#no one recognises her if she's not angry

[ps1demodisk]

Wowie I love Vivian

[thepromisedbride]

i don’t talk about bridgerton on here but just to clarify. i will not be having ANY eloise hate on this account. i will bite.

[karaspal]

i don’t want to say my takes on supergirl are better than most people’s, but i did read most of new 52 supergirl without my only takeaway being “kara is angry and hates humans” so perhaps my takes are better than most people’s.

guys. friends. pals. i’m begging you. stop. kara cares about people. and anger is a normal part of grief. it was there. but it wasn’t her only personality trait. learn some literary understanding. the difference between her and clark isn’t that he cares and she doesn’t. enough with that!!! kara zor-el might be a lot of things, but one things she’ll never be is indifferent when it came to people’s suffering. humans included.

“kara doesn’t care about humans because they aren’t kryptonian” reads as elitism to me. and i know she grew up in the house of el where elitism was sometimes the case (depending on the era). BUT. she is better than this. that’s the point. she cares about everyone. kara and kal are the better future of the house of el. the difference between them isn’t that he cares and she doesn’t. so enough with that. the equivalent of “kara hates humans” is john byrne’s superman btw where clark didn’t care about krypton and only earth.

kara can miss krypton, her people and her culture without hating another. she can feel like an outsider on earth without hating its people. i mean, kara spent her entire new 52 run meeting and bonding with other people, most of them humans. so idk why people are so adamant she hated humans. i know people want to be a difference between kara and clark, but taking away kara’s compassion will never be the correct way to establish that difference.

[ccbatman]

I once said that I thought Steph would make a great Black Canary, and I still think that's one of the realest takes I've ever had.

Like, this moment seared itself into my head and never faded:

{ Robin 80-Page Giant }

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[girllookingoutwindow]

Colin tried to sleep but he was lost in his inner thoughts. Seeing her, at night, so beautiful and dreamy. Her lips, her body, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He tries to remember how it felt to touch her, the softness of her skin. Her breath close to his. He's full of desire for her. He always wants to be close to her. Now she feels so close and so far away. He wanted so much to touch her, to kiss her.

Why he can't stop thinking about it? Why he couldn't do the only one thing that feels right to him?

He was hurt. And even if he feels ashamed of himself, he can't deny he wanted to hurt her too.

Her words suprised him. And making him come back to the room. She looks so pretty. She's talking but she's not really looking at him. It takes him a moment to understand what she's saying.

Her voice sounds sad, distant. He wanted to punish her. Making her feel sad. But now, he doesn't recognise himself through that feelings.

Before he can even get up she's gone. His body feels attached to her. The room feels so empty now.

She said something of him not wanting to be close to her. She doesn't know?

He follows her, he doesn't know why. Honestly, that's not true, he knows why. Because his body feels more at easy close to hers. Because everytime she goes away he feels his heart goes tight and he cannot breath. He miss her so much when she's not there. Life without her it's not a life. He feels like he's dead inside.

Why she doesn't know?

Maybe is his fault. He wanted to punish her. But why doesn't feel right? He's angry with her. But he's more angry with himself.

Perhaps he can try to write. Through words his feelings came more easy to the surface. But lately his words don't feel 'his' anymore. It was possible he was a little jealous of her. He needs to find an answer.

Penelope letters were the reason because he started to write. Everytime he read a letter from her, life felt more easy, more peaceful, more vibrant.

He couldn't stop himself to connect this feelings with his words. Words came a place to being his true self. So, he could find a purpose. A better version of himself. Pen made him believe he could be a better man. The man he wanted to be for her.

He recognises her letters. The first time he read it. The way he missed them whe she stopped to write to him.

He remembers the warm she made him feel. Her letters made him feel close to home. She was his home. She's his home. It's always being her, sweet and kind. But at the same time smart, sassy and funny. That's her. That's his Pen. The Penelope he always loved. He can recognise her now. He can hear her voice through her letters. And she always was her. Lady Whistledown, Penelope Featherington. They were the same. Both were his Pen.

[hedgehog-moss]

Look, friends.

Do you think this is a post about my adorable baby succulents? No. Look harder.

It's about the GIANT HOLE IN MY FENCE that I had to patch up with cardboard.

I can't blame Pampérigouste for this one; the brutish nature of the damage is not consistent with her usual modus operandi. Pampe outsmarts locks like Arsène Lupin; she doesn't charge at fences like a bull who saw a red cloth. This is Pampe Pondering A Fence Problem:

No, the damage to my fence looked a lot more mindless this time. Boorish. Boar-ish. I'm blaming a boar. A deer would have destroyed the whole thing rather than just the lower half. Note that there is not a single tuft of llama wool on the damaged wire mesh.

(Note no.2: the boar's smile was originally meant to be a tusk but it really just looks like a sardonic smile)

I brought some chicken wire to patch up the hole—but there wasn't enough of it. Then it started raining and I felt persecuted and decided to just cover the hole with cardboard and go have my morning coffee and get back to this later.

This is not an Innocent Pampe post; there is no such thing. My temporary cardboard solution lasted 8 to 10 minutes. I'm not sure exactly when she got out, but by the time I went back outside to repair the fence there was a Pampe-shaped hole in the cardboard.

(Not really; she just kind of lifted or ate a corner then wormed her way through the very small opening. I think.) (See, this is how you recognise a Pampe escape: you're not entirely clear on what went down, you just know there was a llama inside and now there is a llama outside.)

It was still raining and I didn't feel like going after her, plus it felt pointless to bring her back in her pasture before the fence was repaired, so I went in the barn to look for my tools and rummage through leftover pieces of previously-destroyed fences, hoping to find something the right size.

Then I heard Pampelune's hyena shriek, aka the llama alarm call. It was followed by:

horrified chicken screams and frantic feather noises; the soundtrack of a violent fox attack

infuriated barking from Pandolf

very loud panicked braying from Pirlouit

basically, chaos.

I ran outside just in time to see Pampe emerging from the woods at a full gallop, pursued by a bear. I didn't immediately identify the animal that was chasing her as the giant dog that he was, because he was running with a weird gait, with his legs going everywhere like he was frolicking at top speed (I now know that this dog is a puppy that has learnt to run just a few months ago, but that didn't occur to me at the time because this puppy is the size of a calf.)

Pampe was running towards the cardboard through which she had escaped and she managed to squeeze through her small corner hole again (I assume—there were trees blocking my line of sight and I only saw her again once she was in the pasture, running for her life along with the other 2 llamas + donkey.) Meanwhile, the dog didn't see the corner hole and tried to power through the cardboard much like a boar, or was carried away by his momentum and didn't brake in time; I don't know. In any case, when I reached him, he was stuck.

My large piece of cardboard was tied to the fence posts and still holding strong, but the middle was a bit soggy with rain and not too solid, so the dog's head went right through it. The rest of his body didn't.

He could have probably finished breaking the cardboard quite easily, but for some reason he instantly gave up. On life. By the time I got there the dog was half-in and half-out of the pasture and he looked defeated. Which made my piece of cardboard look like a mediaeval beheading apparatus with just a hole for the head.

I went to lock an angry Pandolf in the barn and checked on the chickens along the way (ruffled & offended but fine); I was hoping the dog would figure out how to extricate his head from the cardboard in the meantime. He did not. I tried to call him in a friendly tone (from behind) to encourage him to free his head by stepping back, but the concept of taking a couple of steps backwards in order to extract his head from the hole might as well have been advanced engineering. He clearly had no idea where his head was, where his body was, how to make the two a coherent whole again, and he started whining pitifully.

I untied the rope I had used to attach the cardboard to the fence posts, then wriggled the piece of cardboard a bit to try and free the dog's head. The dog was alarmed by the wriggling and took several steps back—but I didn't manage to hold on to the cardboard so it just moved with the dog. He clumsily ran away, taking the cardboard with him, wearing it around his neck like the world's largest cone of shame.

He immediately got stuck between two trees.

I was starting to find the situation hilarious, but the poor dog did not—he lay down and started making sad broken noises like a malfunctioning dog-robot. He didn't look very threatening but he was still a very big (and stressed) dog so I felt a bit wary of touching his head to help him, and decided to run home to get a box cutter. I figured I could easily rid him of most of the cardboard and leave him with just a soggy cardboard collar that would soon fall apart. I heard my landline phone ringing from afar and ran faster, and it was one of my nearest neighbours, the retired lady who lives on the plateau.

"I've been trying to reach you!! I saw your llama in my garden earlier, I was going to give her a little treat—" (she loves Pampe, for some reason) "—but then my dog saw her too."

I know this woman's dog—he's a tiny thing with fragile nerves who thinks the whole world is out to get him, so I asked anxiously, "Did Pampe scare your dog?" and she said "Oh no! Domino is here with me; but I have a new dog. His name is Texas."

I thought of the gigantic puppy currently sobbing in my woods, held prisoner by two trees, a self-inflicted cone of shame and his total lack of reasoning skills.

"Yes", I said. "I've met Texas."

The old lady asked worriedly if he'd scared Pampe ("Il est un peu zinzin" she said—he's a bit crazy. "I wanted to call him Rex, but then I met him and thought—Texas!!") I told her I was pleased with her dog for scaring Pampe, because she needs to learn that her pasture is her only hope for safety in this cold uncaring world and as soon as she steps out of it she returns to her lowly status as a prey animal. Then I ended the phone call because I was worried both about Texas and about the large hole in my fence. Thankfully all my animals were still terrified and hiding far, far away from Texas.

Texas actually managed to free himself before I attempted to cut the cardboard, but he still thought of me as his saviour and was very happy to follow me through the woods back to his owner's place. Before we left I propped up the cardboard against the damaged fence, and despite the hole in the middle no llamas escaped in my absence; I think the whole area still smelled like Texas and fear.

I'll admit I was initially tempted to leave Texas with his head stuck in the cardboard in a more permanent capacity in order to patch the hole in my fence with this amazing anti-Pampe Cerberus. Like this

(I know this artistic rendering makes my llamas look like frightened carrots and my donkey like a bunny but I will not be taking constructive criticism at this time)

[jenscx]

KISS ME MORE — ning yizhuo

tldr: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

tags fluff, crack, jealousy, non-idol au, roommates, based off that one reddit story, short fic, dialogue heavy, mentions of jmj, hi yunjin! tw for oblivious ning, pacing’s weird kinda

wordcount 5.2k

🎙️ author’s note: happy birthday ning! late fic ik… but i’ve been busy (i’m sorry 😞) hope our dearest main vocal stays happy for the rest of her life! can’t imagine aespa without her 🤍 happy reading~

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 16 hours ago.

TLDR: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

i am currently roommates with this girl, A. we've been staying together ever since we graduated and we’re very close. sometimes we’ll even jokingly flirt with each other but she knows i’m straight and she has never made me uncomfortable before. i’m a foreigner and A has definitely helped me grow accustomed to the culture here. i owe it all to her. which is why i’m confused about my feelings right now.

i’ve never thought of myself to be discriminatory towards anyone and i always welcomed those different from me, regardless of their sexual orientation. however, recently my roommate has come out to me. i supported her and didn’t think much of it after. but here’s where the problem starts. she came back with a girl a few days ago that i recognise from our extended friend group. i have nothing against gay people but when i saw the girl, i just felt so upset. at first i thought it was because i was in a bad mood and all i wanted was to cuddle with A, but afterwards, A would progressively get more touchy with that girl (lets call her Y). every time i would see them, i just felt bad. i wanted to puke at the sight.

i caught them making out on the couch once and i got so pissed off. i think it was because of a rough day but basically when my roommate started to apologise, i just blew her off. Y seemed embarrassed too. i felt really bad afterwards since A was really hurt by my action. she asked me why i was so angry and i just lied saying that something at work made me upset. i don’t want to tell her that it was because seeing her with a girl that i was annoyed.

there was another incident where she brought Y to our weekly game night. all my friends seemed fine with her, except for me. one of my friends, let’s call her M, had to pull me aside to ask what was wrong with me. in that moment, i realised that i was only hurting A and Y by being a jerk. i’m normally a polite person but that day i was being unnecessarily rude to someone i didn’t even know. i chalked it up as wanting only the best for A since she’s a year younger than me and wanting to protect her. she doesn’t really date anyone and she’s very quiet. am i being unreasonable? i really don’t want to be homophobic. i told M all about my feelings of homophobia and she told me that she was dating a girl too. i didn’t know why she brought it up but then she asked if i felt any disgust towards her for being gay. i said no and that her sexual orientation would never change our friendship.

so she asked why do i only feel that way towards A? and i want to extend that question to everyone here too. can someone help? do you have any experience with something like this? i don’t want to lose A as a friend. she’s one of my best friends and i can’t see myself not standing beside her in the future. we’ve been through a lot together and i don’t want this to be the reason why we end our friendship. she’s never once complained about my dating life and it feels hypocritical to do the same to hers. but i just feel queasy whenever she brings up other girls. like i want to bash my head against the wall type.

do i have selective homophobia? can someone help?

⇧ 157 | ⇩ | 89 comments

u/betterthingz01 | 12h

op i hate to break this to you… but i think you might be in love with your roommate.

u/throwawaylizard | 12h

can you elaborate? please!!!

u/flatearther | 11h

Are u sure u don’t have a crush on A? Or that u are straight?

u/throwawaylizard | 10h

uhm well i’m straight… so i don’t think i have a crush on A but if i was into girls, i’d definitely fall in love with her!! she’s really sweet and caring.

u/flatearther | 10h

Oh 😭😭

u/mingmingz | 7h

how do you feel if your roommate brought back a different girl? maybe you just don’t like Y as a person?

u/throwawaylizard | 7h

she used to bring other girls around too i think they were just friends though. i felt the same way but just seeing her kiss Y makes me want to throw up :((

u/blueskies444 | 5h

have u tried talking to ur roommate? i think communication is the best solution here

u/throwawaylizard | 4h

i talked to her a few days ago, asking her if she could stop bringing Y to our hangouts or apartment because it feels weird. our friend group only really consisted of five people and as bad as it sounds, Y just felt like an intruder. she kinda looked at me weird before agreeing. but then she asked if i would be fine if she went to Y’s apartment instead and obviously i said it wasn’t any of my business. A got a little upset and we haven’t been talking recently…

u/blueskies444 | 4h

i’m gonna be real w u for a sec and say that A is most definitely trying to get u jealous

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

why would she do that?

u/blueskies444 | 2h

yeahhh i’m not the one who should tell u why

“ning yizhuo, why am i getting messages from jimin unnie saying that she found your reddit post?” minjeong’s voice shrills out behind yizhuo. the girl shrinks, shivers running down her spine at the thought of anyone finding out about her post. she had resorted to reddit for help after much consideration and even aeri had said that reddit was surprisingly helpful at times.

“that’s not me! you’ve got the wrong person!”

minjeong rolls her eyes and tosses her phone onto yizhuo’s desk, “that’s literally you. ddongie would be upset to know that he’s a throwaway lizard.”

yizhuo instantly protests, “that just means that it isn’t my main account! i didn’t want people to find my real account.”

