no one else better suited to run this institute than Mr. Lightwood, who will take over upon my departure back to Idris,” Imogen says. Jace breathes a sigh of relief.

“Dismissed.”

Jace tries to make a beeline for Alec, but a firm grip on his shoulder stops him dead in his tracks. “Not you,” Imogen says, her voice low so only he can hear. She waits until everyone else has scattered before speaking again. “What do you think you’re doing, pulling a stunt like that?”

“Giving this Institute the leadership it deserves,” Jace says. “We both know it. And don’t worry, when he’s the best Head the New York Institute’s ever had, you’ll get all the credit for appointing him. It’s a win-win.”

“We’ll see about that,” Imogen mutters, turning to leave in a huff.

Alec is by Jace’s side in seconds.

“What the hell was that, Jace?!”

“That was me stopping Imogen from making a huge mistake. Congratulations,” Jace says, an echo of Alec’s sentiment from the night before. Except this time the word is full of nothing but genuine joy - no hesitation, no disappointment.

“There’s no way she’s going to let that stand,” Alec insists.

“Sure she will. She can’t go back on it now. In a few days, you’re going to be right where you deserved to be all along. I meant every word of what I said up there, too. You’ve earned this,” Jace says, clapping Alec on the back.

He hopes Alec believes him. This isn’t just some ‘spit in the face of authority’ move, or a selfish desire to avoid responsibility and paperwork. Alec deserves this, and Jace wants nothing more than for Alec to get everything he deserves in this life and beyond. After two decades of constantly drawing the short straw, he’s earned this chance to properly show everyone else what Jace already knows: that he’s damn good at what he does.

Alec returns the motion, pulling Jace into a quick hug. “Thanks, Jace.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jace grins. “Now c’mon, boss, let’s get back to work. We’ve got a rogue warlock to track.”

[ex-silent-reader]

Happy Holidays fic recs

Happy Holidays everybody!  I haven’t been commenting on posts individually like i normally like to so it’s kind of backed up a bit. I still really want to thank all the authors who have been sharing their stories with us and leave a lil itty bitty comment before I can expand on them for their own post so here’s that! Also I’ve seen a lot of undeserved negativity being spread to a lot of authors and I just want to thank you all for sharing your work on this platform FOR FREE and remind you that you literally owe us nothing and I’m super grateful that you continue to share with us. These are just some stories that I’ve read this week, i’d def like to do another of these soon :)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of these stories, each story is owned by the author tagged next to the title and the summary is pulled verbatim from their page, in quotation marks. The only thing I own is gratitude towards these authors for sharing their work with us.

Also all stories are rated M 

Also, a loooot of stories have come out lately and I haven’t had a chance to get to a lot of them yet but i hope to soon so I’ll hopefully make another one of these soon, but yea pls know that I’m not purposefully ignoring or excluding anything or anyone.

Jin;

last christmas | ksj x reader - @xjoonchildx

“ summary: it was bound to happen, eventually. after months of near misses at barbecues and birthdays, there’s no avoiding your ex-husband at hoseok’s annual christmas bash. but it’s fine, totally fine, because you’re both adults – and you’ve both brought dates and booze. what could go wrong? “

This story was amazing! First of all, I love the comedy surrounding the entire situation, Hobi with his 8 trees and instigator Yoongi who also wants them to get their shit together for Hobi’s sake. I love all au’s but sometimes exes to lovers is difficult for me to side with because I don’t see how people can bounce back from so much hurt but in this story it felt very natural how they were able to find their way back together and I really enjoyed the insight to their relationship, especially near the end.

Yoongi;

CREAM & SUGA -  @snackhobi

“summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.”

Ya’ll. Yoongi fics just truly hit different. The plot of this was so adorable and him going out of his way like that to keep her engaged was so cute and just very Yoongi like. I also just really loved the descriptions in this, like how oc described making the drinks, it just made everything seem so real.

universe | myg drabble - @personasintro

                           “❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; you’re his whole universe, you just don’t know it yet – or him” 

ASDFGHJKL! Like, I really have no words for the way this made me feel. Like, ik it’s not a super healthy dynamic but the thought of a fixated Yoongi is.. I loved reading Yoongi being so fixated with oc and doing everything i his capability to meet her. I also was v interested in the part where he bumped into her and she didn’t react the way he expected because it made me think about how he (or any character’s with his mindset) cope when the fantast and reality don’t match.

Hobi;

 A Holly, Jolly Crisis (M) -  @kpopfanfictrash

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

This story made me feel so many things. Like there’s so many layers to it and both of their hurt, her visiting him and feeling betrayed while he felt pushed aside. This story was so complex and both characters had so many layers to them, but it’s still sooo well written and I was invested the entire time. Like, I genuinely can’t get my feelings out in a brief way so I’m looking forward to screaming about this in it’s own post.

Joonie;

 my only wish - knj | m - @ppersonna

“✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug. “

UM! Absolutely adored this story, of course it would be a fellow cream suit enthusiast who can bring so much justice to dreamy Joon. I loved how he was portrayed here and getting insight to both his and oc’s feelings made me root for them soooo hard.

new parent syndrome - @1kook

“ SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)”

The tag “dreamy husband joon” is extremelyyyy accurate. This story was just so cute and their relationship truly felt so intimate and lovely. Her being on the phone with Jimin while Joon was smash SENT me but it was also so hot like ASDFGHJKL that man can do no wrong tbh.

  laundry day - @snackhobi

“summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand. “

Pls this was so hot. Like, I’ve made it very clear thus far that I’m a total simp for Joon, the thought of that man going strawberry picking and thinking to grab some for oc genuinely makes me SWOON. He’s an actual heartthrob.

   The Sweet in Sweet Potato - @sahmfanficbts

“ Summary: You’ve been roommates for years. Now that you’re catching feelings, it’s time to run away. “

This entire series has had me so invested but this chapter!!! I’m always a sucker for Joon but the way he was so clearly in her feels (for OC) but wanting to respect her need for distance, what a man. And I was so happy to see oc working through her feeling towards Joon.

Last Christmas (M) - @jjungkookislife

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

Damn, I really love when a misunderstanding is such a big catalyst for a bunch of drama/angst. It just really ups the tension for me because as the reader I know it was a misunderstanding but clearly the character’s don’t, so it just makes me really eager to see how they make amends. I really enjoyed seeing them slowly make amends and grow. Also the buildup to them deciding to give the relationship another go made the ending soooo satisfying.

Jimin;

 picking petals｜pjm - @taestybae

“ summary ↣ you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. “

I really have no words for this, like it was so asaifgjhhkc. First of all, I really enjoyed that it was through his pov, i don’t typically read stories like that (I just don’t often come across them) but this still felt so natural that I didn’t even realize until right now, writing this comment. Also, the imagery was so well described and the anticipation built made this story so enjoyable.

Taehyung;

 Deepest Indulgence  - @scribblemetae

“ Description/Summary: The world is a mess, gangs, violence and rates of poverty are at an all time high since corporations took over everything. You built your Sex house to be a safe place and a sanctuary for those in need, promising to protect anybody who needs it. What happens when an extremely attractive and very rich man walks through the door begging for a job at Deepest Indulgence? The one sex house that wasn’t meant for men like himself. “

I AM SO EAGER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT. Like, idk how I can even describe this correctly but this just feel so much like Tae...???? Like idk if that makes sense but just Tae being this v sensual man, but there still being more to him than that, just makes so much sense and even the word “indulgence” is just so sensual and reminiscent of him. Also, the storyline so far is something I’ve personally never seen before and I’m super invested in this world and story already. Very eager to see how their relationship progresses.

 let it snow | kth - @suga-kookiemonster

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

It’s the way I read this last night, it took me exactly an hour (3am to 4 am cause I’m a CLOWN), and I was so invested that I kept putting off sleep to finish it. Man, i’m a simp for this Tae (just like he is for oc lmao). I really enjoyed reading it and the mention of Jisoo earlier in the story had me on the edge of my seat the whole time wondering when things were gonna blow up. Everything was just so sweet and fluffy, and the confession really made me feel so soft for them both cause they both were so in their own heads and feelings they couldn’t see what was in front of them so I really enjoyed the confessions.

Jungkook;

Thank you, baby - @scribblemetae

“ Turns out the boy whos been stalking you for years has decided its about time he shows his face in the form of a picture, and decides its time to talk to you for real, in the form of a phone call. “

I genuinely don’t know how I can simp over this story in a short way but I’ll try my best. The characters are so complex and the storyline is twisted so many ways that make this so interesting to read and easy to become invested in. The way Jk is written, I understand why OC is lost on how to feel for him. Like, his actions are wrong, but actually meeting him and even seeing his though process, it’s hard to make him out to be the villian that his actions have categorized him as. I can’t wait to continue reading and write a full length comment about this!

FEED ME, FIGHT ME.  @yeojaa

“ What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.) “

I really enjoyed this, I love how aware of Jk and his boundaries the oc is and how she is cautious to walk the line and not push him too far while also letting him know how his actions make her feel. This just genuinely felt like a glimpse into a very real, very intimate relationship/moment and I loved that. I also just really love how this is written and I think you have a beautiful way with words. 

Chapstick - @softyoongiionly

“based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. Or Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. “

Idk if I’ve ever said it before, but I just love how you write relationships. Like, I can feel how comfortable they are with each other and how natural being together is for them. With your stories generally it just never feels forced and I really love that. I also really liked that we got Jk’s pov in the beginning, getting to see how tense he was really made me eager for their interactions and for him to feel comfortable and calm with her. Their interactions just felt so cute and natural and the end, assdjfhi, jk really deserves to be cherished and I loved seeing oc get him to the point of relaxation.

[r6shippingdelivery]

I saw someone on Twitter post about how they wanted to see jealous Glaz, and I was struck by inspiration 😄 This fic is mostly about Glaz's perception of his place in Rainbow after Kali joins, and the bit with Fuze can be read as friendship or budding romance, whatever your like better.

WARNING: While Glaz is an unreliable narrator here, and Kali is not outright demonized, I haven't been kind to her either. So if she's your favorite character, proceed with caution.

You can also read the story in AO3, as the latest chapter of the Discord Ficlets collection.

Hatred was a shallow emotion, one that lived at surface level and hid deeper and more complex feelings, ones that people found harder to confront or admit and thus resorted to hate.

Glaz experienced that during his stint in the South Ossetia War, when the hatred they all felt for the enemy was just a cover for their sense of helplessness at stopping so much unnecessary death. As always, art became a way to express and work out his emotions, and from what he saw it was far healthier than drowning his sorrows in alcohol like most of his fellow soldiers did.

Over the years, Glaz had acquired a reputation for being a pretty stable person, not letting his emotions rule him but not burying and ignoring them either. So it was a shock to realise he was letting his emotions rule his opinion of a certain person.

It would be unfair to say he hated Kali. The Nighthaven leader had done nothing directly unpleasant to him, in fact Glaz wasn’t even sure if they ever had a conversation. But fuck, seeing her smug face made his blood boil. Admitting he was jealous was a bitter pill to swallow.

Glaz felt sidelined since she arrived. At first it had been normal that Kali got so much action in training matches and different situations, Harry always did that to ensure new additions got properly integrated in the team. However, Kali stopped being the new one and she kept being requested more and more often. If someone devised a plan that required a sniper, it was always her that got the call, almost never Glaz.

