#okay I tweaked it and now I like it more we shall see what tomorrow Milo thinks of it

[milo-is-rambling]

I feel your death under my skin no matter how much I try to bleed it out of me. I see you in your hospital bed. You died suddenly and without reason. They told us symptoms but no cause. Heart attack and Seizures. Respirators and IVs. Hospital bed. Grief rots my organs one by one. I feel it in my stomach as I picture your corpse and lose my lunch. I feel my liver bubbling sick as I spend my days pouring one drink, then another, then another. My lungs ache from the smoking but I can’t stop myself anymore. I lived the nightmare and still don’t feel it. I’m in denial. I’m a sorry excuse for a survivor. I imagine mom hovering over my corpse instead. There was no freak accident, there was no car crash, there was no where to seek revenge. His body failed him when he needed it most. Just as my body will do to me. One day I will die by my own hand, either through suicide or medical emergency. I can feel my body and my mind shutting down, I’m tugging imaginary IVs from my arms and signing myself out of the hospital. I refuse to heal and I can’t tell why. Life is giving me a second chance and I can’t help but plunge the knife into my chest again even if there’s no one else to stitch me back up. I’m just left sobbing and tucking intestines back into place in the dark. I can’t stop seeing you dead every time I close my eyes. I feel the rot deep within me. There is no way to get you back. I see no way to fix myself magically. I must heal to survive but I cannot stomach the process. I still can’t accept that you’re dead and yet it’s all I think about. Will this ever feel real? Will it ever have been real? Have I been rotting alone from the very start? Am I still alone now? Will I get out of here alive? How much longer can I do this?

[crazyfreckledginger]

Jason Todd x Reader - “In The Pale Moonlight”

After a one night stand, Jason doesn’t seem to be able to get his mind off you. Desperate to get you out of his head, he hesitantly agrees to go to Wayne Enterprise with his brothers for work, as a response to scrutiny from the general public. What happens when the person he was trying to erase from his memory pops right back into his life?

Requested by anon and on Wattpad: “Can I request one where reader and one of the boys are dating but they act like they still trying to get each other so they flirt a lot and stuff even if everyone knows they’re together”/ 

“And other one where the reader is feeling herself and singing “Meet me in the pale moonlight” by Lana Del Rey in front of one of batboys and they’re like wow she cute and kiss the readeeeeeer (they’re dating and they’re teenagers)THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU 💕” /

“haha well I have another which was that the reader is harley and Bruce's kid and she meets  batboys but jason since she knew before she left  for the first time since she was away for wayne industries business meetings”

A/N: I hope you guys don’t mind that I tweaked it a little since these requests don’t have alot of depth individually!

“I’m just here for a drink.” the girl smiled politely even though she was extremely uncomfortable. 

“I am too, can I have it with you?”

“Oh for crying out loud leave her alone, don’t be such a creep.” The man at the end of the counter groaned.

“Mind your business.” the creep gritted his teeth.

“Your disgusting aura is polluting my drink so it makes it my business.” (Y/N) watched as he stood up and walked towards the pair. Now that he was closer, the woman could see how attractive he was up close, stunning eyes, sharp jaw, tall and a streak of dyed white hair, “Fuck off will you?” 

“Who do you think you are?” 

“Sorry, I forgot a world, fuck off please.” The stranger shot the man a terrifying glare and without another word, the man studded away, like a dog with its tail between his legs. 

“Thank you mister, but if he laid a hand on me I would have sucker punched him.” 

“Mister huh?” he smirked, sitting beside her. 

“Well what’s your name then?” 

“Jason, pleasure to meet you.” 

****

“This is your place?” she hummed, fingers running through his soft hair as his lips trailed down her neck, pulling her legs around his hips.

“Mmh hmm,” 

“You rich or something?” the woman breathed out as he sucked on her skin. 

“Something like that,” he murmured, pulling away to tease her lips with his. Jason stared deeply into her eyes.

“What are you waiting for, lover boy? You brought me here.” (Y/N)’s arms hung loosely on his shoulders, occasionally touching the back of his head.

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, hooking his hands under her legs and carrying her to his bedroom.

****

Glancing at her side to the soft breathing of the naked man beside her, she shuffled, stretching and yawning. What a night, she tried moving her legs but winced, what a night indeed. 

“Good morning princess,” his morning voice was incredibly attractive as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“Mmh, good morning,” the woman squirmed in his grip as he nipped at her ear teasingly with his teeth, “what time is it?”

“You have someplace to be?” he murmured, hand caressing her naked hip.

“Yeah, I have work.”

“On a Saturday?” 

“Self employed.” 

“Nice!” 

****

A month or so later, Jason was frustratedly sitting in the meeting room, chewing on his lip in boredom as Bruce brought all of them to a meeting at Wayne Enterprise for less scrutiny from the public eye. 

“The person we will be working on for the new design is going to arrive soon so I need you all on your best behaviour.” He glared at all the boys. 

“Yeah yeah, can we just get on with it so I can leave?” The second oldest rolled his eyes. 

“Mr Wayne?” as if on queue, the person knocked on the one-way privacy film that covered every window of the room, the blurred figure waiting patiently on the other side. 

With a last scolding glance to everyone, Bruce strutted over, opening the door and smiling.

“Good morning Mr Wayne.” the woman greeted with a polite smile.

Jason’s eyes widened, and stayed that way even when he made eye contact with the girl. She responded with the same reaction, but quickly regained her composure and greeted the other boys. 

“Oh hey (Y/N),” Dick waved to his roommate, “you look great.” He flirted.

“...Um hey,” she greeted hesitantly, feeling a little uncomfortable with his usual ways in the professional setting.

“Shall we get down to business.” Bruce glared at his eldest son.

****

“You don’t have to act so grumpy.” Jason rolled his eyes as they finally arrived at their hotel in Europe after an excruciatingly long flight. 

“I’m tired, I need sleep.” Not wanting to address the elephant in the room, especially when she was this exhausted, she scurried to the bathroom to slip into comfortable pyjamas and landed right into bed, “I’m having this conversation tomorrow, good night.” 

The next day came quickly and (Y/N) opened her eyes reluctantly, wanting to melt in the comfortable double bed she was in. Discreetly, she peeked at the double bed facing her diagonally. 

The woman frowned, it was empty.

“I’m right here.” the man voiced from behind her as he exited the bathroom.

“Jason!” she screeched, “what the hell! Don’t creep up on people!” 

“Well don’t try to spy on people when they are sleeping!” he threw his damp towel to her.

“Ewwwww!” she grimaced.

“Chill, I was drying my hair with that.” he walked towards his bed, and she only now noticed that he was naked -- with a towel around his waist obviously. Steam was emitting from his skin as it glistened still.

With warm ears, she pulled the covers over her face, eyes peeking out discreetly.

“We’ve seen each other completely naked, I don’t see what the problem is, if you’re going to look, be shameless,” he moved his butt from left to right teasingly, “you can see this regularly if you want,” he chuckled.

With a sigh, she buried herself under the covers. 

“I haven’t changed my mind Jason, I’m sorry, I’m not interested in commitment at the moment.” 

She felt a weight on the bed and hesitantly took a peep out. Jason was laying on her bed, shirtless but with some underwear on.

“At least give me the benefit of the doubt for this trip.” he gave her the puppy eyes. Eying him suspiciously, she sighed.

“Alright, fine, don’t disappoint.”

****

A few months or so later into the relationship with Jason and gotten closer to his younger brothers, (Y/N) slipped on a comfortable T-shirt, watching herself in the mirror as she tidied her hair a bit and examined the hickey on her neck.

Swaying lightly from side to side to the song that was stuck in her head, she hummed softly to herself, setting out her clothes for the day.

“You don't have to give me anything

Just put your sweet kiss kiss on my lips now baby”

Walking back to the mirror, deciding on whether or not jewelry was necessary, the woman continued.

“Think about you almost all the time, all the time and-”

 “I love you so much baby,” he breathed out from the other side of the room. 

“Hmm?” she glanced in the mirror. 

“Keep singing~” 

“No,” she stuck her tongue out playfully, “are you ready?”

“Do we have to go?” Jason whined, marching up to her, slapping her ass and squeezing it before hugging her from behind, nuzzling her hair, his warm skin against her.

“Baby of course we do, we have to hide the fact that we’re together, plus they are fun, we’re all friends here.” she rubbed her butt against his hips and he bit her ear. 

“No teasing,” he whispered in her ear, turning her around and pushing her against the dresser, “or else.” 

“Or else?” the woman chuckled, “but seriously though,” her hands cupped his cheeks as he stared at her lips, “we can’t act like a couple, it’s unprofessional,” 

“Technically I don’t work at the company,” 

“And the person I’m working with is your dad.”

“Adoptive, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Just a coffee, maybe a lunch, and then we can come straight home.” 

“Mmh, okay,” he pouted, holding her tightly as she kissed his lips and pulled away. “You sing beautifully, please do it more for me.” he pouted. She chuckled, shaking her head slightly in embarrassment.

“Put a shirt on and let’s get ready, I don’t want to be late!” (Y/N) ushered, “and the sooner you’re out of here, the less anxious I’ll be that your brother unexpectedly enters his own home and sees you in it.”

When they were ready, at a somewhat reasonable time, they drove there as quickly and responsibly as possible.

“Why is your hand still on my thigh?!” (Y/N) jumped once she realised he had discreetly snaked his hand back on her thigh when he was parking the car on the side of the road, in a surprising proximity. Slapping his hand away and giving him a look, the woman slipped out of the car and walked up the stairs, ringing on the bell.

Jason scurried up beside her, slapping her butt playfully before pushing the door open. 

“Hey guys!” she grinned, not having the time to scold her boyfriend once again as she was greeted with welcoming smiles. 

“How have you been?” Dick teased, having seen her just yesterday.

After playful banter, and not-so-playful for the brothers, over a nice hot drink, a new topic came up.

“How was the party yesterday (Y/N)?” Jason inquired, knowing fully well about it but trying to seem inconspicuous, “I hope no one stole your heart, that’s for me!” … or not.

She paused, giving him an unimpressed look, reluctant to answer “It was great, and no.” 

“No what?” he smirked. Her cheeks burned, she did not like being put on the spot to lie, especially since this was incredibly unnecessary.

“No one did anything.” 

“To who-”

“This is embarrassing, we know you two are a couple,” Damian nearly gagged. 

“Huh?” (Y/N) turned to him, feeling her soul leave her body.

“How do you know?” Jason looked at him.

“It’s been a while.” Dick chuckled.

“We been knew 💅,” Tim rolled his eyes.

“Someone left someone’s underwear in an awkwardly obvious place when I came around… and you slapped her butt before you came in here, everyone saw it.” Dick explained, watching his brother.

“OH MY GOD, JASON!” 

“I didn’t- wait, how do you know that it’s her underwear???”

The eldest’s expression fell and he blushed. 

“I might have um-” 

“He accidentally came in when I was packing my bag to leave for the business meeting in France okay?” the woman spluttered. 

“You did WHAT?”

Comments, votes and feedback improve motivation, writing and publishing, so it is in your best interest to leave some! :)  

Want to be tagged? Let me know in whichever way you are the most comfortable with!

Tagging: @lumifuer​ @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy​ @plethora-of-things @xlatinaaxx​ @lostnliterature @batette​ @schweeeppess​ @gearsinice​ @mizmahlia​ @tina8009 @disa​ @caswinchester2000​ @brooklynalpha​  @jason-todd-squad @vix360​

[jaehyunfirstlove]

let me love you down

You’re a former idol trainee turned fashion designer, called back by the company to dress one of their groups for their next comeback. You assume it’s for one of their girl groups, but you’re surprised to see it’s for one of their boy groups. That’s when you meet him again, the one who’d had a crush on you when you were both trainees, except now, he’s no longer the cute boy with dimples. He’s a man now, and he’s determined to prove it to you.

Pairing: idol!jaehyun x noona!reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: noona kink (reader is a few years older than Jaehyun), nipple play, fingering, sex in front of a mirror, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (m. receiving), dirty talk, swearing

Word count: 3.5k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77​ @mrg-jjh (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: purely self-indulgent haha

You walked the halls of the familiar building, memories of your trainee days coming back to you, both pleasant and not so pleasant. You smiled as you passed the practice rooms, remembering the endless hours of dancing you’d done in them, as well as the hours of sitting around and gossiping with the other trainees. You didn’t miss the grueling regimen, but you did miss the friendships you’d made along the way.

“Y/N!” One of those trainee friends, now turned idol, ran towards you now with arms outstretched.

“Irene!” you squealed, as you both wrapped your arms around each other for a tight hug.

“I heard you were coming today! It’s so nice to see you!” Irene wrapped an arm around your waist, looking you up and down, “and you look fantastic!”

You beamed at her praise, twirling around so she could see your outfit for the day, which you had designed.

“So, is it your group I’m dressing for the comeback?” you asked, thinking it made the most sense, as your style fit their concept the best.

“Nope,” Irene shrugged, “you’re in there.” She pointed towards a meeting room at the end of the hall.

“Oh, okay.” You were confused, but hugged Irene goodbye and promised to keep in touch. When you opened the door to the meeting room you were surprised to see the members of one of the company’s boy groups, along with their managers.

The concept was explained to you and you understood why they had called you in, and you were excited to work on something new, not having designed menswear before. As you listened to the pitch and took notes, you couldn’t help but feel a certain pair of eyes on you much more than the others. You remembered training with most of them, but they had been a whole lot younger back then, and you, being one of the older trainees, didn’t spend too much time around them. Out of curiosity you finally turned to them, studying their faces, until you came to the one who had been giving you looks.

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling, before he turned away shyly. You remembered him for sure, you could never forget those dimples. He had been the one that all the girls said had a crush on you, and teased you mercilessly about it. You smiled at the memory, and at the fact he had grown up well, the pudgy face of early adolescence transformed into the sharp cheekbones and jawline that made him the well-earned visual of his group.

With the meeting over each member came up to you and re-introduced themselves, asking you if you remembered them, talking all at once, bringing up stories and memories, some you remembered, some you didn't. Jaehyun, the one who’d had a crush on you back then, stood back a bit from the other members, just watching you with a shy smile on his face.

“And you remember Jaehyun, don’t you, noona?” Johnny suddenly said, pushing Jaehyun forward so he stood right in front of you. The other members snickered, apparently his little crush was well known amongst them as well.

“Of course,” you said, smiling at him, “it’s nice to see you again, Jaehyun.”

Flustered, he didn’t know whether to bow or shake your hand, so he settled on both, bending slightly towards you with his hand outstretched. You took his hand and shook it, noticing how cold and clammy it was. His ears were also a bright red, and he was aware of it, once you took your hand away he couldn’t help but touch them nervously with his hand.

“It’s nice to see you too, noona,” he said, and you couldn’t help but notice how much deeper his voice had gotten. He really did grow up well, you thought.

“I’m really looking forward to working with all of you,” you addressed them all, wanting to break the awkward atmosphere that had settled. There was a chorus of cheers, the members clearly happy about working with you as well. “I am going to need a couple of you to come by my studio tomorrow to do an initial fitting though.”

As the leader it was Taeyong’s job to assign people, so he looked around at each member. You noticed that Jaehyun looked at him hopefully. “Um, I think Haechan should be available, and…” he looked around again, and Jaehyun actually stepped up to him with his hand raised, “okay, Jaehyun can go too.” He chuckled, giving in.

“Okay thanks, I’ll see you two tomorrow,” you pointed at the two members who would be joining you the next day. Haechan smirked, side-eyeing Jaehyun, who just smiled widely at you.

---

The next day you got a text from Haechan saying that he wasn’t feeling too well so he couldn't make it to the fitting and that he was sorry, and he hoped that just having Jaehyun would be enough. You texted back saying it was fine, and that you hoped he would feel better.

You busied yourself around the studio while you waited, laying out the garments you were anxious for them to try. You had hoped for at least two members to get a better idea of sizing, but you’d have to make do with just one. You found it sweet that Jaehyun had clearly wanted to volunteer, and you were looking forward to catching up with him to see how he liked the idol life. Halfway through your idol training you had decided it wasn’t for you and had quit, deciding instead to go into fashion design. You didn’t regret your decision at all, loving your work, and watching idols perform onstage was enough for you, content that you hadn’t pursued that life. You had great respect for the trainees who’d made it, remembering how difficult it had been for you, and working with them again was definitely a treat.

In the middle of your reminiscence, Jaehyun walked into your studio. You almost didn’t recognize him, thinking he was a model from one of your other projects. He was dressed casually, in a black t-shirt and jeans, barefaced, his black hair tinted with streaks of blue, but he still exuded such a presence that you were taken aback.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” you said, startled slightly as he approached you.

“Noona,” he bowed gracefully, then smiled. There was an air about him that almost made him seem regal, like a prince undercover, and there were no traces of the shyness he’d exhibited the day before.

You couldn’t help but look him up and down, the change in his demeanor putting him in a whole new light. Your business brain observed the broadness of his shoulders, and how shirts and jackets would hang off them perfectly, how his narrow waist would show off the cut of a tailored coat, and how the proportions of his long legs and solidly built torso would make the perfect canvas for any creation you could come up with.

He saw you staring and smiled widely, his dimples getting deeper while his eyes crinkled ever so cutely. You remembered liking his face when he was younger, but the cuteness had morphed into a drop-dead gorgeousness that you couldn’t help but acknowledge. And the way he looked at you now, far from the puppy-dog eyes of youth, it was more intense, but somehow still playful.

“Um, shall we get started?” you cleared your throat, trying to clear your brain of the mixed emotions you were feeling, knowing you had a job to do.

You brought him over to a rack of clothes in front of a full-length mirror, showing him the different ideas you had for the comeback. He nodded now and then, giving you feedback when you asked and offering his own opinions here and there. You found he was very knowledgeable when it came to fashion and fabrics, and he had very firm opinions on what he liked and what he didn’t like. You appreciated that because it made your job so much easier, now you had a pretty good idea of what you wanted to do.

“Wow, that’s great!” you said, when he had finished giving you his detailed opinion on one of the outfits. “Why don’t you try it on, and then we can tweak any parts that you’re not happy with.” You handed him the outfit and pointed him towards a changing room in the back of the studio.

You sat on the sofa waiting for him to come out, and when he did your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’d foregone wearing a shirt underneath the jacket, and had zipped it only halfway, so a good part of his chest was showing. The leather pants were skintight, straining against his muscular thighs, and showing too much of what was between his legs that you had to look away. He came and stood in front of you, so that you were eye level with his crotch.

“What do you think, noona?” he asked nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t currently a walking thirst trap.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, standing up quickly so that his crotch wasn’t in your view, “looks great!” you fiddled with the fabric, adjusting here and there, but you found that doing that made you touch him far too much. Brushes of your hands against his body, and you could feel the firmness even through the fabric. You were also so close to him that you could feel him breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest under your hands. The worst part, however, was that you could smell him, a scent so intoxicating that it made your head spin.