“oh, so you are throwaway lizard?”

she cowers at minjeong’s intense gaze, knowing that her little slip up just cost her whole facade.

“well the comments were helpful!”

“did you not reread what you typed out?”

minjeong’s genuine tone makes yizhuo hesitate.

“yeah? did i make a lot of spelling mistakes…?”

“no! did you not realise?” minjeong asks again. yizhuo huffs, swerving back around in her chair, “realise what? that i’m a bad friend? y/n hasn’t talked to me in days.”

just as she said in her reddit post, you haven’t spoken a word to her ever since that day she confronted you. yizhuo doesn’t think she was super mean with her words but the way you had reacted made it seemed like she killed your whole family.

she had only said, “hey, can you stop bringing yunjin over?” and her mere words had launched a full-blown argument where you had insinuated that yizhuo was jealous that you had someone to rely on.

it couldn’t have been further from the truth! yizhuo would never be upset about your happiness. any semblance of bitterness had lessened when she saw how bright your smile was or how much you were laughing when yunjin would tell a joke.

(she didn’t find it funny but at least you laughed. yunjin was the epitome of dad jokes. she was not funny.)

“she really hasn’t? wow, she’s determined,” minjeong chuckles.

yizhuo rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her sketchbook. a few scrawned out designs, nothing much. just to take her mind off this situation for now. the pencil drawings somehow only manages to ensure that her brain constantly thinks about you though. how you encouraged her to enrol in a fashion course and how you were certain that yizhuo would become the biggest designer ever known.

she would giggle at your claims and humour you. now all that was left was your silence.

“why would she be determined to ignore me?” yizhuo asks, sighing, “i was upset but now it just seems like she thinks i don’t want her to be happy.”

minjeong raises an eyebrow, “what did the comments say? did they help?”

yizhuo huffs just thinking about the reddit comments. none of them really helped her to identify her feelings. just stating that she was gay and in love. both wrong!

“they said i’m in love with y/n and i’m jealous of yunjin,” she answers coolly, trying not to get too worked up over the false accusations.

minjeong winces, “do you think they’re right?”

yizhuo furrows her eyebrows.

“no?! i’m not gay!”

“but do you like y/n?”

“no! she’s just a very good friend!”

the brunette sighs, “that’s what they all say.”

“minjeong!”

yizhuo couldn’t be in love with you. no way. you were really just a good friend. one of her closest. she adored you greatly and wanted the best for you.

“so why are you so upset?” minjeong asks.

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking reddit! but now i just look like an idiot,” yizhuo groans, wanting to pull her hair out of frustration, which truly shows how irritated she was. she would never harm her hair.

“yizhuo, have you ever considered that you’re not as straight as you thought?”

yizhuo turns back to face minjeong, who’s sitting on her bed. she thinks back to all the times you’ve hung out with her. the lingering touches of comfort. the warmth she felt whenever you spoke.

she just wants her friend back. and she doesn’t know why she’s acting so unreasonable. could minjeong have a point? what if yizhuo…

“oh my gosh! i’m jealous since she’s out and gay—”

minjeong lights up, squealing, “yes!”

“and i’m just a straight girl without any confidence! i’m jealous of her confidence!”

minjeong deflates almost instantly.

yizhuo knows she’s right, so she immediately hatches a plan to talk to you. one comment said communication was vital in preserving this friendship, so yizhuo jumped into action. she knew you had your shifts at night and yizhuo could catch you off-guard right after. your work usually ended late and yizhuo always dozed off on the couch waiting for you. recently that routine has been broken, of course, but that’s when you’re most susceptible to vulnerability. yizhuo needed space to be honest and truthful.

thus, she waits patiently in the living room. yizhuo’s not really sure how long your shift lasts but she normally hears your keys jingle at midnight, so maybe then?

she waits an hour. then another. and then another. she spends the time scrolling on instagram, a frown forming on her face when yunjin appears on her feed.

then, finally, she hears the door creaking. jumping up from her lying position, yizhuo sits upright, focused.

“oh,” is your first word to her. not ‘hi’, or ‘hello’, just an acknowledgment.

yizhuo blinks at the sight of you in your work attire. but she quickly shoves the thought of how attractive you looked into the back of her mind.

“hey,” she winces at her own unfamiliar tone, “can we talk?”

you stare at her in shock before reluctantly nodding.

“yeah, sure.”

she pats the space next to her and clears her throat as you sit down.

“i know i’ve kind of been a jerk lately especially to you and yunjin, but i just want to say that i’m sorry.”

surprise flickers in your eyes, “oh.”

“i talked to minjeong unnie and it really cleared things up. i realised that i was upset because it felt like we weren’t as close as before. knowing that someone like yunjin could come replace me. i was jealous that you had someone while i didn’t. it felt like you were moving on without me, so i got a bit angry. i’m really sorry for the way i treated you and yunjin.”

(their first interaction really went poorly. yizhuo had came home, ready for a long movie night, just to find a random girl (well, not really random) sprawled out on her couch.

“i’m home,” yizhuo calls out, carefully approaching the body. long and lanky is the first thing she notices. and the bright red hair. yizhuo dyed her hair red before, it stained her pillowcase cover. she wonders if this girl’s pillowcase covers are stained with red dye too.

“hey, how was your day?” you ask, laying beside the girl, “sorry, this is yunjin. we just finished a gym session together with aeri unnie. minjeong unnie knows her.”

no wonder why you were barely dressed. yizhuo scrunches her nose at the sight of yunjin’s arm wrapped around your bare torso. she nods and asks quietly, “why is she here?”

you laugh, “i was bragging about my post-gym lunch and she said she wanted to try.”

yizhuo’s never tried your cooking before. she feels a little out of place now.

“ah, okay,” she replies dryly, not bothering to keep her volume down, “is she going to be here all day?”

yunjin wakes up at the commotion, a little disoriented as she shifts.

“oh, shit. sorry, y/nnie,” yunjin yawns, sitting up, “sorry ning, i accidentally fell asleep.”

“it’s yizhuo. only my friends call me ning,” she spits out. you send her a scalding look that makes her want to retract her words, “whatever. sorry. see you guys later.”

at night, just before you leave for your shift, you reprimand her, saying that she was extremely rude to someone she didn’t even know. yizhuo had tuned out most of your scolding, not wanting to hear you defend yunjin.)

“oh…”

yizhuo swallows harshly, squeezing her eyes shut, “i just need you to know i’m not praying for your downfall or anything. i want the best for you, especially since you feel like my younger sister.”

as soon as she finishes her little speech, she opens her eyes to your flabbergasted expression. eyebrows furrowed with your mouth agape.

“uhm… can you forgive me?”

yizhuo really needs you to forgive her. she doesn’t know what she would do if you decided that this was the breaking point for your friendship. she would respect your decision but still, it wouldn’t be nice. who would want that? and if you decided to end the friendship, what would happen with the apartment? yizhuo really likes being roommates with you. it would suck to have to find another roommate as meticulous as you.

“well— uhm, of course,” you stutter, “i gotta go shower. sorry.”

“oh, okay.”

just as you’re about to get up, yizhuo reaches for your hand, “we’re okay, right?”

she watches your throat bobble before rasping out, “yes. we’re fine.”

wow! yizhuo mentally pats herself on the back.

that was so easy. it felt like a whole weight got lifted off her chest. yizhuo smiles to herself and enters her own room, proud.

(meanwhile, in your own room, you vent to yunjin, bewildered by yizhuo’s obliviousness.

“she said i’m like a sister! her absolute gall! and she said it’s because she’s upset she doesn’t have someone like me! your whole jealousy tactic didn’t do shit!”

“girl, calm down. i didn’t know you liked the dumb ones. who knew she was so stupid?”)

you stare at yizhuo, who’s trying her best not to show any disdain for the way yunjin’s arm was slung over your shoulder. she must either be extremely self-repressed or just stupid. probably both. unless she didn’t actually like you. that thought, you didn’t dare to entertain. the once confident and bold girl had turned into this timid and shy kitten.

“take a shot if you’ve kissed someone in this room before!” aeri reads out the card before gulping down her drink. minjeong and jimin do the same and so do a few others. when yunjin shakes you ever so slightly, you take the initiative to swallow down the burning sensation. yizhuo’s glare narrows before she turns away entirely.

subtly grinning at her act of jealousy, you hum happily. there’s an outcry of people asking who aeri kissed and the attention shifts away. most people in your extended friend group had assumed you and yunjin to be dating. the only people who knew the truth were minjeong and aeri. jimin was kept in the dark since well, truthfully, she couldn’t keep a secret from yizhuo.

“take a shot if you ever kissed someone of the same gender.”

there’s more people drinking this time. you drink yours after a refill and so does yunjin. your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when yizhuo drinks as well. wasn’t she straight?

“who did you kiss?!” jimin screeches.

yizhuo wipes her lips, glistening with alcohol, “a friend. it was a dare in high school.”

you listen with rapt attention as aeri eggs on, “was it good? are girls better than guys?”

“well, it was definitely less sloppy,” yizhuo shrugs, giggling. her blush has worsened under the lighting and you can tell she’s at least tipsy now. the redness was currently spreading throughout her cheekbones and neck. you would coo at the adorable sight of her pouting and playing with the soju bottle if she wasn’t the stupidest girl on earth. you noticed how yizhuo drank every time yunjin squeezed your shoulder or you leaned into her touch. was she seriously still so thick?

“take a shot if you ever crushed on someone in this room,” aeri groans, downing her glass again. you drink yours and others follow. it wasn’t unexpected. you were seventy percent sure that most of the guys had crushed on jimin before, at least for a second. or maybe hanbin. he was cute too. that, you could admit.

“aeri… why are all the questions about dating?!” jimin whines, flopping onto the carpeted floor. minjeong winces before exclaiming, “i think she’s drunk now. let’s call it a night, okay?”

you agree. yizhuo looks seconds away from passing out as well and despite your recent gym endeavours, you do not want to carry a twenty four year old woman back home. yunjin taps your side and slyly tilts her head towards yizhuo, who’s leaning against the couch.

“go save your princess, romeo,” she whispers and stands to help minjeong clean up.

after all the bottles had been cleared, you crouched to yizhuo’s eye level, “ning, let’s go. it’s time to go home.”

her eyelids flutter open and she blinks at you wearily, “home?”

you nod, standing to wrap her arm over your shoulder to steady her. finally on her two feet, you bid goodbye to everyone and make your way home, albeit slowly.

every minute or so, yizhuo would jolt and nearly topple over. right as you reach your place, she leans over to the sidewalk drain and gags. you let go instantly and take out your phone to record her. next time she wants to get drunk, you’ll just show her the video. let her reflect.

“yizhuo, hurry up, i wanna shower,” you complain, dragging the hem of her shirt.

“o-okay…!”

“uhm, you have to get up.”

yizhuo nods again, wobbling as she stands. you grip her wrist and pull her into the apartment lobby. her body weighs heavily onto yours in the lift and you huff at the stench of alcohol.

“you smell bad,” you sigh.

“really?” yizhuo giggles, “you don’t like it?” the elevator dings.

she turns around to rest her head on your shoulder.

“i shouldn’t have gotten so drunk…”

“no kidding. c’mon you big baby.”

finally, after much effort, you manage to get yizhuo onto the couch. you’re heaving and panting at the end but at least she’s comfortable.

“please never get this drunk again,” you groan, flopping onto the couch.

yizhuo moans, “not my fault.”

“yeah? who’s fault is it then?”

she flips herself around, facing the ceiling, “y-yours.”

“how is it my fault?”

“you and yunjin…” she slurs out and your heart leaps.

“how is it our fault?”

“you keep touching each other,” yizhuo inhales sharply before mumbling, “i hate it…”

grinning, you pat her back.

“yeah. it’s my fault. sorry baby.”

“hmfph…”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 4 hours ago.

UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hi guys! so i know some of you all have been asking for an update and here it is. there’s really nothing much that has changed? we’re back to normal, mostly. A doesn’t bring Y around as much anymore which honestly, should make me feel guilty but i don’t. we had a talk and i think it went rather well. i told her i felt like i was left behind and she forgave me for being so shitty.

it feels like this was just a hurdle in our friendship and we’re closer than ever. she’s become really touchy with me and i appreciate that things are back to normal. she’s been initiating talks and hangout sessions which boosts my mood immensely. i’m really happy with the progress we made. we’ve even started cooking together and it feels awesome. Y had tasted her cooking before and i didn’t. so it felt like this hole in my heart had been patched up. our movie nights have become solely ours and everything’s great. she’s the sweetest girl i know and the most caring, so i really do feel happy that i have my best friend and roommate back. our cold war was doing a toll on my mental and physical health but a simple conversation had cleared the air so easily.

sometimes when she brings up Y since she still hangs out with her, i do feel a little upset. she told me they aren’t dating, just good friends. but other than that, we’re cool. thanks for all the comments! i’m glad i’m not homophobic :D

⇧ 178 | ⇩ | 102 comments

u/imissher | 3h

op you can’t be serious…

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

? what’s wrong

u/imissher | 2h

it feels as if you haven’t really solved this ‘homophobia’ issue. just put it off to the side.

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

IM NOT HOMOPHOBIC 😭

u/mingzmingz | 2h

well i’m glad? as long as you guys are happy ig. idk what’s up with gay people

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

thank you! i’m not gay though.

u/japansfinest | 1h

HOLY SHIT NING

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

OMG DONT DOX ME???

u/japansfinest | 1h

GIRL BE SERIOUS RN 😐😐

u/1800hotnfun | 1h

i strive to live as blissfully ignorant as you, op

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

not very sure if this is a compliment.

things had reverted back to normal. yizhuo was happy again and it seemed like everything was fine.

so how did she get here?

yizhuo had simply gone out to get groceries for your dinner together and when she arrived home, hands full of plastic bags, she heard the tail of your conversation over the phone.

“i don’t think she’s picking up my hints, yun,” you say in hushed whispers, “maybe she really is straight. or she just doesn’t like me.”

despite yizhuo’s moral compass, she decides to listen in on your conversation. she’s never heard of you liking someone before, or being so insecure. what girl wouldn’t like you back? and you liked a straight girl too?

she can’t hear yunjin’s reply but you let out an exasperated sigh, “maybe she thinks i’m just being a really good friend. i thought she would have already realised i liked her by now. your whole jealousy plan didn’t work either. i mean, it did but not really.”

yizhuo slowly twists the door knob before loudly announcing, “i’m home!”

she hopes that by now, you would have ended the call so she wouldn’t have to interact with yunjin at all.

“oh,” she catches the anxiety in your voice, “did you get everything?”

“yup. there was a sale on apples, so i got those too,” yizhuo says, a little too cheerfully, but she wants to cover up any nervousness. as she places the bags on the kitchen counter, you stand up to help unpack everything.

while you start to arrange all the groceries, yizhuo thinks about your words. liking someone. a girl. a straight girl who was potentially oblivious to your advances?

yizhuo scrunches her nose.

sounds…

familiar.

“hey, did you get healthier milk? the one with less sugar added.”

as you twirl around to ask, yizhuo’s heart gets caught in her throat.

she was the straight oblivious girl.