Sure, she was an excellent shot, but so was he. So were the other operators who had marksman training. Yet the only requested sniper was Kali. Even for the strategies that relied heavily on stealth, which made no sense to Glaz since Kali’s rifle was extremely loud and she refused to use a silencer. She insisted it wasn’t compatible with her weapon, which was utter bullshit in Glaz’s opinion. Then there were the snippets of conversations he heard from her in the shooting range.

“Of course I don’t use a thermal scope, that’s a crutch, and those are for beginners, not professionals.”

“I don’t hide behind smoke curtains like a child clinging to their mother’s skirts.”

“I could give you some pointers, you’d benefit by learning from a real sniper, Dokka.”

The gall of that woman! Glaz had never wanted to wipe the floor with someone as much as he did then, but when he approached them to offer a friendly marksman competition, Dokkaebi happily accepted while Kali sniffed and declined. “I’m busy now, maybe another time.”

Glaz silently fumed for days. He didn’t give a damn about Kali’s opinions; he knew he was an excellent sniper and she could make as many snide comments as she wanted. Nothing would change the truth. However, Glaz also had the feeling she was trying to undermine him, and he didn’t like that. Most operators in Rainbow were competitive by nature, but except for a few rivalries, the trash talking had always remained upfront and somewhat respectful, never behind another operator’s back. Things remained as they were, somewhat tense but peaceful, for a long time. Until the Invitational rolled around.

When the teams were publicly announced, the Spetsnaz were collectively surprised some of them were chosen to participate, unlike the previous year. Glaz didn’t mind sitting among the public again, and privately he and Kapkan made a point of keeping an eye out during the event. The White Masks might have been mostly obliterated, but they weren’t the only terrorist group in the world, and a huge gathering like this would be a tempting objective for any group looking to make a name for themselves. So he was fine with not being selected, truly. However, what he wasn’t fine with was the way Harry said one particular thing:

“And to showcase Rainbow’s prowess in long distance combat, team Ash will have our resident sniper, Kali.”

Seriously? The resident sniper, as in the only one? Glaz grit his teeth so hard he was sure everyone in the room could hear it. He refused to say anything, though, he wouldn’t turn this briefing into a spectacle. However, that didn’t stop him from hoping Tachanka would teach her a lesson with his new fire grenades. That would certainly put a smile on Glaz’s face.

Alas, that was not meant to happen, even if it came pretty close to actually becoming a reality. In the end, Tachanka’s team was eliminated, same as Fuze’s, and the tournament went on. Glaz thought nothing else would happen, and aside from secretly hoping for team Mira to win, he largely lost interest in the competition. Yet the competition, or more accurately, Kali, didn’t lose interest in them.

When Fuze told them he’d been invited to train with Nighthaven, none of the Spetsnaz was particularly pleased, since they worked better as a team, but they didn’t voice any objections either. Glaz wanted to, he wanted to forbid Fuze from doing it, but he was a rational man and knew that was both unreasonable and a douchebag move. If Fuze wanted to train with others, he was free to do so, of course. Glaz kept repeating that to himself, even if deep down he was sure that Kali woman wanted to take everything that he had, from his position as a sniper to his friends.

Aware of how childish that sounded, Glaz grimaced at his own thoughts. He needed to calm his mind, and as always, he turned to art. Painting would surely grant him that state of inner peace he sorely needed while waiting for Fuze to come back from his session with Nighthaven. Losing himself in the process of creating something always helped Glaz exorcise his demons, and also lose track of the world around him. At least until Fuze came back.

Most people painted Fuze as unreadable, but he wasn’t to Glaz. The artist could see clear as day that Fuze was deep in thought. The curiosity and need to know was eating Glaz inside.

“How did it go?” He asked, aiming for a casual and carefree tone. He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“Interesting.” As always, Fuze was succinct and straight to the point, going for the shortest message. However, Glaz knew that if one took the time to shut up and listen, Fuze would say more. “They’re an effective team, very competitive. It’s good to have them working with us and not against us, but I don’t think they feel part of Rainbow.”

It wasn’t the first time Glaz heard before some of those sentiments echoed around when it came to Nighthaven, but Fuze delivered with an admirable lack of judgement. The Uzbek relayed a blow by blow account of the training match, and Glaz wondered how Aruni felt at Kali’s call of her safety being expendable. It was just a game for now, but training built habits that one carried back to the battlefield. He was still pondering over what he heard when Fuze dropped a bombshell that shook him to the core.

“Kali offered me work in Nighthaven.”

Glaz saw red, and for a moment he couldn’t think. The looks in his eyes must have been a veritable maelstrom of repressed anger and jealousy, because Fuze looked taken aback. A burning sensation coiled in his chest, and Glaz clenched his fist hard to avoid unleashing a storm of swears, since Fuze wasn’t the target of his fury.

*crack*

The paint brush he’d been holding broke under the pressure of his clenched hand, but Glaz didn’t notice, and clenched his fist even tighter.

“Timur!”

It was Fuze calling out his name that finally brought Glaz down to earth, away from the dark spiral of what ifs where Fuze left the team, lured away by Kali. He opened his hands, revealing the brush he accidentally snapped in half, and how the jagged edge of the broken wood had sunk into his palm. Oh. He hadn’t even noticed that.

Glaz briefly mourned the loss of his favorite small brush, dropping the pieces aside and wiping the blood from his palm carelessly. “And? Did you accept?”

Fuze regarded him in silence for a few seconds, before shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe Glaz’s foolishness. “Of course not. I have my team. And I’m not going anywhere.” This assurance was a balm for Glaz’s turmoil, but then Fuze added with a smirk. “Besides, I know you always have my back and won’t put a bullet in me, not even a fake one.”

The laugh and lingering look they shared made Glaz feel that all was right in the world, at least for a little while. He knew he could always count on his team, on his friends, and having this belief reaffirmed soothed him like nothing else did. It had been foolish to think Fuze would leave him.

[alwaysmychoices]

for the prompt request, would you consider 20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear for Rafael x MC?

“Unpacking All of That”

Synopsis: After helping Raf move into his new apartment, he and Darcy end up at a bar where Rafael overhears her say they’re “just friends.” But do either of them really want to be just friends? 

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Darcy)

Words: 3.4k

Rating: T (language)

Note: I hope you liked it! I didn’t do a great editing job, so if you find errors, I’m sorry. Also, I made a new MC for Raf x MC fics. Meet ~Darcy~

Rafael couldn’t have moved into his apartment without Darcy’s help.

That was what he kept telling her, at least.

She didn’t quite believe him. She was just one of many friends who rallied behind Rafael to help him move. She thought his childhood friends deserved far more credit for carrying all those boxes to his 5th-floor walkup – and for calming Rafael’s grandmother, who threatened to burst into tears the entire time she helped Rafael unpack his kitchen.

But, even if Darcy didn’t carry the most boxes, Rafael knew he couldn’t have done it without her.

He wouldn’t even have this apartment if she hadn’t stood beside him while he emailed the listing agent.

And though neither of them ever addressed it, there was a quiet understanding that Darcy moved heaven and earth to be here today. She was technically assigned to work at Edenbrook that afternoon, and she cashed in at least a dozen favors to take the day off for Rafael. One of those favors included working the night shift, depriving her of any and all sleep, but she still showed up on Rafael’s doorstep with an excited smile and a cup of coffee. When everyone else called it a day and wished Rafael good luck, Darcy stayed.

He knew she was exhausted. He even commented on it a few times, begging her to go home and take a nap, but she always waved him off and drank a cup of coffee instead.

She deserved all the appreciation he could muster.

No, she deserves more, Rafael reasoned.  

When they ordered food, he ordered whatever she wanted. She objected, of course. It was his first night in his new apartment, after all, but Rafael promised it was his first choice, too. In a way, it was. His top priority was to make her happy, and if lo mein and fortune cookies accomplished that goal, he was satisfied.

Later, when the majority of the boxes were unpacked and they were too exhausted to touch any more, he offered to make popcorn and watch a movie to relax.

Rafael really wanted Darcy to say yes.

Darcy had never regretted making other plans more in her life.

With obvious disappointment, she explained that she had already agreed to meet people for drinks at 9 pm. With equally obvious disappointment, Rafael said he understood. Darcy didn’t want to leave him, though.

That’s how Rafael and Darcy ended up crowded into a downtown bar’s booth at 11 pm.

It was nice, it really was, but… it wasn’t quite the same as just relaxing alone.

There were a few new faces in the group tonight, so Rafael and Darcy spent most of the night getting to know strangers instead of spending time with each other. Darcy was seated next to a surgical intern Bryce brought along, and Rafael often found himself looking at them.

Someone told Rafael that his name was Jack. He had only met Bryce a week prior, but a few tough surgeries bonded the pair so much that Jack was now invited to morning workouts. He was brilliant, self-assured, and outgoing. Jack spent the whole night talking to Darcy, but there was this look he had that bothered Rafael, like he knew he would have the pleasure of talking to Darcy again and again.

It took less than thirty minutes for Rafael to decide that Jack was flirting with Darcy, and it took him even less time to decide that he despised Jack.

Darcy, however, didn’t seem to share Rafael’s sentiments.

She didn’t seem at all bothered to spend her night by Jack’s side. Once or twice, Rafael even thought she might be flirting back.

Finally, Rafael couldn’t handle it. He excused himself from the booth, saying he was going to the bar for another beer. He honestly didn’t care for another beer, nor did he want to wait by the bar. He just wanted to be as far away from Jack as he could get.

Rafael knew it wasn’t fair to begrudge Darcy a handsome young suitor. Darcy was an amazing woman. Of course, someone wanted to spend time with her. Rafael knew better than anyone what it was like to want to be near her, no matter the cost.

This time last year, he was lovesick and began every day hoping just to see Darcy. They went on adventures all over Boston, even dancing and sharing a kiss in the moonlight.

But then…

Then, Rafael changed his mind and lost his opportunity.

Right when Darcy started to look at Rafael as someone she could love, Sora came back. Back then, Rafael thought that a shared past and community trumped tentative adoration and fireworks every time they touched. He reasoned that Darcy was just a crush and that Sora was his destiny.

It didn’t feel right, though, not even for a moment. He looked at Sora and caught himself wishing he was sitting next to Darcy instead. He stayed because he was determined to make it work, and he couldn’t fathom breaking Sora’s heart. That wasn’t fair to Sora, either. He knew that now.

When Sora rightfully ended their relationship, Rafael had to rebuild something with Darcy that had never even been official. Their relationship was a patchwork of nervous smiles, late-night kisses, and a handful of nights. Then, their relationship was nothing – just friends who felt too awkward to actually spend time with each other. Now, what was it?

More importantly, what did they want it to be?

Rafael’s head swam. Four beers and existential thoughts didn’t mix well after a day of physical labor. He just wanted to go home, but he also refused to leave until he saw Darcy and Jack part ways. He couldn’t risk Darcy falling in love with someone else right when Rafael had a chance again.

Once he had his fifth beer in hand, Rafael decided that he was just going to get in there and stop it himself. He would join the conversation as casually as he could. Then, even if Jack behaved like an asshole and continued to flirt with Darcy, Rafael could serve as a buffer. It was foolproof.

Before he could change his mind, Rafael set off in the direction of their booth. Instead of rounding the corner to return to his old position, he headed straight for Darcy.