He watched you the entire time, not saying a word, his eyes following your movements. You started to get nervous under his stare, with the intense way he was looking at you, and you fumbled with the zipper of the jacket trying to zip it up further to cover him up and salvage some of your sanity. Close to the top, it got stuck, probably because your hand was shaking and you couldn’t do it smoothly. You tried to unstick it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Here, let me try,” Jaehyun offered, but it was stuck fast and wouldn’t move.

“We’ll have to cut you out of it, it’s just a sample so no big deal,” you said, turning around to get some fabric scissors to cut with. Just then there was a loud tearing sound echoing in the room, and you turned around in shock to see Jaehyun had ripped the jacket open, his chest now fully exposed, nipples perking from the coolness of the air conditioning.

“I got it,” he said cockily, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched your reaction.

Your jaw was probably on the floor, eyes bulging out of your sockets. Your hands reached towards him, whether to cover him up or touch his chest you really couldn’t tell. Your reaction seemed to embolden him though, because he stepped forward towards you, right into your personal space.

“Do you like what you see, noona?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

You were now eye level with his chest, and you had to admit, you really liked what you were seeing.

“I know I had a little crush on you when I was younger,” he continued, his voice as sweet as honey, “but I’m older now,” he leaned even closer to you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “bigger too.”

Everything he was saying and doing was going straight to your core, and your hands flew up and fisted into his torn jacket. He grabbed your hips and spun you around so that you were both facing the mirror.

“Do you like me, noona?” he asked sweetly, pulling your hair to one side so he could have access to your neck. You angled your head to open up more of your neck to him, falling hopelessly under his spell.

“Yes,” you breathed, and he didn’t quite kiss you yet, just his lips hovering over your skin. You could feel goosebumps forming as you watched him in the mirror, teasing you.

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” he said, breath hot against your neck.

“Yes,” you nodded, watching in breathless anticipation as he leaned further in. Just before his lips connected with your skin he locked eyes with you in the mirror and smirked.

Your knees went weak as he sucked harshly on your skin, there were no tentative or tender kisses, just all out sucking, teeth grazing, definitely leaving marks that you’d have to hide. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place, and soon enough you could feel his hard bulge pressing against your ass.

You tried not to moan out loud, but then his hands started to roam, one of them moving up under your shirt, up your stomach, over your bra. He groaned when he felt only the flimsy lace separating his fingers from your perked nipple. He pinched it, and you couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Oh fuck, noona,” he groaned into your shoulder, “I knew you would sound sexy.”

While you were too busy basking in the pleasure of his fingers pinching your nipples, you barely noticed that his other hand had moved down, undoing your jeans and slipping over the matching lace of your panties. You inhaled sharply as he cupped your pussy, gripping it almost possessively.

“Is this okay, noona?” he asked, and you could hear him breathing heavily.

“Yessss,” you breathed out, the word elongating because now he was tearing your shirt off and unhooking your bra, throwing the garments to a corner of the room. Your upper half was now bare to him, and he looked at you in the mirror, eyes hungry with lust.

“Fuck, you’re more beautiful than I ever remembered,” he said, awe in his voice, before he went back to pinching your nipples. He watched you in the mirror as you whimpered, tweaking and pinching and pulling lightly, and the louder you got the harder he did it.

“You like that, don’t you, noona?” His voice sweet like honey again. He pulled the hand out that was cupping your pussy and yanked your jeans and underwear down, so that now you were completely bare to him.

“So fucking sexy,” he groaned, pressing his obvious erection even harder against your ass. He was still fully clothed and you were completely naked, and for some reason that turned you on even more. You were sure you were dripping wet for him and sure enough, when you looked in the mirror you could see your arousal glistening on the insides of your thighs. This observation didn’t escape him either, his hand slipping between your legs, middle finger rubbing the wetness along your slit.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned right into your ear, and you moaned even louder, throwing your head back against his shoulder as his finger made a mess of you.

“Do you like this, noona?” he whispered, slipping two fingers inside you. You arched your back as his fingers penetrated you, a long drawn out moan the only answer you could manage to his question. “Does it feel good?” he asked, thrusting his fingers deeper inside of you. You could only nod vigorously, your limbs turning to jelly as the pleasure coursed through your body. You could feel the knot in the pit of your stomach starting to form, and you started panting as it crept up on you.

“Are you close, noona?” he breathed into your ear, picking up the pace, ramming his fingers so hard into you that you couldn’t help but cry out, clinging onto his arm as the knot in your stomach snapped, and you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

“So fucking hot,” he murmured, pulling his fingers out of you. He gave you a moment of reprieve, letting you rest for a moment against his chest as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You watched his face in the mirror as he rubbed the tip of it against your wet folds, his lips pursed with concentration, his eyes dark and hooded. Once again he looked up and locked eyes with you in the mirror, a sexy smirk forming on his face before he rammed his cock into your pussy from behind.

You almost fell forward from the force of his thrust but he caught you, arms around your middle as he fucked into you. There was no gentleness in his movements, just power and raw strength, and that aroused you so much you thought you would pass out. You held onto his arms for dear life as he pounded ruthlessly into you, your throat already getting hoarse from the needy whines and whimpers that you couldn’t hold back.

“You like it, noona?” he growled into your ear, “You like my cock?”

“Fuck, yes!” you screamed, your eyes glazing over as the pleasure once again spread throughout your body.

“You look so good with my cock buried inside you,” he whispered, “look at how your pretty pussy swallows my cock.” He spread your thighs apart so you could see in the mirror, and you were mesmerized by the way his cock disappeared into your pussy. Suddenly he lifted you up by your thighs like you weighed nothing, and bounced you on his cock, opening up your legs even further for a better view.

“That’s better,” he said, pleased at how much more he could see now.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and you were a mess. Your hair was all over the place, your mascara was smudged, your lipstick smeared. Your jaw was slack and your eyes were glassy, you couldn’t believe how fucked out you looked. It only served to spur Jaehyun on.

“Fuck, you look so hot bouncing on my cock,” he said, voice raspy, gripping your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have an imprint of his fingers there. The way he was manhandling you, the filthy things coming from his mouth, all served to bring you to your second orgasm of the day, clenching hard around him.

“That’s it, noona, come for me, come all over my cock,” he growled, breath coming in short gasps, signalling that he was close, “you’re so fucking sexy when you come.”

You screamed when you came, his thrusts so hard and deep you could swear you felt him in your guts.

“I’m gonna come, noona,” he said through gritted teeth, and at that moment you had the overwhelming urge to taste him.

“In my mouth,” you panted, and he obliged, pulling you off him and setting you down on your feet. You were glad you didn’t have to stand, your legs wobbly as you knelt down in front of him. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his cock was, red and angry and glistening with your juices, and you took it into your mouth hungrily.

“Oh fuck, noona!” he cried out, his hands threading through your hair. He was watching you bob on his cock in the mirror, trying to hold out because you looked so hot doing it.

“That’s it, noona,” he encouraged, “your mouth feels so good,” he threw his head back, concentrating, but he slipped momentarily and rammed his cock down your throat. You gagged for a second, but the feeling actually turned you on, and you tried to take more of him into your mouth as you could.

“Oh shit, noona,” he moaned, “you like that, don’t you?”

You looked up at him and nodded, and the look in his eyes was almost feral. He took a hold of your head then, and started to fuck your throat, once again sparing you no mercy. He was rough on you and you loved it, pulling at your hair just hard enough that the pain mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel the wetness once again pooling between your legs. Your throat constricting around his cock triggered his orgasm, and he groaned loudly as his warm cum spilled down your throat. You took it all, swallowing every drop, and when he pulled out you swiped your tongue along the tip.

“Holy fucking shit, noona,” he swore, his eyes wide with awe as he looked down at you. He tried to keep up his cocky demeanor, but traces of the shyness from the day before were there too, and you couldn’t help but smile. He helped you stand up and gathered you into his arms, smiling somewhat shyly at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes, very much okay.” You answered, although you knew you’d have marks on your neck and imprints on your thighs that you’d have to answer for. Either way it was worth it, as you finally discovered what that boy with the dimples was all about.

[carry-a-world]

Sleepy bunny

Lan WangJi stirs awake as soft feet pad over to their bed and a teary voice sniffs, “Papa?” far too close to his ear.

Wei WuXian sleeps as he always does: his face smushed into Lan WangJi’s chest, a veritable dead-weight over his husband. Lan WangJi sleeps on his back, perfectly content with this.

Between them, Lan WangJi is the light sleeper without question and young as he is, Lan SiZhui knows it. If he needs something he wakes Lan WangJi.

“A-Yuan? What’s wrong?” he drags himself the rest of the way to consciousness—awake because his son needs him.

Dislodging Wei WuXian takes effort, but he untangles himself so he can swing his legs over the edge of the bed. Immediately Lan SiZhui climbs into his lap and buries his face into Lan WangJi’s stomach.

He’s leaking tears so Lan WangJi curls a comforting arm around him and reaches to flip the lamp on with a silent apology to Wei WuXian.

Lan SiZhui is dressed in his bunny pajamas, his favorite stuffed bunny clutched in the hand that’s not holding Lan WangJi’s shirt in a death grip.

“A-Yuan,” he thumbs tears off of rounded cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Lan Zhan?” Wei WuXian mumbles sleepily behind him.

Lan SiZhui sniffs, tipping his whole head into Lan WangJi’s palm. “Bad dream. Want Papa.”

“I am here,” Lan WangJi soothes.

Wei WuXian is more awake now, plopping his chin sleepily on Lan WangJi’s shoulder and leaning into his back. “Is that my little bunny I hear?”

“Daddy,” comes out at nearly a wail.

Lan WangJi maneuvers them properly on the bed, Lan SiZhui cradled against his chest and Wei WuXian plastered against his side.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Wei WuXian peppers kisses all over the top of Lan SiZhui’s head. “Daddy is here too.”

Lan SiZhui scrunches his face up like he’s trying not to cry anymore and can’t quite seem to stop. Lan WangJi pulls the blankets up so that he’s tucked in properly.

“How about you sleep with us,” he suggests, gently tweaking Lan SiZhui’s nose.

Wei WuXian grins, getting comfortable against Lan WangJi’s shoulder. “Would you like that, A-Yuan? Daddy will even sing you to sleep.”

Lan SiZhui nods, rubbing his cheek against the material of Lan WangJi’s pajama shirt. His death grip has loosened and the tears are starting to slow.

Lan WangJi wonders what sort of dream could have upset him so, but asking will probably make it worse.

“Which song would my little bunny like?” Wei WuXian coos, pushing a strand of hair back from Lan SiZhui’s face.

“Bunny song,” Lan SiZhui mumbles, waving his stuffed toy.

“Ah, of course of course,” Wei WuXian nods wisely. “A bunny song for my bunny. Lan Zhan, sing with me?”

“Mn,” Lan WangJi agrees.

Wei WuXian gives him a curved half smile before clearing his throat. “See the bunnies sleeping, till it’s nearly noon.”

“Shall we wake them with a merry tune?” Lan WangJi picks up the next verse, accustomed to this routine.

They trade back and forth for the entirety of the bunny song before transitioning to another one of Lan SiZhui’s favorite songs. He starts to doze somewhere along the way, his stuffed bunny tucked under his chin.

Wei WuXian starts the notes of their song and Lan WangJi falls naturally in with him. He studies his husband in the soft light, appreciating the way it accents the soft features of his face as Wei WuXian lets his eyes drift shut.

The last notes fall into the space between them and Lan WangJi is content.

“He’s out,” Wei WuXian whispers fondly as he leans over to peek at their son.

Creating space for him is a little challenging but they manage to get him tucked in on his own spot of mattress between them without waking him. Lan WangJi leans over to steal a kiss from smiling lips before reaching up to turn the light off.

“Love you, Lan Zhan,” Wei WuXian says into the darkness.

“Love you, Wei Ying,” Lan WangJi answers.

“Odds he wakes right at six?”

“He will wake at six,” Lan WangJi confirms.

Wei WuXian groans quietly. Lan WangJi doesn’t disguise his amusement—it earns him a gentle pinch of admonishment. Wei WuXian has never liked to get up early, but with a toddler sleeping right next to him he won’t have a choice tomorrow.

“I will rise with him.”

“Lan Zhan, I knew there was a reason I married you!”

Lan WangJi likes getting up early with Lan SiZhui, but even if he didn’t, he’d still do it to let his husband sleep a little extra.

“Sleep,” Lan WangJi hums, reaching until he finds Wei WuXian’s hand in the dark. He squeezes it, and gets a squeeze in return.

“Mmmm. Goodnight, Lan Zhan.”

“Goodnight, Wei Ying.”

When Wei WuXian wakes in the morning, it is after ten and the smell of breakfast cooking and a child’s delighted laughter fill the air.

It’s a blessed life that he lives.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Summertime prompts list: 27 or 28 with rami? Please and thank youuu😘

I tried to do both—hope it turned out okay! “Late night talks around a bonfire—confessions (27) —serious musings (28).”

* * * * *

The sun was just setting and for a moment, you looked out at the ocean and let yourself get lost in her expanse, the sound of her surf, and the way the hues of the sky were melding with the hues of her water to become one palette of midnight-blues.

“Earth to Y/N!” your friend said, tugging on your ponytail.

“What? Sorry—I was just thinking.”

“Surprise, surprise. I wanted to know if you were ready for Moscato?”

“Ooo yes! I wanna see if the bottle I bought is any good.”

“The apple?”

“Yeah—how’d you—”

Your friend cut you off by handing you a wine tumbler as they took another sip from their own.

“It’s really good,” they confirmed as you took a drink, relishing in the sweet burst of the wine on your tongue and smiling as a strong flavor of crisp, green apples lingered once you swallowed.

“That’s gonna be dangerous.”

Smiling, you spread out the red and black checkered blanket you brought, ignoring the crumbs of sand that inevitably crept their way over the freshly laid fabric, and plopped down, wiggling your bum to encourage the sand beneath to provide you a more comfortable seat.

You watched as a few of your friends lit the bonfire and before you knew it, the sun had been replaced by the moon, nothing but the big fire’s glow and a few tiki torches left to light up the night.

Buzzed from the wine, the laughter, or maybe just from the ocean herself as she continued to crash on the shore, your eyes widened when a sudden whoop of cheers erupted. Immediately, your eyes met Rami’s. Swallowing thickly, you refilled your tumbler and retreated back to your blanket, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

As Rami made his round of hellos, someone turned on their speaker and music filled the night, loud enough to issue a challenge to the crackling bonfire and to the ocean.

“Come on! Come dance,” your friend pleaded, and you waved them off.

“I need way more booze in my system before I dance.”

Your friend laughed and gave you the middle finger as they headed into the small crowd that had begun dancing on the opposite side of the bonfire.

“Anyone sitting with you?” a deep, familiar voice sounded and you took your time traveling up the owner of that voice’s body before you met his gaze.

Rami looked like . . . Rami.

He was dressed in a pair of slim-fit, green shorts that stopped about two inches above his knee, and a blue or grey lightweight button down, loosely buttoned to show a portion of his chest, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up at his elbows. He was wearing a pair of worn canvas flip-flops, and when you shook your head “no” and he sat down, the smell of his cologne washed over you like a baptism.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Same old,” you shrugged. “I think the more interesting question in this situation is how are you?”

Rami smiled softly, his pretty eyes finally turning away from you and toward the fire.

“Tired.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, giving you time to take a sip of wine.

“Ready for a drink?”

“I did a little pre-gaming,” he confessed as he shifted just a bit closer to you so he could reach into his back pocket and retrieve a small, silver flask.

“And you drove out here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Rami laughed as he answered, “Still giving me shit, Y/N? I missed that.”

Rami’s eyes connected with yours and everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing back—the good, the bad, and the neverwas. Those feelings sloshed around in your gut like the sweet, summer wine you had been drinking, and when you finally broke free from his gaze, you took a shaky breath as you realized you felt like you were on fire, your skin set to melt at any second.

“Rami fuckin’ Malek! How are you? And where the fuck’s Sami?”

As Rami reached out to clasp his old friend’s hand, you shot off the blanket and escaped what you thought was the heat of the bonfire. As you brushed the remnants of some sand off the backs of your thighs, you walked down the beach until you were out of the light and immersed in shadow.

The Rami sitting around tonight’s bonfire no longer led the same life as the Rami from a few years ago who had shown up on your doorstep, grinning like a madman to tell you he landed the lead of a TV show. This Rami—this Rami was an international movie star.

He wasn’t the same man . . . was he?

As you made your way back to the bonfire, you shook off your thoughts and were nearly free of Rami’s intrusion until he was suddenly there, right in front of you, holding out your cup.

“You left this—thought you might want it.”

“Thanks, Ram,” you said, reaching for the tumbler and as you took it from Rami’s grip, his fingers brushed yours and when that old surge of electricity shivered through your skin, you knew you were fucked.

“Wanna, uh, toast with me?” he asked, his eyes flicking up from the way they had been watching your lips move when you thanked him.

Shaking your head and unable to hide your smile, you said, “Sure—but you better have something good to say.”

“Still giving me shit.”

You laughed and kicked some sand over his toes. “Shut up and toast already.”

Rami took a deep, dramatic breath and said, “To the possibility of tomorrow. Or tonight. To the possibility of possibility.”

You giggled and raised your glass, and he clicked his own tumbler that someone must have handed off to him with yours.

“That was a terrible toast.”

Rami swallowed his wine and grinned closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping you up in a strong hug.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were assaulted by memories of friendship, and your sometimes more than friendship, the memories crashing like the dimmed din of the ocean until you just let yourself go, let yourself get swept out to the sea that had always been Rami. Rami fucking Malek.

“I missed your smartass mouth,” he said as he kissed your jaw near your ear and released you from his grip.

“I missed how expensive you smell.”

“You used to tell me that when I was buyin’ shit that was like 30 bucks a bottle.”

“It’s just the magic of you, I guess,” you grinned as you reached up and tweaked his chin.

“I’m not magic—I’m not even sure what the fuck I am anymore,” Rami said through a smile, his eyes containing more seriousness than you were prepared for.  

“Oh, now that’s deep,” you said, your brows furrowing with slight concern, but your voice still holding a teasing lilt. “Don’t go all tortured artist on me now. Surely you didn’t come out tonight to muse about your life?”

Rami was quiet for a moment, taking a sip from his cup before he said, “I came out to see you.”

You groaned and closed your eyes for a second before replying, “Scratch that, Alex. I’ll take Tortured Artist for 300.”

Rami laughed quietly, “I meant it when I said—”

“Rami?! Dude! Thought you were Sam! How the fuck they hangin, man?”