“uh— yeah. i got both,” she gestures awkwardly to the pile of bags. you nod and go back to sorting everything out. god, she needs a breather. trudging to the couch, she sighs as the softness envelops her. she couldn’t wrap her head around this— you liked her? potentially? definitely?

yizhuo spends the next few minutes having an existential crisis. she was straight! the straight girl that you liked! and that whole jealousy thing with yunjin! you planned that! she can’t believe it. all her nights were spent debating whether she was homophobic or not and it was all a rouse to get her jealous? well, was she jealous? minjeong had seemed intent on getting her to admit that, which she did. but maybe it was because she was jealous of yunjin.

not for taking up your time.

but for being able to touch you and hold you in ways she can’t.

holy shit. she’s not as straight as she once thought.

and she has a huge crush on her roommate.

how could she let reddit comments be right?!

yizhuo stares blankly at the ceiling. you call out from the kitchen, “do you want white or red wine?”

she stands up from the couch, resolute in her decision now.

no wonder you had looked so offended after she sister zoned you! yizhuo would hate it too if all she was to you was an unnie. she wanted— no, needed to be your everything.

“yizhuo?” you ask again, examining the two bottles of wine.

yizhuo almost sprints into the kitchen. the sight of you with your hair up, the cute lace white apron wrapped around your waist, and your focused expression. it has her drooling. everything was so domestic.

how hasn’t yizhuo noticed this sooner?

“white wine please,” she answers when you’re within arms reach.

“are we drinking the whole bottle?”

she stretches out her arms to engulf your body in hers and reads the label on the wine bottle over your shoulder. taking gratification in the way your body shudders, yizhuo hides a pleased smirk.

“hm, should we?” she whispers hotly beside your ear. you shiver before muttering, “maybe. is tonight a special occasion?”

“i mean, it could be,” yizhuo grins, “you were promoted recently, right?”

tonight was one of your day-offs, and you came back recently, boasting about the extra time off you got from being promoted. of course that was celebrated with a simple get together with friends. but yizhuo didn’t get her own special celebration with you.

“yeah? okay, we’ll drink it all then.”

yizhuo smiles into your hair. she’s never felt happier. knowing that her inner frustrations had been settled finally. you were just trying to get her jealous. a good attempt nonetheless, it worked incredibly well. but now she’s certain of her own feelings.

“you smell nice,” she blurts out.

“i used your shampoo. ran out of mine.”

“mhm. smells good.”

yizhuo spots the hint of satisfaction on your face.

“are you complimenting yourself right now?”

“i have really good taste,” she states.

you roll your eyes playfully before detaching her arms but she just slithers them back into place.

“ning, i have to cook.”

“hold on,” she mumbles, “i think we can celebrate another thing.”

sensing your confusion, she continues brazenly, “we can celebrate our first night as a couple, right?”

“what—”

“i’m sorry for being so oblivious this whole time. i got so pissy because i was jealous. apparently, i’m not straight. or i just like you, i don’t know yet. all i know is that i envision myself by your side,” yizhuo explains, “everytime you mentioned yunjin i got upset and it’s because i thought you guys were dating. that’s why i didn’t like any of the girls you brought home either. i’m sorry for saying you’re like my sister. i like you a lot. not in a straight girl way.”

she hears you gasp and she can’t bring herself to continue without your reaction. yizhuo’s been through so much struggle with coming to terms with her identity and feelings and now she wants to get it all out.

“are you serious?” you ask without facing her. she chuckles at the redness at the tips of your ears.

“yeah. sorry for being a jerk. it was because i like you.”

“ning yizhuo— i… wait, let go of me for a minute. i wanna look at you.”

reluctantly, she does so.

you look so pretty under the kitchen light, yizhuo thinks.

“uhm, where do i even start?” you chuckle awkwardly, “i really thought you were into me when we first met and when you said you were straight… i think my heart died a little! but it’s okay, since you’ve been such a great friend to me. i must admit that yunjin did volunteer to be my plot device to make you jealous. i was hurt when you were being rude, so i’m happy you apologised. i like you too. a lot.”

yizhuo grins, heart beating wildly against her chest.

“can you say that again?”

“i like you a lot, yizhuo. can’t believe you called me a sister though.”

“i said i was sorry!”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 7 hours ago.

LAST UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hello! i’m glad to announce that this situation has finally been settled with a happy ending. i would like to give you guys a proper explanation and ending for all the help you provided.

first of all, yes, i’m not straight. or maybe i just like A. i haven’t explored that part yet but also, i’m in love with my roommate. i was jealous of all the girls she brought over and i wanted to be the one holding her and making her laugh.

second of all, you guys were right. she was using Y to make me jealous and it worked. so maybe she’s the real mastermind.

and lastly, we’re finally dating. we’ve been taking things slow for now since this is all new to me but A has been incredibly sweet and supportive (as she always is). it’s just a new experience but i’m willing to do anything as long as A is by my side.

thank you all for the help and comments!

it turns out i don’t have any problems with A kissing girls if it’s me she’s kissing.

⇧ 359 | ⇩ | 153 comments

[woso-dreamzzz]

Guppy's Halloween

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: The eighth of my Halloween-centric fics

"Don't," Leah warns," Kyra, don't you dare."

"I didn't say anything," Kyra snickers.

"You were going to."

"I mean..." Kyra grins. "Should we stop calling you Lord Farquaad, Mophead?"

Leah knew something like this would happen this morning. Hell, she'd known something like this would happen when Lia came to her with this idea.

Usually, she'd refuse but you'd been there too, looking up at her with wide, eager eyes.

She'd be heartless if she didn't say yes, which brings her to this moment with Kyra.

Leah is dressed as a mop, embarrassed beyond all belief but still holding strong.

"Oi," She snaps," Just because you're going mainstream with your costume! I mean, a vampire Kyra? Really?"

"Hey! Vampires are a classic1"

"Vampires are boring," Leah deadpans," You're just jealous Guppy didn't want to partner with you for a costume."

"So she got you too, huh?"

Leah turns, eyes wide.

Kyra howls with laughter, nearly going to ground as she wheezes, pointing between Leah and the newly arrived Codi.

"Really on theme," Leah notes," Did Guppy choose that out too?"

"I think so. Lia sent me the link though."

Codi stands in the middle of the gym and Leah isn't quite sure which one of them is wearing the most embarrassing costume.

Leah and her mop costume or Codi and her wet floor sign costume.

By this point, Kyra has actually fallen on the floor, clutching at her stomach as she nearly cries from laughter.

It only gets worse when Mariona comes in...dressed as a broom. Not like a witch with a broomstick. Just a generic broom that anyone would find scattered around the house.

The three of them look down at Kyra, who's on the floor roaring with laughter and wonder briefly if she's ever going to be able to get back up again.

Kyra manages to quieten her giggles for barely a moment before Lia, dressed as a bottle of kitchen cleaner, comes in and suddenly Kyra just can't manage it.

She's back on the floor again and, unlike everyone else, Lia doesn't seem to be embarrassed at all.

Then again, Lia's got experience in this after you and her dressed up last year as tea towels.

"Kyra," Lia says, looking down at her not exactly in judgement but with that mum look that everyone recognises," Stop laughing. Guppy's coming in a moment and you're not going to make her feel bad by laughing."

Kyra sobers up quickly.

The last time she'd upset you was when she'd messed up all your organised equipment boxes. She'd never seen you cry so hard, stressed beyond all belief and she'd had to avoid Lia for the whole rest of the day because of how angry she'd been.

"You will be nice," Lia says," And happy. And you will tell Guppy that you think her costume is so cool and you're so jealous, got it?"

Kyra swallows thickly. "Got it."

Lia smiles. "Good. Guppy, everyone's ready! You can come in now!"

Leah's used to your style of costumes. She's only seen you wear something 'normal' once and that was when you were still a baby and didn't have your own opinions.

Lia had dressed you up as a little werewolf but that was the only time.

All the others had been something so quintessentially you that Leah wonders how you can even have new ideas.

But then you come in and Leah's reminded that yes, of course you can have new ideas.

"I'm Henry Hoover!" You announce," Mummy helped make my costume!"

"Oh, wow, Guppy!" Leah says instantly," You look great!"

You grin, turning around so everyone can get a good look.

"We took the nose tube from our old Henry Hoover," You explain to Codi and Mariona," Our old one broke but we didn't throw it away because we can still use bits of it! Like for my costume. Do you like it?"

"It looks so good," Codi nods," You look so cool."

"Mario?"

Mariona grins, dotting kisses all over your face as you giggle. "You and Lia did a great job."

"Your costumes look good too!" You say, still laughing as Mariona's kisses tickle your face.

The assembled girls fawn and coo over you until you feel all happy and floaty, moving away to finally to look at Kyra with a face full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Kyra," You say," Did the store not have any other costumes?"

Kyra looks down at her vampire costume complete with a fancy Dracula cape. "Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"

You make a face, like you're trying not to be rude. "It's just...It's a bit boring, isn't it?"

Leah's face lights up. "I told you!"

[helioooss]

fade into you

synopsis: you meet hollywood star, jennie kim, on a sleepless night…the first of many…you both bring comfort to each other.

w/c: 8k+

warnings: slow fckn burn, it’s too long. y/n is lonely, jennie’s lonely…and you’re both just yearning for each other.

a/n: ive been working on this for ages and obviously got carried away with how long it is

Los Angeles is never quiet. At night, the city hums with a different kind of energy; neon lights, angry car horns and the low murmur of people who don’t want the day to end. From your apartment’s rooftop, the party below sounds like a distant wave, layers of brick and glass muffling all the noise.

You’re usually never present at these things, but tonight, your neighbour, Irene - a nepo baby producer, invited you to one of her parties after bumping into her earlier.

It’s funny, really. You live in the city of stars, but it never felt like your world — you don’t belong to a galaxy of velvet ropes, red carpets and flashing cameras. And so, you decided to step out of the room, immediately wandering to your spot.

Your fingers graze the edge of the cold metal railing as you take a deep breath, hoping the fresh air might clear the maze of thoughts running through your head. Insomnia has a way of weaving itself into your bones, and tonight is no exception. The weight of your sleepless nights presses on your eyelids, but you know sleep won’t come.

It never does when you need it.

Just as you fish a pack of cigarettes out of your pocket, beginning to settle into the quietness, the soft click of a door opening behind you startles you out of your zone.

Someone steps out onto the rooftop, their presence breaking the stillness. You don’t look right away, assuming it’s another party guest taking a break from the noise below. But then, you feel it; the odd sense of familiarity.

A voice follows, soft and hesitant. “Mind if I join you?”

You turn towards her, and there she stands in all her glory: Jennie Kim, Hollywood’s darling. Even with only the shadows of the moonlight illuminating the place, there’s no mistaking her - sleek black dress and all.

You recognise her immediately, but you don’t react the way most people would. There’s no gasp of surprise, no wide-eyed admiration.

“Go ahead,” you motion towards the empty space beside you, putting the cigarettes back into your pocket. “All yours.”

Jennie looks momentarily taken aback by your nonchalance, but she moves closer, leaning against the railing a few feet away. For a moment, neither of you speaks. It’s not awkward, just quiet.

It’s the kind of silence that you both seek.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to be up here,” she says after a while, her eyes scanning the city below.

“Neither did I,” you reply. You glance at her, studying the way her fingers fidget slightly with the hem of her jacket. For all the fame, all the attention she must be used to, Jennie seems surprisingly normal. “I’m usually up here alone.”

She’s still gazing out at the city when she speaks again. “I needed to get away for a bit. The noise gets too overwhelming.”

You hum, understanding what she means. “I know the feeling, everyone down there is just too caught up in their worlds. And it’s not mine, sadly.”

Jennie tilts her head slightly, as if your words resonate with her. The laughter below rings louder for a moment before it dies down again, leaving the two of you in a strange bubble of calm.

For a few more moments, neither of you speak a word - entangled in the comfortable silence that breaks with the occasional gust of wind and traffic.

“I’m Jennie, by the way,” she says out of a sudden, her voice a whisper; almost uncertain.

You smile at her. “I know.”

Jennie’s lips mirror yours, the first one you’ve seen since the party started. “Heard good things about me, I hope?”

This earns her a chuckle from you as you shake your head. “Hmm, I’ll keep that mystery to myself.”

There’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes at your response, studying you for a moment longer, as if trying to figure out why you’re not treating her the same way everyone else does - but she seems to appreciate it, because when she speaks again, her voice is lighter, less guarded.

“Do you live here?” she asks, brows furrowed and all, her curiosity breaking through her reserved demeanor. “I saw you at Irene’s party earlier.”

“Yeah, a few floors down,” you answer, glancing back at the building behind you. “Don’t know why Irene invited me and why I showed up, honestly, I knew it wasn’t going to be my crowd.”

“Of course Irene did,” she laughs. “I’m glad you came, though. Who else would be on this dodgy rooftop with me?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you grin, ignoring the latter comment. “I come up here when I need to clear my head, it’s a great spot.”

Jennie hums in agreement. “I don’t get to be alone much. There’s always someone around, always wanting something from me.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. Her world is one you’ve only ever seen from an outside perspective, but the way she says it, there’s a weariness in her voice that feels too familiar.

You’ve felt it too, for different reasons.

“I guess it’s hard to find quiet when you’re…well, you,” you say carefully, not wanting to pry too much. “You’re a star.”

Jennie lets out a quiet laugh, though there’s no real humour in it. “Yeah, it’s hard to find anything real sometimes.”

Her words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, you see the person behind the fame.

Jennie Kim, the Hollywood star, is just Jennie right now, someone who’s tired, someone who’s trying to escape, just like you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That night is the first of many.

The rooftop becomes your shared sanctuary, a place where both of you can escape the noise of the world below. You don’t plan these encounters, they just happen.

Sometimes you come up, expecting to be alone, and find Jennie already there, sitting quietly on one of the lounge chairs. Other times, she arrives after you, silently joining you by the railing.

The conversations are never forced. They start slowly, like the flicker of a match that eventually catches fire. Jennie talks about her life, the constant pressure of living up to expectations, how exhausting it is to always be in the public eye.

You’re surprised by how candid she is, how she doesn’t shy away from talking about the things that bother her the most.

“I love acting,” she says one night, her voice raw in the darkness. “But sometimes I feel like I’m losing myself in it. Like I’m becoming this version of myself that’s not really me.”

You listen quietly, nodding as you try to understand what that must feel like. “I get it. I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to be famous, but I know what it’s like to feel disconnected from yourself.”

Jennie looks at you then, her coffee-coloured eyes searching yours. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Like no matter what you do, it’s never enough?”

The question catches you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer. “All the time. I’m a writer, and every day I feel like I’m failing at it. Like everything I write is just mediocre and no one wants to read it.”

She nods, her gaze softening. “I read it.”

Your heart nearly drops, blood rushing to your cheeks. “You do?”

“I adore your writing, and believe me, others do too.”

There’s comfort in her words, a weight that presses down on both of you as you sit there in the quiet of the night. You never expected to have this kind of connection with someone like Jennie Kim, but here you are, two people who feel lost in different ways.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A few days had passed since that unexpected rooftop meeting with Jennie, and you’ve been trying your best not to think about it too much - brushing it off as a surreal, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

You let out a sigh as you press open on the elevator, a coffee and a book on the other hand. You’re hoping to spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on work, but the doors reveal Irene in her designer boots and oversized sunglasses.