He was close enough to overhear them now. Part of him thought it was wrong to listen, but the other part felt like he had to know what they were talking about. What if they were making elopement plans right now?

“So, who is that guy you walked in with?” Jack asked Darcy, taking a nonchalant sip of his vodka tonic.

“Oh, that’s Raf!” Darcy answered, feeling almost like she had to yell over the music to make sure Jack heard her.

“Raf?” Jack repeated with a devilish smirk on his lips.

Darcy wasn’t sure how to read Jack. All night, she had oscillated between thinking he was just friendly and that he was desperately hoping to get her naked by the end of the night. Even his expression evaded understanding. His eyes were purposeful, like every word was an important piece to a magnificent puzzle, but the rest of his body exuded detachment and casual engagement.

She wondered if she was just trying too hard to read his behavior. Did any of it even matter? He was just the man she drank next to tonight. She didn’t need to evaluate his every action.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” Jack prodded, leaning closer to Darcy as he asked. She could feel his breath on her neck and could smell the vodka on his tongue.

“Oh, no, he’s just a friend!” Darcy insisted – very unconvincingly, if you asked her.

He’s just a friend.

Raf had only caught a few words of her conversation, but that he heard.

Just a friend.

Rafael was just a friend.

It stung.

It burned.

And it… it hurt.

Rafael felt frozen in place, like he needed to feel each individual dream and hope for his relationship with Darcy shatter. His heart ached. Everything felt blurry and rough around the edges now. Even the beer in his hand felt too icy and heavy. He just wanted to go home.  

He imagined sitting back in his seat and watching them for the rest of the night.

No… he really imagined watching Darcy – seeing her have fun and knowing she wanted nothing more than friendship.

There was a part of Rafael that wanted to blame Darcy. It insisted that she was responsible for this heartbreak, that she had fooled him with mixed signals. Who looks at their friend the way she looks at him?

But Rafael knew it was his fault.

He was the one who left Darcy. He picked someone else.

She deserved to do the same.

Rafael just wasn’t strong enough to sit there and watch.

When he approached Darcy, she gave him that smile – like she was so incredibly happy to see him and could only look in his direction. It was frustrating to see it now, knowing that he had spent weeks interpreting that as romantic interest when it was just another smile.

“Hey, Darcy, I’m heading out. Thanks for all your help today,” Rafael said quickly, only leaning close so she could hear him clearly as he put his practically full beer on the table in front of her.

“What? You’re leaving already?” Darcy asked, looking practically deflated with disappointment. This time, Rafael decided not to read into her. Clearly, he hadn’t done a good job in the past.

Instead, he just shrugged, “It’s late. I’ll see you around, though.”

They had talked about getting breakfast in the morning…

I guess he doesn’t want to do that now, Darcy thought to herself, swallowing hard and trying her best to smile.

“Oh,” Darcy sighed. She was surprised by how much it hurt. It wasn’t the first time Rafael had done this – left early with a dismissive shrug. She recognized the way his eyes avoided her, like he felt guilty right before he planned on pulling away.

He had done it so many times that she used to wonder if she would ever find Raf – the real Raf – again.

But that was before the attack, the near-death experience, and the breakup.

Darcy thought things were different now. She even got her hopes up that maybe they could get it right this time. She started using words like “fate” and “love” in her head.

Well… now she saw Rafael wasn’t doing the same.

Rafael didn’t say anything else. Instead, with a huff, he glanced in Jack’s direction and left without even saying goodbye to their other friends. It stung. Even when Jack started talking to her again, all she could think of was Rafael’s outline in the doorway, leaving her again.

He seemed upset, didn’t he?

Maybe something was wrong.

Or maybe she let herself get too close today. Maybe he realized all she had to do to be there with him today. Maybe she looked at him too much or smiled too much. Maybe he figured out she was in love with him and pulled away to save her future rejection.

Darcy wanted to finish her drink and Raf’s beer and just forget about his mixed signals. She spent all day moving furniture. She deserved a fun night, even if Rafael wasn’t here. There was Jack, after all. Really, all she would have to do was look at him the right way. If she wanted him, he was hers.

But she didn’t want Jack.

She wanted Raf.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t pay attention to anything else.

It had only been a few minutes, but it felt like hours.

She had to see if he was okay.

“I’ll be right back,” Darcy mumbled to Jack. She slid out of the booth before Jack could even ask where she was going.

Once Darcy was outside the bar, she realized how foolish her plan was. She had no idea where Raf even was. By now, he could be in a cab on the way to his apartment. She should just go back inside and talk to Raf tomorrow.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she started aimlessly walking down the sidewalk, looking in every passing stranger for a familiar face.

It was a ridiculous effort, but she got lucky.

Rafael, after less than 2 blocks, gave up on walking himself home and parked himself on the curb trying to hail a taxi. He hadn’t yet been successful.

Instinctively, Darcy rushed towards him. She had no idea what to say or how to explain why she came after him. She just wanted to see him…

“Raf?” Darcy asked tentatively once she was close enough to be heard by him.

Rafael hesitated to look in her direction. It couldn’t be Darcy. He had to be imagining it.

But… she was there.

Without his permission, his heart swelled with something warm and bright and reserved solely for Darcy. Despite his promise that he would stop trying to interpret grand meanings from her actions, he impulsively decided that this was a grand gesture. She ran into the night for him. That meant something, didn’t it?

Just friends, he reminded himself.

Still, even with the reminder, a sliver of hope survived.

“Darcy, what are you doing?” Rafael asked, trying very hard not to look at her for too long. He didn’t trust himself to look at her and not sweep her into his arms, and he knew that’s not what she wanted.

“I just…” she stammered, “You seemed upset when you left, so I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Oh… I’m fine.”

“Right,” Darcy crossed her arms nervously.

She had her answer. She should leave.

She didn’t leave though.

“Are you sure?”

“What?”

“Just… are you sure? If you are upset, you can tell me.”

“No, I can’t,” Rafael scoffed against his better judgment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Darcy took a step back.

“Nothing.”

“No, it clearly means something,” Darcy insisted, growing frustrated, “What is it?”

“Seriously, it’s nothing,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

How dare he!

She fumed as she barked, “Bullshit.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, fine, you want to know what it is?” Rafael crossed his arms as he turned to face her.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying, you asshole.”

“Fine. Back there, you told that guy I was just your friend!”

She didn’t react like Rafael thought she would, not that he even quite knew what to expect.

She didn’t look angry or shocked. She looked… confused. Maybe even frustrated.

“Are you serious?” Darcy asked incredulously.

“Why would I not be serious?” Rafael insisted quite proudly.

“I don’t know,” Darcy rolled her eyes, “Maybe because you did the exact same thing to me six hours ago!”

Rafael paused and then weakly asked, “What?”

“Before dinner, when your friend Alex left, he asked you who I was. You told him that I was a friend,” Darcy reminded. She was looking at Raf like he was an idiot. Frankly, he felt like one.

He remembered telling Alex that, though he didn’t know Darcy heard him. But it still wasn’t the same.

“Calling you a ‘friend’ is not the same as you calling me ‘just a friend,’” Rafael argued, “It’s totally different!”

“It’s exactly the same.”

“You can be a friend and still be more than a friend!” Rafael asserted, “It’s the just part!”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it isn’t. They are two very different things.”

Darcy looked close to wringing Rafael’s neck. He wasn’t sure he blamed her.

“Fine,” Darcy threw her arms up in defeat, “Let’s say it’s a different thing. I’m your friend, and maybe that could mean more. But does it? Does it mean more for us?”

Rafael was overwhelmed.

Did it mean more?

He wanted it to, but… did she? Or was she just fighting for the point of it?

“I… I don’t know,” Rafael fumbled.

“You don’t know?” Darcy repeated. He instantly knew it was the wrong answer.

“Well, I don’t. I mean, tonight, I offered a night of just us, and then you took me to a bar where you flirted with some other guy,” Rafael explained, “I don’t know what to think.”

“What about you? You told your grandmother I was an angel, and then twenty minutes later, you told your friend that I was a friend who was just helping you move in!” Darcy felt increasingly uncomfortable. Even without attracting the attention of passersby, they were wading into dangerous territory.

She had never spoken this openly with Raf about their unusual relationship.

She worried where it would end.

But at the same time, she didn’t want to stop it. It had been over a year. If they were ever going to be together, someone had to say something.

“Well… what do you want it to mean?” Rafael asked.

Oh.

She hadn’t expected him to be that direct.

She didn’t have an answer – or maybe she did and was too afraid to tell him.

“Um…” Darcy stammered, “I like being your friend.”

“Oh,” Rafael frowned.

“But, well… I might also like, um, more. Maybe.”

“More?” Rafael repeated. He swallowed the hope building in his chest. He was too vulnerable to let himself hope right now.

“Yeah. Only if you want to, though,” Darcy quickly clarified.

“I do,” Rafael coughed nervously, “So, I guess… we agree then?”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Darcy seemed unsure when she said it.

Was this… were they agreeing to be more than friends right now?

It was all happening so quickly – and with such nervousness from both sides – that she wasn’t sure.

“We could try a date,” Rafael ventured cautiously.

“A date?’

“A date,” Rafael confirmed. He didn’t like how long she took to answer. Every second felt like an incredible risk, and he prepared himself for heartbreak.

“Um… yeah, I would like a date.”

“You would?” Rafael’s jaw practically dropped.

“I would love a date,” Darcy awkwardly jammed her hands in her pockets just so she didn’t have to think about what to do with them.

“We could go now, if you wanted,” Rafael was so excited that he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He was so afraid she could change her mind.

“We could, but…” Darcy frowned.

Shit.

“But what?” Rafael asked apprehensively.

“It’s just that I haven’t showered, and I spent all day moving and then sitting in a crowded bar,” Darcy explained anxiously. It’s not like she wanted to remind him that she was sweaty and gross when he was finally asking her on a date after all this time.

Oh.

Rafael breathed out a sigh of relief. That was a normal reason. She wasn’t changing her mind.

“But I’m not working on Friday,” Darcy added eagerly.

“Friday?” Rafael mulled it over. He liked the sound of that. He already had a dozen places he wanted to take her, and he would have nearly a week to plan it… With a bright, handsome smile, Rafael nodded, “Friday it is.”

Darcy’s face split into the prettiest smile Rafael had ever seen.

She was so incredibly wonderful, and she wanted to go on a date with him. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“I guess I’ll see you then,” Darcy bit her lower lip in an attempt to quell her excitement and come off cool and casual. It didn’t work. She still looked positively ecstatic.

“I guess you will,” Rafael confirmed.

He wasn’t tired anymore. He didn’t even know what tired was. He was walking on cloud nine as far as he was concerned.

Darcy awkwardly fidgeted for a moment, unsure what she was supposed to do. Finally, she just nodded her goodbyes and started walking to the bar. For a moment, Rafael watched her go, silently repeating, “she’s really going on a date with me,” over and over again.

Then, with a surge of courage and happiness, Rafael ignored the oncoming taxi coming for him, and he ran down the sidewalk to catch up with Darcy. She stopped when he called her name and just stared at him, terrified he was running up just to cancel.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Rafael walked right up to her, and after thinking about it for so many months, Rafael finally kissed Darcy.

And the kiss wasn’t even the best part.