Saved again, you returned to the comfort of your blanket, but pulled it away from the fire and out of the light of one of the tiki torches. You flopped down onto your back, your heels dug comfortably into the sand as you enjoyed the cool breeze that wafted up from the ocean instead of the intense heat of the bonfire.

“Rami’s here!” your best friend announced as she landed next to you, flecks of sand pinging against your arm.

“I know.”

“You talked to him?”

“He talked to me.”

“He talked to you?”

You chuckled. “Yes, sweet drunk. He talked to me. Said he missed me.”

Your best friend launched herself half on top of you, her eyes looking ginormous as they peered into yours, the wine from her breath wafting over your face as she faux whispered, “Oh my fucking GOD.”

You reached up, laughing, and squished her cheeks as you said, “I KNOW!”

“Tell him. Tell him how you feeooph—"

“Finish that sentence and I’m garnishing my wine glass with your lips.”

She licked your fingers and you released her as she countered, “S’not a glass. It’s plastic.

You looked at each other and laughed, her rolling away to lay on her back next to you again for all of 30 seconds before another song came on that she liked.

In a stumbling flash, she was up and gone and your field of vision was once again unimpaired as you looked up at the night sky.

“Tryin’ to hide from me?” Rami asked as he sat down.

“You found me, so I’m not doing a very good job.”

Without looking, you could tell that Rami’s face fell by his tone when he said, “I’m sorry. I have no right to impose myself on you.”

Before he could get up, you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t go.”

“You sure?”

You looked over at him and gave him a sweet smile.

“I’m sure. Besides, one of our pals is sure to interrupt us.”

Rami snorted, “Yeah. Lookin’ for Sami.”

“By the way, where is he?”

“Not you too,” Rami groaned as he laid on his back, mimicking your position with his knees bent and heels dug into the sand.

“Fine. Don’t answer. Shall we just dive right into your existential crisis?”

“I hate you,” Rami deadpanned.

“You brought it up by saying what the fuck even is my life earlier . . .”

“Sami is out with his new girlfriend. Didn’t bring her because she doesn’t like the beach.”

You sat up on your elbows and looked over at Rami. His eyes were closed, his wine cup nestled into the sand near his hand.

“She doesn’t like . . . the beach? That’ll last,” you finished with a snort.

He chuckled. “Haven’t met her yet, but I’m not feelin’ her. I think he’s still hung up on Annalise.”

“Who is here tonight, loving the beach . . . and that Pauly-D lookin’ guy she brought.”

“I texted him that as soon as I got here.”

“Snitch.”

Rami opened his eyes and twisted his head to look up at you.

“What? You’ve always been a snitch. And the two of you have always had the worst taste in women.”

Now Rami sat straight up and turned to face you, his face now hidden in shadow thanks to your distance from the fire. However, people seemed to have forgotten about you, so it didn’t look like you were going to be interrupted again.

“Like you’ve had better luck.”

“Keepin’ tabs on me?”

Rami shifted and you were able to see his face again, his eyes lit up with his desire to tease you.

“And if I am?”

“I’d really love to know why.”

Rami bit his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it.

“I’d rather show you why.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you looked over at him, the night suddenly too hot again despite your distance from the bonfire.

His eyes held yours, more effective than any venom that could cause paralysis.

Your tongue wet your lips, seemingly of its own accord, and that was all the invitation Rami needed before he leaned over and kissed you, his warm hand sliding around the back of your head.

His lips were a little chapped, but when your tongue met the warm, wet, softness of his, desire replaced every conflicting emotion that had run amok in your mind that evening.

You pulled Rami closer as you laid flat on your back and he shifted, his body half covering yours as he explored your mouth.

When the kiss ended, you knew things would never be the same between you again. This was it—this was the moment when your relationship chose a side. No more straddling. No more giving, then taking back.

“Rami. I—”

“Shh. Just listen,” he interrupted, leaning up on his arm so he could look down at you. “No matter what happens to me, my first instinct is to talk to you. I just wanna hear your voice. I find myself living with you in my mind as this eternal figure of response. I always wonder what you would think about something. And I think that’s what’s happened in my past relationships—no matter who I’m with, the only voice I wanna hear is yours.”

You searched his face and were overwhelmed by the vulnerability you found written on it after his confession. For this single moment, you held the power to accept him or to reject him.

“Thank god you’ve finally pulled your head out of your ass to realize that what’s best for you has been right in front of your stupidcute nose this entire time.”

“In front of my stupidcute nose, huh?” Rami said, his face transformed by your acceptance.

“Yeah. I said it.”

“Wanna get out of here? Go someplace and talk?”

“I do,” you answered. “But first I really wanna make out with you.”

Rami laughed, a deep rumbling that sounded low in his throat and chest.

“Whatever you want, Y/N. I’m gonna do my fucking best to make sure you have it.”

Grinning, you pulled him into a kiss.

[beerecordings]

Umm is it possible to ask for different ipliers/septic egos accidently walking in on a Jim Jim religion meeting?

hahaha okay okay a goofy piece for a funny prompt. credit to the anon who suggested that the Jim twins would think JJ stood for Jim Jim, an idea which then progressed into us all joking about the twins starting a JJ-based religion (posts about it are tagged Jim Jim Jameson lol). so here’s a slightly crack fic but still a funny and sometimes cute look at the way the Jims interact with the others. a quick piece, slightly ridiculous hahaha <3

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

“Burgers? Who wants burgers and who wants hot dogs? Cheese? Who wants cheese? You know what, Derekson, just get me a list of everybody and what they want.”

“Wilford, sir, that’s not a spatula.”

“No? Then what is it, my dear boy?”

“Looks like somebody’s Wall-E DVD, Wil.”

Chase chokes on his soda and tries not to laugh aloud, though all he ends up doing is spitting Dr. Pepper out of his nose.

“Chase!” gripes Marvin, shoving his lawn chair away. “Gross!”

“He’s out of his fucking mind,” wheezes Chase, trying to keep it down.

“They all are,” hisses back Marvin, but he’s laughing too. Chase can see it in the shine in his eyes.

“Hey, shut up, man,” laughs Bing.

“You shut up,” shoots back Marvin.

“No, you.”

“You are two to one here, Bing-a-ling,” teases Chase, grinning.

“Aw, come off it,” chuckles the robot, sitting back. “Pass me a beer, will you?”

“You can’t drink liquids, Bing.”

“I like the aesthetic!”

“Wilford!” Edward is boxing Wilford away from the grill, trying to keep him from using Eric’s glasses as his second impromptu spatula. “I am grilling, you are absolutely one hundred percent banned from anything involving fire.”

“Now, see here, Bim,” growls Wilford.

“I’m Edward, Wilford. Google, tell Wilford he’s not allowed on the grill!”

On the other side of the space between the three houses, a head with shining black hair turns only slightly, and a smooth voice sounds.

“Wilford,” calls Google. “I have yet to see the darkness. Do you think he is in pain, stuck in his room?”

Wilford’s eyes flicker, distracted, even a little unnerved. He puffs himself up after a moment, dropping Eric’s glasses into the grass as if they were never in his hand to begin with. “What, my blackbird, stuck in his bedroom? I shall carry him if I have to. And we will sit on the grass and drink this cocaine soda everyone is always raving about!”

“For the last time,” groans Edward. “There’s no cocaine in Coca-Cola anymore!”

But Wilford is already hurrying off towards the house behind the peach trees, whistling to himself as he goes.

“Thank you, Google,” calls Ippy, sighing deeply, and across the yard the android raises a hand in silent acquiescence, his attention still on Jameson’s rapid signing. Something about American tea, as far as Chase can tell. He laughs and sits back against Bing’s legs, sprawling his own boots out in front of him and finishing his soda with a quiet sigh. There’s beer for his brothers but, like the residents of these three houses, he won’t have any. He’s supposed to be happy while they’re visiting this mess of a – would you call it a family? – and he won’t let old habits get in the way. He casts his eyes quietly around the yard, almost sleepy with the comforting laziness of the little vacation. Jackie is the center of Shep and Host’s attention, telling an enthusiastic story about a burning building that turned out to be a drug front he busted back in Brighton, Henrik is exchanging a birdie back and forth with Bim as they wait for Ippy and Eric to come back for doubles, and Marvin is right here, kicking Chase’s foot for fun while Google discusses Earl Grey in a monotone behind them.

“This is weird,” says Chase.

“Yeah,” says Bing.

“But not so much in a bad way,” adds Marvin, and they exchange grins over sodas and beers, warm in the sun and the scratchy California grass.

“Okay, I got everybody’s order, right?” calls Ippy, flipping a burger. “Host, you – oh, no, here you are. The twins, where are the twins? Hey, who knows what the twins want? Where are they?”

“I saw them going down into that little, uh, door?” says Chase, pointing at a pair of wooden doors sticking out of the earth by the third house.

“Oh, yeah, an old shelter,” sighs Ippy. “They hang out down there sometimes. I should get them, maybe, uh – ”

“Aw, no sweat, doc,” says Chase, clambering to his feet. “I’ll see what they want. You focus on getting the meat just right.”

“Thanks, Brody.”

Chase tweaks Marvin’s ear teasingly as he passes and steps towards the doors across the way, setting his feet and pulling them gently open. He steps down into the concrete basement and finds that it’s actually been decorated quite nicely for an underground bomb shelter – thick rugs are layered across the floor, leaving a little patch of space in the corner for a heater, and a pair of electric camping lanterns surround the twins where they’re sitting in the middle of the shelter, working on –

“Um,” says Chase. “Is that Jamie?”

Both twins let out shrieks of surprise and the first leans hurriedly down to blow out the candle of his lantern. It is, however, still electric. He groans in despair and flops down onto the rug, hiding the papers and pictures that litter the floor in his arms.

“Intruder!” wails the second, covering his eyes with his hands. “Jim’s fortress is breached!”

Chase is too distracted to reply by the pictures of his brother, which he now sees are not just littering the floor, but also covering the walls. Some of them are hand-drawn, hurried stick figures with mustaches and black hats, while others have been printed off from the internet, showing Jamie’s smiling face in sepia brown or grey and white.

“Uhhhhhh,” says Chase. “I, uh. What is this?”

“Nothing,” promise both twins, grabbing each other for support.

“Chase! Chase!” Feet patter down the stairs, bringing wild laughter with them, and Jackie and Shep appear with Jackie’s hands wrapped around the biggest toad Chase has ever seen, struggling in his hands. “Look at this fucking toad!”

“He just snatched it right off the ground,” howls Shep, who has always found anything Jackie did to be hilariously funny.

“I thought you’d appreciate more than Henrik, who slapped me for trying to make him pet it,” giggles Jackie, shoving it into Chase’s face. “He’s perfect and he – what the hell is all this?”

Shep and Jackie go just as quiet as Chase did, staring around the walls.

“Did you marker a mustache onto your puppy?” asks Shep, pointing at the stuffed animal in one of the Jims’ arms.

“Why does your computer have a livefeed of Jamie eating a hot dog?” asks Jackie a little more dangerously.

“Okay, fine, you have caught Jim!” cries the first one. “Jim is celebrating the great Jim Jim with knick-knacks and cute pictures.”

“His name – ” Shep pauses to sigh and smack his own forehead. “Boys. We have talked about some of these obsessions. The last thing you ‘celebrated’ was that three toed-sloth you saw on Planet Earth.”

“She was perfect!” howl both twins in sync. “Perfect, she was perfect! She just wanted a mate, Silver Jim, she just wanted a husband! She could swim, Silver Jim! She was a sloth with three toes!”

“Are they going to like, uh. Hurt and/or kidnap Jameson?” asks Jackie, touching Shep’s arm.

“What, the twins? No. They’re harmless. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, not on purpose. They once tied a string around one and then it died because they didn’t know how to feed it and they cried until Eric brought them popsicles, but that’s just the twins.”

Jackie steps politely over the babbling twins and carefully turns off the livefeed of Jamie.

“Jim likes JimJim!”

“Why is he leaving tomorrow?”

“Freedom of worship, Silver Jim! America!”

“Okay, okay,” cries Silver, waving his hands to quiet them. “Sh, boys, it’s okay, hey. Don’t fuss. Look, Jackie found a toad!”

The twins sniffle and turn their attention to the toad, instantly excited again.

“Oh! Like in Frog and Toad!”

“Like in Rango!”

“Like in the Princess and the Frog! But a toad! Can Jim have it, Mr. not-quite Jim Jim, please?”

Jackie shrugs and hands them the toad. “What are you going to call it?”

“Jameson!” cry both twins at once, happily petting the toad’s head as it croaks.

Jackie, Chase, and Shep exchange glances.

“Well, we’re heading out tomorrow,” says Chase.

“And I’m driving back to my apartment in the city,” adds Shep.

“Pretend we never saw this?” Jackie suggests.

“Yep,” answer Shep and Chase together, and the three of them turn and head right back up the stairs, passing a confused Ippy with two plates of hot dogs, who gives them one odd look and then continues down.

“Boys!” he hollers a moment later, and Chase, Jackie, and Silver all burst into laughter and hurry away, sitting down around Jameson, who wants to know what exactly is so funny?

“Nothing,” they all promise, ignoring Google’s eyeroll and Jamie’s indulgent smile. “Just another obsession of the Jims, haha.”

“Well, they go through three of those a week,” sighs Google. “Don’t get too excited. Whatever it is, they’ll be over it in a couple days.”

Perhaps that is usually true.

But not this time.

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

“Okay,” says Ippy, surveying the room besides the kitchen, blinking slowly. “This has officially gone too far.”

Host laughs rich and low, covering his mouth and leaning against the doorway, apparently endlessly amused by this newest interest of the cameramen’s. Eric giggles weakly, glancing around, but there’s a light of alarm in his eyes too, and it only makes Host laugh harder when he senses it, halfway collapsing against the doorway.

“Why is typewriter Jim laughing?” complains the second Jim, pasting another picture in a scrapbook labeled ‘the greatness of JimJim.’

“Is this a fucking cult?” asks Host. “I’ve seen worse but this one is certainly the cutest.”

“Jim is not cute!” protests the second Jim, while the first asks, “Oh, Jim, would you like to join Jim?”

“No, honey,” laughs Host, striding away. “I leave more patient men than I to deal with this.”

“Host,” grumbles Ippy, before sighing and turning his attention back to the Jims. “Boys, this isn’t a cult, right?”

“What’s a cult?” asks the second.

“Jim thinks the word doctor Jim is looking for is religion,” pipes up the first helpfully.

Edward turns around so he can swear without them hearing. Eric laughs again, relaxing the more he looks around and stepping over to sit down with the twins.

“Come on, Ippy. They’re just having fun.”

“Worshipping Jameson is not an appropriate way to have fun,” protests Edward.

“They’re scrap-booking.” Eric holds up the little book, which is, admittedly, rather well-made for a Jim project.

“And making a documentary!” exclaims Jim, holding his computer out to Eric, where iMovie is open to several very shaky shots of Jameson sitting on the couch or talking with the others or, on one screen, cooking omelets and turning occasionally to smile at the eagerly narrating twins.

“And making a documentary,” repeats Eric fondly, ruffling his hair. “It’s just arts and crafts.”

“There’s a poster of Jameson made out of sticky notes on the wall!”

“And look how good they did at putting the notes together!”

“Thank you, sweater Jim,” say both the twins politely, smiling.

“Eric, it’s creepy. They don’t need to learn to be obsessing over other people.”

“You let them stalk Mark for two months.”

“Oh, yeah, cause that was hilarious,” laughs Ippy, throwing his head back. “He was so confused. Fuck Mark!”

“Fuck Mark,” repeat the twins eagerly.

“No! Don’t swear, guys, I know you’ll start doing it at work if I let you do it at home,” sighs Ippy.

“Jim would never swear in front of the petting zoo animals!” cries the first Jim.

“And Jim would never swear while helping with the news!” adds the second, indignant.

“See how responsible they are! Ip, let them be. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get too creepy. Like, uh. The hairs in this scrapbook aren’t actually Jameson’s, are they?”

“Yes, from Jim Jim’s mustache,” answer both twins, beaming.

“Well, why don’t you let me have that,” suggests Eric, carefully unstapling the plastic bag with a few stray dark hairs at the bottom.

“You two will be the death of me,” says Ippy, shaking his head.

But they do look damn sweet when they’re smiling that big.

“Okay, but no filming Jameson when he’s not looking anymore.”

“Okay, doctor Jim,” promise the twins.

“Jim will do it when Jim Jim and doctor Jim are both not looking,” whispers the second.

“They’ll never suspect it,” agrees the first in a hush. Eric laughs, tidying their scrapbook materials a little.

“You could even learn BSL like Jamie, maybe,” he suggests.

The twins light up like fireworks.

“BSL!” repeats the first one, clapping his hands together.

“JIM CAN SPEAK AS THE GREAT JIM SPEAKS,” screams the second at the top of his lungs, and this is enough to startle Bing, who was about to ride his skateboard down the stairs. He yelps in alarm as his board slips beneath him, and a moment later he comes crashing hard down the stairs and lands in a heap of sparking parts at Ippy’s feet.

“The death of me!” repeats the doctor furiously, waving his finger around accusingly. “All of you! This whole house! This whole clearing! I’ll die at thirty-four! You’ll have to bury me! Have fun with my funeral expenses, you complete bastards.”

“Bastards!” repeat the twins.

“Look bastards up in BSL!”

“Look Jim up in BSL!”

“Look everything up in BSL!”

Ippy has the distinct feeling he’s being made fun of, just a little, but even Bing is laughing, and all he can do is try not to smile as he heads back out the door.

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

“Can’t you move a body a little more quietly?”

Wilford hauls the heavy tarp across the pathway and grunts, flicking a little blood off his fingers. “Well, you could help!”

“Why would I do that when I have you to do it for me?” purrs back Dark, following him down the pathway towards the car.

“You just like to feel like you’re manipulating something,” scolds Wilford, pausing just to boop Dark’s nose. In protest, Dark vanishes back into the void and leaves Wilford with nothing but a sulking shadow drifting around his feet.

“And now you’re a smoke kitty,” coos Wilford, dragging the body farther down the path.

“Just hurry,” says Dark, re-appearing in a masculine form this time. “You know I prefer for the twins to stay sheltered and I don’t want them catching us again.”

“Catching what?” asks Jim, standing in the trees with his camera.

Wilford swears colorfully and Dark dissipates back into shadow on instinct, spitting out curses of his own.

“Now, see here, Iplier,” says Wilford. “It’s quite rude to be sneaking up on a fellow.”

“That’s Jim, Wil.”

“Oh. What in the name of Burt Reynolds are you two doing out here so late at night?”

“Oh! We’re filming for a documentary for Jim Jim.”

“They mean Jameson,” Dark tells Wil.

“Who’s Jameson?” whispers Wilford.

Dark sighs very deeply.

“He is the great Jim!” cries the second Jim, rising from the bushes like a Peanuts character on Halloween.

“The great Jim,” repeats the first Jim solemnly.