She flashes you a wide grin, her energy filling the small space instantly. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite writer. Went Houdini at my party again, did you?”

You chuckle, rubbing your nape. “Yeah, sorry about that. All the stars in the room hurt my eyes, you know?”

She waves her hand dismissively, her signature rings glittering. “No dramas, you didn’t miss much. Drunk producers trying to convince everyone they’re geniuses and some rookie actor crying in the corner because he didn’t get the role he wanted.”

You snort, taking a sip of your coffee. “Sounds like quite the event.”

“I know, just boring new Hollywood stuff,” she responds, leaning against the wall. “Jennie was there too, though, surprisingly.”

You blink in surprise, caught off guard by the mention of her. “Jennie?”

The elevator doors open and closes again when none of you move, too indulged in the conversation now.

“Yeah, Jennie Kim. You know, international superstar, face of like a hundred different brands, has a smile that could end wars; that Jennie,” Irene teases, raising an eyebrow. “I heard you two met on the rooftop the other night.”

“Hmm, we did,” you reply slowly, not sure where Irene is going with this. “It was kind of by accident.”

“Uh-huh,” she’s smiling at you, like she knows something you don’t. “Funny thing about that, she was asking about you the next day.”

You have a surprised look written on your face. “She was?”

She lets out a dramatic sigh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as if this was the juiciest gossip she’d ever shared in her life. “You know, casual stuff. Like, ‘do you know Y/N well?’ and ‘what’s Y/N like?’ It was actually adorable.”

You stare at her, completely thrown off balance. “Why though?”

“I’m just saying, you must have made quite the impression. People don’t usually catch Jennie’s interest like that. It’s hard to break through the whole ‘world-famous celebrity’ thing she’s got going on, you feel?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to downplay it as you ignore the flutter all over your chest. “I don’t know. We just talked for a bit, that’s all.”

Irene rolls her eyes in disbelief. “Oh sure, just a bit.”

Your face goes warm at the thought, and you quickly shake your head. “No, no. It’s not —“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” she interrupts, holding her hands up as if she’d heard the excuse a thousand times. “But come on, Y/N, Jennie doesn’t ask about people she’s not interested in.“

You groan at that, not sure how to respond.

Her grin softens into something more genuine as she presses the elevator open. “Listen, you don’t have to close yourself to every person who knocks at your door. This whole time I’ve been this building, I’ve been in elevator rides with girls who were bawling their eyes out and I just know they came from your apartment.”

“How would you even know that?” you ask, defensive tone in your voice.

“They wear the same sad look on their face.” The doors slide open, and she steps out, leaving you to process everything she had said. “Oh, and Y/N?” she calls out after you, sticking her fingers out just before the doors can close.

“Yeah?”

“Try not to overthink it,” she adds with a playful smirk. “Jennie is interested in you. The rooftop meetings might turn into something more elevated if you know what I mean.”

You whine at her joke, and she bursts out laughing, the sound echoing in the hallway as the elevator doors slide shut, leaving you wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jennie is different at night. Softer, more vulnerable than the poised and confident image you occasionally catch glimpses of on magazine covers or the news. Out here, with only the night sky and the cold breeze as witnesses, Jennie is just Jennie. And you, well, you aren’t a nameless, sleepless writer either.

You’re someone she seeks out, the only person she can talk to without having to put a mask on.

One night, you’re both sitting on the lounge chairs near the edge of the roof, the distant glow of the city illuminating the sky like a sea of fading stars.

The conversation has been low after not seeing each other for over a week, the both of you just drowning in your own thoughts. However, the only difference is that the silence between you is comfortable now; a result of the odd friendship you’d built over the weeks.

“Do you ever feel like you’re just…floating?” she finally breaks the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turn your head slightly to face her, trying to understand what she means. Her skin is glowing under the moonlight, hair loose and tousled as it fell into gentle waves over her shoulder. “Floating?”

You think she’s beautiful.

“It’s like,” she pauses, searching for the right words. “Like you’re living, but not really living. Just…existing for the sake of it. Going through the same routine because that’s what’s expected of you.”

You don’t need to think long before answering. “Sometimes, I do. I think that’s what happens when you stop feeling connected to the things that you love.”

She shifts slightly in her seat, her expression thoughtful. “I used to love my job. Like I could become someone else and leave everything behind for a while. But now, now it feels like I’m just acting all the time. I barely know who I am.”

She’s opening up more tonight, more than she ever has. There’s something about the way she talks that makes you want to listen harder, to dig beneath the surface and understand what’s really troubling her.

“You feel like you’re stuck playing a role,” you suggest gently, watching her as she nods slowly.

“Exactly. Even when I’m not on set, I’m still Jennie Kim, the celebrity. Sometimes, I don’t want to be her. Sometimes, I just want to be…me. Whoever that is.”

You know what she means. In your own way, you’ve felt the same; lost in a sea of expectations, trying to live up to an image of yourself that you’re not even sure is real anymore.

“I think a lot of people feel that way,” you say gently. “Like they’re wearing a mask for the world, and it’s too hard to take it off.”

She lets out a quiet sigh, leaning her head back against the chair. “It gets exhausting, you know? Having to pretend all the time.“

There’s a tinge of sadness in her voice that makes your heart ache. You’ve always seen Jennie as the kind of person who has it all — fame, fortune, adoration from millions of people. But hearing her talk like this, you realise even those things can’t shield someone from the loneliness that comes with them.

“Why don’t you?”

She smiles, but it’s a tired smile. “I wish I could. Perhaps, one day.”

“Perhaps.”

The weight of her words settles over the two of you like a blanket, heavy and suffocating. You wish you could say something to make it better, but you know there’s no easy answer to what Jennie’s going through. She’s trapped in a world that demands everything from her, and there’s no simple way out.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say after a long silence, the words feeling inadequate.

She shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. “It’s not your fault.”

You sit together for a while longer, the night air cool against your skin. For the first time in a long while, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence with words.

Her presence is enough, and you hope, in some small way, that yours is enough for her too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s a rare afternoon off for you, and you find yourself being dragged by Irene to a cozy outdoor café with Rosé, another pop star you had met through Irene sometime ago. The three of you settle into a comfortable rhythm over lunch, laughing and talking over plates of food that Irene ordered for the table, always with a flair of overconsumption.

“Okay, but seriously, who designed those shoes for that premiere?” Irene says, her voice full of exaggerated exasperation. She’s waving a fork in the air as she continues. “I mean, did they hate me? I almost broke an ankle just walking down the red carpet.”

Rosé chuckles, sipping her champagne, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re lucky it didn’t turn into a meme,” she teases.

Irene gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in horror. “I could not imagine becoming a meme.”

You laugh at her, shaking your head as you poke your salad. “Oh no, what would happen?”

Rosé smiles at you, leaning in slightly. “So, Y/N, how’s work been? Have you finished that chapter you were talking about last time?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. “Still working on it. Just haven’t been sleeping lately.”

Irene smirks. “Oh, I bet I know why.”

Already knowing what was coming, you raise an eyebrow. “Irene, don’t even —“

“Jennie Kim,” she announces, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And, might I add, she’s been asking about you again.”

Rosé’s eyes widens slightly, a curious smile playing on her lips as she glances between you and the producer. “Wait, Jennie? As in Jennie Jennie?”

You huff, sinking lower into your chair. “Yes, that Jennie. And no, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

Rosé tilts her head, clearly intrigued. “What’s there to think about? Jennie doesn’t usually talk about people unless they’re special.”

You shoot a glare at Irene, who’s beaming like she’d just uncovered the juiciest gossip in town. “Yeah, thanks for that. Jennie and I are just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Irene says, clearly enjoying herself as she spears a piece of steak with her fork. “Friends that like hang out almost every night.”

Rosé giggles, leaning in closer. “Okay, now I have to know. Spill the details. What’s going on with you and her?”

You heave out a sigh, knowing there is no way you are getting out of this. “We met on the rooftop a while back during one of Irene’s parties. Since then, we’ve just been meeting up there. Talking, you know…late night conversations when her and I can’t sleep.”

“And she’s been asking about you,” Irene adds with a pointed look. “A lot.”

“Irene!”

Rosé laughs, covering her mouth. “Honestly, I’ve noticed Jennie’s been in a better mood lately. Like, even during backstage events, she seems lighter. Happier. I wonder if that has anything to do with you.”

You’re taken aback by Rosé’s observation. Jennie did seem happier lately, more relaxed, even when the weight of fame pressed down on her. But you never considered that your late night talks might have had anything to do with it.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, feeling a bit flustered. “We’re just talking. That’s all.”

Irene and Rosé exchanged amused glances, clearly not buying your attempts at downplaying it.

“Whatever you say,” Irene responds, smirking. “But I think it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Jennie likes you. And, if you ask me, you should stop overthinking and just go for it.”

Rosé nods in agreement, her smile warm and inviting. “She’s a good person, Y/N. If she’s happier because of you, that says something.”

“She’s not going to hurt you,” Irene interjects with a lighter tone. “Please don’t hurt her too - she’s a lonely soul, that one. You both are, so I’m glad you found each other.”

You shift in your seat, feeling the weight of their words. Part of you wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you had a bigger impact on Jennie than you realised.

But another part of you is still scared of what could happen if you got too close, if you let yourself fall for her. After all, love hadn’t been kind to you; so you closed your door on it.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, giving them a small smile. You roll your eyes as Irene and Rosé clinked their glasses; perhaps they were right. Maybe it’s time to stop overthinking and start letting things happen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The nights blur together in a series of quiet conversations and shared solitude. You find yourself growing more comfortable around Jennie, and she around you. The walls between you have come down, and though you don’t say it aloud, you’ve both come to rely on these nights together.

It’s strange. You’ve never had a friendship like this, one that exists solely in the darkness, in the quiet of the night, away from the prying eyes of the world. By day, you’re still the same sleepless writer, struggling to meet deadlines, battling the constant feeling that you’re not good enough. But at night, up here with her, you feel a little more at peace. Even if sleep still eludes you, there’s just something comforting about your moments together.

One particularly clear night, she asks a question that catches you off guard.

“Why do you stay up here so late? Don’t you ever sleep?”

You laugh. “I wish. I don’t really sleep much these days. I don’t wanna rely on my tablets so much.”

Jennie frowns, a shade of concern in her eyes. “Insomnia?”

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “It’s been getting worse lately. I’ll lie in bed for hours, but my mind just won’t shut off. It’s like there’s too much going on in my head, and no matter what I do, I can’t get it to quiet down.”

Jennie watches you for a moment, her expression gentler. “That sounds awful.”

“It is,” you say, your gaze drifting back to the skyline. “It’s been making everything harder. I can’t focus during the day, and my writing’s been…so terrible, honestly. I’m barely functional most mornings.”

The words spill out before you can stop them, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much, but she doesn’t judge you.

She just listens.

“I wish I could help.”

“You already do,” you reply, surprised by your own honesty. “These nights…talking with you, it helps. I don’t feel so alone.”

Jennie grins, and for the first time, it feels genuine, unburdened by the weight she usually carries. “I’m glad.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Time passes and the nights stretch on, and something between you begins to shift as you look back on your conversation with Irene and Rosé.

It’s subtle at first; small moments, fleeting glances, a brush of your hands as you pass each other by the railing. You don’t talk about it, but it’s there, lingering in the air between you like a secret neither of you is quite ready to admit.

One night, you find yourself standing closer to Jennie than usual, your arms almost touching as you both lean on the railing, looking out at the city below. The moon is particularly bright tonight, casting a soft glow over the rooftop, and the stars seem to be watching you, waiting.

You hadn’t seen her in weeks, and she greets you with boxes of pizza and a bottle of wine in her hand, telling you how much she hates fashion week.

“Have you ever wondered…” her tone is careful, almost hesitant as she pauses. “Have you ever wondered if we were meant to meet? Like, maybe we were supposed to find each other up here.”

You glance at her to find her looking at the city in front of you, studying the way her features soften in the moonlight, her dark eyes reflecting the glow of the city. There’s something vulnerable about her in this moment, something that makes your heart ache in a way you’re not ready to face.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “But I’m glad we did.”

“I missed you,” she admits. “Did you miss me?”

“I did, it feels lonely without you here now.”

Her gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The noise of the city fades into the background, and all you can hear is the steady beat of your own heart. There’s something electric in the air, something that pulls you closer to her, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in.

Your lips meet hers in a soft, hesitant kiss, and for a brief moment, everything falls away. The doubts, the fears, the sleepless nights; it all fades, leaving only the warmth of Jennie’s touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.

But then reality crashes back in, and you pull away, your heart racing. “I can’t,” you whisper, stepping back. “I’m sorry, Jennie. I just…I can’t.”

She looks at you, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. She nods slowly, her voice barely audible. “It’s okay. I get it.”

You want to say more, to explain why can’t let it happen, but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you turn and leave the rooftop, the weight of what just happened pressing down on you like a heavy blanket.

After that night, everything changes.

Jennie stops coming to the rooftop, and though you try to tell yourself it’s for the best, a part of you misses her. You miss the quiet conversations, the way she made you feel understood in a way no one else ever has, but you know you can’t let yourself get attached.

You can’t risk hurting her, or yourself. The walls you built took years to stabilise, you can’t let someone else in again.

Days turn into weeks, and you start seeing Jennie everywhere, but only from a distance. You catch glimpses of her in magazine articles, on TV interviews, on red carpets. She’s back in the spotlight, drowning herself in her work, and you watch from the sidelines as she slips further and further away.

You tell yourself it’s better this way, but the truth is, it hurts. You’ve grown to care for Jennie in a way you didn’t expect, and now that she’s gone, the rooftop feels emptier than ever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’re sitting at your desk one afternoon, trying to concentrate on writing but finding it nearly impossible. The words on the screen blur together as your mind drifts back to her — like it always seems to do lately. The nights without her have been long and restless, and no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, you can’t stop thinking about her.

And it certainly doesn’t help that you’ve been avoiding Irene and everyone that could possibly be in Jennie’s circle.

“Hey, are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?” Lisa’s voice pulls you back to reality. You nod, turning towards her.

Lisa, your best friend and old roommate, has been talking for the past ten minutes about some new reality show she’s obsessed with. She’s sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, glancing back at your laptop. “Something about hot contestants and drama, right?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, eyes narrowing. “Sure, that’s exactly it.”

“What’s up with that look?”

“You’ve been so weird lately, zoning out and acting mysterious. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you say a little too quickly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Work, deadlines, you know how it is.”

“Hmm,” Lisa hums, clearly not convinced. She stretches her arms and yawns before tossing her phone onto the couch and standing up. “Well, whatever it is, you need a break. You’ve been glued to that laptop for hours. I’m making coffee. Want some?”

You nod absentmindedly, barely listening as Lisa walks into the kitchen. You can hear your phone vibrating from your bedroom, but you don’t check it immediately. You assume it’s just another email from other editors or some work-related notification.