The best part was that they had a date on Friday… and they weren’t just friends.

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[fatalism-and-villainy]

Guarded Curiosity

for @coldwind-shiningstars, a fic featuring their OC - Wen Qing/Li Xiaofan, 3.1k, pre-relationship academic flirting. Thank you Novy for letting me borrow your OC and I hope I got her right!

Wen Qing was hardly in any sort of position optimal for hearing gossip – indeed, she had never had the opportunity nor inclination to be a sophisticated and well-connected lady who traded in rumours. But the reputation of the new mistress of the Unclean Realm had not failed to reach her ears. It was, in this particular case, a matter of vocation. The new Nie-furen was apparently extraordinarily sharp-minded and inclined towards matters of science and philosophy, and had produced numerous writings on the subjects with voracious speed and energy. She was also said to have amassed an impressive circle of female companions, among them the most forward-thinking minds in cultivation theory.

There were plenty who might have denounced such behaviour in a wife, but Nie-furen was apparently, for all her intellect, a polite and unassuming personality, and well-attuned to the affairs of the household; as such, naysayers had little to find fault with.

But Wen Qing knew little of this when she first heard the name Li Xiaofan. For her, it was merely a name in the footnotes of a recent medical publication, read with a furrowed brow over her morning congee, that had compelled her to track down the individual in question. It was to her deep surprise to learn that this woman was the wife of Nie Huaisang, and that she was in search of intellectual companions of a demographic very similar to Wen Qing. Wen Qing’s connections had then swiftly obtained her an invitation to the Unclean Realm.

As such, Wen Qing found herself, neutrally dressed in pale gray, before a small audience of women assembled in Li Xiaofan’s own study. Li Xiaofan herself sat in the centre of their semicircle. She was unexpectedly slight and unremarkable compared to the others, who seemed to be subtly competing with one another in finery; she even wore very few of the adornments fitting for a sect leader’s wife, contenting herself solely with a simple bronze headpiece, jade earrings, and a few rings. What did stand out about her were her eyes – exceptionally steady in their gaze, and betraying nothing of the thoughts behind them.

Wen Qing was unaccustomed to this sort of public scrutiny, especially within this conclave of female camaraderie, wherein the rules seemed to be deeply and imperceptibly etched into the setting. Nonetheless, she steeled herself and, smoothing out the stack of paper in her hands, began to read.

The reception was… not quite chaos, although something adjacent to it. There was a brief period of silence when Wen Qing finished reading, and then a woman sporting large, opulent green earrings asked a question to which Wen Qing had barely time to respond before another woman intervened with another question, clearly designed to undermine the first. It was little time before a cryptic and impassioned debate had broken out that seemed at something of a remove from the topic at hand, and much more based in the simmering conflicts and resentments of the group.

Wen Qing knew well enough when to keep her tongue. But she felt rather at a loss as to what to do, still standing before her preoccupied audience. She was tapping restlessly at the stack of paper she held, and considering taking the risk of clearing her throat so as at least to issue some kind of concluding thanks or acknowledgment, when she heard a voice speak disconcertingly close to her.

“Excuse me, guniang.”

Wen Qing had trained herself out of flinching years ago; she merely let the little shock pass through her, soundlessly as lightning blinking across the sky. She turned to find that Li Xiaofan had materialized behind her, having approached silently amidst the heated and calamitous debate. Her face wore the same placid, unforthcoming expression as it had since Wen Qing had set foot in the room.

“Nie-furen.” Wen Qing inclined her head. “I thank you for your hospitality, and for allowing me to speak today.”

“The privilege was ours,” the other woman replied. “But, guniang, may I trouble you to have a look at your notes?”

“My notes?” repeated Wen Qing.

“I only wished to see if you had diagrams handy.” Li Xiaofan’s voice was mannerly, near-apologetic, and yet also firm in resolve. She betrayed none of the imperiousness that ladies of the household often did, but she was clearly not struggling to fit into her role either.

“Of course.” Wen Qing offered the stack of papers. “They are interspersed throughout the written argument – you may peruse them as you like.”

Li Xiaofan stretched out both her hands, as if formally accepting a gift. There really was an unexpected elegance to her movements.

Flicking through the pages, a tiny frown came over Li Xiaofan’s face. She paused on one page for a moment, and then nodded to herself. “Yes, it’s what I thought.” She looked up again. “Forgive me for pointing it out, guniang, but I’m afraid there is a potential flaw in this diagram. I thought so as I was listening, but I needed to look for myself.”

“A flaw?” Wen Qing was disconcerted, not only at her own mistake, but at the level of attentiveness on the part of the other woman. Especially in light of the cacophony of feedback from her companions, it had been difficult to tell if she had been listening at all, let alone following along with such precision.

Wen Qing narrowed her eyes, taking another look at Li Xiaofan. Her tone in raising the issue had continued to be near-deferential, but there was a strange expression emanating from the exactitude of her gaze and the set of her mouth – possibly something like satisfaction.

Wen Qing could not suppress a spark of interest.

“A flaw,” she repeated, moving in to look at the diagram over Li Xiaofan’s shoulder. “Please, explain it to me.”

***

Before his death, certain people, especially those of a more sentimental nature, had hoped for Nie Mingjue to marry, commenting that a woman’s touch would make the Unclean Realm more hospitable. But no such hope had been attached to his younger brother, whose aesthetic tastes were well known (and widely panned).

“Yes, my husband has quite the passion for flower arrangements,” Li Xiaofan said, reaching out to delicately caress one of the roses at the side of the stone path. “He truly has transformed the place – or so I’m told. Of course, I never visited before our courtship.”

“It looks lovely,” Wen Qing volunteered. Serviceable enough, as a response.

“Do you like flowers, Wen-guniang?” Her companion asked. “I suppose you must, for their medicinal purposes.”

“I don’t have such a one-track mind. I will confess to a weakness for their beauty as well.”

Li Xiaofan relinquished the rose blossom. “Do you consider appreciation of beauty to be a weakness?”

“Not inherently,” Wen Qing replied. “But surely one must admit it has that potential.”

“I see.” Li Xiaofan resumed walking, and Wen Qing hastened to match her pace. “For the record, I am less interested in flowers for their aesthetics, myself – although you could find a few among my companions who have made that their area of study. I have recently developed a pet interest in grafting.”

“Grafting?”

“Indeed. I have been conducting some experiments – I can show you the plants in question later, and my notes, if you are interested.”

“Most certainly.” Wen Qing gestured at the flower boxes lining the walkway. “Are any of these your creations, then?”

“Oh, no!” Li Xiaofan gave a little laugh. “I would never dare to tinker with my husband’s roses. He is rather particular about them.”

“I see.” Wen Qing paused. “It seems you and Nie-zongzhu keep your interests separate.”

Li Xiaofan eyed her with a furtive scrutiny. “My husband has his own pursuits, and I have mine. This is how ideal marriages are conducted, I think.”

Wen Qing inclined her head in concession. “I wouldn’t know, of course.”

“Naturally. Did you ever intend to get married?”

Wen Qing stopped for a moment to properly look her in the eye. “No,” she said honestly. “Marriage was always a means to an end – a possibility, for the protection of me and mine. Nothing more.” For a-Ning, especially – and it was so disconcerting, to be making decisions without a care for a-Ning. He was strong now, strong beyond comprehension – she had to remember that. “Now, I have so few ties, marriage would be only a pursuit of pleasure. And I sense… well. It would bring little of that, for me.”

That exacting gaze was still resting on her, not faltering for a moment. It was remarkable, how much more calculating Li XIaofan’s eyes were, up close like this. “You have no interest in comfort and security for your own sake?”

“I believe I am capable of creating them myself.” Wen Qing hesitated for a moment. It had been a long time since she had been in a formal conversation that required this kind of guardedness. “But the first, I’ll admit, has never really enticed me. I prefer my work to leisure. And the second – well, how guaranteed can such a thing be?”

“We think alike, then,” said Li Xiaofan. “My husband is a lover of leisure – although his mind is frequently at work. As for me, my work is soothing to me. He coaxes me to lay it aside every now and then, and I coax him to put his observations to use. As such, we work together quite efficiently.”

Wen Qing nodded along. The particular balancing mechanisms of marriage were still quite foreign to her. In the past, she had often been unnerved by married women outside her family. Their bound hair and their assured poise signaled a seamless adoption of the rites of the household - and, secretly, subliminally, the rites of the bedchamber. The women made her dread such a conference of knowledge upon herself, and yet provoked an inexplicable curiosity in her as well. But Wen Qing had also known the dangers of curiosity when unguarded.

This ritual no longer gave her the same trepidation, but it jarred her to be reminded that Li Xiaofan was in such a different class of women from her. Though it was difficult to imagine her and Nie Huaisang engaged in any kind of relations.

All the same, it was perhaps a comfort to be navigating this creeping intimacy with an attached woman. One who had her own house and husband, who needed nothing from Wen Qing except her intellectual prowess, and whose other designs on her were solely in the province of wanting.

Wanting what, exactly? Wen Qing turned her head ever so slightly to take in a sidelong glance at the other woman. Li Xiaofan’s face betrayed no intention, her small, puckered mouth completely impassive. Certainly, given her views on marriage, she did not seem the sentimental type – whatever passions this woman was capable of, they did not seem to be based in flights of fancy. Wen Qing could not help wondering what it would take to break that carefully controlled neutrality of expression.

“Wen-guniang?” Li Xiaofan lifted her eyebrows. The expression was undeniably striking on her.

Wen Qing felt like shaking herself. “Ah, forgive me. I am not usually so distracted – I have had a long journey.”

“Of course.”

“It is admirable that you have achieved such a partnership,” Wen Qing continued, more confidently. “All couples should hope to be so well-balanced.”

“Indeed. You were concerned with such balance today, were you not? With your articulation of the interactions of the Zang-fu. It was surprisingly metaphorical.”

Wen Qing inclined her head. “That presentation was considerably more philosophical than my usual inclinations. I suppose recent circumstances have prompted me to think more… abstractly.”

“You specialized in acupuncture, correct?”

“Largely. I also pursued some more… experimental lines of thought.”

LI Xiaofan quirked her lips, but made no more insistent inquiry. “I see.”

Wen Qing hastened on. “In truth, it was your remarks on moxibustion that compelled me here.”

“Oh, that?” Li Xiaofan swept her robes up as they progressed up a small series of steps that opened out into a courtyard. “I’m surprised it had such far-reaching influence, really. Medicine is more of a side project for me. I am certain Wen-guniang’s insights would make me seem quite foolish in comparison.”

She had not quite mastered the composure of a great lady, Wen Qing thought. Such a performance of modesty ought to be utterly free of contempt, and buoyed by a certain warmth and grace that underlined the speaker’s being ultimately above the judgment of the other. Li Xiaofan had not quite grasped the cadence of such a response yet, it seemed – the tone came down in some muddled place between smug and perfunctory. It was quite an intriguing chink in her armour.

“Nie-furen is too kind,” Wen Qing replied smoothly. “Of course, I’m aware of the focus of much of your work. But at what age did you take an interest in medicine?”

“Early,” replied Li Xiaofan. “I did not get a chance to study it formally until shortly after my marriage. But I have always been interested in the workings of the physical body.”