“He’s that little old-fashioned…” Dark waves his hand, trying to find the right word. “Jackson. You’ve met him.”

“Oh, I know who you mean. The British chap with the truly excellent mustache. But he’s not even out here, what are you filming?”

“Well, he is not here. But Jim has heard is very fond of hedgehogs. So Jim is trying to find some!”

“Are there hedgehogs in America?” whispers Wilford.

“Fuck if I know,” answers Dark irritably.

“Would you like to join Jim in the search for hedgehogs and ultimately the eternal worship of the great Jim Jim?”

“Don’t look so hopeful, you little miscreant, you know I avoid engaging with you at all costs,” growls Dark, but the twins just giggle.

“They used to be afraid of you,” teases Wilford.

“Shut up,” snipes Dark. “I could make them afraid in about two seconds.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“But you won’t.”

“The real question,” interrupts one of them – Dark can’t tell them apart. “Is what are Dark and pink Jim doing out in the forest late at night? Jim is a very good reporter, you know. Jim uncovers mysteriousnesses.”

“I think you mean mysteries,” says Dark. “And we’re, uh.”

Wil and Dark glance at the body in between them.

“Returning a lamp to the store,” finishes Wil.

Dark closes his eyes. His exasperation has set in so deep he can feel it in his broken spine. He’s going to kill Wilford. But then again, he thinks that about three times a day and never seems to make good on his threat.

“A lamp,” says Jim.

“A lamp,” repeats his brother.

They stare down at the wrapped corpse.

“That checks out,” says the first.

“Jim is an investigative journalist so Jim can tell,” agrees the second.

“Just get out of my sight,” snaps Dark, advancing on them with shadow cloaking his set shoulders, and the twins shriek in equal parts fear and excitement and go darting back into the underbrush.

“You’re it, Mr. Dark!”

“Run, Jim! Run!”

Dark crosses his arms over his chest and turns to glare at Wilford.

“I could scare them if I wanted to.”

Wilford just smiles and picks up the body again, pausing only to give Dark a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I know you could, little ghost. Hey, should we be worried they appear to be worshipping Jacksepticeye?”

“Should I be concerned you told me you worshipped the Pillsbury dough boy while you were drunk last week?”

“Oh, no, the body is slipping! Let me just – ” He picks it up and slings it over his shoulder, sprinting towards the car and away from any further questions. Dark rolls his eyes and drifts back into the shadows, following peaceably after him.

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

Google blinks awake to a pair of eyes staring back at him.

Check that. Two pairs of eyes.

“Boys,” he says levelly. “I’m charging. This had better be an emergency.”

Jim and Jim exchange looks.

Carefully, they push a crumpled pamphlet with Jameson’s face drawn on it in crayon beneath his nose.

“Join our religion?”

Google gets out of bed in one swooping motion, drags them both out of the house, and, ignoring the shrill cries of “why, cruel computer Jim?” and “persecution! Persecution! Persecution!” dumps them both bodily into the lake.

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

Everybody gets to hear about it at one point or another. The Jims’ amicability for JJ, taken a little too far, is occasionally annoying, but nevertheless remains largely harmless. In the name of the great JJ, they pick up more than one of his hobbies – taking care of injured animals, painting with watercolors, dressing in black and white – and develop rudimentary BSL that actually turns out to be really helpful on the days when the twins are distressed and won’t talk out loud. Most of them learn to tolerate it with amusement, though Host never stops thinking it’s one of the funniest things they’ve ever done and Google makes sure they learn the consequences of being too irritating. Bing and Eric bring them craft supplies and trinkets from the store that remind them of JJ, while Ippy entices them to eat their vegetables and sit still through examinations with made-up stories about how tough and healthy Jameson is. On Christmas Eve, as a reward for being good all year, Ippy asks Jameson to Skype with them for a little while, and he’d never seen the twins so excited and yet so well-mannered at the same time, even managing to use first-person pronouns for themselves once or twice, eager to impress JJ.

“Good signing,” he congratulates them, looking soft and snuggly in the Christmas Eve pajamas he and his brothers all exchanged for the night.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” sign the twins eagerly, and Ippy chuckles, blowing on their hot chocolate to cool it before he brings it to them.

“You must have been dedicated,” says Jameson, and when they don’t understand, he substitutes the word “good.”

“Good!” chirps Jim, clapping his hands together. “Good! We have! We have!”

“You will tell Santa to bring us gifts, then?” asks his brother eagerly. Ippy smiles and takes a sip of the chocolate, checking the temperature carefully.

JJ laughs. “How will I tell him? Did you write letters?”

“Yes, we did. But I bet he will believe it if Jim Jim puts in a good word for us!”

“That’s sweet,” chuckles JJ, keeping his hands slow. “But I think he will listen to you too! I’m just little old me.”

“Yeah,” says Jim cheerfully. “God.”

Ippy spits the hot chocolate out and races over to slam shut the computer before he can see Jameson’s reaction.

“Boys!” he hollers. “Too far!”

Iplier hears a thud as, up the stairs and narrating this story to himself, Host laughs so hard he tumbles right out of his bed.

[voltagesmutter]

I’m bad for you

Prompt: Gavin - “Everyone keeps telling me your the bad guy”.

Sighing as you pick up your notebook, taking it from your bag, your eyes almost burrowing a hole into the short brown locks in front of you. Gavin. The school bad boy, A+ in trouble making and causing chaos. He probably didn’t even know your name, but everybody knew his, especially with his reputation. 

‘Gavin Bai is a total bad-ass’. ‘I heard he’s the poster boy for bullying. In Japan’. ‘One time he punched me in the face. It was awesome’. 

“Right I’ve paired you for this assignment so listen out,” Your professor began to real off names, “So that leaves Gavin and Bella”. Your heart almost stopped, paired with Gavin? No, no, no, you were a top student and he… he was top student in not doing work. With a heavy groan your head falls onto your desk with a slight thud, a tut from in-front of you from the amber eyed boy. 

“I’m not that bad,” He mumbles, turning around to sit the other side of your desk as you pull your face up to look at him. 

“Look, no offence but I really need the grades for this class, so I don’t mind doing all the work if you just go along with it,” You whine, unable to take your eyes off of his. For a repeatable bad boy, his face certainly didn’t match it, he had very soft features with the most caring eyes you had ever seen.

“Fine with me,” He replied, kicking back in his chair.

“Now this is a paired assignment so I want evidence of you both working together, an updated video blog featuring both of you, along with a written assignment from each of you,” Your professor heavily emphasises both of you, whilst looking at Gavin. 

“I’m going to fail this,” You groan and slap your head once more before your desk.

“Jeeze, stop it, you’ll put a bruise on that pretty head of yours,” Gavin sighs, pushing you up by your shoulders, “Look, I���ll help you on this okay, I won’t let you fail”. You nod meekly and mouth a thank you to him. 

“So this is my place,” You say, opening the door to your apartment, being followed in by Gavin. He actually offered to help you after school with the assignment claiming ‘the faster it was over, the faster he could go back to not caring’.

“You live alone? Where are your parents?” He asks, noticing the small, cramped apartment.

“My um… my parents passed away last year,” You smile weakly, it still hurts to talk about it, “That’s why I need good grades so I can provide for myself and get a decent job,”. You settle down onto your sofa before pulling out your laptop and guesting for Gavin to sit next to you.

“Why don’t you just do what all the other girls plan on doing in and marry a wealthy businessman, I’ve read some articles online about a Victor Li who’s only four years older than us who’s breaking records with his profits,” Gavin smugly suggests and you roll your eyes. 

“I’m not like other girls,” You snap, “I have a plan, I want to take over Miracle Finder, a program my dad uses to produce when I finish, I don’t need a man to have money, I’m only 16 I don’t plan on getting married for a long time”. Slightly dumbfounded at your response, a small curve forms onto Gavin’s lips.

“So anyway,” You quickly brush the conversation to focus on the work. You didn’t realise several hours had passed until you heard Gavin’s stomach rumbling.

“You're hungry? Do you want me to cook?” You ask, turning to him, his head buried in your notebook, surprisingly being useful.

“You cook?”.

“Gave, I live alone, I kind of have to,” You laugh, standing up, not seeing the blushing tint of his cheeks from your nickname, “Since you’ve been so helpful let me cook for you as a thank you,”.

“You really don’t need to,” He protests.

“Please, it’s nice to have company, it- it gets lonely…” You softly whisper before Gavin caves and agrees. You really enjoyed your evening with him, his personality was nowhere near the bad boy reputation you had heard of, in fact he was pleasantly charming. 

“Thank you for your help today,” You smile leading him to the door, you had planned several more working sessions over the next few days.

“No bother, can’t let you fail now and make you have to marry a successful, rich, man now can we,” He teases with a smile as you roll your eyes.

“Thank you,” You softly whisper before pressing a ghosted kiss to his cheek, leaving a heavy blush along his skin as you shut your apartment door, feeling slightly giddy at what you had just done.

The next few weeks flew by with a breeze, you spending increasingly more time with Gavin which you deeply enjoyed. Something about him just clicked with you, you felt most alive when you were with him. 

“Bella, what are you doing with that Gavin boy? Don’t you know he’s bad news?” Your friend asked you as you lay about on the grass outside.

“He’s not bad at all! I just think he’s mistaken is all,” You pout.

“He’s a bad guy Bella, didn’t you hear about how he beat up some seniors last week?”. You scoff at her question.

“Look we're working together, that is all okay, I think you guys need to give him a break and lay off of him!” You snap, standing up and gathering your things before storming away into the music room. You angrily throw your bag to the ground as you sit down at the piano, music was always your best distraction when you felt angry or wound up. You began the crescendo of notes, getting lost in your thoughts, no-one of them knew Gavin, how dare they judge him! He was nothing like the horrific rumours you had heard, instead you saw the sweet, caring side to him that made your heart melt. You couldn’t deny the feeling you felt towards him, there almost felt like a spark as if you was meant to be together. 

As you continued with the build up of notes, you never noticed the broken Gavin laying outside of the window, stab wounds puncturing his skin as he lay there ready to give up on life. It wasn’t until he heard the musical harmony accompanied by singing coming from the window that he felt a powerful lease of life take over him. Practically floating from the ground, he saw you from the back, he could instantly tell it was you, performing to yourself. A performance that saved his life. 

You grew worried when Gavin missed your thirds study arrangement, no texts or replies from him, your heart aching dully. He hadn’t been in class either, it was like he vanished from existence. You only had a week left for the assignment and it was only little things and round ups that needed tiny tweaks doing to them, which you could easily do alone but you grew so fond of your partner being there. You buried yourself deep into your work until a knock at the door disturbed you, you opened it to see Gavin.

“Gave?” You smile but he cuts you off with a sharp ‘Gavin’. You frown slightly and invite him, regardless of his cold misdemeanour. 

“I’m only here to record the final part and then going, here” He says, shoving a essay into your hands. You blink repeatedly at his sternness, had you upset him?

“Is there a reason? Have I done something to upset you?” You ask but he doesn’t look at you.

“I’m no good for you Bella, I just bring trouble where I go,”.

“Don’t be so silly, I’ve actually enjoyed your company,” You laugh, putting down the papers and pulling out the camera, “Shall we?”. The pair of you finish up your video and you can’t stop smiling, your work looked so good, both of your hard work paid off!

“Right, so I’ll be going,” Gavin says, standing up heading to the door but you reach for him, gently holding his wrist.

 “Do you have too? Gavin what is wrong?” You ask, standing up.

“I told you I’m no good for you,”.

“I don’t… I don’t understand?”.

“If you even think about getting close to me, it will just hurt you okay,” He shuts his eyes.

“Everyone keeps telling me you're the bad guy,” You softly whisper and slowly his cheek with your hand as his eyes open to find yours, “But I don’t see it, all I see is a hugely mis-understood boy, with probably the sweetest heart I’ve ever seen”. Gavin slowly places his hand over yours, before removing them from his face, placing a gentle kiss to your hand and leaving your apartment. Only you didn’t know this would be the last time you saw the amber eyed beauty. 

You passed your assignment with the highest marks, only Gavin wasn’t there to celebrate. Rumours began to fly around, someone about him being stabbed, some about being thrown from the roof, others about disappearing into the night never to be seen again. It hurt having him being wiped from your life completely, as if he never existed but what you didn’t know was he was always there, always watching and protecting you from afar. He felt his heart almost break when he watched you sobbing in the music room, unable to comfort you or reassure you out of fear of his and your own safety.

---

“I’m getting married tomorrow, you need to leave!” You giggle, pushing Gavin out of your apartment.

“Your going to be a beautiful bride you know, he must be one lucky man,” He chuckles.

“Oh he’s one of a kind,” You smile before shutting the door.

---

You clung to Victor's arm as he began to guide you down the aisle.

“You look beautiful, just breathe,” He chuckles softly in a whisper, your grip tightening as you make your way slowly to the altar.

“Thank you dad,” You can’t help but giggle, your heart pounding so loud you was positive the whole church could hear it. As you reached the end, Victor slowly let go, passing you into the arms of your soon to be husband.

“Hi,” He whispers quietly, taking your hand in his.

“Hi,” You smile, the pure love radiating out of both of your bodies.

“You look radiant,”.

“You scrub up pretty good for a bad guy,” You tease softly, Gavin chuckling. 

“I love you,” He whispers, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“I love you too,” You squeeze back, the vicar giving you both a look to stop talking. The ceremony was beautiful but it was Gavin’s words of proclaimed love that brought you tears.

When I met you, I was heavily known as the bad guy, little care in the world. But as soon as I met you, that all changed, I met someone who saw past it all and brought out my better side, a side I didn’t know I had. You brought meaning and love into my own, saving my life over and over again and all I want to do is spend the rest of my life repaying you. I love you more and more each and every day.

“I can’t believe I married a bad guy,” You tease, giving your husband a sweet kiss.

“You best believe it Mrs.Bai, or should I say Mrs.Bad guy,” He chuckles, picking you up bridal style, before opening the door to your bridal suite where the pair of you showered each other in unconditional love the whole evening.

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A GNR Fanfic

Chapter 12: Practice

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. In a desperate attempt to make it big doing what she does, she cuts her hair and mascardes as Duff. What’s the wors that could happen?

Chapter Summary: Duff attends a not so smooth band practice which doesn’t go smoothly. She also realizes some things with tipsy.

(Masterlist)

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @queen-crue @achiweyow @bitter-13-suite

“I’m just saying that we should be playing at venues twice a week,” Axl’s voice filled the small apartment as him and Steven ‘discussed’ some band matters during our band practice.

“I never said we shouldn’t Axl, but if we don’t that’s fine,” I watched as Steven threw his arms in the air in defeat. This discussion was more of a one sided conversation . Steven would listen and respond to what Axl was saying, but Axl wasn’t listening to a word coming out of Steven’s mouth.

“Well we need to be, otherwise we will lose ALL momentum. If you’re not willing to put in the time,” before Axl could continue Steven interrupted him, “NOT WILLING TO PUT IN THE TIME?”

I shot a quick look over towards Slash who was too focused on the bottle in his hand to care about the fight that was most likely going to break out. In desperation, I turned over towards where Izzy was sitting only to meet his blank stare. I sighed at myself forgetting that he snorted a line half way through practice.

“Hey, guys. One: Stop fucking yelling you’re giving me a damn headache. Two: Axl, how about the two of us take a trip to the strip tomorrow afternoon to see if we can get a contact for another gig. Sounds good?” My voice cut through their conversation as I spoke. Children, sometimes I was surrounded by children.

I received a small nod from the red head before taking a quick break and grabbing a beer from the kitchen. Jesus Christ, I needed it if there was any hope of me making it through this band practice. For some reason Axl had had his panties in a knot the past two practices, and none of us knew why.

“Have I ever said how I like it when you yell?” I practically choked on my beer when Izzy startled me in the kitchen.

“No...don’t recall rhythm boy,” I teased back taking another sip,

“You going out tonight?”

“Yeah, but as Michelle...not Duff. My roommates are worried that what I’m doing is incredibly unhealthy,” I shrugged back, finishing off my drink and grabbing another.

“Well it is…”

“I never said it wasn’t. It’s just they are really starting to piss me off, and on top of that I’m still unemployed,” I took another sip as my problems began to add up.

“You partying with Mr. soloist guitar guy?”

“Why...you jealous?” I teased back, but I felt his grip tighten around my waist as he pulled me in close.

“Why would I be jealous? You already know that rhythm guys do it better, or do I need to remind you?”

“I’m sorry but my head is a little fuzzy and I can’t seem to remember that. Are you free tonight to explain it again?” I teased back earning a small smirk from the guitarists

“Gladly, and this time I’ll make sure you don’t forget,” his voice sent shivers up my spine as I watched him leave.

Fuck.

The room was still tense as I joined everyone again.

“So shall we take it from the top?” Slash asked, cueing me to prep my bass and get ready to start playing our set list.

I felt an electricity flow through me as we continued to play. Every time we played the refrain I felt like we were improving bit by bit. Maybe just maybe we had a chance. We just had to survive long enough to not have a fight break out amongst ourselves.

“Well I gotta get going!” I said after we finished making a couple tweaks to our set list.

“Come on Duff...stay! We’re going out tonight and I need my drinking buddy!” Steven cheered as I packed up my bass at the end of practice.

“No, I got dinner plans,” I replied before taking one last swig of my beer.

“Fuck the dinner plans!” Steven joked as he leaned back into his chair. As much as I wanted to stay, I knew that I had to get back home. I made a promise to my roommates and they would kill me if I ditched them.

“I can’t, plus you have Slash...that’s ⅔ of the drinking club so you’ll survive a night without me!” I replied.

“It’s not the same!” Steven whined, dodging a pillow that Slash had thrown at him.

“Are you going out after your dinner thing with your roommates?” This only earned a small laugh from Slash who was immediately the recipient from one of Axl’s glares.

“No, I got work, but I think my roommates are….why?” I tried to follow Axl’s reason for questioning me, but I couldn’t. Maybe he just wanted to avoid my roommates. I couldn’t blame him, sometimes I wish I could avoid my roommates too.

“Are you taking the bus?” Slash asked, trying to change the conversation.

“Yeah,” I shrugged as I watched Izzy and Slash share a look I had seen hundreds of times before. It was 5 pm and the afternoon, the sun had slowly begun to set, filling the sky with burnt oranges and sharp reds. I didn’t have to guess that they didn’t want me to take the bus alone when it got dark out.

“Nah, I can drive you,” Izzy got up from the couch and followed me out. I wanted to protest and say that I was perfectly fine with being able to take care of myself, but that’s something Michelle would do. When people offered Michelle rides at night it was because they didn’t want her to get hurt walking alone, but when Duff was offered rides it was because they were just being nice. Funny how the world works. I kept my mouth silent not making a big deal about it because Duff would not have made a big deal about it.

After collecting my things, I followed Izzy out.