Instead, you scroll through your half-finished article, sighing at the lack of progress.

“Hey, do you mind if I grab your phone charger?” Lisa asks from the kitchen.

“Yeah, go ahead. It’s on the table by my bed,” you reply, not thinking twice.

She disappears into your room, and you return to your article. For a few blissful minutes, you actually manage to focus, typing out a few coherent sentences before her voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

“Oh my GOD.”

You flinch, nearly knocking over your water bottle in the process. Her voice has jumped several octaves, and it’s followed by a burst of nervous laughter. “What?!” you yell out, spinning around in your chair.

She comes charging back into the living room, your phone in her hand, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Uh, excuse me. Who’s texting you? Because I just saw a whole bunch of messages from someone named Jennie—” she holds up your phone “With a VERY familiar profile picture.”

You freeze, realizing immediately what your best friend has stumbled upon.

“Lisa —“

“Oh no, no, no,” she interjects, waving your phone around like it’s court case evidence. “Do not even try to tell me that Jennie is just some random friend. I recognise that face anywhere! Jennie Kim is messaging you?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Lisa, please, calm down. It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think? I’m sorry to invade your privacy but you invaded mine for four years,” her eyes are practically bulging out of her head now, and she’s shrieking. She opens the messages, scrolling through them with increasing disbelief. “She’s asking how you are. She’s sending cute little ‘I miss you’ texts. I miss you? This is Jennie Kim! And you’re not responding?!”

You can’t help but chuckle at Lisa’s reaction, but your stomach twists with anxiety. “It’s complicated.”

“This is a Hollywood star sending you heart emojis, there’s nothing complicated about this except the fact that you haven’t told me!”

Before you can respond, the Thai woman glances at your phone again, her eyes widening as she scrolls even further. “Oh, hold up. Is this —” her hand flies to her mouth dramatically. “Is this a picture of you and Jennie?“

You visibly cringe. That was a picture Jennie had taken during one of your rooftop nights. It wasn’t anything too intimate, just the two of you sitting side by side, the city lights spread out behind you. Jennie had sent it to you as a reminder of the night, and at the time, it felt special, something just for you both to remember.

“How are you so calm right now? Do you realize what this means? You’ve been hanging out with Jennie Kim, and you never told me?” Lisa’s voice rises again as she shakes her head in disbelief.

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Look, it’s not exactly something I could just bring up over dinner, okay? ‘Hey, by the way, I’ve been spending nights on the rooftop with one of the most famous celebrities in the world. How’s your day?’”

She stares at you for a moment, her mouth still open, before she bursts out laughing. “Honestly, yeah, that would have been exactly the way to bring it up!”

You can’t help but laugh with her, though the tension in your chest doesn’t completely disappear. She flops onto the couch, still holding your phone, her eyes wide with amazement as she stares at the messages again.

“So, let me get this straight,” she says slowly. “You and Jennie Kim, Hollywood superstar, what? Friends? Dating? In some weird rooftop-based relationship that I clearly need all the details about?”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of the situation press down on you. “I don’t know. We spent nights talking, and yeah, we got close. But then things got complicated, and I -“ you stop yourself, the memories of pulling away from Jennie still fresh in your mind. “I don’t know what we are. I think I fumbled her.”

Lisa purses her lips, clearly sensing the conflict in your voice. “So, let me get this straight. She’s sending you these sweet, thoughtful texts, you two have clearly shared something important, and your reaction is to not respond?”

You wince. “It’s not that simple.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It’s complicated,” you repeat, your voice quieting.

She sits up, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, fine. I get it. It’s complicated. But,” she leans in, her voice turning more serious, “do you care about her?”

You hesitate, the answer lodged somewhere deep inside you, tangled up with fear and uncertainty. “Yeah,” you finally say. “I really do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Lisa says, her tone both exasperated and gentle. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. If you care about her, let her know.“

You sit in silence for a moment, processing her words because she’s somehow right.

Jennie has been reaching out to you, and you’ve been too scared to respond. Too scared of getting hurt, of what it might mean if you let yourself care this much.

Lisa, seeing the wheels turning in your head, grins and tosses your phone back to you. “I’m just saying, if you don’t respond to those messages, I will. And trust me, you don’t want me getting involved.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, I definitely don’t.”

“Okay, now, coffee and reply to her,” she demands as she heads back to the kitchen, you look down at your phone. Jennie’s messages are still there, waiting for a reply.

You open the chat, your fingers hovering over the screen, but you decide against it and put your phone back into your pocket.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Months have passed since you’d last seen Jennie on the rooftop. The silence between you is like a dull ache, made worse by the guilt you’ve been carrying for leaving her hanging without explanation. Even though she had reached out, sending you texts in the weeks following that night, you never replied.

And now, she stopped messaging altogether.

At first, you convinced yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that someone like Jennie didn’t need the confusion and the mess that came with you. She was too bright, too big for your small world.

It was better this way, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself, until you saw the photos.

One night, you’re scrolling through social media, trying to keep your mind occupied. That’s when you saw it: Jennie with Kai. Hands intertwined, walking together like the perfect Hollywood couple.

The caption under the photo read: Hollywood’s newest power couple: Jennie Kim and Kai spotted together again.

Your heart sinks as you stare at the image. There is something about seeing her with someone else, someone who fit into her world so seamlessly, that makes your breath catch in your throat. The rational part of you knew this was inevitable. You’d pushed her away, and she moved on. She has every right to.

That doesn’t stop it from hurting.

For the next few days, you read more headlines about Jennie and Kai. Every time you opened your phone, there was a new photo, a new article speculating about their relationship. The more you saw, the more the hurt settled deep into your chest. You couldn’t bear it anymore.

So, you made a decision.

When the ache became too much, you, went straight to Jennie’s contact, and deleted it. Then you went further: blocking her number, unfollowing her on every social media platform and erasing every trace of her from your life.

It feels like the only way to move on.

Days pass, and even though Jennie’s name no longer appears in your phone, the ghost of her lingers. You throw yourself into work everyday, trying to bury the feelings under deadlines and distractions. Lisa, who had been pestering you about texting Jennie back, eventually gave up, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation when you refused to talk about it anymore.

“You’re going to regret this,” Lisa warns before leaving your apartment one night, shaking her head. “You can’t just block someone out of your life like that.”

But you did. And now you’re left with the quiet, empty space that Jennie used to fill.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s not until a few days later, when Irene and Rosé show up unannounced at your apartment, that you realise things are far from over.

You’re typing away at your desk, again trying (and failing) to focus on the article you should have finished five hours ago, when there’s a loud knock at your door. Before you can even get up to answer, the door swings open, and in walks Irene and Rosé, looking far too determined and scary for your liking.

“Uh, hey?” you greet awkwardly, completely thrown off by their sudden arrival. “Is there a reason you two are barging into my apartment?”

Irene doesn’t waste any time. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe, giving you a knowing look. “We need to talk.”

Rosé steps forward, her expression much softer but equally serious. “Yeah, we’ve been worried about you.”

You frown. “Worried about me? I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Irene is sarcastic, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing great, which is why you’ve completely ghosted Jennie and blocked her on everything.”

Your stomach drops, but you try to play it off. “How do you even -“

“We’re her friends, Y/N,” Rosé cuts you off gently, sitting down on the edge of your couch. “We know. And we’ve noticed that she hasn’t been the same since -“

“Since you decided to disappear on her,” Irene finishes bluntly, cutting straight to the point. “I mean, come on. Jennie literally never shuts up about you. She hasn’t been herself, even with Kai in the picture.”

At the mention of Kai, you feel your chest tighten, the hurt bubbling back up. “I saw the photos. Jennie and Kai…they look happy. I figured she moved on. It’s for the best.”

Irene heaves out a dramatic groan, throwing her head back. “Oh my God, Y/N, that’s exactly what’s wrong. She’s not happy with Kai. It’s all for PR. She’s been miserable ever since you stopped talking to her.”

You blink, stunned by her words. “What?”

Rosé sighs this time, her eyes full of sympathy. “She’s been going through the motions, but it’s obvious she’s hurting. We can see it, even if no one else can. Jennie’s been quieter, more closed off. And trust me, it’s not because of Kai.”

“She’s still hung up on you,” Irene adds, her tone softening just a little. “She might be out there with Kai for appearances, but she’s not happy, Y/N, she seems worst than before.”

You feel the weight of their words press down on you. You didn’t think about how much your silence had hurt Jennie. You’d convinced yourself that stepping back was the right thing to do, that she was better off without you in her life.

“I just,” you trail off, running a hand through your hair. “I thought she’d moved on. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Well, congrats, you’re officially not in the way,” Irene laughs dryly. “And now she’s miserable, and you’re miserable. Great job, everyone!”

Rosé shoots her a look before turning back to you. “Y/N, you need to talk to her. She’s not okay, and I don’t think you are either.”

Looking down at your hands, your mind starts racing. You had blocked Jennie, thinking it was the only way to protect yourself and her from more hurt. But now, being cornered by Irene and Rosé, you figure that all you had done was push her away without giving either of you a chance to figure out what this really was.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper, the guilt settling deep in your chest.

Irene sighs deeply, sitting down beside Rosé on the couch. “Look, you don’t need some grand speech. Just be honest. Talk to her.”

Rosé nods in agreement. “Yeah. She misses you, Y/N. And I think you miss her too.”

You feel a lump form in your throat as their words start to sink in. They’re right - you do miss Jennie. More than you have been willing to admit. Taking a deep breath, you nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Good luck, Y/N. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The rooftop has always been your sanctuary, the one place where you can feel the world slowing down, but ever since you distanced yourself from Jennie, you couldn’t bring yourself to come back.

Tonight, something is different. There is an undeniable pull guiding you back to the place that had once brought you peace. After Irene and Rosé cornered you in your apartment, you’d been thinking about Jennie more than ever. Maybe, after all this time, it was finally time to confront your feelings and reach out to her.

As you step out onto the rooftop, the familiar chill of the night air brushes against your skin. You let out a deep breath, expecting to find the space empty like it had been for the last few weeks. But instead, you’re frozen in your tracks.

Jennie is already there.

Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, staring out at the city lights, her silhouette framed by the silver glow of the moon. For a moment, you stand there, unsure if you should stay or leave, but then Jennie turns, her eyes locking onto yours.

There is a flicker of emotions on her face; hurt, confusion and maybe even relief.

“You’re here,” she begins softly, her voice carrying through the quiet night.

You swallow hard, taking a hesitant step forward. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

She stands up slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. There is a heaviness in her expression, one you recognise all too well. “Why did you block me?” she asks, her voice strained with emotion. “Why are you pushing me out of your life, Y/N?”

The words hit you harder than you expect. You’d prepared yourself for this moment, but now that it’s here, she’s here, the guilt weighs on your chest like stones.

You take another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Jennie —”

“I thought we had something,” she stops you, her voice rising ever so slightly. “I thought we shared the same feelings. But then you just…disappeared. Did I make you feel sick?”

You can hear the hurt in her voice, and it cuts through you like a knife. You look down, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jennie. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just, I didn’t know what to do.”

She shakes her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You could have talked to me. You could have told me what you were feeling instead of just shutting me out.”

There’s a long silence as you stand there, feeling the weight of everything you had kept bottled up inside for so long. You know you owe her an explanation; an honest one this time.

“I thought you were better off without me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw you with Kai, and he fits into your world. He’s everything you need. He understands the pressure you’re under, and he can handle it. I don’t belong in your world, Jennie.”

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “Kai? Y/N, Kai was just…he was never anything serious. He doesn’t make me feel the way you do. It was my job.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the pain of the past few weeks bubbling up inside you. “But he fits. He’s a part of that life, your life. I don’t. I don’t know how to navigate your world. I’m scared of falling for you because I’ve been hurt before. Really badly. And I don’t think I can handle it if I get hurt again.”

Her expression softens, the hurt in her eyes replaced by something else, something warmer.

She took a step closer, her voice gentle but firm. “You think you’re not good enough for me? Y/N, you’re the only person I’ve ever felt like I could be myself around. The only person who makes me feel like I don’t have to be Jennie Kim. With you, I can just be Jennie.”

The vulnerability in her voice, the raw emotion, it’s all there laid out in front of you.

“I pushed you away because I didn’t feel like I deserved you,” you confess, your voice trembling. “After my last relationship, I’ve had this constant anxiety. My insomnia, everything, it’s all because I’ve been scared to let anyone in. I didn’t want to fall in love again, not after the heartbreak I went through. And with you…it feels so much bigger, so much scarier.”

She steps even closer, her eyes searching yours. “I understand,” she whispers. “I’ve been scared too. But I’m not scared of you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops at her confession. The world around you falls away as her words hangs in the air, weightless but powerful. “You’re in love with me?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving yours. “Yes. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but you shut me out. I genuinely believe that I was made for you, Y/N.”

The tears you’ve been holding back finally break free, and before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you, pulling Jennie into a tight embrace. She wraps her arms around you, holding you just as tightly, and in that moment, all the fear and anxiety you’ve been carrying melt away.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble into her shoulder, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll look after you.”

Her words soothe the ache that has been sitting in your heart for so long; creating a home for itself. You lean in, pressing your forehead against hers, wrapped in each other’s arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you feel a sense of peace. The weight you have been carrying on your shoulders begins to lift, and you know, finally, that it’s okay to let yourself fall.

“I love you too,” your voice is shaky but certain. “I’m in love with you, Jennie.”

She smiles through her tears, her eyes bright with joy. She cups your face in her hands and leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

When you pull away, she rests her head against your chest, her arms still wrapped around you. The night air is cool, but the warmth of her body against yours is keeping you grounded.

“I’m here,” she says once more, her voice barely audible. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

[papercorgiworld]

I think it was love at first sight

Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Draco and Enzo

You overhear the guys say they’ve been in love with you since the day they met you.

Warning? 10% foul language. 90% fluff. 100% cringe? Maybe. But let's just accept the cringe and live a happy life.

Based on this ask. I hope it’s okay? Happy readings!

Feedback is always welcome!

You were new at Hogwarts and your nerves were wrecking you, but you were lucky to have met Pansy on one of her good days. “Let me introduce you to some of my friends.”

There is no such thing as love at first sight. He repeated the thought again and again, because your smile, your voice, your eyes, the small details of your skin, your figure and the lovely way you introduced yourself… it was messing with his head.

***

You had planned to stay in your dorm for the evening so you could study, but your brain just wouldn’t have it. Finally giving up you decide to head up to the astronomy tower to clear your head. You hear whispers and quietly move up the stairs curious to find out who it is, but before you reach the top you hear your name and stop in your tracks.

Mattheo

“I hate (y/n)! She is so annoying. Constantly asking for attention.” You immediately recognise Mattheo’s loud voice and your heart gets squeezed tight at his angry words. “She’s the quietest girl in our year.” Theo’s calm voice relaxes you. “She’s infuriating!” Theodore chuckles. “I know being reasonable isn’t in your genes, but you’re seriously overreacting, Matt.” Mattheo groans, but seems to calm down a bit. “She’s constantly in mind, it drives me mad.” There’s a silence as Theodore takes a drag from his cigarette. “It’s not her fault, you’re falling for her.” Mattheo takes a few steps back as a defense mechanism. “I’m not falling for her.” Theo stares at Mattheo and Mattheo clenches his jaw, until he can no longer keep it in. “Fuck! I’m in love with her.” Theodore can not hide his amusement as Mattheo curses himself.