Naturally. Li Xiaofan’s origins would not have permitted her to devote herself to extensive scholarship. Such a mercantile family would have been much more concerned with producing a marriageable daughter than a scholarly one. But she had clearly had a fierce drive for knowledge, if the rumours were to be believed.  

“The workings of the physical body,” Wen Qing repeated. “And do your companions share such an interest?” She winced internally. Heavens, this woman made her clumsy.

“Some of them,” the other woman replied evenly. “Though sometimes through the aim of achieving transcendence – and through more unconventional means.”

Wen Qing paused. “Do you mean dual cultivation?”

Li Xiaofan turned her head to meet Wen Qing’s gaze. Her eyes betrayed a glint. “Not quite.”

“More than two?”

A little smile blossomed in the corner of her mouth. “Precisely.”

A new sensation was taking root inside Wen Qing, something like exhilaration – if exhilaration was the proper word for a kind of momentary vindication that brought a palpably physical, almost dizzying effect. Amidst the towering walls and century-old stonework, she was in uncharted waters.

“There is something so charming about the contrast of flower and stone,” Wen Qing commented. “It’s the kind of artistic touch that, I’m told, the Unclean Realm has been lacking in the past.”

Li Xiaofan cast another amused, knowing look at her. “You are fond of diverting the discussion, aren’t you?”

“So are you.”

“Not at all.” Li Xiaofan began to move again, taking long, quick strides. “I am not one for evasion. I am merely patient.”

Wen Qing quickened her pace as well. “So patient that I imagine you intend to keep me here for at least several weeks before my work reaches a level that you deem publishable.”

“Keep you here?” Li Xiaofan laughed, a soft and light sound that seemed unsuited to the tone of their conversation. “Do you imagine this as a prison, Wen-guniang?”

“Of course not.” Wen Qing lowered her head in an appropriately demure gesture, but maintained the steady conviction in her voice. “I only meant that Nie-furen has famously high standards.”

Li Xiaofan was gazing straight ahead as they walked, a kind of playfulness in her refusal to meet Wen Qing’s eyes. “I have made you no invitation as yet.”

“You would hardly have personally corrected me if you thought my work beneath your notice. And your companions seemed sufficiently engaged by it.”

“That particular cohort is very easily stirred up,” Li Xiaofan countered. “But yes, I believe the two of us have considerable potential together.”

“The two of us?” Wen Qing stopped. “Are you imagining a more extensive collaboration than mere supervision?”

Li Xiaofan paused, slightly ahead of her, and turned back to lock eyes with her again. “Yes,” she said simply. “I would like to work with you.”

She retraced her steps, drawing closer to Wen Qing. “I have assembled a collection of intellectually curious minds together to create an environment that, I think, facilitates innovation. Within it, certain individuals are more closely bonded, more suited to one another. Just imagine the way in which each zang is paired to its own fu, and they exist in concert with the other pairings by way of the Wuxing.”

“I hardly think that metaphor applies here.”

Li Xiaofan cocked an eyebrow inquisitively. It truly was astonishing how malleable her affect was, how much it had shifted from their first meeting.

Wen Qing explained, stumblingly, “A zang can hardly abandon its paired fu for another on a whim.”

The other woman chuckled, ducking her head down. “Is that your objection? Metaphors are flexible, Wen-guniang. You have been more broadly thinking through certain means of coexistence through this framework, yes? Surely we can agree that the complexities of human choice and connection transcend the mere workings of our bodies.”

“Perhaps.”

“Evading again,” said Li Xiaofan. She had such a subtle array of different amusements at her disposal, thought Wen Qing.

“Nonetheless I will accept your offer,” Wen Qing said.

“The offer I still haven’t formally issued?” Li Xiaofan smiled, close-mouthed and ladylike, but there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “I should warn you though, Wen-guniang – I won’t be able to favour you extensively or openly at first. You should know that many of these women… well, they are unaware of your origins. And they dislike seeing an upstart rise so quickly.”

“I understand.”

“Don’t worry, of course – your secret will be quite safe with me, Wen-guiniang. Or should I say -?”

“Lai.”

“Lai-guniang,” Li Xiaofan continued evenly. “That said, this cohort is not the nest of vipers you are presumably imagining.” She turned her head to the side, her eyes knowingly appraising Wen Qing. “There are many women here who share your interests, and could be of much help to you in navigating the customs here. I could point you towards them later.”

“You are most kind, Nie-furen.”

It was only after the niceties had left her mouth that Wen Qing realized that she had sealed their agreement, its parameters still uncertain. Li Xiaofan had drawn close, suddenly, and all the heat in the courtyard seemed to emanate from the space between their bodies.

“I am pleased you came, Lai-guniang. We will have much to discuss.”

[artificialqueens]

Voulez-Vous Coucher Avec Moi? (Gigi x Nicky) - Peridot

A/N: Y’all wanted domme Nicky and sub Gigi? You’re welcome.

This is a little lesbian one shot I wrote for the season 12 girls because I’m really enjoying them! I haven’t written a fic since December, so I’m sorry if I’m a little rusty! Also go easy on me, I don’t usually write smut and I only did the tiniest bit in this, so be gentle. Please leave me some feedback, I’d love to hear what you think of this! Also come say hi at my sideblog @artificialperidot, because I wanna make friends!

Summary: Gigi didn’t think anybody could make her sub. That was, until she met miss Nicky Doll.

Hope you enjoy!

The pair stumbled through the door of Nicky’s apartment, Nicky’s hands an iron grip on Gigi’s wrist, practically dragging the girl. The door shut with a click, and in a split second Gigi found herself shoved against it, boxed in by Nicky’s arms.

“Put your hands above your head, bitch.”

~

“There’s no way”

Gigi rolled her eyes and took a sip of her strawberry mocktail whilst the group around her snickered. She and her flatmates Heidi, Jackie and Jan were out for drinks at their local bar, sitting in a leather booth with some unrecognisable 90s beat playing over the speakers, barely audible over the chatter of people. It was their first night out in a long time, a celebration for Jackie’s new job offer in a weekly cabaret show. Gigi, however, wasn’t drinking with her friends - she knew how fast Heidi could get her drunk, and she was not about to have another crazy night, and was not about to let her friends get to that stage, either. The last one had been christened, “The milkshake incident” and Gigi had never quite lived it down. And she did not intend to have a repeat tonight.

But, as things often did when they had a girls night, the conversation quickly turned to sex.

“Oh come on, G,” Heidi exclaimed, “Are you saying no one in God’s universe could make you sub?”

“Highly doubt it.”

“Not even if you hadn’t had sex in years?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I knew you were a control freak, but didn’t know you cared that much.” Jan quipped, received a chuckle from the group.

“Yeah, well, that and the fact that I don’t think anyone could turn me on enough for me to listen to them,” Gigi added. “Like, I’d have to be about to fucking explode before I’d let some bitch tell me what to do.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” said Jackie.

“What do you mean?”

“You think no one could turn you on that much?”

Gigi shrugged. “I don’t think so. Girls are hot, but no one’s that hot.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Well, let’s make things interesting then. Let’s arrange a hook up for you. If we can find a bitch that’s hot enough to make you sub, then you’re buying our drinks next time.”

“Ooh bitch, I like the sound of that,” Heidi chirped.

Gigi scoffed. “And if I win?”

“Then… then we’ll never bring up the milkshake incident again.”

Gigi paused. Now that would be worth it. “Deal,” she said, reaching out a hand to shake Jackie’s across the table, to the excited squee of Jan and the ‘ooohs’ of Heidi. “This sounds amazing. I’m getting a free hookup out of this, and I get to dom. I can’t lose.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Miss Goode,” Jackie commented, tapping at her phone screen, which she kept hidden from Gigi. “I have some contacts.”

Jackie couldn’t keep the mischievous grin from her face. “Who did you have in mind?” Heidi asked her, leaning over her shoulder to look at her phone.

“Just a little friend of mine, from back in New York.”

“Girl, if it’s who I’m thinking of, Miss Gigi doesn’t stand a chance!” Jan added.

Jackie smiled mischievously at Jan, giving her a knowing look, before leaning over and whispering something indecipherable into Heidi’s ear, which sent her reeling. “No way! Oh, this bitch stands no chance!” she exclaimed, a little too loudly for Gigi’s liking. “Drinks for us next Saturday bitches!”

Jan laughed, and Gigi rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be too confident. I can be intimidating when I wanna be.”

“Do you wanna be intimidating all the time then? Cause you are a scary bitch,” Heidi added, receiving a giggle from the group. “Seriously I’d still be frightened of you if I hadn’t seen the milkshake incident go down with my own eyes.”

The girls began cackling with laughter, and to save her embarrassment, Gigi laughed along too.

At least after tonight she’d never have to hear about it again.

This should be easy.

~

After about an hour or so of cocktails and a trip to the dance floor (where Heidi decided to give everyone in the bar some dance lessons, whether they were willing or not), Jackie disappeared and returned with a woman following along behind her.

“Gigi, there’s a little someone I want you to meet,” Jackie grinned. “This is Nicky. Nicky Doll.”

Jackie stepped to the side, and forward walked a woman. A woman who looked as if she was straight from the covers of vogue.

Gigi couldn’t deny that the woman standing in front of her was beautiful. Fuck, she may have just been one of the most gorgeous women she’d ever seen. Long blonde hair, dark features, and a body to die for. She wore a tight red mini dress that showed off her perfect curves and tiny waist, with a leather jacket thrown over her shoulders, embroidered with roses. She exuded sultriness, in the sort of way that made you certain that she knew just how sexy she was. Her bedroom eyes looked Gigi up and down like a predator surveying its prey, and a smile formed from her pursed lips.

Fuck.

She’s good.

Well, two can play at that game.

Gigi strutted over to the woman, swaying her hips, and slowly reached out a hand for her to shake. “Good evening, Nicky.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow and took her hand, gripping it firmly. “Nice to meet you, darling,” she drawled, her tone exuding confidence. “You want me to top her, Jackie? Shouldn’t be a problem.”

It was then that Gigi picked up on her accent, and her heart jumped a little. It took her a second to distinguish it, but after years of french class in high school, her ear was attuned to the pronunciation.

French. Fucking French?

Somehow it made her ten times hotter.

But, Gigi wasn’t about to back down yet.

“It might be a problem, seeing I’m head and shoulders taller than you,” she quipped, quirking an eyebrow and lifting her chin.

“At least I’m not a skinny little bitch,” Nicky quickly shot back, taking Gigi off guard. “She looks like one of those inflatable car advertisements, you know, the one with the flailing arms.”

The group began to laugh, including Gigi, trying desperately to brush off the joke and not show a crack in her armour. The little jolt in her chest when Nicky looked at her didn’t help make matters any easier.

Of course Jackie just happened to know this gorgeous French supermodel who was just as intimidating as Gigi, maybe even more so. This bet wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed.

Either way, she was so fucking glad she was going to fuck this bitch tonight.

The sound of Jackie’s voice shook Gigi out of her daydream. “So guys, are you still willing to go home together tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. She’s really hot,” Gigi said, in her sexiest voice. “Can’t wait to see her on her knees.”

Nicky didn’t flinch at Gigi’s last sentiment. She simply raised an eyebrow, as if to say are you kidding?

Gigi would be lying if she said that it didn’t turn her on. Slightly.

“Well, Nicky?” Jackie prompted.

“Eh, she’s not bad looking herself.” Nicky shot Gigi a smirk. “I’m up for it.”