“You sounded awesome today,” I commented, trying to get him talking.

“Thanks, you did too,” I sent him a warm smile and internally cussed at myself for how awkward I was feeling.

Thankfully he only parked his truck like a block away, so the awkwardness didn’t last long.

“Thanks for not bleeding in my truck this time. I was worried it would be a regular thing,” I didn’t have to look at Izzy to know he was smirking at his own comment

“Well Michelle is dead to the public, so no need to worry about that happening again,” I replied barely audible.

“If Michelle is dead then why are you going to a dinner party dressed as her?” Izzy snapped back. Was there frustration in his tone?

“Because of my roommates.”

“Your roommates?”

“Yes Izzy, my damn roommates are worried about me. Honestly I’m just tired of this…” I replied. I could feel it. The tears slowly fought their way out of my eyes.

“Tired of what?”

“I’m tired of living a double life...GOD why did I think masquerading as a guy was a good idea. People are finding out left and right, and it’s not going to end well.” I turned away from Izzy as the tears started to dance across my face.

“Hey...hey it’s okay. You’re just a little drunk right now,and you aren’t thinking clearly,” I felt him reach for my arm, but I immediately swatted it away.

“Thanks for the ride,” I sharply replied as I opened the truck door and headed inside towards my apartment. By now the tears were coming out like waterfalls.

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x15 - Dream a little dream... (Part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – the secret facility, around 3am. All the guests from the Thanksgiving dinner party have left. Augustus and Darius are having a little one on one before heading to bed.

 AUGUSTUS: So, how does it feel to be back from La-la land? You really had us worried for a while. Thought you were a goner.

DARIUS: How long was I out for?

AUGUSTUS: Almost a month… You’re lucky Veritas was able to use his psychic juju to break the illusion. I was about to give up.

DARIUS: Given our history, I’m surprised you even tried.

AUGUSTUS: Well, bygones. And, Pietro can be very persuasive, he insisted we get you back.

DARIUS: I’ll have to thank him for that. Listen, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, and I know I made some mistakes, but we need to find a way to get over our differences, and see this through to the end.

AUGUSTUS: I agree. That’s the only reason I accepted to do this. Also, I have to admit, you do have some irreplaceable talents.

DARIUS: As do you, from what I’ve been seeing… I could have sworn I saw Tamara at the dinner party. What are you, making clones now?

AUGUSTUS: (Smirks) Oh no, clones are of no real use. And, unlike you, I don’t like to tamper with nature. What you saw was technology at its best.

DARIUS: So, like robots, basically?

AUGUSTUS: Not exactly; more like artificial intelligence. Specifically, it’s called ASI, an artificial intelligence superior to human intelligence or ability. The superhuman, as we like to call it in the geek community.

DARIUS: And they call me the crazy one.

AUGUSTUS: Don’t confuse using technology in our advantage with a god complex, and a bad case of fatal attraction. You really lost it, Darius; almost sabotaged the order’s plan to cater to your fantasies. We can’t have that happen again, so, I hope you understand, some adjustments had to be made.

DARIUS: What are you talking about?

AUGUSTUS: Let’s just say, you didn’t get that scar on your head by accident…

DARIUS: What did you do to me?

AUGUSTUS: Don’t worry, nothing drastic. All I did was install a type of control button, to put it in a way. Just to make sure you don’t go rogue on us again. Can’t blame us for including an insurance policy after the mess you made. (Yawns) Well, I think it’s time I call it a night.

DARIUS: Question, did that “tweak” of yours involve some sort of weird programming with the movie Sunset Boulevard?

AUGUSTUS: The fifties noir film?  

DARIUS: Yes.

AUGUSTUS: Well, I am a big fan, but no; that’s all you, pal. Anyway, I need my rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.

DARIUS: Sweet dreams…

AUGUSTUS: (Somewhat confused) Uhm… okay. Make sure you get some sleep (he leaves).

DARIUS: I will, eventually…  (Darius dozes off in a daydream sort of state; the song Wicked Game by Hula-Hifi, lingering in his mind).

Cut to – The Salvatore mansion. Damon and Bonnie’s room, around 3 am. Damon wakes up suddenly, sweating and breathing heavily. He turns to Bonnie, she’s not in the bed. He gets up, knocks on the bathroom door, no answer. He opens the door, she’s not inside. Vamps downstairs, finds her watching T.V in the family room.

 DAMON: Hey, Bon-Bon; what are you doing?

BONNIE: Couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you, so…

DAMON: (Peeks to see what she is watching) Sunset Boulevard, love this movie.

BONNIE: Come, join me.

DAMON: (Vamps speeds to cuddle with her) You okay?

BONNIE: Fine, just a bad case of insomnia.

DAMON: Want some popcorn?

BONNIE: Is the answer ever no when it comes to that question?

DAMON: (Smirks, gets up) One order of large popcorn coming right up (gives her a peck on the lips, and vamps to the kitchen. Bonnie continues to watch the movie; at some point she begins to feel sleepy and dazed, almost immediately, she falls into a deep sleep).

 Cut to – 1950, Hollywood, California. The cast and crew, of what promises to be the next Oscar winning film, are getting ready for another day of shooting on set. The lead actress, a true Hollywood diva, is in her dressing room rehearsing some lines. The lead actor walks in the room, hands her a cup of coffee.

 KAT: Every day I tell you I hate that…

IAN: And every day I do it anyway.

KAT: Can you just get out, before I have security take you out.

IAN: Is that any way to treat your co-star?

KAT: The only reason you got this job is because your daddy is the head of the studio, you are a horrible actor.  

IAN: Kitty Kat, that hurts my feelings. Not everyone can sleep their way to the top, if you know what I mean… Shall we do the count? Joseph, Chris, Michael… Oh, and let’s not forget your recent one, my lovely brother, Paul… I told you, everyone knows about you two, or almost everyone… Aw, poor Candice! Anyway, you can drop the act now.

KAT: And, I told you, who I choose or don’t choose to sleep with, is none of your business, or hers. So, butt out.

IAN: You know, you are quite cute when you get mad (smirks).

KAT: I actually look cuter when I’m kicking someone’s ass; want to see?

IAN: (Wiggles is eyebrows) Ooh, you are on fire today!

Keep it up, maybe you will finally nail at least one scene. (The film director walks in). 

MATT: You two are up. And please, stop with the bickering, it’s getting very annoying. Be professional for Christ’s sake!  Come on, chop, chop! You are on in five (leaves).

KAT: How dare he speak to me that way! Does he know who I am?!

IAN: Apparently, he doesn’t care; ouch! (Hands her the coffee cup) Here, have some, looks like you are going to need it.  

KAT: Shut up… (grabs the cup reluctantly, and takes a sip. Another actress comes barging in, venting).

CANDICE: I swear if I have to do another scene with that incompetent fool, I’m quitting!

KAT: What did Chris do this time?

CANDICE: He can’t tell his left foot from his right one. How on earth did he get the part!

IAN: (Looking at Kat, teasing) Gees, I wonder how…

KAT: (Rolls her eyes, turns to Candice) Come on, he’s not that bad.

CANDICE: Please, you only say that because you slept with him. Not that I’m judging, he’s very hot, but he definitely can’t dance!

KAT: Well, he makes up for it in other areas (smirks)…

CANDICE: (Grins) Naughty, naughty… Anyway, where is Paul?!

IAN: Missing someone? Don’t worry, Blondie, he should be here soon, he’s just running late. Think you can handle a few minutes without him?

CANDICE: God, I hate you…

KAT: That makes two of us.

IAN: (Looking at Kat) You know there’s a fine line between love and hate (smirks).

KAT: In your dreams.

IAN: Every night, at least twice.

KAT: You are disgusting.

IAN: I know (winks. The Assistant Director walks in).  

STEVEN: Miss. Graham, Mr. Somerhalder, we are ready for you.

KAT: Let’s go.

Cut to – LAPD Headquarters. The Chief of Police is in his office, smoking a cigarette, looking at a photo of a victim who was found brutally murdered the night before. The victim, an aspiring actress who had just landed her first role, a minor part in a high-profile production.

This town… A concrete monument of decay. From the outside it might seem glamourous, with its movie stars and divas, but it’s nothing more than a sewer filled with rats. Nights reek of booze, gun powder, and flesh blood, masked with a cheap imitation of expensive perfume.

Days are no better. The only difference between the two is that during the day, it’s harder for the predators to hide, or so they think. In reality, the true gangsters hide at plain sight. They mock us, thinking they are always one step ahead, always above the law.

But not this time… not this time… (Caresses the victim’s photo, a tear scrolling down his cheek) My sweet Nina… who could have possibly done this to you? And why?

(The song “The Two Of Us” by Mark Isham, plays in the background, as the Detective has flashbacks of the woman and the horrendous murder scene; tears keep rolling down his cheeks).

Cut to – the film set. Kat and Ian are shooting one of their scenes.

 IAN: Don’t go with him… you belong here, with me.

KAT: Please, don’t say those words. You know I want nothing more, but I can’t stay… He is my husband.

IAN: And I am the man you love.

KAT: Always and forever; no matter how far.

IAN: (Kisses her passionately. As she begins to walk away and the rain begins to pour, he runs after her, turns her around) I’m sorry, but I won’t let you go (kisses her again, the song Godot - The Fragrance of Dark Coffee + Rainymood, starts to play. 

The raindrops continue to fall as they hold each other, probably for the last time…)

MATT: And, cut! Beautiful! Now that’s what I call cinema! We are making history people!

KAT: (Ian is still holding on to her). Didn’t you hear cut?!

IAN: No, must have bad hearing… (he smiles; she tries to resist, yet can’t help but smile herself).

MATT: Okay, everyone, let’s take 30 while we prep for the next scene.

KAT: (To Ian) Did you hear that? (Pushes him away) Now, shoo, skedaddle! (She walks away, he follows behind, teasing her).

STEVEN: Mr. Davis, there is a Detective here to see you.

MATT: What? Why?

STEVEN: I think it has something to do with that actress that didn’t show up on set today.

MATT: Which actress, Steven, there are plenty of them around here.

STEVEN: Nina.

MEET: Nina, who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

STEVE: She’s the actress that is playing Miss. Graham’s handmaiden.

MATT: Oh, yes, I think I remember. What about her?

STEVEN: I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to the Detective.

MATT: Fine. Send him my way.

ZACH: (Shows him his badge) Detective Zach Roerig, LAPD, can I ask you some questions?

MATT: Sure, just don’t take too long, we need to keep shooting while we still have the proper lighting.

ZACH: (Takes a picture of Nina out of his pocket and shows it to him) Do you know this woman?

MATT: Barely, she is just an extra with a very small part, we don’t interact. I only work with the stars, so my assistant might be able to give you more insight on her.

ZACH: I’ll talk to him, that’s for sure. But you are the one in charge of this production, correct?

MATT: I am the Director, so yes.

ZACH: Maybe you should pay more attention to your “not so important” cast members as well. Miss. Dobrev was found brutally murdered last night; just one block from here.

MATT: Oh, lord, that is terrible. What happened?

ZACH: Was I not clear? She was murdered, decapitated to be exact. And, we suspect the one responsible for this heinous crime, is part of this little film of yours.

MATT: That’s absurd! No one here would ever do such a thing!

ZACH: You’d be surprised what people are capable of, especially in a town like this. It ain’t all lights and glamour. This is an official investigation, so we are shutting this production down until we get some answers.

MATT: You can’t do that! We are on a schedule.

ZACH: Well, it looks like you’re going to have to make some changes. I need you to call in everyone in the cast and crew, and I mean everyone. No one leaves, until we clear them.

MATT: Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I don’t take orders from anyone.

ZACH: You Hollywood types and your sense of entitlement. You are in for a reality check, no one is above the law. Here is a warrant to search the premises and question every single one of you. So, make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while. I’ll need your office for questioning, while my squad processes the area. I take it you don’t mind. And, to prove I’m not all that bad, I’ll start with you. Lead the way.

Cut to – the Director’s office.

 SUSPECT # 1 – THE DIRECTOR

ZACH: For the record, state your full name.

MATT: Matthew W. Davis.

ZACH: How did you know the victim?

MATT: I told you, I didn’t. Apart from directing the few scenes she has been in, I have never talked to or interacted with her at all.

ZACH: What were your whereabouts last night, from 11pm to 2am?

MATT: I was here, filming. Went home around 3am.

ZACH: (Shows him a note that reads: You were great last night. Keep it up, and you might become a real movie star someday…). Do you know what this is?

MATT: (Looking nervous) Where did you find that?

ZACH: I’m the one that will be asking the questions. Is this your handwriting?

MATT: It is.

ZACH: Can you explain how, and why, this was found in the victim’s purse the night she was murdered?

MATT: I have no idea. That note wasn’t for her.

ZACH: Oh, really? Who was it for, then? And why do you reckon Miss. Dobrev had it with her?

MATT: I can’t tell you who it was for. And, I have absolutely no idea why that woman would have that note.

ZACH: Oh, come on, try harder.

MATT: This is ridiculous, I want my lawyer.

ZACH: You are in your right to request one, but that would only make you more suspicious. So, I would advise otherwise.

MATT: What do you want from me? I already told you everything I know.

ZACH: Who was the note for?

MATT: Okay, okay… it was for Candice.

ZACH: Doesn’t make much sense though, she’s already a movie star…

MATT: She is, but not a diva, like Miss. Graham. That’s what every woman in Hollywood wants. And I am the only one that can give that to them.

ZACH: That’s a lot of power to be in one man’s hands.

MATT: I worked hard for it, trust me.

ZACH: Sure you did… Okay, I’m gonna let you go for now, while we verify your alibi; but trust me, we will talk again.

MATT: Whatever. Can I leave?

ZACH: Yes, and send your assistant in.

SUSPECT # 2 – THE ASSISTANT DIRECTOR

ZACH: For the record, state your full name.

STEVEN: Steven R. McQueen.

ZACH: How do you know Miss. Dobrev?

STEVEN: She is one of the actresses in the film.

ZACH: More like, was…

STEVEN: What?

ZACH: She was murdered last night, about a block from here. Know anything about that?

STEVEN: No, no, of course not. Oh, god, she’s dead?! This can’t be true… How, why?

ZACH: Well, that’s what I want to find out, pal. Think you can help me figure it out?

STEVEN: Whatever I can do to help, you can count on it. Miss. Dobrev was a lovely gal.

ZACH: Were you two close?

STEVEN: Not really. I met her when we started filming. We talked from time to time, but that was about it.

ZACH: Just talk, ha?

STEVEN: Yes, Detective, I swear.

ZACH: I believe you. Look, you seem like a decent guy. I’m sure, if anyone, you are the one that knows what really happens around this set. Help me out? Miss. Dobrev deserves some justice, don’t you think?

STEVEN: Of course. I will tell you everything I know.

ZACH: Good. Why don’t we start with Mr. Davis’s real relationship with the victim…

Cut to – Kat’s dressing room. Kat, Ian, Candice, Paul, and Chris are talking about the situation.

 CANDICE: With all due respect, but who is this Nina person?

KAT: She’s the actress playing my handmaiden.

CANDICE: Oh, her? Well, you can’t really refer to her as an actress, I mean...

CHRIS: She’s a nobody, so who cares.

PAUL: Judging from the Police take-over, something big is going on.  

CANDICE: Why do you care?

PAUL: I’m just saying, it doesn’t look good.

IAN: Well, I agree with Mr. slippery shoes and Cinderella, who cares! We should be shooting, don’t want to lose the good lighting.

KAT: Of course you wouldn’t dare to care about anyone but yourself….

IAN: Really, Kitty Kat? This coming from little Miss me, myself, and I. We all know who you are.

KAT: No you don’t, so stop pretending you do.

PAUL: (Sarcastically) Ouch, bro.

CHRIS: (To Kat and Ian, sounding quite bitter) Can you two stop bickering, for like a second! Gees, just get married already! So freaking obvious…

KAT: Please, he wishes!

IAN: I might like a little pain here and there, but I’m no masochist… unless you ask nicely, of course (winks; the Director walks in). Matt, can you please tell us what the hell is going on!

MATT: We’ve been shut down, until further notice. Oh, and no one can leave either, so make yourselves comfortable.

IAN: What! Why?!

MATT: Well, that wannabe actress playing Kat’s handmaiden was murdered last night. Ruined our entire schedule! The Police think one of us did it… ridiculous!

KAT: Wait, what!? She was murdered? No, no… that can’t be… Oh my god!

CHRIS: And I’ll say it again, why do we care? She is a nobody! Or was, whatever!

KAT: Don’t say that! You have no idea who she was…

CHRIS: Neither do you, Kitty Kat.

IAN: (Pushes Chris away from her)  First, no one calls her that, but me. Second, back off…

CHRIS: (Sarcastic smirk) Oh, please. Don’t you get it? She will never love you. Once she gets what she wants from you, she’ll throw you out like a piece of trash. So stop trying so hard.

IAN: (Grabs him by the neck) Listen, psycho boy…

PAUL: Stop, both of you. Is it too much to ask for you to act like adults, for once? We really don’t need your little pissing contest drama right now.

KAT: Nor any of this… Everyone get out, I need some space.

IAN: (Looking concerned) Kat...

KAT: I said, get out! All of you! (They leave).

Cut to – the Director’s office.

 ZACH: Thank you for your cooperation, this information is critical to our investigation.

STEVEN: (Looking scared) Please, Detective, promise me you won’t tell them you heard those things from me, I would be completely ruined.

ZACH: Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me, trust me. Now, be a sport and send Miss. Accola my way, will you?

STEVEN: Will do, Detective.

ZACH: Thank you, we will talk again soon.

SUSPECT # 3 – THE ACTRESS

ZACH: For the record, state your full name.

CANDICE: (Flirtatious) Detective, you don’t believe I had anything to do with this, do you? I mean, look at me… do you really think I would be capable of such a thing?  

ZACH: Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said, state your full name.

CANDICE: Fine… Candice Rene Accola. But I swear, Detective, I never even crossed a word with that woman.

ZACH: Funny, that’s not what I’ve heard…

CANDICE: From who? Whoever said that is obviously lying! I have a reputation to protect, I don’t mingle with the extras.

ZACH: Oh, I’m sure you don’t, but I wonder if you get jealous of them?

CANDICE: (Laughs) That’s absurd! Why on earth would I be jealous of her!? She’s a nobody.

ZACH: Maybe she had something you wanted…

CANDICE: What could she possibly have had that I don’t? If anything, she was the one jealous of me.

ZACH: I hear you are quite smitten with an ex of hers.

CANDICE: An ex? What are you talking about?

ZACH: Just cut the bullshit Miss. Accola. I know for a fact that Mr. Wesley and Miss. Dobrev where previously engaged, that is until you came into the picture…

CANDICE: (Nervously) Please, Detective, let me explain…

ZACH: Please, do.