“No, seriously Theo, it’s not funny. It’s disgusting. I’ve caught myself thinking about how many children we should have. I’m turning into freaking Enzo, all sweet and giddy.” You bite your lip and feel yourself heat up as Mattheo mentions having children with you. “No worries, you’re not turning into Enzo, you still curse too much.” Mattheo sits down clearly not knowing what to do with himself. “You really have it bad for her?” Mattheo nods and chews on his lip. “Ever since Pansy introduced her to us at the beginning of the year, she’s just- she became my whole world.” It is then that Theodore spots you and an apologetic look forms on your face as you realize you've been caught eavesdropping. Mattheo doesn’t notice the silent interaction between you and Theo as he stares down. “I hate it, because I know I don’t stand a chance with her.” When Theodore doesn’t say anything Mattheo looks up at him. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”

Theodore’s eyes jump from Mattheo to you and back. “Why don’t you ask her yourself.” Theodore says as he signals to the stairs. Your flustered figure appears and Mattheo quickly scrambles to his feet as his heart starts racing at the thought that you might have heard something, leave alone everything. “How-how long have you..?” He leaves you with only half a question and you’re surprised to see this insecure side of Mattheo, but now it’s time for you to fess up. "Quite some time.” Mattheo’s eyes fill with panic and he turns to Theo. “Just throw me off of the astronomy tower, I beg you.” Theodore laughs. “I’ll do you one better, I’m going to leave you two alone.”

With Theodore gone you’re both forced to look at eachother. Mattheo’s hands hide in the pockets of his pants as he nonchalantly makes his way over to you. “So, assuming you’ve heard my whole uhm- rant or confession. Let’s just skip to the last bit, do I have a chance?” He stops only inches from you and adores your blushed cheeks. You rest your hand on his arm and slowly move into him to place a most innocent kiss on his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since Pansy introduced me to you.” In an instant Mattheo is back to being his confident grinning self. He closes the last bit of distance and his hands find their way to your hips. “Also, two children.” You quip and Mattheo smiles, leaning in for an intense kiss. “I was thinking, four.” You laugh at his ambition. “Up for debate."

Theodore

“(Y/n), she thinks she’s some wise ass, but I’ve seen her look at my notes during class.” Enzo just nods, slightly annoyed he had to listen to Theodore complain about you again. You hold your breath as you carefully listen. “And she studies a ridiculous amount to get the same grades as me, so obviously she’s not that smart.” Enzo hums pretending to agree, but he can’t resist a snarky comment. “Too bad Slughorn disagrees with you.” Theo’s eyes roll to Enzo. Who’s side is he on? “Well, she’s dating that Fred guy, so she’s clearly dumb.” Enzo sighs. “They’re just friends.” “Really?” Theodore asks with obvious interest in his voice. Enzo nods. “Good. She’s too pretty and intelligent for a Weasley.” Theodore snares and watches the cigarette between his fingers. “You know the other day some weirdo Gryffindor tried to-“ Enzo sighs. “Ask her out? Yes, you told me. Do you know how often you talk about her?”

Theo frowns as he looks at Enzo’s bored expression. “I know.” Theodore admits and sighs. “It’s just ever since we met her at the beginning of the year, she's been on my mind all the time.” Lorenzo stares at Theodore's defeated face. He was the last guy to talk like this, so Enzo knew it was serious. “She is really beautiful, so it isn’t that much of a surprise.” Theo leans his head back. “It’s not just that. It’s like I want her around all the time as much of a wise ass she can be sometimes. When she isn’t around everything’s just empty.” Enzo stares at Theo and when he notices he immediately shakes his head. “No. It’s not what you think.” Lorenzo can’t help but laugh. “It so is!” “No.” Theo tries to protest. “You are so head over heels for (y/n).” Enzo can no longer hide his amusement and a soft laugh rings through the astronomy tower. “Yes, maybe.” Theo reluctantly admits. “Kinda, have been wanting to ask her out. I even have this whole romantic thing planned out.” Enzo’s happy grin gets on Theodore’s nerves, but he can’t help it. “This is so embarrassing. Enzo, promise me you won’t tell anyone that I’ve been in love with (y/n) since the day I met her.”

Hearing Theo say those words have you gasp and you quickly cover your mouth with your hand. Worried that they might have heard you, you take a step back, but the stairs end up making a lot more noise and you curse yourself. “Someone there?” You hear Enzo call as he comes into view at the top of the stairs. You smile sheepishly. “Who-“ Theo falls silent as pure horror fills his eyes when he sees your blushing face. “Look at the time. I’ve got places to be, bye.” Enzo jumps past you, hurrying down the stairs, but not before giving you a cheeky wink.

When Enzo’s gone you look back at the top of the stairs to see that Theodore has disappeared. You walk up to see him look at the stars as he lights a new cigarette. “Soo, how much did you hear?” He asks as he breathes out. “Enough, but I’m mostly interested in that romantic date you had planned out.” Theo looks you over from head to toe, wary of whether you were messing around or being serious. He gets rid of the cigarette and walks towards you. He loves how your curious eyes follow him and Theo brushes a strand of hair out of your face, carefulling tucking it behind your ear. “I know this small café that’s also a bookstore and there’s cats.” You gasp in excitement, already loving the idea. “But first you have to survive dinner with me.” You purse your lips as you pretend to think it over. “I’ll give it a try, for the cats and the books obviously.” You reach for Theo’s hands and squeeze them as he gets a little annoyed with your playfulness.

“Why must you be such a wise ass?” You smile at him with adoring eyes. “Can’t help it.” You gently push yourself up on your toes to kiss him. The little agitation that was boiling inside of Theo immediately ebbs away as he feels your warmth. It doesn’t take long for Theo’s fire and hunger for you to take over. His hand finds the back of your head keeping you in place as he deepens the kiss sending shivers down your spine.

Blaise

“You think (y/n) and that Weasley guy are a thing?” Blaise asks, pulling Mattheo from his book. Blaise crouches down next to Mattheo who was sitting against a pillar. “Don’t think so.” Mattheo shrugs, but watches Blaise stare in front of him in deep thought. “Why? You interested in her?” Mattheo questions as he wiggles his eyebrows. Blaise looks at Mattheo’s grinning face and throws his head to the side a bit, wondering if he could confide in his friend. “Promise me you won’t laugh.” Blaise’s seriousness has Mattheo close his book. “Sure.” “Ever since we met her on the train that day…” Mattheo silently waits, not blinking, but it takes Blaise a while to find the words and courage. “Damn it, I’m so in love with her.” Blaise is surprised and somewhat relieved that he could finally admit it to himself. “I said don’t laugh.” Mattheo throws his hands up in the air. “I’m not laughing. I’m smiling. I think you two look cute together.”

Blaise rolls his eyes but can’t help, but wonder. Really? “Most of the time I feel like we’re opposites, and yet at the same time I think she’s the greatest person alive. She brings a little sunshine every day. But she’s also weird.” Blaise looks at Mattheo for an opinion. “Dude, all girls are weird.” Blaise nods in agreement. “Yeah, but she's, like, crazy weird.” Mattheo’s typical filthy grin appears. “But she’s hot, though.” Blaise shakes his head. “No, she’s not just hot, she’s beautiful.” This time Mattheo can’t help himself and laughs. “You are sooo in loooove with her.” He sings and Blaise gives him a little shove.

Blaise gets up, embarrassed with himself now that Mattheo is teasing him, and heads for the stairs. As soon as you notice he’s coming your way you try to turn around as quickly as possible, but it’s no use. “(Y/n)?” With a guilty face you turn around. “I wasn’t listening.” Mattheo jumps up and joins Blaise, he can barely keep it together as his eyes sparkle with humor. “She totally heard everything. I’m leaving.” You chew on your lip as you look at your feet, while Mattheo passes you.

Blaise runs his hand over his face trying to calm himself down and you smile softly, feeling guilty. It really was wrong of you to listen in on their conversation. “I did hear everything.” You admit as you walk towards him. “Do you think I’m some weird obsessed guy now?” You laugh and shake your head. “No, apparently I’m the crazy weird one.” Blaise gives you an apologetic smile. “I said that, but I also said you were beautiful.” You lay your hand on his shoulder. “I also heard you say you’ve been in love with me since the day we met.” The slytherin in front of you slowly nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “Which is crazy a coincidence, since that happens to be the same day as I fell for you.” Blaise is surprised to hear that, but quickly closes the last bit of space between you two and rests a hand on the small of your back. “That’s a bizarre coincidence.” You hum in response as you both lean towards one another. The kiss starts slowly, but quickly turns fiery.

“I never believed in love at first sight, until you.” Blaise mutters as he rests his head against yours. “That’s really skeptical coming from someone who attends a magical school.” He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet and loving kiss.

Draco

Draco sits and stares at a shiny green apple, dwelling in deep thoughts about you and him. “Do you think (y/n) is interesting?” Blaise turns against the railing of the astronomy tower and frowns at Draco’s odd question. “You’ve been staring at that apple for too long.” Draco rolls his eyes, not pleased that his friend isn’t taking his question seriously. “I feel like (y/n) is fresh air to me and that’s been bothering me since the day we met.” This time Blaise takes Draco seriously. “What exactly are you saying?” Draco looks away from his apple. “She makes everything better and I always need more of her, her attention, her opinions, her stories, her soft caring attitude. It’s never too much. Before I met her I’ve never been this curious about someone, never wanted to be around someone so bad.”

Your heart swells at Draco’s sweet words, but of course Draco had to say something stupid. “Which is weird, because she’s not that interesting.” Blaise’s eyebrows knit together for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You are definitely interested in her, that’s for sure.” Draco scoffs. “No, it’s not like that… is it? Shit, you think? I’m so in love with that… idiot.” Blaise laughs. “Idiot? Just a minute ago she was fresh air?” Draco just glares at Blaise who tries his best to hide his smile.

“You should tell her.” Blaise suggests. “Tell her what exactly? Oh hey (y/n), fun fact, I’ve been crushing on you since day one, please love me.” You smile at what an utter idiot Draco is and decide to immediately shut him up by walking up to him. Blaise is the first to spot you and his eyes go crazy wide. “That indeed is a fun fact.” You say, making Draco spin around to see if he recognised your voice right. Blaise takes Draco’s apple from his perplexed figure and heads for the stairs. “See you guys tomorrow.” He says casually and you smile at him, but Draco doesn’t move.

“You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.” Draco manages to say after a few seconds of silence and you roll your eyes. You take a few steps towards him and start playing with his tie. “You’re an idiot, Draco.” He nods and admires how your fingers play with his tie. “I’m an idiot, but please love me.” Draco breathes out and you meet his eyes, surprised by his sudden courage even if it took the form of a desperate plea. His hands gently move over your arms until he wraps his hands around yours, squeezing them softly. “I’ve already been loving you since day one.” You confess and a surprised smirk tugs on Draco lips. “Seriously?” You nod and move into him. He’s still a little shocked and it takes him a second to kiss back, but the passion makes up for the wait.

Enzo

“You know, I was thinking about (y/n). And I was wondering- Do you believe in love at first sight?” Draco stares at Enzo, wondering where the hell the others are. Realizing that there was no else to answer Lorenzo’s question, Draco rolls his eyes and thinks about it for a second. “You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t even know if I believe in love.” Enzo frowns. “That’s just depressing.” Draco huffs. “But what does that have to do with (y/n)?” Draco’s question gets Enzo a bit flustered and he tries to play it cool, just lifting his shoulders. “Nothing.” Draco raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “You’ve got to be the worst liar at Hogwarts.” Enzo acts like he doesn’t know what Draco’s talking about.

“Come on, spill it, Berkshire.” Draco snaps, but Lorenzo is used to his attitude and ignores it, happy to talk about his worries. “Look, do you think (y/n) would freak out if I told her I had been obsessing about her since Pansy first introduced us.” Draco thinks for a moment. “What do you mean by ‘obsessing’?” You take a step closer so you’re sure to hear what Lorenzo has to say next. He takes a deep breath. “You know, nothing out of the ordinary. Just… I was thinking of a spring wedding, some small town by the beach kinda honeymoon, a classical house with a big garden for the creatures and five kids, you know that kinda stuff.” Draco honestly doesn’t know what to say. “Do you think she’ll run in the other direction if she hears this?” Draco nods. “Enzo, you’ve officially lost it. She’ll definitely run in the other direction.” Disappointment washes away Lorenzo's excited smile.

“No. She won’t.” You say softly as you make yourself known. Lorenzo’s eyes go wide as he sees you. “I think it’s sweet and I do believe in love at first sight.” You continue as you walk towards a blushing Enzo. “You two are disturbingly perfect for one another.” Draco jokes and Lorenzo glares, making Draco raise his hands in defense. “You give the absolute worst advice ever. Now get out of here.” While muttering some complaints Draco leaves you two alone and you can’t help but laugh. “You ask Draco for love advice?” With a sheepish expression Enzo raises his shoulder. “I was desperate. I was so worried you would freak out, but I also couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. (Y/n), ever since-“ You don’t let him finish and just kiss him like you’ve wanted to do since you met him.

Lorenzo doesn’t waste any time wrapping his arms around you and deepening the kiss. “I’m so freaking in love with you Enzo Berkshire.” He lifts you off the floor as he again locks his lips with yours. “I think we’re simping for each other.” You laugh and nod in agreement. “Definitely.”

[zaldritzosrose]

I Could Be Your King (Aegon x Wife!Reader)

Request from @bridgertonbee1814, hope you like it!

Summary: Your marriage to Aegon came long before war, but it was war that threatened to tear you apart. You were the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin. Just that was enough those who claimed to support Aegon to make him question his own wife's loyalty. As did you, torn between your mother and husband. Your own feelings would make the decision for you.

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, reader is has the canon Strong features but is only described once, Aegon being a devoted husband, mentions of death, p in v sex, profanity, Aegon needing love and affection.

Words: 3525

You'd die for what I'd kill to give away. They're holding me, but I don't want to stay…

The crown was a heavy weight on Aegon’s head. You could see it every time he would enter your chambers of an evening. Preferring the warmth of your rooms over his own – once belonging to the late King Viserys. Another thing he wished not to inherit. To be King, to now sleep in his father’s chambers. He bore the weight of not only his father, your grandsire, but also the weight of the war that had broken out the moment he had the Conqueror’s Crown atop his brow.

If it wasn’t for you, he would have run. Anywhere, as far away as he could. Anywhere would have been better than how he felt now. His one beacon was you. His one constant. 

But he was afraid he would lose you.

Bury me, steadily, cold blue lips. Reaching still, holding on for one last wish…

You heard the door open, but you didn’t look up. You recognised the footsteps as your husband. But you could not bear to look anywhere but the parchment in your hand.

Lucerys was dead.