“Great,” Jackie said with a clap of her hands. “The bet’s on! Now, who’s for another round of drinks? On me!”

The sentence was met by whoops and cheers from Jan and Heidi, and the girls slunk their way through the crowd towards the bar, Gigi and Nicky following after them.

Gigi felt an arm slide around hers, interlocking them, and felt a voice by her ear.

“Darling, I’m just checking you’re staying sober for tonight?” Nicky said in a hushed tone. The breath on Gigi’s skin made her shudder just a bit.

“Of course,” she replied with mock confidence. “I wouldn’t be comfortable any other way.”

“Good,” Nicky replied. “And, I want to check that no matter what goes down tonight, you're ok with it? Like, if you don’t top you are still comfortable.”

Gigi smiled. It was cute that she checked. “I’m comfortable with whatever goes down, though that shouldn’t be a problem for me anyway.”

“Good,” Nicky said matter-of-factly, before slipping her arm out from its entwinement with Gigi’s and starting to walk ahead of her to catch up with the group. She stopped after a second though, turning her head back to Gigi and waiting for her to catch up. She leant into her, her voice even more low and hushed than before.

“And don’t get too confident, baby. It’s not cute,” she said, giving Gigi a tap on the ass, before walking ahead of her again as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t enough to hurt - it was barely enough for Gigi to even feel it. But it made her stop in her tracks, rendered immovable.

Gigi gulped. She didn’t know if it was possible for a human heartbeat to exceed 100 miles per hour, but she was sure that hers had gotten pretty close.

Shit.

~

Gigi wasn’t sure if it was the pounding of the music through the speakers, or the pounding of her heart that made her feel lightheaded, but after a while she needed to sit down. Not wanting to bother her friends, who were busy laughing and dancing and spilling their cocktails all over the dance floor, she left their group and made her way over to a booth at the side of the room, resting her elbows on the table. She squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t make the loud beat or the flashing strobe lights go away, but at least it stopped her head spinning a little.

After all, the thoughts swimming in her brain were enough for her head to deal with.

All she could think about was Nicky.

Before long, she felt someone slide into the booth beside her, a hand moving to rest on the small of her back.

She didn’t need to open her eyes to guess who it was.

“Are you alright, my darling?” a thick french accent murmured.

Gigi opened her eyes to face the girl beside her, whose eyes were wide with concern.

“I’m okay Nicky, thanks. Just felt a little lightheaded, that’s all.”

Nicky flashed her a caring smile. “It’s okay Gigi. You can rest your head on me if you need to, that might help.” Gigi smiled gratefully at her, before laying her head on the shorter girl’s shoulder. Nicky began rubbing her back in small circles, comforting her. “Do you need any water?”

“I’m okay, thanks. I’m starting to feel better already.”

“I’m glad.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, Nicky soothing Gigi, and Gigi trying to conceal her inner panic. She’d never met someone like Nicky before. Never. No one had ever turned her on as fast, for a start. And, she seemed to genuinely care about her, and they’d only just met for Christ sake.

Let’s just say, Gigi was pretty excited to go home with her tonight. She was even more excited to see her again after tonight, though. On a date.

That is, if she plucked up the courage to ask her.

She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Nicky began stroking Gigi’s hair, softly and gently, being careful not to mess it up, and Gigi melted into the touch. “You okay down there?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted to stay like this for a little while.”

“That’s okay. I like it too, ma crevette.”

Gigi’s eyes blinked open with confusion. “What does that mean?”

Nicky paused and smiled. “You’ll laugh.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a term of endearment in french, sort of like ‘my darling’,” she started, “but the literal translation is ‘my shrimp.’

The two girls began silently laughing to each other, like two school girls giggling over a secret. “You’re joking!”

“I’m serious! French is weird when you put it into English.”

“I used to study french, you know. Back in high school.”

Nicky looked impressed. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I can barely remember any of it. It was the only class I consistently failed,” she laughed. “That and basic math.”

“Speak some french for me Gigi. I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gigi racked her brain, trying to come up with something more interesting than ‘bonjour’ or ‘je m’appelle Gigi’, when she remembered a little song from ‘Moulin Rouge’ that she thought would fit the bill perfectly.

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

Their little booth erupted into fits of giggles, Nicky barely able to comprehend her choice of phrase. Gigi watched closely, loving the way her nose screwed up when she laughed, and the toothy grin that took over her face.

Gigi didn’t know it was possible to be sexy and adorable, but she’d been proven wrong.

“Someone’s seen ‘Moulin Rouge’,” Nicky laughed.

“Well? Is that a yes? Oui or non?” Gigi persisted, leaning her shoulder into Nicky’s side.

Nicky shook her head and rolled her eyes with a sense of disbelief, but she didn’t try and stop the smile from creeping over her lips.

“Oui, my darling,” she laughed, before planting a kiss on Gigi’s cheek. “But, just because I’m being nice now doesn’t mean I’ll be nice later when I’m punishing you.”

Gigi felt a pang in her chest, and bit the inside of her lip, despite her ambivalence. She was embarrassed of the way it turned her on. The thought of Nicky doing what she wants to her, having her way with her, was so sexy.

But the thought of Nicky down on her knees for her, was a pretty tempting thought too. So, she concealed the way her heart leapt out of her chest by raising an eyebrow, hoping her dark features and intimidating aura would have the same effect on Nicky as she had on her.

“Bold of you to assume you won’t be the one getting punished,” Gigi said, glaring into Nicky’s eyes and hoping she matched Nicky’s ice-cold stare.

Nicky scoffed, an evil smirk forming on her pursed lips. “Oh please. Tell that to the girl who was lying on my shoulder 5 minutes ago, letting me pet her and stroke her hair. Or the girl who let me spank her earlier with no retaliation,” she started, her predator gaze burning into Gigi’s skin, making her want to squirm. “Face it, you’ve been practically begging for me to top you all night. You’re so pathetically desperate for it.”

Fuck.

Gigi’s breath quickened, the rise and fall of her chest matching the speed of her frantic heartbeat, sending adrenaline all around her body, electricity shooting down her legs and arms to the tips of her fingers.

Nicky saw that Gigi’s mask was slipping, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Gigi wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or her anger that made her primal instincts kick in, but suddenly she was on top of Nicky, attacking her in a kiss. She used her height to her advantage, leaning over the smaller kiss and cupping her face, as she kissed her with a passion and strength that she wasn’t sure she still had in her.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues, mostly because Gigi was overcome with desire and desperation and a strength of emotion she’d never felt before.

As for Nicky, she kissed back with more precision, but fuelled by the same fire that drove Gigi. She clutched Gigi’s wrist as she kissed her, so hard that Gigi was sure there would be finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. Her movements were more controlled, as if she was set upon taking Gigi apart with ease and leisure, not allowing the other’s frantic movements to make her lose her cool.

When they pulled apart for air, Gigi wasn’t quite sure who’d won in their battle for dominance.

Before she could say another word, Nicky leaned up, so that the two were drawn level with each other, their noses practically touching as they stared into each other’s eyes with animalistic lust. “Someone’s touchy,” Nicky said with a cocky smirk. “Was that a little too close for comfort, darling?”

Gigi didn’t respond. She didn’t know how to respond, now that Nicky could see through her facade. Instead she simply bit the inside of her lip and broke the eye contact, too ashamed of her feelings to look Nicky in the eyes.

Her fucking beautiful eyes.

Nicky reached a hand up to Gigi’s face, delicately tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, before holding up her chin to face her. “Asked you a question, baby.”

Gigi felt a hand slide around her waist, pulling her in closer. Looking at the woman in front of her, Gigi was sure she’d never wanted someone as much in her life. She was so embarrassed, so ashamed that she was so turned on, and somehow it fuelled the emotion and made it even stronger.

She didn’t give a shit about who topped anymore. She just needed Nicky.

“Fuck the bet.”

Nicky smiled, tapping her nose. “That’s what I like to hear, baby. Call us a taxi. If you can still talk, that is.”

~

The taxi ride felt like the longest ride of her life. The only thing that kept Gigi tethered to reality was Nicky’s hand clutching hers tightly. But it couldn’t distract her from the aching need between her legs, and the quickening of her breath, which verged on hyperventilation at this point.

They sat in silence for a while, Gigi too consumed by her own thoughts, and Nicky having played the ‘I don’t speak much English’ to avoid awkward small talk with the taxi driver. The silence was broken, however, when Nicky leaned in and started placing butterfly kisses all over Gigi’s neck, feather-light. Gigi couldn’t help but melt into the touch, closing her eyes tight and imagining that they were anywhere but stuck inside a taxi, seatbelts holding them firmly in place. Gigi enveloped her in another frantic kiss, all teeth and tongues, and Nicky bit the other girl’s lower lip, reclaiming her dominance and causing Gigi to inhale sharply.

Before she knew it she was palming at Nicky’s chest over her red dress, longing for some sort of contact, and Nicky was sucking a precise mark onto Gigi’s neck that left her writhing. It caused a whine to escape from Gigi’s lips, a desperate, needy whine that made Nicky swear under her breath, and without a second for Gigi to comprehend what was happening, a hand was clamped firmly over her mouth.

It was animalistic, really, the way they clutched at each other. The bet was long forgotten in Gigi’s mind. She had never felt so strongly about another woman, never wanted anyone like this before. She was usually the one in control, the one who had made countless other girls writhe beneath her in the past.

Oh how the tables had turned.

When the taxi pulled up slowly at a red light, the two were so enamoured with each other to notice the driver, glaring at them from the rear view window.

“Ahem.”

Startled by the noise, the girls pulled themselves off each other in surprise and embarrassment, sitting up straight like they'd been caught cheating on a test. The cab driver shot each of them a dirty look from the mirror, making Gigi wonder if he was homophobic or one of those uptight straight guys that doesn’t like anyone messing up their car. Either way, that typically wasn’t the type of person Gigi liked.

Nicky shot him an affronted look in the mirror, eyes wide with disbelief, as if to say how dare he. “Do you need some medicine for that cough?” she said in her most sarcastic tone. “Or, uh, how you say….. some manners?”

The driver was silent.

Gigi was proud that they managed to sit in silence for about thirty seconds. But the moment Nicky made eye contact with her, the two erupted into fits of uncontrollable laughter, giggling like schoolchildren and trying to suppress their amusement with whispered pleas of ‘shhh!’ and ‘shut up!’ that were of no avail.

Needless to say, if the driver didn’t like them before that, he certainly didn’t like them now.

Between laughs, Nicky called out a ‘here’s fine’ to the driver, who was very excited to see the back of the pair of laughing hyenas from his car. Nicky tossed him a couple of bills, before pulling Gigi out of the car by her wrists, the two still unable to suppress their laughter.

They stumbled down the street as if they were both drunk, falling over each other and cackling, too caught up in their happiness to feel the cold chill on their skin.

It almost distracted Gigi from the need between her legs.

Almost.

“My apartment is a couple blocks away, but I couldn’t sit in that cab any longer,” Nicky chuckled. “A walk won’t do us any harm, anyway.”

Gigi smiled, her gaze lingering over Nicky’s for a little too long. “Babe, you’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

Nicky cocked her head to the side, bemused. “And what makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. It’s like I’ve known you for years. You’re so fun. And so nice,” she started, grabbing onto Nicky’s arm. “And simultaneously a complete bitch.”