CANDICE: It’s not what you think. I mean, yes, I knew they had a thing in the past, but that was a long time ago. They went to the same Highschool, in this godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere, or something along those lines. But, I swear, I never even spoke to her, nor did he, after that. No disrespect for the deceased, but she was weird, she didn’t belong in the same circle as us. There are levels, and she is, well, was, way below ours. If you are looking for a real suspect, I suggest you talk to Mr. Wood, I know there was something going on between those two.

ZACH: Really, why would you say that?

CANDICE: They are both whack jobs. They would get together after shooting; hang out at this weirdo trash bar down the block called “The Grill”, where all the other city looneys hang out. Trust me, they were into some really creepy stuff.

ZACH: What kind of creepy stuff?

CANDICE: Some obscure vampire nonsense. I’m telling you, totally cuckoo.

ZACH: Vampires?

CANDICE: Yes, I swear! If you ask me, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris turned out to be one… I mean, if they were real, of course. Only a crazy person would believe those things.

ZACH: I agree. So, you are saying Miss. Dobrev had a dark side?

CANDICE: Oh, for sure! No one ever bought her little “Mary Sue” act.

ZACH: Well, that’s quite specific information for someone who claims not to know anything about her.

CANDICE: I’m just telling you what I’ve heard from others, specifically, from Mr. Wood.

ZACH: Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on that, for the moment. Now, (hands her the same note he handed the Director) can you explain what this is about?

CANDICE: (Looking genuinely clueless) I have never seen that before, I promise.

ZACH: Fair enough. Moving on, what where your whereabouts last night, from 11pm to 2am?

CANDICE: I was here shooting, until about 3am, I think. I went straight home after that.

ZACH: 3 am? Doesn’t seem like a safe hour for a lady to be driving home alone…

CANDICE: Oh, of course not. I had my driver take me home.

ZACH: What’s your driver’s name?

CANDICE: Mr. Trevino, you can ask him if you don’t believe me. He’s right outside my dressing room.  

ZACH: No need, just yet. You are free to go, for now. Let Mr. Wood know I’m expecting him next.

CANDICE: Sure thing. (As she is walking out) Detective, one more thing… I probably shouldn’t say, since she is my best friend, but I feel obligated to mention this, it’s in my duty to do so. You should know Miss. Graham and Miss. Dobrev used to be very close friends, best friends actually. She doesn’t know I know that, but I do. In fact, Kat is the reason Nina got this job in the first place; and the reason why Nina moved from that Mystic place to LA. Just thought you should know… Hope it’s useful information (flirtatious smirk).  

ZACH: (Flirting back) Very useful, Miss. Accola; thank you for sharing.

Cut to –  Kat’s dressing room. She is looking at herself in the mirror; she seems somewhat sad, but a lot more worried. Ian knocks.

IAN: Kat, please, let me in… I’m sorry… (Kat opens the door, he walks inside, she looks around to make sure there is no one else there; shuts the door after him).

KAT: What do you want? I thought I made myself clear when I said I wanted to be left alone.

IAN: I needed to make sure you were okay (looks around the room) … I didn’t know you knew her outside of the film, I’m sorry if I was insensitive.

KAT: (Goes to her mini bar, serves and hands him a glass of bourbon) It’s just you and me, look for yourself. You can stop pretending now.

IAN: (Relieved) Okay, good… I don’t know how much longer I would be able to keep up with the act.

KAT: As long as it takes; we can’t risk them finding out.

IAN: I know, Kitty Kat, but I’m freaking out here! This place is infested with cops. What the hell are we going to do...?!

KAT: Calm down, we will think about that later… (kisses him passionately, and throws him on to her dressing room bed…)

*Not my art, loads of credit to the creator, this ilustration is awsome!  

TVD 9x15 (part 2) coming soon! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

[purrincess-chat]

The Fall of Rome CH 2 (Final) [REUPLOAD]

I tweaked and fixed the inconsistencies in this one as well as a couple minor things in CH1, so hopefully it’s a bit more coherent now. 

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

It was risky. She knew it was. Plus, there was no guarantee that he’d actually say yes. Revenge wasn’t really her style, but after everything Lila had done…she had to try.

“No, no, I said without nuts, Mr. Stone is very- hang on, oh, Marinette, hi,” Penny said, lowering her phone onto her shoulder. “What can I help you with?”

“Um, I have a school project, and I have to interview someone who inspires me, and I was hoping Jagged would be willing,” Marinette said, holding up a blue folder with a smile.

“Yes, confirm the hair appointment- uh, Marinette, Jagged is kind of booked up today. When do you need to interview him by?” She asked then into her phone said, “be sure the M&Ms don’t have nuts this time.”

“I have to present it by tomorrow,” she said, and Penny tapped her pen on her lip. “3rd period. It’s around 11.”

“Can you do it live? Jagged has a little free time from 11 to 12 tomorrow,” Penny said, and Marinette pressed her lips together to hide her smirk.

“That would be great. Thanks, Penny!” Marinette said with a smile and a wave, but before she headed back up the hall, she paused to retrieve a folded note from her purse. “Um, one more thing…Can you give this to him for me?”

Penny eyed the letter as her phone rang, leaving little time for questions. She snatched the note and offered Marinette a parting smile and nod before shutting the suite door. Marinette clasped her hands behind her back, heading for the elevator with a triumphant smile.  

Step one of her plan was in motion. Now she just needed to focus on not going to far with step two. A lot of her friends were really angry with Lila, and she understood their feelings more than anyone. But it wouldn’t do them any good to humiliate Lila and harden her heart even more. If they wanted to get through to her, they needed to be smart about this.

The following day, Marinette went about business as usual, but as 3rd period drew closer, her nerves flared up with vigor. What if this all went horribly wrong? What if Lila managed to spin it back on her somehow? What if Jagged didn’t show, and she failed her project? She wasn’t sure which question scared her more.

“Yo, Marinette!” Well, she supposed she didn’t have to worry about one of those fears as Jagged approached her in the courtyard. He draped an arm over her shoulders with a wide grin, mussing her hair affectionately. “Inspired by your ol’ Uncle Jagged, are ya? Are you sure I shouldn’t be the one interviewing you?”

“You’re not getting a grade on it,” she giggled. “Thank you for coming. I know you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for my favorite little lady. We can rock out anytime,” he said, leaning down to her level and glancing around. “Now, which one is the troublemaker?”

“Oh, you’ll know her when you see her. She lies with every breath, and she threatened to turn everyone against me,” Marinette said and crossed her arms over her chest. “But she won’t be lying for long. A majority of the class has learned her little secret, and I’m sure once she sees you, she’ll know her little reign is over.” She paused for a moment, pursing her lips before asking, “You don’t think I’m being too mean with all of this, do you?”

“Not in the slightest. If it were me, I’d have called me up to expose her ages ago, and I’d have a crate of snakes delivered to her door. I did that once to a bloke who used me to get into the VIP section at an awards show once, so if you’re in the market, I know a guy,” Jagged said with a shrug. “Some people need to be called out or else they’ll never stop using others.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said as the bell rang, and she took a deep breath. “Well, let’s go hunt the fox, shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

Not wanting to cause a commotion, Marinette instructed Jagged to wait in the hall until it was time for her to present, and she locked eyes with Alya who quirked a brow the moment she entered the room. She gave an affirming nod that brought a smirk to her best friend’s lips as she sat down.

“Okay, class. Today we are presenting our important figures interviews, so who would like to go first?” Mlle. Bustier asked.

“I will.” Marinette’s hand shot up, and Mlle. Bustier’s eyes widened in surprise before a delighted smile curled on her lips.

“Wonderful! Go ahead, Marinette.”

Marinette moved to the front of the room, shooting a pointed glare at Lila as her classmates in the loop leaned in expectantly.

“Well, the person I picked to interview has a very busy schedule, so I didn’t actually find time to interview him outside of class, but he graciously agreed to come today so I could conduct the interview right here,” she said, and several of her classmates grinned in unison as she opened the door to reveal Jagged Stone on the other side.

The room erupted with chatter as Jagged joined her at the front of the room, and Lila slipped down into her seat. Mlle. Bustier clapped her hands to regain order and nodded for Marinette to continue.

“Thank you for coming today, Jagged,” she said with a sweet smile.

“No sweat, Marinette. You’re part of the Stone family now,” he said, and Marinette flicked her gaze over to Lila who glared daggers at her before proceeding.

“Okay, so when did you first decide that you wanted to do music?” Marinette started, focusing on the interview since it was part of her grade. The real show didn’t start until afterward, so she may as well relax and get a good grade.

Jagged was, no doubt, a big hit with the rest of the class. He was such an animated character that Marinette almost forgot why she’d invited him here. Almost.

“One last question,” she said at the end, doing her best not to look up at Lila. “What advice can you give to someone like me?”

“Well, any artistic industry is going to come with challenges, and if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to be careful who you trust. There are a lot of people in the world who are going to feed you pretty stories to make you trust them, but you should never believe people so easily,” he said. “Because a lot of the time, they just want to use you. I’ve been burned many times by record companies, assistants, and even friends. Your support system is vital when you’re starting out and have nothing because those people are going to be the ones cheering you on from the beginning, so be sure that the people in it are truly people with your best interests at heart.”

The class applauded, and Marinette stretched up to hug Jagged. It was showtime.

“Hey, Jagged, can I get a picture with you for my blog?” Alya asked, holding up her phone.

“Yeah, can I get an autograph!”

“Me too!”

Her classmates crowded around him, that is, all save but one. Jagged flicked his gaze to Marinette who gave him a nod.

“I’ve really got to be off, so why don’t we do a group photo?” He said, glancing over everyone until his eyes found Lila still sitting at the back of the room. “Oy, you, what’s your name? Don’t you want to be in the picture?”

“What? You mean you don’t recognize her?” Kim asked with a laugh, and when Lila stiffened, Marinette felt her stomach do a somersault.

“Should I?” He placed his hands on his hips, squinting a little for show. “Wait, have I had you thrown out of my suite before?”

“Lila saved your precious kitten when it got lost on an airport runway before you found out you were allergic, that is. Surely, such a heroic deed wouldn’t be so easily forgotten,” Max said, and Jagged rubbed the back of his head.

“Uh, right, except, ya see, I’ve had Fang a long time. Longer than any of you have been alive. He was my first fan, and he’s been my best friend most of my life,” Jagged said. “I’ve never even owned a kitten. I’m more of a reptile guy.”

Lila’s jaw clenched at everyone’s collective gasp, her shoulders curling when every eye in the room trained on her.

“So then, there’s no way Lila could have saved your kitten,” Alix said with mocking disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Which means that Lila lied?” Nathaniel frowned, and the girl in question glared through Marinette before standing up and racing from the room.

“See what I mean? This happens all the time when you’re famous. People make up all kinds of stories to impress people, but most of them aren’t even true,” Jagged sighed as if it couldn’t be helped. “If there’s any young lady out there who’s saved me, it’s Marinette who kept my image from being ruined by the likes of Bob Roth. She’s my true hero.”

Her cheeks flushed as Jagged wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gestured for everyone to gather around.

“Say Jagged!”

***

The news of Lila’s farce spread fast, and by lunch everyone suddenly remembered how the internet worked and her lies had all been debunked. Marinette should have been happy, especially when all of her friends apologized for doubting her, but she couldn’t shake the pit in her stomach as she pushed food around on her tray.

The whole school knew Lila was a liar now which is what she’d always wanted, but for some reason, she couldn’t quite bring herself to celebrate. She shouldn’t feel guilty because Lila did it to herself. The truth was bound to come out in the end, so why then did Marinette feel so uneasy?

Maybe it was an early phase of food poisoning. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Adrien hadn’t met her eye all day because despite giving his permission, he hadn’t been immensely impressed with the whole debacle they’d arranged. Or maybe in some grand stretch of the imagination, she actually felt sorry for Lila. As horrible as she was, everyone deserved a chance to change, right? To make amends? Of course, she could argue that she’d given Lila that chance on many occasions, but it was different this time. This time, Rome had actually fallen, and Lila had gotten crushed under the bricks.

Sometimes Marinette hated her conscience.

“Adrien,” she said, shrinking a little as he paused rearranging his books in his locker to look over his shoulder. When he saw it was her, he lowered his gaze and turned back.

“Hey, Marinette,” he said, and her heart splintered at his dismissive tone. It was distant and curt. Cold, almost.

“I know you’re probably mad at me for exposing her like that,” she said, and Adrien shook his head.

“I’m not mad,” he said, finally flicking those green eyes up to meet her gaze. “After all, I left the choice in your hands, but I guess in a way I’m just…disappointed.” When she lowered her head, he continued, “I just thought that…if anyone could get through to her and help her, it’d be you, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s best if we just let her live with the consequences.”

“Or maybe we still can,” she said, taking a breath. “I have an idea, but I’ll need your help.”

 An hour later, Marinette rang Lila’s doorbell, her shoulders tense, but this was the right thing to do. At least, she hoped.

“Hello, Mme. Rossi,” she said when Lila’s mother answered the door.

“Oh, goodness, you must be Lila’s school friends,” she said, taking in the large group standing behind Marinette.

“That’s right. We were hoping to have a movie night with Lila,” Marinette explained, and Kim held up their selections.

“How fun! I was just on my way out, so this is perfect timing. Lila gets lonely while I’m at work, and I know she’s very shy and has trouble fitting in. It’s so sweet that you all came to help her feel welcome.” Mme. Rossi placed a hand over her heart. It seemed as though they weren’t the only people Lila lied to, but Marinette wasn’t about to correct her. “Lila! Your friends from school are here, and I’m heading out.”

The girl in question crept out of her room with narrow, skeptical eyes that flicked between each face as if bracing herself for the inevitable ridicule. But it never came.

“Kim brought the movies, and Nino and Ivan got snacks,” Marinette said, but Lila just crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why are you all here?” She asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Because we’re your friends, Lila,” Nino said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right, you guys just came here to rub it in,” she said with a huff, and Marinette glanced at Adrien who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Lila, we came here because we want you to know that you don’t have to lie to us to get us to like you. We want to be friends with you – the real you, if you want,” Marinette said, and her friends all gave nods of agreement. “So, what do you say?”

Lila held her gaze for a long time, searching it for any hint of deceit, but each face only reflected the same warmth. A warmth that, if Marinette had to guess, she wasn’t used to seeing because after a moment, she averted her gaze.

“I don’t get it,” she said, shaking her head. “You should all hate me.”

“Oh, trust me,” Alya said with a laugh. “We did.”

“But Marinette convinced us to give you a second chance because someone who tries so hard to get attention from others must be missing it in their life,” Nino said, draping an arm over Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette is the glue that holds us all together, and she can always bring out the good in others if you let her.”

“It’s true. She’s even made Chloe a bit less unsufferable at times this year,” Nathaniel said.

“We’ll be your friends,” Mylene started.

“On one condition,” Alix said, holding up her index finger.

“No more lies.” It was Adrien who spoke, and he gave her a chiding look.

Lila pursed her lips and shifted her weight. She was quiet for a long time, and Marinette almost expected her to kick them out. But when she flicked those green eyes that had once been so guarded and hostile back at Marinette, they now carried a sense of insecurity and fear as if she wanted to reach out but forgot how to move her arms.

“Fine,” she said, and Marinette’s lips broke into a smile as the class crowded around Lila, piling into an awkward embrace.

Of course, it took a long time for Lila to fully build their trust again, and they took everything she said with a grain of salt for a while. It was to be expected, but over time, Lila relaxed and so did they. Her smiles came more freely. Her laughs were less forced, and as Marinette watched her chatting with Mylene and Alya across the locker room, she couldn’t help but smile. And that was before Adrien approached her.

“You really are a hero, Marinette,” he said, and her spine stiffened.

“I- what? I’m what? You- I’m not a- no.” At his laugh, she realized what he’d meant and that her cover was safe, and she laughed too.

“I don’t suppose you could change Chloe?” He quirked a brow, and Marinette made a face.

“One self-absorbed girl at a time, please,” she said, and Adrien smirked.

“Yeah, I know. She’s gonna take a lot of work, but I bet between the two of us, we can get through to her,” he said, nudging her with his elbow. “I’m really glad you decided to help her. You really are amazing.”

He patted her shoulder before retreating back up the aisle, and Marinette bit her lip hard to ensure she wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t.

Lila had come a long way since she came to their school. She’d learned the hard way that kingdoms built on lies would only crumble, but like any fallen empire, it can be reborn, this time with truth and the help of new friends. Lila found that damage could be mended brick-by-brick if she was just willing to open herself up, and Marinette, for one, was glad to have a new friend instead of an enemy.

[septembersung]

Okay friends, I can’t resist. Here’s what I spent yesterday and today on.

May I present (drumroll): Generations, chapter 1 (new and improved!)

"The first ship launched at twelve noon a whole day ago and nobody even noticed," someone was saying as Anna-Lucia drifted towards consciousness. "No coverage whatsoever, just business as usual. I'm telling you, they don't take it seriously. It's the answer we've been waiting for."

"You're a fool, Kevin, and you always have been." Leah's voice, old but still steady, held that special note of loving judgment that only mothers can summon.

"Mom's right," George grunted gruffly over his brother's protestations. "If the feds are quiet, it's because they're being competent. Not a good sign."

"Come now!" Kevin's exasperation was so potent Anna-Lucia's eyes snapped open. "I can't be the only one to see what a huge chance this is. Another space race, and the private sector is there first! And he who gets there first, makes the rules. Andy? Don't you see what I mean?"

Andrew's recliner creaked in deep protest as he shifted his solid frame. The squeak and protest of that chair reached far back in Anna-Lucia's memory to the dim recesses of childhood. Her racing heart slowed as full consciousness returned, replacing the cramped and lightless dreams through which she had been wandering. Reality flooded back. Her flight had been delayed - endlessly delayed - the crowds were stifling. And that insufferable airport smell! But it was all behind her now. She was home. Anna-Lucia sank a little deeper into the couch, fondly watching the four shadowed figures around the other three sides of the enormous coffee table.

"The Population Committee will be making their own announcement any day now," her father was saying, his slow, rumbling bass filling the little room. "Mark my words. If StarTech has gone public with this technology without fanfare, it's because of court order, and our dearly unelected Pop Comm will be bursting out the seams to show their hand."

"Just so," Leah said approvingly. "Did you see the live feed?" she asked Kevin. He shook his head. "Well, no reason you should, I suppose, being there in person. There are three channels, as you know, and one is always on the launching grounds. But not that day. It was switched, from exactly eleven a.m. to one p.m., to the rover testing site."

"Which means?" Kevin asked wearily.

"What's the fastest way to get the public's attention?"

"Hint of coverup." George's eyes glittered in the low light. "Smart, that, if there is a gag order. Let somebody else do the announcement."

"But it's been more than twenty four hours, and not even a hint in the news. Not even - I mean, not a single channel," Kevin protested.