Lost to the waters around Storm’s End, torn from the skies by Aemond and Vhagar. The ink on the parchment smudged with every tear that spilled from your eyes. Your little brother gone, your uncle to blame. Your husband’s brother, to blame. 

You could feel Aegon stood behind you, his hands rested on the back of your chair. Though he said nothing. 

“He’s dead…”

Your words were barely audible. Aegon wasn’t even sure you were talking to him. He already knew, of course, it had been the topic of the council meeting he had come from. And now, looking at your tear-streaked face, he remembered the smug smile on Aemond’s. Even when his brother claimed it to be an accident, that smile remained.

“My darling I-“ 

But Aegon didn’t know what to say. What words could he say that would make you feel better? Or even simply not make you feel worse?

Would you give it all just to have a little? Would you give it all to be in the middle?

The letter was from Dragonstone. It wasn’t from your mother, but you imagined Rhaenyra was distraught. The letter had come from Princess Rhaenys, without her seal so it wouldn’t be intercepted and kept from you. War had barely started but your allegiance was being questioned.

The daughter of Rhaenyra, but the wife of Aegon. If there was any worse place to be, it was torn between two sides of a war.

We're all going down. We all want a crown…

Aegon simply stood behind you in silence. You could feel the tips of his fingers brush against your shoulders. Wanting to touch you, comfort you, but resisting.

“I assume you know? I imagine Aemond is quite proud of himself.”

Your words were harsh, but Aegon didn’t take them to heart. You were in pain, and you were right to be angry. He tried to reach out again, barely brushing the blanket wrapped around your shoulders before you had stood from your seat.

“It was the main concern of today’s council, yes.” Aegon said simply, his voice low and tentative. As though he was standing in front of a wild animal.

You were much like a dragon now, the venom in your words your fire. He could almost see the rage burning behind your eyes.

“Ah, a concern. Is the death of my brother only a mere concern!?”

Aegon stammered. That was not what he had meant, and if you hadn’t been so consumed by your pain you probably would have seen that. His hands remained outstretched, held up now as though he was surrendering.

And they all want me now. But I don't want to drown…

The letter was scrunched in your hand, but the words were branded into your memory. You had accepted such pleas, but not after the death of Lucerys. 

Your mother needs you. Your brothers need you. We all need you.

That is what Rhaenys had written. Pleading to the love you held for the other half of your family. To the mother who had fought hard against your betrothal and marriage to Aegon. Who had all but demanded, through coin pressed to a servant’s hand, that you use your marriage to him to secure the throne for her.

You wanted to scream. At Aegon, at the gods, you knew not who. You simply wished to scream. There would be suspicions about your loyalty, you knew that. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to wish to reply to. Because you were torn, feeling like you were being split down the middle. 

Half your soul tied to your mother, your brothers. The other half, to Aegon.

“That is not what I meant, my love, please…” Aegon took a tentative step forward, gauging your reaction before coming even closer.

He was a hair’s breadth from you, hands still outstretched but his whole body was tense. You didn’t move away, but you didn’t reach out for him either. Aegon could see the letter in your hand. Part of him wanted to read it. He knew there was more than grief over Lucerys in your heart. More than anger toward Aemond.

“Did they question my loyalty? Did they expect me to run back to Dragonstone and join my mother’s cause?”

Aegon’s hands began to lower, one moving up to run through his hair. Of course that would be your first thought, because you were right. After the fury directed towards Aemond, especially from his mother, the next question from the cancel had concerned you.

And Aegon hated to admit it, but for a second, he had thought the same. Would this be what turned you away from him? Would this be the one blade to break the tie between you both?

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king. I could be your...

He wanted to ask you. To demand you affirm your loyalty to him as your husband and King. But he could never do that to you. The idea that he had even questioned you, even in his mind, made him feel sick.

“They did, and I made quite sure any such words were never to be spoken again,” Aegon said gently, seeing the frown on your face ease just a little in response.

To know he had defended you, especially his council, his mother, his brother. Your heart softened just a little at the thought. Aegon moved forward again, holding one hand out to you. You wanted to take it, to feel his skin on yours, but you couldn’t move yourself to do so.

“You are my wife, my queen. Any words against you, are words against me.”

Aegon took a chance, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You didn’t move, but you didn’t push him away. He could feel the dried tears on your cheeks, his thumb wiping the ones that began to fall anew.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king. I could be your king…

His wife. His queen.

Those were your titles, but not the ones you knew we used behind your back. 

Bastard. Daughter of the false queen.

Those were the words muttered behind your back. They were not stupid enough to say them to your face. It used to hurt you. Such insults had been levied against you since you were a child. Though not as often as your brothers. But now, being married to Aegon, they had been easy to forget.

But it seemed even being crowned as his queen did not protect you.

Your past is calling back to you again. You've run so far, and still your scars are there…

“But it will not stop them thinking it, husband.” Your voice was resigned. Though your rage had dissipated, the pain was still there.

Aegon wished he could stop it. To control the words, the thoughts of those around them. This was a crown he did not even want, and now it was causing you pain that you needn’t feel. 

He was fighting a war within his home now and beyond it. And he feared he may win neither.

“Then I will do nothing but defend you, my love.”

But you knew it would never happen that way. No matter what happened, you would always be Rhaenyra’s daughter. The bastard princess.

“You have a war to fight, Aegon. We have a war to fight.”

You had a dragon; you were the queen. You would be expected to fight, even if Aegon would not say the words. But could you fight your mother, your brothers, Daemon, Rhaenys. Even Baela and Rhaena. Could you really bring yourself to take them down if you had to?

You've reached the edge, over your head, but you've gotta fight…

Days passed since the letter. Aegon had done his best to keep you and Aemond away from each other. Knowing the sight of your brother’s killer would only cause you pain. And what kind of husband would allow his wife to hurt?

He had sent Aemond on patrols, utilising the might that was Vhagar as a way to keep Aemond occupied.

As for you, he had spent as many nights as he could at your side. Hoping his presence was enough to calm your mind. To show you that his loyalties lay with you.

The words had never passed between you both. But there was an affection between you. Whether you could call it love, that was not something either had ever crossed your minds.

But more recently, it had been a constant in your thoughts. Was it your love for Aegon that stopped you replying to Rhaenys’ letter? Or was it the fear of choosing your mother over him?

Every time you thought of leaving, your heart felt heavy, and your stomach felt sick. And no reason you could think of seemed to make sense, except for love.

Aegon had returned to your chambers again that night, and he looked more tired and drawn than usual. You were already in your nightclothes, laying on your bed with a book in your hand. He didn’t even ask before stripping himself down to his smallclothes and crawling into the bed at your side, settling immediately back into the pillows behind him.

“How was the council this evening, my darling?” You asked, and Aegon froze momentarily at the endearment you graced him with.

Aegon couldn’t remember a time when you had called him anything but uncle, husband or his name. Though such names often fell from his lips, he had never once asked the same from you.

So, to hear them from you now…

He did his best to ignore the flutter in his chest. Settling back and turning to press his lips to your temple.

“It appears Aemond and Cole are content to undermine me at every turn.”

Aemond’s name hitting your ears made you stiffen and Aegon noticed but said nothing.

“Undermine you?” You set your book down, turning your attention to your husband instead.

Aegon sighed, his head falling back against the headboard. The turmoil on his face broke your heart. You knew he never wanted to be king, he had told you as much. But you could tell he was trying with everything he had.

I can if you let me try. I can if you let me try.

Your whole body turned, your hand resting atop his and playing with the dragon egg ring on his finger. Your face nestled against his neck, gently inhaling the scent of him. A scent you had come to enjoy. You would smell it on the pillow…no his pillow…when he would wake before you in the mornings.

Aegon let a smile tug at his lips at your closeness, at the gentleness of your touch. Even when his day felt like the worst of his life, you always seemed to be the balm to his worries.

“They have been meeting in secret, it seems, to plan this war without my knowledge.” 

Your hand tightened on his. Anger simmered in your stomach at the audacity. Was there no one but you who supported Aegon and believed he was capable of ruling without interference?

That was the first time you had been so absolute in your thoughts. That Aegon was a good king. That he could be a good king if he were allowed to be. 

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

You sat up, surprising Aegon it seemed as you straddled his thighs.

“Those fools underestimate you, Aegon.”

Aegon’s hands went instinctively to your waist. Your relationship was not without physical pleasure. If there was one thing Aegon knew he could do, it was please you in that regard. There was never, and would never if he could help it, be a shortage of intimacy between you both.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

 “None of them listen to me. Not my council, not Otto, not even my mother anymore.”

Your hands cupped his face, your fingers rubbing gently circles on his temples as he tugged your body closer. It had been a growing problem from the moment Aegon had called his first council. You had, in the beginning, assured him that those men would come around and see him as someone capable of great things.

And at the time, you had simply said words you knew would calm him, soothe his worries.

Now? You meant every single one. You truly believed Aegon could be a king to be remembered. He already had the favour of the smallfolk; he simply needed the trust of those within his walls.

“Then we make them see, we find a way to show them what kind of king you are.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Aegon was quick to return it, his arm snaking around your waist and pressing you tighter into his chest. His other hand tangling into your hair, weaving your silken brown locks between his fingers.

“We? How will my queen help me?”

Your heart raced. It was like something had switched inside you. With Aegon’s lips on your skin, his hands gripping and pressing you to his chest, and the need that simmered in your core, it was like you were tumbling further and further into something unknown.

“Remove those you cannot trust, punish the ones who defy you.”

Was it selfish on your part? Yes, Aemond had received little consequence for his actions, but you had never once asked Aegon for such things. That was his brother, and though you were his wife, you knew what it was like to be torn between two sides.

But now that Aemond, and Cole, had embarrassed Aegon so, you knew he would want to do something.

Aegon kissed you harder. The arm around your waist loosening as he bunched your nightgown up around your hips. Your words had ignited something within him. He realised he had been blind to his most steadfast supporter.

You, his niece, his wife, his queen. Even when you were torn between him and your mother, you had never wavered in your loyalty. Even when it pained you. You had stayed at his side.

The moan that fell from your lips the second his fingers pressed against your pearl was like music to his ears. His rhythm was slow but forceful. Your hips already rolling to meet his hand. 

“Even my brother? I know your feelings on Aemond, my beautiful queen,” Aegon whispered, his lips moving down your neck.

Your head tilted back as he kissed a heated trail down, settling on your breast as his free hand tugged the straps of your nightgown away. His question floated in your mind. He knew you well enough to know your anger towards Aemond would never dissipate.

You could only nod as Aegon’s lips wrapped around your nipple, rolling the bud between his lips as your pleasure overtook your ability to speak.

But Aegon knew you had a point. Aemond did as he did because he thought Aegon was a pushover. Someone he could belittle and embarrass again and again. Your words only reminded him that no one should be safe from a king’s ire.

“Aegon…” you sighed, and any other questions he had were long gone.

He tilted you back gently, urging your legs to part as your back hit the bed below.

“I should bring you to my council, my love, it seems you are the only one I can truly trust.”

Those words hung heavy as Aegon descended on your breasts again, one suckled between his lips as he kneaded the other in his hand. His hips nestled between your thighs, the only barrier being your smallclothes.

“You are my king, my husband, there is nothing that would turn me from you…”

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

You had said it. He was your king. Those were the words he had longed to hear. You had called him king before. When you would tell him he was a good king, when you remind him, he was the king.

But you had never called him your king.

The fire in him threatened to burn him from within. Knowing you backed him, knowing you were entirely loyal to him, it made him desperate to show you that he was just as loyal and bound to you.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

The words had fallen from your mouth before you could stop them. But you didn’t want to stop them. You believed them wholeheartedly. He was your king. Yours. And you would do anything you must to make sure he believed them too.

The sound of fabric tearing had you sat up on your elbows. Your smallclothes in tatters in Aegon’s hands, and a hungry look on his face.

“Say it again.”

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

His hands tugged your legs wider, before leaning back and tugging his own smallclothes from his body. His cock stood proud against his stomach, hot and slick as he kept you splayed out in front of him.

“My king…”

Aegon had never felt so desperate for you. He had desired you, every time he had bedded you, but this…it was like it would pain him to not have you.

His queen. His comfort. His wife.

His lips crashed against yours. He could already feel the slick heat of your cunt against him, you were as needy as he was. As filled with desire as he was. There was little gentleness as he lined himself up with your entrance, pressing inside with a groan that rumbled out of his chest. Aegon was never rough with you, unless you asked it of him. But his body was working separate from his mind now.

“Again.” 

He buried himself deep with one, swift thrust. Your back arching from the bed as he bottomed out. The stretch was enough to have you moaning before he’d even moved.

But when you didn’t answer, he slammed his hips back into you.

“Say it again.”

Your legs hooked around his waist, your nightgown hanging loose off your shoulders as your breasts bounced with ever harsh thrust.

“My king…yes…my king!”

Your hands gripped the sheets as he pounded into you, fuelled by a heady mix of lust and love. Aegon’s hand was quick to tug both of yours above your head. Holding them tight as his pace only quickened.

Your moans were pitching higher and higher as you raced closer and closer to your peak. Aegon groaned into your neck as he felt your walls begin to spasm and clench around him. He wouldn’t last long, he could feel it.

“Oh, my queen…fuck…come for me, gods, come for me..” Aegon panted into your neck, pleasure licking at his spine.

His hand was tight around your wrists, your back arching from the bed as you peaked. Muscles spasming around his cock as his name fell like a prayer, over and over from your lips.

I could be your king. I could be your...I could be your king.

It wasn’t long before Aegon followed, painting your inner walls white with his seed as he peppered kisses of your heated skin. As his pleasure simmered down, something else began to seize at his heart.

“I love you…I love you so much...” 

Your mind remained foggy with pleasure, but you heard those words. Aegon’s hand released your wrists, and you immediately tugged his face to yours, pressing a hungry kiss to his lips. It was a mess of teeth and tongues, but Aegon could feel every ounce of emotion in that one kiss.

And when you pulled away, breathless, you finally uttered the words that had his heart soaring.

“I love you too, my king.”

Aegon taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe

@kaelatargaryen @sihtricsafin @thought--bubble

@towriteloveontheirarms @anjelicawrites @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel

@arcielee @tumblin-theworldaway

(If you want to be added or removed, let me know!)

[straycatj]

トラちゃん：別名文太とも。Ｊさん曰くサイテーキジトラヤロウ

2016年頃から庭に来るようになったＪさんより大きなキジトラ。Ｊさんが家猫化した隙をついてボスになったらしい気の強い猫。天敵。

窓越に挑発してくるため、怒った若かりし頃のＪさんは家を破壊して抜け出し喧嘩をすることもしばしば。特に2017年の４月には職場の歓送迎会から帰ってきた家主に深夜診察に連れて行かれるヘビーな流血騒ぎの原因となった。なおこの時の傷は化膿し危険な状態となったが、とある獣医に念入りに洗浄され事なきを得た。以来Ｊさんはその医師を恩人と認識しており、ゴマのスリ具合が他の先生に対するものと違うとの複数の証言がある。

当時Ｊさんは鈴のついた首輪をしていたが、そのせいで気配がバレ負けるるのではと考えた家主が首輪を外す理由を作った。2020年頃に居なくなったらしい。

Stray Tabby: also called Bunta, Mr.J says that damn stray tabby

He was the bigger brown tabby than Mr.J, coming to the garden since 2016. He was a new boss after Mr.J became a house cat, and his fatal enemy.