Nicky smirked. “I thought you were being nice for a second, but I’ll take it.”

“Bitch, you knew exactly what you were doing to me at the bar. You can’t tell me that wasn’t a dick move.”

“You liked it though.”

Gigi laughed, biting her lip slightly. “Hate to admit it.”

Nicky looked amused. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, darling.”

“You’re cute all the time. Drop dead fucking gorgeous, actually.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty girl.”

Gigi would be lying if she didn’t feel herself blush a little at that.

“So, about tonight… do you still want me to top? Because if you’re not comfortable we can-“

“No! No, no, I want you to top. Please.”

“Are you sure darling? Because if you want-“

“I’m sure. I don’t think I could top you if I tried.”

Nicky laughed to herself. “Aw, she finally admits it at last.”

“Fuck you,” Gigi whined, hitting Nicky playfully on the arm.

Nicky raised her eyebrows, a stern expression creeping onto her face. “None of that language baby. I wanna make you feel really good, darling, but I can only do that if you’re a good girl for me, okay?”

Gigi felt a lump in her throat. “I’ll try. I’ve never done this before though. Subbed.”

“That’s okay, angel, we don’t have to go too far.” Nicky smiled reassuringly at the girl. “But I know what I’m doing. I know how to make you feel really really good, so I need you to trust me, okay?”

Gigi wasn’t sure why, but she did.

~

“Put your hands above your head, bitch.”

“You get into character quickly, don’t you?” Gigi remarked, staring directly into Nicky’s eyes, which were centimetres from her face. She felt the weight of Nicky’s hips pressing harder into hers, forcing her against the hard wood of the apartment door.

“Don’t be cocky, baby. I already told you it’s not a good look,” Nicky replied, grabbing Gigi’s wrists and holding them above her head herself.

Nicky’s pupils were blown wide, and they scanned the face of the girl before her with an intimate precision that Gigi had never witnessed before. Gigi smirked. She liked this new side to Nicky, this dominant persona who seemed set upon making her unravel.

But of course, Gigi wasn’t about to make things easy for her.

With that, she leaned forward and planted another kiss on Nicky’s parted lips, her tongue sliding into her mouth and her eyes closing shut, transfixed by the softness that she buried herself into.

The kiss was short-lived, however, when Nicky pulled away sharply, one arm pushing Gigi back against the door. Her head bumped against it lightly, and a stern gaze took over Nicky’s features, a mixture of anger and lust. “Thought you were going to be a good girl for me, angel,” she said, tucking a strand of Gigi’s hair behind her ear. “Good girls don’t touch without permission.”

“I can’t help it. You just look so good,” Gigi husked, biting her lip sensually, and Nicky let out a shattered breath, Gigi’s dilated pupils meeting her own.

Nicky slid her knee in between Gigi’s thighs. “If you don’t start behaving, we’re going to have a problem.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

In one swift motion, Nicky pulled Gigi forward by her wrists, landing a slap on her ass over her black dress. “Bedroom. Now.”

~

The night was a blur of silk bed sheets and passion. The smell of sweat and sex was in the air, the cool breeze from the open window mingling with the heat on their skin. The marks of ropes around Gigi’s wrists and scratches on her skin and love-bites on her neck were still there the next day. And, so was Nicky, to Gigi’s surprise.

Gigi was the first to awaken of the two the next morning. The New York skyline was illuminated by the golden sunrise that seeped through the silk curtains. The plump pillow that Gigi’s head was buried in was soft against her bare skin, and she propped it up against the bed frame, sitting up a little as she stretched and yawned, hands rubbing her eyes. The cold morning air hit her shoulders as she made herself comfortable.

She found herself with only the littlest portion of blanket keeping her decent - the rest was wrapped around Nicky like a sleeping bag, and she curled it up in her arms like she was cuddling a toy.

She presumed that the duvet was her replacement for Gigi when she had rolled over.

Gigi looked down at the woman beside her, laying on her side, her face a picture of peacefulness. Her blonde hair was spread out on the pillow around her head like a halo, and even the remnants of mascara and eyeliner around her eyes didn’t distract from the purity of her features. Her mouth was open just a little, and soft breaths escaped her lips as her chest rose and fell like a metronome.

She was beautiful.

Gigi was extremely glad that she had let her stay the night at her apartment. To be honest, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to make it home after the night she had.

Looking at Nicky fast asleep, Gigi would have never believed that it was the same woman from last night.

But, she was glad that it was. She liked that Nicky could be sexy and dominant, and then immediately switch back to being caring and sweet.

The sentiment was true last night, with Nicky offering Gigi all the cuddles and kisses she could as they drifted to sleep. Gigi remembered falling asleep to Nicky aimlessly stroking her hair, whispering something french in her ear.

And god did Gigi need that.

The night was the hottest in Gigi’s life. Nicky had tied her to the bedposts, and made her beg for her to eat her out. When she finished, Gigi found herself doing the same for Nicky, her head being roughly thrust between her legs. And then she was being fingered, and the cycle continued until she’d come more times than she could remember.

It was dirty and humiliating, but god it was hot.

The best part though, was that she got to know Nicky some more. She was surprisingly such a sweetheart, taking such good care of Gigi after they played. Gigi didn’t think anyone could make her want to sub, but she especially didn't expect it to be someone who was really kind.

Trust Jackie to know the perfect woman.

It was then that Gigi remembered the bet.

Shit.

She knew that even if she didn’t admit that she subbed, her friends would find out one way or another. Drinks were on her this weekend. Good thing she’d saved a little money. She guessed she’d be hearing about the milkshake incident for a little while longer, too.

That was ok, she supposed. After the night she’d had with Nicky, it was worth the embarrassment.

Besides, without the bet she would’ve never met Nicky.

She looked down at the still sleeping girl, her nose scrunched and her brows furrowed. She was adorable.

Gigi was definitely going to ask her out on a date.

Maybe they could go get some milkshakes together.

[emisfritish]

The risk is took to blossom (Part 4)

Pairing : Sarawat / Tine (2gether the series)

Summary : Five times someone talked Tine through his self-doubt and helped him see his worth, and the one time he didn’t need them to. Chapter : 4/6

Previous chapters : 1 / 2 / 3

Next chapters : 5 / 6

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

“Guys, guys, check this out ! I’ve been practicing since last night,” screams Peuk excitedly and Tine, Ohm and Fong all turn towards him.

They are currently standing in front of the music room, just laughing and spending time together until the meeting starts and Tine has to go inside.

Because of Tine spending more time with the band for their rehearsals and concerts, he hasn’t had as much time to spend with his friends. So today after eating together at lunch, they had all decided that they would walk him over to the music room to hang out with him as much as they could before he had to go.

“So, what is this grand novelty you want to show us,” Ohm says sarcastically. 

“Watch and be amazed,” answers Peuk with a grin, before he rounds his mouth and starts burping the alphabet. 

Ohm immediately bursts out laughing at his friend, bending in half and holding his stomach to try to hold the laughter in. Fong is looking at Peuk as if he’s never seen him do this stuff before, which is ridiculous because they’ve all been friends long enough to remember all the gross things that the different members of their group of friends have done over the years. Tine doesn't know if he feels disgusted or if he wants to laugh at how hilarious he finds seeing the pure concentration Peuk is puttin into the task right now.

“Oh my god, Stop ! This is so disgusting,” he ends up saying while laughing at his friend.

Peuk, who has managed to burp more than half of the alphabet by now, which is admittedly impressive, Tine has to admit, stops and looks at Tine deadpan.

“Oh really Tine ? You’re going to judge, Mister ‘I think the funniest joke ever is to burp right in your ear’ ?” he asks sarcastically.

“How DARE you ?! I would never do such a thing,” Tine answers, pretending to be offended and clutching his chest with his hand.

“You literally did it to me last week !” shouts Ohm.

“No, but Tine has grown so much in a week guys, you couldn’t potentially understand. He’s above all of that right now,” teases Fong, making Ohm and Peuk laugh out loud again.

“I’ll kill you,” Tine says in answer, before he jumps on Fong laughing and they both fall to the floor, landing on their back. Just in time for Tine to see P’Dim standing right above him.

“Oh, real mature Tine,” he says in a flat voice, and Tine feels himself blush.

“So… How long have you been there exactly ?” he asks his P in a small voice, and P’Dim rolls his eyes at him.

“Long enough to know your friend would probably be really good at the flute if he ever wanted to play,” he mutters back. 

All three of Tine’s friends are now all back on their feet, and they snort in laughter at the comment. Tine eventually finds the strength to get up to face P’Dim.

“Well if you’re done being idiots, the meeting is about to start,” he announces, and Tine winces at how unimpressed he sounds. “I swear Tine, sometimes I wonder how Sarawat can even put up with having a boyfriend who is a child like you,” he announces with a glare.  

And the comment kind of knocks the air out of Tine’s lungs.

“Hey ! Not cool, P’ ! Our boy here is THE best boyfriend !” says Peuk in answer, the other two nodding in agreement immediately.

P’Dim just rolls his eyes and makes his way into the music room, and Tine turns towards his friends, sending them a forced smile. 

“We’ll go now, but don’t listen to him, okay ? The man obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about !” says Ohm to try and reassure him.

Tine appreciates the sentiment, he really does. But the thing is, P’Dim does kind of know what he’s talking about. Because unlike his three friends, he does have a boyfriend. So wouldn’t that mean he’s actually one of the most qualified to say who does and doesn’t make good boyfriend material ? And what if he’s actually not a good boyfriend after all. What if Sarawat is tired of him being immature and silly, and just never…

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a hand falling on his shoulder, and he looks in front of him to see Fong standing there, looking at him seriously. 

“Don’t overthink this, okay ?” he says quietly, and Tine just nods in answer, before turning towards the music room to make his way inside while his friends leave. 

Once in the room, he quickly notices Sarawat standing at the back of the room, leaning against the wall. He makes his way over to him and leans next to him, their hands brushing between them.

“Hi,” says Sarawat when he turns towards him and smiles, his eyes squinting a little with the force of his smile.

“Hey Wat,” Tine answers, brushing his shoulder against his boyfriend’s before he turns towards the front of the room where P’Dim, P’Air and other senior members are standing. 

Sarawat bends down to press a quick closed-mouthed kiss on his shoulder, before also turning towards the front of the room. 

Throughout the entire meeting, Tine can’t seem to focus, and he keeps repeating P’Dim’s words over and over in his head. He knows that P’Dim probably made this comment off-handedly and didn’t mean for it to have this much of an impact on Tine, but he actually might have a point, and Tine can’t stop thinking about that.

Sarawat tends to be a bit more serious than Tine, in general. He also always had so much stuff going on with his music, football practice, his classes and everything else, that he never used to goof around a lot. Not until he met Tine, at least. Did he wish Tine was more serious ? Was Tine actually a bad influence on him without even realizing it before ?

What if Sarawat is actually tired of Tine behaving like a child and never said so before...

No, he knows that is probably not the case. He and Sarawat talk a lot, and after everything Sarawat has done to quiet down Tine’s insecurities over different subjects, it’s unfair to just assume Tine knows how he’s feeling. Sarawat would have told him if that were the case… right ?