"And you're sure it was a life ship?" Anna-Lucia heard herself asking. She sat up, raking a tangle of curls out of her eyes, and reached for her cider mug. Of course - it was stone cold by now.

"Welcome back, my dear." Leah smiled at her. "It's nigh time for coffee, now. "Shall I start some?"

"I can do it, Grandma, you don't have to get up."

"Oh, sit still, child, and let me be useful for once." Leah carefully unwrapped from her many layers of blankets, cinched her robe tighter, and shuffled between chairs toward the kitchen. Her sons watched her go carefully, but her progress was confident and steady.

"Of course it wasn't the life ship itself," Kevin continued, as though there had been no interruption. "That had to be assembled in orbit. But it was unmistakably a shuttle service - dozens of shuttles lifted off simultaneously, we're talking hundreds of people, from grannies to babes in arms. And yet not a whisper anywhere. That doesn't say federal order, to me, but top secret private operation."

"But how did they keep the chatter out of the news?" George asked.

"And why in broad daylight?" Anna-Lucia pressed. "If this is a deliberate, flagrant violation of colonization law, why do it in plain sight? They can't possibly think switching the live feed meant it went unnoticed."

Kevin didn't have an answer for that. Silence swept over them like a tide, and even in the dim light Anna-Lucia could see how tired they looked. Birdsong began to filter in.

"It's best we all get a few hours sleep," Andy rumbled at last. "We're none of us young as we used to be, and it's going to be a long week."

Murmurs of agreement came and the three men stood, stretching and slapping each other on the back. Kevin and George moseyed up the stairs, discussing the prospects of fishing later that day. Andy, not a fat man but tall and broad, looked almost too big for the room as he eased his bulk around the coffee table. He laid a wide, callused hand on Anna-Lucia's dark hair. "Morning, honeysuckle," he said, as softly as his deep voice allowed.

She smiled up at him, her first real smile in weeks, and it felt strained and unnatural against her cheeks. "Morning, Dad."

"Bad trip?"

"I've had worse."

"Not like you, to sleep through such talk."

"Traveling is exhuasting. It'll pass."

"Hope so. Clear skies tomorrow."

Anna-Lucia tweaked the heavy curtain behind her head, letting in the chill blue predawn glow. "Tonight, looks like."

"Good weather for star gazing."

Anna-Lucia squeezed her father's hand between her own. "I'll be ready. Get some sleep, Dad."

"'Night, honeysuckle."

When Andy left, Anna-Lucia sank back against the cushions and draped great-great grandmother's blue and white afghan over her, settling into the stillness. Home. For six whole days. It was too good to be true. The week stretched before her in her mind's eye, long, warm days with nothing to do but sit, sleep, listen to her uncles' friendly bickering, and soak in the sun and the fields. She could almost pretend, here at the dawn of this freedom, she was here to stay.

The stillness of the house was balm to her chafed soul after the constant buzz of the city. No roars of trams and cars, no constant hum of voices, no continual opening and shutting of doors, no continuous press of footsteps, no sirens. Stillness, and birdsong.

The familiar little living room, crowded with its couches and rockers and recliners around the ancient, massive oak coffee table, was like an old friend. Anna-Lucia stretched luxuriously and leaned forward to trace the smooth, familiar wood with her hand. It was cool and silky, worn smooth across centuries. The broad surface was stained a dark, rich color. A deep, angular crack ran its length, nearly end to end. It, too, had had been polished to a shine.

When Leah came in with a steaming mug of coffee and her own dainty china cup of tea, Anna-Lucia was still considering the table, its blunt, rounded edges and four thick legs. She took the mug gratefully and scooted back against the broad cushions, arranging the afghan over her knees.

"Aren't you going to bed, Grandma?"

Leah settled herself securely back in her comfortable chair, covered in layers of blankets. "Oh, no. I rarely sleep more than a few hours at night anymore. I do always nap a little in the mid-morning. These are not such unusual hours for me."

"I used to love staying awake in the wee hours. But it's not - not - so restful, in the city. It never really gets dark there. Or quiet."

"You'll be going back?"

Anna-Lucia looked at her coffee. "I don't have much of a choice."

Leah ignored this. "How is it? The work?"

Anna-Lucia hesitated. "Complicated."

"Don't be daft, child. Of course it's complicated."

Anna-Lucia gripped her coffee tightly. "I'm having trouble."

"Lose a lot?"

"Almost all of them."

Leah nodded, unsurprised. "But you went. Knowing what you'd find."

"I didn't exactly have a choice!"

"There is always a choice," her grandmother said sharply. "You could have placed your own happiness, however temporary it would have turned out to be, over the welfare of this family. And you did not. You made the right choice."

The grandfather clock's ticking stitched the silence together. From her couch, Anna-Lucia could only see its side, ornately carved, lined from top to bottom with vines, flowers, and birds. She listened to the steady ticking, closed her eyes, and matched her breaths to it evenly. Three seconds in; three seconds held; three seconds out. Eventually, as the birdsong grew louder, the tension between them began to melt away. Anna-Lucia opened her eyes and saw, with a guilty lurch, that the tension had all been on her part - Leah's face was watching her closely, deeply lined with worry, her bright eyes kind.

"How have things been, Grandma?" she asked, trying for a smile.

"About the same," Leah replied, smiling easily back. "Your father is forever in the fields, checking and logging and walking fences and vidding the managers in the far corners. New hands, this summer," she added, as if in afterthought, and a chill grew in Anna-Lucia's middle. Government men, then. They were being watched.

"How long have Uncle George and Uncle Kevin been in?"

"George two days, Kevin one - he came straight from StarTech, as you heard. And they'll be leaving early, I'm sure."

"Did everyone come with them?"

"Oh, yes. Rachel and Ashlynn came with the kids as soon as they'd wrapped up at summer school."

"I can't imagine a family reunion in flyover country is high on the list of excused absences from their Prep courses."

Leah snorted. "I'm surprised Ashlynn could be talked into coming at all. But don't you dare repeat that."

Anna-Lucia smiled into her coffee. "My lips are sealed. Is anyone else making it?"

"No word yet."

They were quiet a moment, companionably, listening to the now raucous birdsong. Early morning light had begun to filter in around the heavy curtains without her hardly noticing, but now Anna-Lucia was loathe to open them. The private, safe feeling of this hour, in this room, was precious.

Abruptly, she realized that this was Sunday morning. "Grandma, I hardly thought. But what about Fath-"

"Your father can tell you all about his exploits himself, I'm sure," Leah interrupted smoothly. "I doubt he'll sleep long - though he way he works himself, he certainly ought to..."

Leah chattered on for a moment while Anna-Lucia stared at her. Then ever so slightly, Leah pushed her lips together, a thin, warning line.

The illusion of safety shattered like a fumbled egg. They were listening.

Anna-Lucia stood, setting her barely touched coffee to the side, and flung open the curtains, letting the morning in like a waterfall.

[imaginary-portal]

Resistance

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Y/N = your name

Y/L/N = your last name

Masterlist

Enjoy :)

————

You step out onto the London streets, clutching your coat closer for warmth on this rainy day. You can see your breath in the air as you walk to the nearest coffee shop. You step in line and order your usual coffee with a muffin. You walk back outside and down another block to get to work. You work for a British marketing team for Marvel Studios. It is a lot of fun, but you have to keep so many secrets about the job. Anytime you start a new project you sign contracts to keep things underwraps until the company offically releases it. You enter your office building, show your badge to the woman at the front desk, and enter the elevator. When the bell rings for your floor you take in a deep breath to focus your mind for a long day of hard work. You step out the elevator and go into your office. You take off your coat and put it over the back of your chair. You sit down in the chair and log on to your computer. As you take a bite of your muffin, you see out your office window Tom Holland and Zendaya walking with a team of people. Looks like you have guests today.

You don’t even get halfway through your muffin when your boss comes into your office asking you to meet her in the conference room. You bring your coffee with you, alongside your notebook and your pen. You walk to the conference room and see your boss by herself. She looked a wee bit stressed which is out of her norm. “Okay, we have a team of people visiting for some marketing pitches, then in a small group, including you, will vote on the best one. Then you are going to lead the project with a team.” You nod. “Sounds good. Thank you for this opportunity. Where shall I sit?” She points right next to her seat. You place your items down in front of you, and a group of people enter the room. You shake hands and introduce yourself to everyone. In particular, you remember the third to last person. “Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You shook the handsome gentleman’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Tom Hiddleston.”

Everyone gets settled and your boss starts the meeting. Everybody runs their pitches and you take vigorous notes. The fourth pitch was your favorite so you put a star next to it. When the meeting ended, everyone left except your boss, Tom Hiddleston, his manager, two of your boss’s assistants, and you. Your boss starts the conversation. “Okay, Mr. Hiddleston. I would like you to speak first. What are your thoughts?” Tom speaks about how he favors the second pitch, given how well he knows his character, Loki, this pitch best sets up the kind of path he wants to see for him. You couldn’t help but notice how when he speaks he often adjusts his glasses and plays with his beard. “Thank you, Mr. Hiddleston. Next, Ms. Y/L/N. What do you think?” You sit up a little more straight. “Well, while I think the second pitch is interesting, I believe the fourth pitch is the most logical, given the kind of work our team is going to have to put into this project, it is the most plausible and the most likely to attract the broadest audience.” Tom and his manager take a short moment to talk separate from the group. The manager uses a notebook to cover their faces. You look at your boss, who gives you a thumbs up. You don’t know how to feel about that. “Okay.” His manager says. “We’ll settle for the fourth pitch, so long as we can tweak it a smidge to meet Mr. Hiddleston’s requests.” You click your pen. “All right, let’s see what we can do for you. What requests might you have?” Then Tom starts listing them. They were all pretty small and simple things so you or your boss didn’t have to shut any of them down. His most important request was that he could be more involved in this project than he usually is. Your boss would have to consult her boss to make sure that was okay, but she said she has confidence they will let him join the team as he pleases. During the conversation, you and Tom made frequent eye contact because you two did most of the talking. After the meeting ended, Tom and you shook hands again. You said “Thank you for coming today, I am excited to work with you on this project.” He smiled. “Thank you making room in your schedule to do this. I am excited as well.”

A few weeks went by and you planned out the project almost entirely. It was now ready for execution. You contacted Tom’s manager to tell him that the project is ready to begin and Tom is welcome to join whenever he can. After the project was started for three days Tom paid a visit. The team and you were stuck, arguing over how to do something. It was great to have a fresh pair of eyes to give an opinion. Tom ended up siding with the option you were siding with, and that ended the dispute. You then split into subgroups. Your group consisted solely of Tom and you, and that was by chance because everyone chose their groups. Anyway, it was good to catch him up to speed on things. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N. You’re doing a very good job.” You smile. “Thank you, but it is a group effort, I am just the leader.” You flip through some papers on your desk. Tom steps closer to your desk and speaks in a lower tone. “Well what happens if something were to go wrong? Who is likely to get the most blame?” You mouth ‘me’ without looking up from the papers. “Exactly, so then if things are going well, you should get the most credit as well.” You shrug. Tom laughs, which causes you to look up at him. You noticed the glimmer in his eyes when he laughed. “You can’t take a compliment, can you?” You huffed out a laugh. “I guess not. There are always things to improve on.” You go back to your papers. “I appreciate that you are interested in some of the behind-the-scenes work. It’s not something you see everyday.” You put the papers in a stack and look up at Tom. He smiles. “Yeah, I like to be involved with my character, and this project makes a big impact on his future.” He adjusts his glasses. You take in his presence for a moment. He stood with perfect posture, looking all fine and sophisticated. Your phone rings, breaking you from your unprofessional trance. You answer the call. It was your boss, asking you to do something for her after your lunch. You write it down on a sticky note and end the call. The call reminded you that you can take your lunch break now. You get up from your chair and grab your coat. “Lunch time.” Is all you say. You grab your set of keys and your wallet. “Y/N, shall we have lunch together?” Tom asks. You look up, surprised like a deer in headlights. “Uh, sure. Why not?” You smile, hoping to soften your impression on him.

After you clock out, the two of you leave the office and enter the elevator. Things get quiet for a moment. Your heart races a little. “Do you have a place in mind?” You ask. Tom shakes his head. “No I do not. Do you?” You nod. “There’s this place on the corner, it has good lunch food. But if you don’t want to go there we don’t have to...” Tom interrupts you. “No, we can go there.” The elevator dings and you exit the building and off into the streets. You walk to the restaurant on the corner. You get a table and order drinks. You both searched the menus for a meal. Once you ordered you got to talking. You talk about your hometowns and your jobs. The food arrives and you get to eating. Tom liked the food which was a relief. Towards the end of the meal, Tom says “Y/N, you’re a career woman, huh?” You smile. “Yeah, I guess I am. It must be really obvious.” Tom shakes his head. “But that’s a very good thing. I admire that very much.” You blush and look down. “Well thank you. I also admire your work ethic.” You look up and you and Tom both smile at each other. Tom reaches over the table and puts his hand on yours. You feel the warmth of his hand for a few seconds but then you pull your hand away. “Um, I’m sorry Tom.” You frown. “No. I’m sorry Y/N, I overstepped.” The waiter comes and gives you the check. You take out your wallet. “I can cover it.” Tom offers. “No, it’s okay I got it.” Tom gently takes the check out of your hands. “I’m sorry, but I insist.” You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. When Tom finishes with the check, you get ready to leave. While on your walk back to the office, you apologize to Tom again. “I’m sorry about that, in the restaurant. It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just not the right time.” Tom accepts your apology, but doesn’t make eye contact with you.

Working in the office with Tom got real awkward after that lunch flop. You tried collaborating with others on the project, but you still had to work with Tom. You were all flustered and you still felt guilty for pulling your hand away. Thus, communication amongst the group became increasingly difficult, and you had to make everyone break for the day to recompose yourselves for tomorrow. You felt bad because you kind of scorned the entire group, and ended another half hours worth of potential work, and it was mainly your fault because you were distracted. You left to go to your office. One assistant got you a cup of coffee and you took a breather. You got a knock at the door, and you looked up. It was Tom. You could tell he was being extra careful, as if he was walking on eggshells. “May I come in?” You say yes, and Tom enters. He takes a chair and pulls it over to your side of the desk. You had your elbows on the table to prop your head up. You were massaging your forehead. You weren’t quite near tears, but you were visibly stressed. “Y/N, what is wrong?” Tom whispers. You let out a deep breath. “I’m just trying so hard to focus right now.” You hear Tom swallow a lump in his throat. “Y/N, is it because of me? I didn’t mean for this to happen.” You shrug. “I don’t know.” Tom puts a hand on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine. You move your shoulder back so his hand slides off. “Y/N, do you want to know what I think?” You ask him what. He replies “I think you are a sucessful and talented person, and so much that I think you should cut yourself a break and stop resisting to something you may want.” He pries your hands off your forehead and holds them in his. You had no choice but to look into his blue eyes now. “I think that if I can read body language correctly, you’re interested in me. I think you should give me a chance, Y/N. I think you have already gotten yourself so far in life that you should reward yourself, and let someone special reward you too. Y/N, I will be that special someone, if you let me.” Your heart melted from his kind words. “Okay.” You say after a few seconds. “I’ll stop resisting so much. I’ll give us a try.” Tom cracks a smile and you smile back. Tom wraps his hand around the back of your neck and presses your forehead onto his. You got extreme butterflies in your stomach. You felt his breath on top of your lips. Tom leans in closer and kisses you, short and sweet. Your hands cupped his cheeks, finally getting to feel the texture of that attractive beard.

[griffinxwoods]

stuck 

clarke and lexa are snowed in at raven and anya’s holiday/housewarming party

i wanted to finish this for clexa week but, life happens, and i wasn’t able to so here’s a snippet, the beginning really, and if you guys like it, i’ll wrap it up soon and post it to ao3. but i figured something is better than nothing, even if i think it’s pretty rough so, here you go. also, a rough attempt at a moodboard. nevertheless, enjoy! 

_____________________________________________________________________

It’s almost over. Technically she’s halfway to the finish line. But it’s almost over.

Finals week is upon them.

Clarke has a few sketches to finish for her portfolio, her finals project only has a few tweaks to be done, and then she can finally relax for winter break. She can worry about her last official university semester once the new year rolls around.

Tonight, though, Raven wanted to have a group study session at Clarke and Lexa’s apartment. it’s a nice change from the stuffy Arkadia library, at least Clarke can sketch on her couch instead of those hard, wooden chairs, oddly always warm.

The crew’s scattered around her apartment, Octavia and Lincoln are sitting at the kitchen island, going through flashcards for Lincoln’s psych exam. Bellamy has taken to the recliner, flipping through the pages of his latest history read. He graduated years ago yet, he still hangs around. Nerd. Jasper and Maya are sat at one end of the dining table, there’s less studying and more of Jasper goofing around, but poor Maya has a highlighter in her mouth and about 3 other different colored highlighters in each hand, going through her bio notes. Pre-med is rough and Clarke feels for her. Monty is next to them, fiddling with a broken car radio he’s trying to fix for Miller. Raven and Anya are at the opposite end, Raven seemed to have wrapped up her studies early and somehow dug out Clarke’s old toaster and opened it up, rewiring it. Anya’s just eating some nuggets.

Clarke’s stomach grumbles. Hmm, not a bad idea. She moves to get up from the coach when Lexa appears, plate of nuggets in hand.

Clarke beams up at her, “how’d you know?”

Lexa shrugs, “You’ve been sketching for a while, figured you’d want some fuel.” She flops down next to Clarke and pulls up the Twitter app on her phone.

Clarke pulls her in for a kiss, slow and tender. She caresses Lexa’s face and Lexa pulls back, rubs her nose against Clarke’s, moving her head to the other side. It’s sweet and slow, perfect.

Clarke leans back and looks at Lexa through her eyelashes, “Thanks, baby.”

Lexa’s lips curl up a bit on one side, that sweet smile reserved only for Clarke. She reaches for Clarke’s hand and rubs her thumb over Clarke’s.

BANG.

“Attention, everyone!” Raven yells. “Hear ye, hear ye, I have an announcement before we wrap up this lovely hellish study session.”

Everyone jumped in their places at the crash, but they gather closer nonetheless. Raven smashed Clarke’s old toaster on the ground. Sigh, typical. Dramatic, as usual.

“Anya and I are throwing a housewarming party,” Raven beams.

“Does that mean we have to buy you gifts for being an adult,” Lexa scrunches her face, she grabs a nugget and pops it into her mouth.

Raven tilts her head to the side and feigns a smile, “Yes. Why ever the fuck else would I be hosting a party when you and Clarke have a perfectly furnished apartment.” she waves her hand in the general direction of everything they have, then points at the kitchen, “a fucking Nespresso machine, Clarke. You guys are boujee and I want in on it.”

“Raven,” Clarke sighs.