He always provoked Mr.J so he often got angry and went out to fight with breaking the house. The heaviest one was the bloodshed of Mr.J that was found by landlady when she came back home from the welcome party of her office the early April 2017, then he was took to the vet alty it was already midnight. And . The wound became infected and dangerous, but was carefully cleaned by a veterinary surgeon. Since then, Mr J has recognised the doctor as his benefactor, and there are several testimonies that the way to suck up is different from the way he does with other doctors.

Furthermore, he made the reason why Mr.J doesn't wear a collar usually, because landlady thought he might be defeated by the sounds of the bell of the collar. He's said there's no sighting information around 2020.

Cf;

[chrisdr3]

"Ignorant" ~ OP81

Fluff

Oscar x Introvert!Reader

Summary: Y/n gets hateful comments about her appearance and for being "ignorant", whilst Oscar tries to understand what's going on with her feelings.

You never really liked to talk much, you always were shy and tended to hide your emotions. You were more on the introverted side, like Oscar. When you were together, Oscar did most of the talking, especially when you were infront of fans, reporters and team members unknown to you.

That's the main reason the hate started. Most of it, at least. Every day, you were recieving hateful messages and comments on your social media. Everywhere you went, several fans that recognised you said things about you. Because of that, you started staying at home and you stopped posting stuff on your social. The worst part is that you distanced yourself slowly from relatives and friends.

At the last few races, you went on McLaren's hospitality from the back, avoiding fans as much as you could and avoided places of the garage that had cameras and media. You took your headset and hid in lonely corners or in Oscar's driver room, where nobody could reach you, and stayed there, sometimes crying and others just sitting and thinking. Feeling hideous and snub.

As the time passed, you started distancing yourself from Oscar slowly, thinking he hated you just like the "fans". He wasn't talking much either, so that's what you thought. You didn't really hug or cuddle him, you ate and showered alone, you spent hours locked up in your office room, reading books, and didn't sleep well at night, staring at the ceiling, trying not to cry. Long story short, you started avoiding him, too.

The fist days, Oscar thought you had to study for uni. Then a week passed and Oscar started to get worried. He wanted to help you, he wanted to talk to you, to find what's going on. He was cooking your favourite meals, bringing them to your door, tried to understand if you had a certain time of going out to shower, but you didn't.

One day, he checked your social media, just in case he found why were you acting like that. He checked them that same afternoon he came up with the idea and scrolled through your accounts, every comment he saw made him even angrier. He then posted something in response.

"I've repeatedly seen hateful actions and comments about Y/n and I want people to know that she's not ignorant or rude, she's an introverted person. So, I'm requesting from everyone to respect her. If there are still people out there, still hating on her through internet or irl, they'll stop being considered "fans" by me and will be reported. Thank you." That's what the post said.

He then waited till you got out to shower and stranded waiting in the doorframe if the closed bathroom door. When you got out, he moved infront of you and pulled you into a warm, bone crushing hug. "Why are you so distant lately, sweetheart?"

Tears escaped from your eyes, and you cried silently in Oscar's arms, staining his shirt with them. He didn't move, he rubbed your back gently. "That's it, let it out princess." You continued crying till you hadn't any more tears to shed, holding the towel around your body tightly, afraid it will fall.

Oscar cupped your face and kissed your forehead. "It's okay baby, I'm here for you." He whispered. "Talk to me, what took you away from me?" You looked at him, your face tear stained, sad. "Promise n-not to get angry?" You mumbled. "Of course, I can't get angry that easily, especially from you." He replied, caressing your hair.

You didn't leave his arms, snuggled in their warmth instead. "D-do you hate me?" You mumbled, looking at your feet. "Why would I hate you baby?" He responded, not getting his arms off you. "Because I'm"ignorant" and "rude" and "snub"." Oscar looked at you and smiled sadly. "It's the comments, huh?" You raised your head, a questioning expression in your face.

"I know about the hate you get. I saw it on your social and you don't know how many times I've heard "fans" talk to me or to other people about you when in races or downtown." He explained, ruffling yor hair. "Oh..."

"I'm here for you baby, I know you are shy and stuff but I believe in you. You can ignore them and you have the words to confront them." He smiled. "Can you try that? For me?" "I'll try..." You whispered. "Thanks, sweetheart." You kissed his cheek, adjusting your towel. Oscar noticed, he then grabbed your hand and led you to your shared bedroom. "Let's get you dressed, princess."

Taglist: @pinkswaet @dilemmaontwolegs @changetyre @thef1diary @f1driverszona

[klausysworld]

I love your writing it’s so good!! Maybe a story where klaus treats reader really bad as he sees her like nothing more than a pet until one day he hurts her really bad out of anger and feels guilty. You can choose what goes on from there thank you

(Trigger warning for physical and psychological abuse!!)

Petrified

Y/N was a quiet little thing. Kept out of the way and made sure to be seen not heard.

Klaus liked that, he took advantage of that. Y/N was pretty, easy to pull around like a trophy. She was pure when he met her, he could smell her innocence.

It was too easy to corrupt that. Take it away from her and twist until it was so deformed she didn't recognise herself.

He had hurt her before. Bruises staining her soft skin and making her insides ache uncomfortably when he left her empty again. Often her body would suffer for his pleasure, she would never say no to him, didn't really know how.

Besides, in all honesty she fell in love with him without realising it.

For all his roughness and rage, he had moments when he would gentle even if just for a moment.

He would carry her into his bath tub, settle her down into the water when he could see her struggling to move much at all. She would be pet slowly, like a person would an injured animal. That's when she would feel safe, when his hands were gingerly touching her skin, a low hum in mouth which soothed something within her.

"You know that I need you, pet." He would murmur to her, his lips beside her ear as he washed the soap away. "I love you." Klaus would tell her so earnestly that it felt so real.

The bruises he left on her were never out of malice. She knew they were heat of the moment, his version of passion. It was a sign that he had enjoyed himself, enjoyed her. That she had been enough for him.

And when he twirled her around on the dance floor, in the dress he had made for her, she wanted to stay with him forever.

When she would be curled up against his side whilst he sketched her delicate face and rest his head against hers, it felt right.

Something about him always felt right to her. She trusted him even when she knew he wasn’t worthy.

Sometimes he would yell at her, often no anger was actually aimed at her but he would still take out his temper on her. Scream and shout and watch her whimper and flinch.

Usually he would actually feel bad, especially when she would really cry. Her body would have gone into defence and she'd be on the floor, clinging to his legs like a helpless child as she begged him not to hurt her.

Klaus wasn't sure if she'd faced someone's wrath in the past but something told him that she had.

She knew how to make his guilt swirl, how to snap him out of it before he could lay a hand on her.

Truthfully he didn't want to actually hurt her, he was never angry with her. She just happened to be the easiest to take it out on. She loved him and he knew that, he could use that.

He knew he could wrap his arms around her and tell her he didn't mean it and she would snuggle his chest, whimpering like a sad puppy as she tried to tell him it was okay.

He couldn't help but treat her like an actual pet sometimes, she just seemed so much like one.

Klaus enjoyed stroking her hair, her skin. Sometimes he enjoyed feeding her, bringing the fork to her mouth. It was nice to take care of someone and know that they appreciated it, appreciated him. That's the same reason he cleaned her up, he liked that she wanted him to be there.

He loved her in his own broken and selfish way. The feel of her, sound of her, look of her. She was perfect and part of him wished that he had just treated her good from the start, wondered if she'd look at him with a different type of love. Would it be weaker or stronger?

But he wouldn't know, he couldn't. It had gone too far, too deep.

She was his lover, yes, but also his scapegoat.

Sometimes he didn't think much when he took it out on her.

This time was especially bad.

Y/N had been with Klaus for years, before his curse was broken. She had been through heaven and hell with that man as he went through all stages of grief, rage and happiness.

She didn't get upset when he slept with other people, she was his but he wasn't hers and she understood that. Which was why she had her own apartment within the house, her own room, bathroom, mini kitchen and a sofa with a tv. The room blocked out the sound so she wouldn't hear him, he gave her that much.

So even when Hayley wound up pregnant, Y/N stayed beside him. Hands entwined as he lead her inside the compound and up to her new room which was still an en suite with a TV.

"I know there's no separate kitchen, pet, but I can get one installed with some time. I got you a new comforter though and a toy." He smiled, she nodded quietly and accepted the new room and the toy. It wasn't a dirty gift, but a teddy for comfort. Often she had a bear of sorts that would smell of him and give her a strange sense of comfort. After so many years, she depended on him like a real pet,

"Thank you, Nik." She whispered and he smiled, bending down to kiss her lips softly.

"You're going to be such a good girl. I just know you'll be so good with the baby, won't you?" He murmured and she nodded.

Klaus knew she had secretly loved the idea of being a mother, he saw that glimmer when he looked at Hayley's belly.

"I can hold her?" She asked, eyes looking up at him and full of hope.

"You know that I trust you." He told her, and he did. She had never once done anything to betray him.

The same could not be said for his own family. Rebekah especially.

Elijah had made the mistake of putting Y/N in Klaus's way.

He was very clearly ready for a rampage, eyes gold and veins bulging as he stormed back into the compound.

Camille hadn't been able to stop him from chasing Rebekah but he still had to let her go. The fact that she and Marcel had gotten away with something so horrific sent him well over the edge and somehow Elijah though Y/N would fix that.

He had seen Klaus's mood change around his 'pet' but he had never seen the full process. He didn't know she'd have to scream and sob for him to finally realise how terrifying he was being. People had only seen the before and after, not the process.

So nobody knew what was happening when she just couldn't get him to stop throwing things, to stop yelling and screeching at her. Nobody heard the sharp cut off of Y/N's cry when the back of his hand whacked her so hard that her neck snapped to the side.

That was what brought him back.

The thud of her body. The silence.

No begging, no apologies and pleas.

She wasn't dead, he could hear her scratchy breathing from how her neck had broken awkwardly.

Time froze for a second as all of his features softened and he knelt down, his hand touching her arm and she flinched which made her choke on the little air left in her.

"It's okay..." He whispered, hands supporting her poor head as he lifted her. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He uttered, using her name. She almost never heard her name anymore.

A weak sound left her as a sharp little pain tingled through her arm.

"It's okay, it's just a needle." He told her, gently cupping her face and snapping it back into place making her scream. "It's my blood, you're healing." He informed her so she wasn't panicking even more as the banging in her head faded.

She didn't make another noise as he lifted her up, laying her down in her bed and sitting beside her. She was looking right at him but it was like she couldn't communicate at all. He had petrified her.

A quiet whine vibrated in his throat at the sight and realisation.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, his hands trying to soothe her. His touch was light and hesitant, he didn't want to hurt her again.

Over the course of their years together he hadn't ever scared her this bad, or brought her that close to death. For all his faults, he loved her and her death would change him for the worse. He needed her more than he needed the heart in his chest.

Elijah had gotten a little anxious when a few hours went by and there was still no sign of Klaus. So he went to check on how Y/N had handled him.

The door opened silently, not a single creek from the door as he stepped into her room. Nobody but she and Klaus had ever gone inside and he could tell my the strong mix of their scents. His steps were light and cautious as he turned the corner and saw them both in her bed, Klaus's arms wrapped around her and holding onto her like she might disappear.

Y/N looked ready to throw up and pass out.

It was obvious something was wrong.

Klaus hadn't even noticed his brother in the room. His attention was stuck on her, his hands and lips had been gently caressing her neck in an attempt to wash away the hurt he had caused it. Elijah could see her tensing beneath his touch and trying to relax a little after, her hands were clutching a stuffed bear like a frightened child.

Silently, Elijah retreated and closed the door. A sense of guilt bubbled in his stomach as he realised his brother had hurt the girl, or his pet as he called her. He sighed quietly to himself, his hands rubbing down his face as his mind flicked over every moment that brought Niklaus to be the monster that he was now. His head shook and he headed to his own room, Y/N wasn't his business.

She was Klaus's, she would forgive him and she would love him. He would look after her extra well for a few weeks maybe even a month or two before anything else got bad and even then it wouldn't get this bad again. At least, Y/N hoped it wouldn't.

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Context: We had just robbed the NPC’s mansion during a party, stealing an amulet required for our quest, his wife, and his stepdaughter. This was a couple of years ago so my memory is a little hazy.

DM: As you go to leave, you hear a noise behind you and turn to see [NPC] floating down from the bedroom window, his cloak billowing.

NPC: YOU DARE STEAL FROM ME?!?

Other players ooc: Should we attack him?

Druid (Me) ooc: Wait hold on a minute… Yes! I have Charm Person! Nobody attack I’m gonna charm him.

DM: Alright you charm him. What do you want to do now?

Party: Tell him to let us go without a fight!

Me: Alright, uh, [NPC], how about you just… Don’t attack us for stealing from you?

NPC: What? Why would I attack you, my bestie? Hey, why don’t you come in and enjoy the party? There’s plenty of food and drink to go around!

Me: Um, well, we’ve actually gotta head off now, get back home and get some sleep you know?

NPC: Are you sure you don’t want to come in for a quick drink? But if you really have to head off, I look forward to seeing you around. Well, I’d better get back inside then!

Me: Wait one last thing

Party: ???

Me: Your cloak is so cool, why is it always billowing like that when there’s no wind?

NPC: Oh, it’s magic! It always billows no matter what.

Me: Ok, that’s cool. Can I have it?

Party: WAIT DID YOU JUST ASK HIM TO DISROBE?

Me ooc: NO I JUST ASKED HIM TO TAKE OF HIS CLOAK HE’S WEARING OTHER STUFF UNDERNEATH! Wait DM is he wearing other stuff?

DM: Yes, he’s wearing other clothes. He takes of his cloak and gives it to you then walks back inside.

Me: Noice. I quickly run back into the main party room and grab my pigeons from under the table, as well as all the snacks I can carry.

Around a year later, we were sailing a stolen pirate ship across the ocean in the middle of nowhere on our way back to the mainland when we spotted another ship on the horizon. 

DM: As the ship draws nearer, you recognise- wait who was here with the same characters last year? Ok, Druid and Warlock recognise the figure standing at the stern of the ship, his cloak billowing. Also on the ship you see a few other people who were at that party, including the guy with the giant lizard, the man in a dress that Rogue wanted to fuck before they realised he was a hippo, and a few other people.

NPC: HEY GUYS WHAT WHERE’S MY WIFE? (he had sent a great deal of angry letters to us over the year asking for her back. We had left her in a town where she went off to be a strong independent woman with her daughter)

Me: We don’t have her! I sent you a pigeon explaining it!

DM: The boats pull up side to side, and a fight breaks out.

(one fight later)

Me: I approach the npc’s body. Is his cloak still billowing on his corpse?

DM: Yeah I guess.

Me: I pick it up and put it on over the top of my other cloak.