The meeting goes by and Tine knows that Sarawat tries to engage with him a couple times, whether it be through a brush of his hand against his or by turning towards him to share a joke about something P’Dim said. Yet, Tine can’t pull himself out of his thoughts enough to properly respond and he just smiles weakly towards Sarawat every time it happens. Eventually, the other boy stops trying, probably understanding that Tine is lost in his own thoughts right now.

Just as the meeting is coming to an end, Earn makes her way towards them and she smiles kindly at Tine, before turning towards Sarawat with a glare. 

“Wat, you and I need to discuss business. What was that with adding a song to the set list for rehearsals without consulting me beforehand. Did you think I wouldn’t notice ?” she asks sternly, both of her hands placed on her hips. 

Sarawat sighs, and Tine knows him well enough to know that Earn not noticing was probably exactly what he was hoping for, actually. He feels a little sorry for him, because he knows that an angry Earn is a force to reckon with, but at the same time his boyfriend did kind of bring this on himself. 

Both Sarawat and Earn are the ones responsible for creating the set list of songs for CTRL S to sing at concerts together, and Earn takes the responsibility very seriously. Sarawat should have known better. 

“I told you Desktop Error was too difficult to play,” she says, before pulling on his wrist. “Come with me, because we are talking about this and I don’t want to traumatize Tine when I castrate his boyfriend in front of him.”

Resisting the pull for a second, Sarawat turns towards Tine and looks at him intently, silently asking if he will be okay while he leaves with Earn. 

Tine knows that Sarawat noticed that something wasn’t quite right during the meeting, as the other boy always does. And he loves him for worrying about it, even though he thinks what he should actually be worried about right now, is the look on Earn’s face. 

Tine nods and smiles reassuringly towards him, thinking that a moment to compose himself is probably what he needs anyway,  and Sarawat lets himself be pulled away by Earn, their bickering lingering behind them. 

Deciding that he needs some air, Tine makes his way outside and leans on his forearms against the small wall where Sarawat and him often come to share food during the breaks they get in club meetings. 

Does he really behave like a child all of the time ? God, it must be so exhausting for Sarawat sometimes, if that’s the case. It’s true that Tine isn’t always the most mature, he enjoys goofing off with his friends and with Sarawat too much. But did Sarawat like it as much as he does ? He had to, right ? 

“Tiiine ja,” he hears a voice call from behind him, and he turns around to see a smiling Green walking towards him. 

“Hi Green,” he says with a small smile, before turning back to look at the courtyard in front of him. 

Green comes next to him, his elbows resting on the wall and looking in the same direction Tine is, before he nudges him with his shoulder. 

“What’s gotten into you baby gay,” he says teasingly, and Tine sighs. 

“I’m not gay, I’m bis…” he starts repeating for what must be the 10th time to Green. 

“You’re bisexual, I know. You have to agree though, ‘baby bisexual’ doesn’t have quite the same ring to it,” he says with a wink.

“Then maybe you should just stop with the nicknames,” Tine says looking at him, and Green just smiles brightly in answer.

“Never !” he exclaims. “Come on, you know you love me.”

Tine rolls his eyes at the statement, but he doesn’t have the heart to refute it. It’s not like it’s entirely wrong anyway.

Considering everything that happened when him and Green first met, Tine never thought the two of them would actually ever become friends. Yet, here they are today. The two of them are so different from one another, but once he stopped being scared of Green tirelessly pursuing him, Tine had finally gotten to know the actual Green instead of the one he had made up in his mind, and he found that he quite enjoyed the other boy. Green was still as dramatic as ever, but he also had kindness as well as sassyness in spades, and Tine could appreciate both of those.

“Seriously though, what’s gotten into you ?” Green asks, pulling him out of his reminiscing. “You seemed kind of off during the meeting.”

“Nothing serious. I was just kind of lost in thought.” 

“Well that much was obvious,” responds Green while rolling his eyes dramatically. He had never been known to back off easily though, and Tine shouldn’t have expected it to be the case today. 

“Come on, talk to me Tine !” he says, nudging him with his shoulder again. And, well… Maybe it isn’t the worst idea, actually. Green having a boyfriend, he’s bound to know more about what constitutes good boyfriend material better than the rest of his friends, at least.

“What do you think makes P’Dim a good boyfriend ?” Tine finally asks turning towards Green, and he sees the other boy frown his eyebrows in confusion before becoming pensive instead.

“I don’t really know, it’s not really one thing...” he starts to explain. “First, he is quite good looking, we have to give him that,” he continues with a proud smirk. “He’s also very kind, in spite of his gruff exterior. I think what I like the most though, is how he manages to ground me. Dim is quite serious most of the time. He’s responsible, mature and he takes things seriously, which is really refreshing in a relationship and something that I need.”

As Green is listing the attributes that make P’Dim a good boyfriend, Tine starts to feel a little nauseous and his grip on the wall where his hands are resting starts getting tighter. 

Grounding. Mature. Responsible.

Tine is virtually none of those things. God, he must make it so difficult for Sarawat to stand him sometimes. He knows that Sarawat loves him, the other boy has made that clear. But does he like him though ? What if he is tired of Tine’s childlike antics, and of being roped into them ?

When Green stops talking, Tine lifts his eyes up towards him and finds him studying him intently.

“What is this about, Tine ?” he asks softly.

“Green, I’m none of those things ! You said it yourself, the fact that P’Dim is mature and responsible is important and what you like most about your relationship… I know Wat loves me, but what if I’m not actually what he needs ? We’re very different people, Green, what if…” 

Tine is trying not to panic, he really is, but it’s difficult to do when faced with the fact that maybe he’s not actually good for Sarawat. They love each other, but is that enough ?

“Okay, slow down Tine,” Green stops him mid-sentence, turning towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder to ground him.

“But what if P’Dim is right though, Green ? How can Sarawat actually stand to…” he starts to freak out, before Green cuts him off again.

“Okay. What did Dim say exactly ?” he asks sternly.

When Tine repeat P’Dim’s comment from before, he sees Green’s face close off before the man sighs deeply. 

“You know, one thing my boyfriend definitely isn’t, is sensitive,” he affirms in a deadpan voice. “You know he didn’t mean that, he was just being an asshole.”

“But what if…”

“AND even if he did,” Green cuts him off once again. The feeling of Green squeezing his shoulders with his hands, gets him to stop talking and he looks straight into Green eyes instead, desperate for reassurance. 

“Even if he did mean it,” Green continues. “It doesn’t matter. What he thinks, or even what I think, doesn’t actually matter. I think there is something you fundamentally misunderstood in what I was saying.”

“Go on…” Tine says in a small voice when Green doesn’t continue his thought, but not wanting to get his hopes up too quickly just in case.

“Those things I listed ? They’re what makes Dim a good boyfriend for me. But Tine, honey, there is no one way to be a good boyfriend. It’s all so dependent on the person you’re with, and sometimes people just click. Sometimes you find your match, and they’re not perfect, but they’re perfect for you nonetheless. So please, don’t let P’Dim’s words put into doubt what you know to be true. You and Sarawat are good together, everyone can see that,” Green tells him, his eyes never leaving Tine’s, making sure he understands how serious he is. 

Tine feels the anxiety that was making his chest heavy start to let off a little, and he takes one deep breath. Okay. What Green is saying actually makes sense. Wat and Green are two very different people, it only makes sense that they would have very different needs. 

“I just worry because… I honestly think Sarawat is perfect for me, Green. And I know people just say that, but I truly mean it. He really sees me, and he makes me into a better person, and I just… I love him. All of him. I even love the things about him that drive me nuts. I just want to make sure that it goes both ways, and that I’m actually good for him too…” Tine explains in a small voice. “Maybe I should ask him if there’s anything else he feels that he needs from me ?”

“Oh honey,” Green says, and Tine can read the pride shining in his eyes. “You can if that will make you feel better. From what I know about you two, you communicate enough that I think it would have already come up if it was the case, but yes, if it’ll help, ask him. For what it’s worth, though ? I think the fact that you’re even asking yourselves these questions is a sign that you’re a pretty perfect boyfriend yourself.”

At those words, Tine feels his throat tighten a little, and he feels his shoulders sag with relief. It’s stupid, but maybe this is what he needed to hear. He just needed to get some affirmation that he was doing good, by someone who isn’t Sarawat, and therefore isn’t blinded by love. 

Tine lifts his hand to where one of Green’s is still resting on his shoulder, and he squeezes his wrist, trying to convey his gratitude through the gesture. 

“Plus Tine, you’re obviously perfect boyfriend material. Because I fell for you, and we both know that I have the best taste,” he says with a smirk, causing Tine to snort. 

“Come on Green, you didn’t actually fall for me. You were just trying to annoy your boyfriend and make him jealous,” he says with an eye roll, and he sees Green looking at him incredulously. 

“Yes, and why do you think you made the perfect candidate for the job ? You’re smart, funny, a good friend, and very pretty to top all of that. Of course Dim was going to get jealous, you’re a catch Tine.” he tell him with a grin, and Tine nudges his shoulder to make him stop, feeling his cheeks heat up with the compliments. 

Before he has to think of an answer, he notices Sarawat running towards them, his cheeks flushed and a huge grin on his face. 

“Oh Tine, you’re here ! Thank god,” he says when he gets closer to him. “Here, take this and hide it. And if Earn asks, you never saw me.” Sarawat gives him an elastic band, and goes back to running to hide in the music room.

Not even 10 seconds later, Earn comes running and she immediately comes to a stop in front of Tine.

Looking at her, he can see the mess her hair is in, and he sighs understanding that Sarawat probably stole her hair band and ran off. These two, seriously.

“Tine, where is that boyfriend of yours ?” she demands. 

“I don’t…” he starts to say, but she cuts him off and raises a finger accusingly to his face.

“Don’t you dare say you don’t know, or I’ll tell Pear you were mean to me and you know she’ll be disappointed and give you the puppy eyes next time you see each other,” she says sternly.

“Oh no, I can’t deal with the puppy eyes,” he whines. “He went that way,” he points towards the music room Sarawat just entered. Boyfriend privileges be damned. He’s not stupid and he knows which side to pick in this particular battle.

Earn turns towards where he indicated and starts shouting while she makes her way over there. 

“Sarawat ! Give me back my hair band or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Both Green and Tine are watching the scene unfold with interest, and they see Sarawat exit the room not even a minute later with Earn chasing him close behind. His laughter can be heard from where they are still standing, and Tine feels a smile grow on his face at the sound of Sarawat’s happiness. 

“Oh yeah. Clearly, he’s way more mature and responsible than you are in the first place,” Green finally says, sarcasm obvious in his tone. 

And, well… He does have a point. 

“The way I see it, you turned a boy that spent a lot of time being closed off and frowning into the laughing boy we saw just now. I’d say that’s the sign of a pretty good boyfriend, if you ask me,” Green continues with a smile, before he squeezes Tine’s shoulder one last time and goes to make his way inside. 

Tine smiles at the words, happy to hear that he is possibly partly to thank for Sarawat’s happiness right now. Maybe he’s not the most mature and responsible all of the time, but that’s okay. Him and Sarawat can just be immature and goofy together. 

“Green,” he calls, stopping the other man before he goes too far. The other boy turns towards him and Tine smiles gratefully. “Thank you,” he continues meaningfully.

“You’re very welcome baby gay,” the other man responds with a wink, and Tine sighs at the words. 

He’ll let it slide. Just this once.