“Help me, I’m poor,” Raven pouts and bats her eyelashes.

Lexa stifles a laugh, “Might as well make a, like, baby registry for your apartment, ya know”. She pauses and looks at Clarke, “Is that a thing? Did we do that?”

She pats Lexa’s arm and sighs, “Yeah babe, it’s a thing. Technically.”

“Lexa, you beautiful dumbass, te quiero tanto” she practically launches herself across the table to grab Lexa’s face and plant a quick rough kiss on her lips. “I’m gonna sign up for that and send you all the link. I want a blender. And a microwave. And those smart light bulbs. God, they’re so fucking expensive, I don’t understand why. Gonna need Ms. Amazon Alexa too so I can connect that. I wanna speak to her. Our own smart house, how zesty of us. Oh! A fridge, need that too but the one you tweet on! That’s so boujee, I love it- ”

Lexa’s stunned, really didn’t expect that one. Clarke plopped back against her seat and lets out an exhausted breath. She’s used to Raven’s antics, of course, but tonight she just wants to finish her sketch and cuddle with Lexa. They’ve been here for hours, she’s tired and she has an early class in the morning. She picks up a pencil and continues to work, letting the conversation idle into background noise.

Her peace only lasts a few seconds.

Jasper mischievously snatches a sheet of paper and crumples it up, throws the ball at Lexa, and laughs, “She won’t shut up and it’s your fault, Woods.”

Lexa snatches a fat eraser out of Clarke’s hand and launches it at Jasper’s face, pure reflex.

Clarke gives up, her efforts futile, she snaps her sketchbook closed and groans.

“Fuck! Ow, what the fuck, Lex?”

“If you so much as look at me wrong, I will Spartan kick you off my balcony, you failed abortion. Capice?”

Clarke snaps her head towards Lexa, trying and failing to controller her laughter, and smacks Lexa lightly on the arm, “Lexa, no.”

“What? He’s annoying.”

“He’s our friend, remember. Be nice.”

“I’ve never claimed him. He’s your friend.”

“Everything that’s mine is yours, sweetheart,” Clarke singsongs and boops her on the nose.

Lexa tries to bite Clarke’s finger and falls short, her eyes narrow on her girlfriend, “Pick your battles, Griffin”

“HELLOOOO!” Raven bangs on the table abruptly. Everyone stops. “We were talking about me.”

Anya’s exasperated at this point. She only decided to come over for the free food and now she has to deal with this? She checks her watch, wondering when would be a good time to drag Raven out of her before she rips someone’s head off for suggesting teal accents when her apartment theme is planned to be black and gold. Seems trivial to Anya but, she knows Raven well enough by now.

Lexa blinks, “Oh? I-”

“Can you not? Thanks. Anyway, back to me now.”

Lexa throws her hands up, defeated, “Why am I in trouble when that sorry excuse for a man physically attacked me. In my own home! I’m a victim.” Lexa narrows at him, “the white man wins again.”

“Hey!” Jasper protests.”I was just-”

Raven lowers her voice and glares at Jasper, he gulps. “I will tie you to a chair and set your three mustache hairs on fire one by one. I know how long you’ve tried to grow that out, you’ve gotten attached to them, little man. Do not test me.”

Octavia grins, “This is getting good. Shall I make popcorn?”

Jasper slouches back into himself. Maya gives him a soft kiss on his cheek and a soft smile, and Monty puts him in a headlock and tousles his hair playfully, “You’ll be fine, buddy.”

Anya pinches the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed. She checks her watch again, looks around the room. Good enough. She raises herself out of her seat and steps towards Raven, an arm snaking around Raven’s neck.

“Alright Reyes, that’s enough. We get it, we’re poor, we need house stuff, and you’re becoming a dictator.”

“The Castros are shaking right now,” Lexa smirks.

Raven snorts, “Ha, noice.” They high five and Clarke and Anya share a look, both rolling their eyes.

“Okaaaay” Anya drawls, she detaches from Raven and grabs her hand as they make their way to the door, “So we’re gonna go. This was nice until crackhead Martha Stewart here took over.”

Raven pauses, a little insulted but nonetheless, she continues, “I want the fridge that can tweet, Anya.”

“I know baby,” Anya sighs, dragging Raven along.

“It’s essential. It’s the future. Technology, it revolves around us, you know.”

“I really don’t even know what you’re saying anymore.”

Lexa waves from her seat, grinning, and turns to Clarke, “We’re not getting the fridge.”

Clarke hums absentmindedly, “Absolutely not.” She really doesn’t care anymore, though. She just wants to go to bed with Lexa. She rubs her hands down her face, crosses her arms and yawns.

Lexa watches her, noticing the drooping eyelids, sketchbook closed in front of her. She stands and clasps her hands together.

“Okay putas, time to go. Pick up your shit and get outta here, it’s beddy-bye. Clarke looks like she’s going to knock out on this couch and I’d rather not carry her to bed so, let’s move on out.” She ushers everyone up and out, herds them towards the door like a shepherd gathering stray sheep into a barn. Or out, rather.

They all protest on their way out, but appreciate the eviction considering how late it’s gotten and no one noticed.

“Thanks for the food, Lex. I’ll see you on the field tomorrow, right?” Lincoln hugs her and gives her a sharp look. She’s on her vacation and he knows how quickly she can fall into a lazy spiral if she lets herself.

Lexa grunts, “But it’s supposed to snow.”

Lincoln gives her a sharp look and she concedes, nodding in agreement.

They all file out, waving goodbye, and piling into their cars. Lexa closes the door, locks it and leans against it, letting out a sigh of relief.

“It’s quiet,” Lexa breathes.

“Lex. Bed,” Clarke whispers. She’s waiting in the bedroom doorway, hand reaching out towards Lexa. She strides over and slips her hand into Clarke’s, placing a tender kiss to her lips. Clarke hums and her lips curl into a smile on one side, similar to one of Lexa’s.

They fall into bed, a tangle of limbs, soft kisses on smooth skin, breaths evening out.

Clarke curls deeper into Lexa’s warmth and not a minute later, drifts off.

[looselucy]

Up the Junction

November 11th Harry had appeared at my home before 8AM even hit, smirking, shirt undone, only stood in my doorway for a matter of seconds before I’d dragged him inside.

I was now running ten minutes late for work. I might have owned the shop, and it may have been a Sunday, but I’d told Louis I’d be there at 9 and it was only a matter of time before he came banging on my door, likely predicting I’d slept in. I was otherwise occupied. “Harry, I need to go.” I panted, feeling his tongue brush against my nipple. “M’close.” He whispered. “M’so close, gimme a few more minutes.” “I swear, Louis is gunna storm in here any second now, oh my god you feel so good. Don’t stop.” “Make your mind up.” “Please don’t stop.” After a brief snigger, his lips were back around my nipple, my hands back in his hair, my mind back on the movements he made rather than the fact I was supposed to be working. We’d definitely been making the most of our arrangement. There hadn’t been a day since our official agreement that I hadn’t seen him; before work, after work, through the night, whenever we could. There had been a few occasions where I had stayed at his place, or him at mine, just so we could do it until the very last minutes of our days and then the very first minutes of the following. We were getting into this pattern where being with one another was almost constant, all our free time committed to one another. We kept things simple, playful, fun, and the more time we spent with one another, I felt like we were getting much better at covering the tracks of what we were doing. I’d stopped acting so strange and on edge, even my lying abilities must have been improving by the day. Yet holding such a large secret made me want to share others. I knew I was ready to talk to Louis. And it seemed, Louis was ready to talk to me. There was a loud knock on the door, quickly followed by the sounds of the handle rattling, the man himself trying to get inside. Thankfully, I’d remembered to lock the door behind us. “ALFIE, IT’S ME! ARE YOU ASLEEP? YOU’RE LATE, C’MON!” I was about to yell back, but Harry stopped me, rushing to put his lips back on mine, silencing my attempts at calling out to him. “Harry!” I groaned, trying to wriggle my head free. “Don’t reply.” He gasped, moving more ferociously. “Let him think you’re asleep. If you reply now, he’s gunna notice you’re breathless, it’s gunna make you obvious. Don’t answer.” “Fuck, you’re right, fuck, okay you’re gunna have to cover my mouth, because I’m about to cum.” He did as he was told, his lips twitching upwards as he watched over my face, dulling my moans as much as he possibly could. Louis started knocking again. “ALFIE, WAKE UP! C’mon, we’re gunna be busy today. Hellooooo? You’re fast asleep, aren’t you? I’m gunna ring you. I don’t know why I’m still talking.” Harry covering my mouth with his ridiculously large hand was helpful to cover both my moans and my laughter, Harry trying to shush me as I came, but he still hadn’t finished. My phone started ringing. Still working into me, he leant down to the ground to retrieve it for me, dropping it lightly onto my chest as he pushed upwards, positioning my leg on my behalf so that it was up against his body, my foot lingering beside his head. “I can’t answer when you’re doing this to me.” I cried. “Then don’t.” “Just… chill, for one second.” I scrambled to pick up my phone and answered just before it cut off, and thankfully my voice could be confused to match with someone who had just woken up, but even so, I kept it short. “Hi!” “Alfie, I’m outside your door. It’s past nine!” “Shit, really? I just woke up.” I lied, hopefully sounding convincing. “Yeah, c’mon! I know it’s Sunday, but you said that there’s summat going on or summat, and we should be busy. I dunno, I forgot what you said. But hurry up!” “Okay, just… go grab breakfast at PJ’s and I’ll ring you when I’m ready.” “Alright. Don’t fall asleep again!” “Okay bye!” I hung up as soon as I could, double checking the line had definitely cut before freeing the moan I’d been hiding, my phone tumbling back down to the bed, clutching at the headboard and lifting my other leg to balance over his other shoulder, Harry pushing his weight against me for his final few thrusts, the morning sun lighting his face quite marvellously as he unravelled, cursing to himself, rigid for just a few moments before he became completely limp, my legs the only thing stopping his body from crushing down on top of mine. I chuckled, trying to push my legs and failing. I watched him in that beautiful post-sex state for a while before I spoke. “You’re surprisingly heavy.” I told him. “It’s all my muscles.” He tried to say that seriously, but the tiny smile on his lips gave him away. “Fuck off, you idiot. Get off me, I need a shower.” “Can’t… move…” He croaked. I gathered as much strength as I could and practically kicked him off me, rushing to my bathroom to jump in the shower and get to the shop floor as soon as possible. I really hoped that Louis wasn’t too suspicious. I was a morning person, I always had been! It wasn’t like me to be running so late, to have slept in and not even heard him knocking. I knew it wasn’t likely that would lead him to suspicions and to predict the scenario between me and Harry, but I was slightly paranoid. I showered quickly, the tips of my hair getting a little damp in the process no matter how I’d tried to avoid it, and then I was done, drying myself in seconds before leaving to get dressed. Harry was still laying on my bed when I practically fell out of my bathroom, tying my hair into a tight bun, rushing to get out of there as soon as possible. “You wanna come round to mine tonight?” He asked, slouched right down in my bed like he had no plans of moving, resting his head against the palms of his hands which were pressed against the back of his head. “Uh… Sure, yeah. I’m uh….” I was frantically looking some suitable clothes. “I’m not opening the shop up tomorrow either. Shall I stay?” “Sure.” “Good. Okay, are you gunna get up and get dressed? I’m in a rush.” “I’ll let myself out, don’t worry about me.” “Not a chance.” I sniggered. “Don’t want you snooping around my flat whilst I’m not here.” “Don’t you trust me?” One of his brows tweaked, just slightly. “You got something to hide?” I stopped what I was doing, stood at the foot of my bed watching him with my hands on my hips and a sneer on my lips. “Would you trust me wandering about in your house on my own?” “Touché.” I knew for a fact that Harry had something to hide, whether he would vocally admit that or not. My nose hadn’t gotten the better of me, meaning I hadn’t asked nor gone routing around his home when he was none the wiser, but there was a part of me that as quietly aware of the hidden rooms of his home. It was the one downstairs he seemed more sensitive about from what I’d gathered; around a week earlier, he’d asked specifically that I not go into that room, whatever it was. I figured it was an extension, maybe a conservatory, but other than that I was none the wiser. Thankfully, I had no intentions or temptations when it came to breaking his trust just to find out what a simple room was, it didn’t interest me enough. I was just aware of it. There was definitely nothing in my place I thought he could stumble across that I wouldn’t want him to, and it certainly wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but we weren’t quite at that stage. “C’mon, get up, let’s go!” Whilst groaning, he complied, getting up off my bed and getting dressed with quite some speed. It wasn’t long before we were out the door, darting down the stairs with Harry just behind me. “Time do you reckon you’ll get to mine?” “Dunno. Hopefully not late, we won’t stay open too long today.” “Gimme a rough idea.” “Like… five?” “Sick.” The winds were alarmingly cold when we got outside, but other than that the weather was exceptionally uninteresting, blank skies that hung lifeless above our heads. I locked the door, Harry lingering by my side. “Since when did you have a car?” He asked, looking at the battered blue beetle that was back on the gravel driveway behind my home.  “Since forever, but she always breaks down so, she’s been missing for a while. She’s as good as new now though!” “And when’s new for her? Nineteen-sixty-six?” He mocked. “Something like that.” I smiled. “Now fuck off. Don’t let anyone see you. Be smart. Be vigilant.” I began edging my way towards the road, only to be stopped a second later, Harry grabbing my hand and yanking me back to him, kissing me hard for just a few heavenly seconds. “I’ll see you tonight.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “You will.” I whispered back. We shared one final, brisk kiss, and then I was edging around to the front of my shop, checking over my shoulder as I went, looking down the road to make sure no one had seen us. The second I’d walked onto the main road, still not looking where I was going, I smacked right into Louis. “ARGH, FUCK! What the fuck, Louis?” “Watch where you’re walking!” He laughed. “I thought you were at PJ’s?” “I got a bacon butty to go.” He lifted it up proudly. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” “I’m not the one walking forward but looking backwards, to be fair.” “Let’s get inside, c’mon!” Whilst unlocking the door, I checked over my shoulder again, making sure that Harry hadn’t been following me around the corner, but I couldn’t see him. I figured we were safe. We let ourselves inside, turning the lights on and beginning the minor bits of prep work needed before we could open to the public, with me occasionally and manically glancing out of the window to make sure Harry wasn’t in sight. Once I felt relaxed, I went around the counter, checking over the till, watching Louis reorganising the shelves. “Sorry I slept in.” My apology sounded genuine enough, probably because I was feeling guilty for running so late. “No worries. Weird though, you’re usually really good in the morning.” “Mm.” I watched him working as I flicked through the money we had made the day before, suddenly feeling pretty low. I didn’t like lying to Louis, or rather withholding the truth. It wasn’t about the Harry thing, but more the other things that had been going on that I’d decided not to share. I finally felt like I was ready to talk, and Louis was the person I wanted to talk to. “Before we open, can I talk to you for a second?” I requested. “Of course. Is everything alright?” I instantaneously had his attention, abandoning the wine he’d been shelving and walking straight to me, immediate proof of how much he cared about me. “It… It’s about Sam. About why he left.” “Okay…” “A few days before he went… he came around to see me. Well, he turned up, drunk out of his mind in the middle of the night.” “Right?” I could tell from the look on Louis’ face that he had no idea what I was about to say, what had happened between us, and I couldn’t blame him because I’d have never said before that night that Sam would be capable of what he’d done, that he’d be violent at all. He’d lost his temper before, yelled, but nothing like that night. He’d never even been in a fight before. It was so out of character for the boy that we’d both known for so many years, that even with my low tone as I began the tale, my rigid aura, Louis couldn’t sense what was about to come. “He was banging on my door and… as soon as I opened, he just pushed in and started kissing me. But I didn’t want that! I didn’t wanna kiss him, I didn’t want him there! So I pushed him away and I asked him to stop but he just got so angry.” “Are you joking?” His face was low, clearly unable to comprehend what he was hearing. “What happened? Did he stop? What happened?” I had tears in my eyes, wanting to rush to the end of the story so Louis didn’t have to spend any time thinking the worst, which he clearly was then. It was only in that moment that I realised that it was possible Harry thought things might have escalated more than they actually had. It seemed I needed to speak to him too. “He got so aggressive. It was so strange, it was like… Like I didn’t even know him. He backed me up against the wall, grabbed my face. I hate even admitting it, but he hurt me. Scared me. He blatantly wasn’t in his right mind, but he snapped out of it pretty quickly. He was clearly shook up… kinda startled by what he’d done. I asked him to leave and eventually, he did. But… I didn’t think he’d leave here altogether, but I know that’s why he’s gone. That’s why he left Rosebury.” “Fuck. What the fuck? Are you okay?” “I’m fine, it wasn’t too bad. Just scary. Upsetting.” “Have you told anyone?” “No.” “Alfie-” “It’s fine! Harry… kinda knows, and he’s giving me extra lessons. He doesn’t know the full details but he has a good idea. I didn’t wanna say anything though because it’s Sam, y’know? I know our relationship had been shit for a while, but I still trusted him! It’s harder… to come to terms with it, when someone you love hurts you. It’s stupid, but it’s like… I still wanted to protect him. I couldn’t stand the thought of everyone hating him. I think he hates himself enough.” He grabbed hold of my hand, squeezing tightly, nodding, and showing that he understood even if it did seem completely unreasonable that I’d have sympathy for him after everything. He bit his lips, trying to find the words. “I don’t think he’s a nice man, is he?” He mumbled. “Not deep down. I didn’t expect that but… I dunno. I don’t think he's a good human being, at his core.” “I don’t either.” I agreed. “I… understand you not wanting to talk about it, and I get the empathy. But don’t have any sympathy for that prick, he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. Let him throw a fit and fuck off. Y’know he probably only did that thinking you’d miss him? That’s what we all think anyway.” “Really?” “Yeah! He’ll have done it thinking he’ll come back one day and you’ll have missed him so much that you’ll forgive him and he'll get you back. He’s actively seeking your sympathy. Don’t give it to him. He can pretend he’s off somewhere reflecting and becoming this better person, but don’t let him fool you.” He squeezed my hand even tighter, confident and vehement in the way he spoke his following words. “Don’t let him bully you into feeling the way he thinks you should, because he did that for too fucking long.”

Harry had text me letting me know his door was open, but that didn’t make it feel any less strange just letting myself into his home like I owned the damn place. I heard the sounds of the TV, which dragged me right into the living room, a place I hadn’t spent much time at all, seeing Harry sat there topless, flicking through channels, the log fire glowing low in the corner. “Here she is!” He practically cheered once he’d spotted me. “Hey.” I greeted, walking straight over to him. “I brought food!” “You fucking legend!” He sat up, making grabby hands. “What’re we on?” “I got Chinese. A mix of things.” “What a woman.” He leapt to his feet. “I’ll go get some plates.” I sat myself down on the sofa Harry hadn’t occupied, unloading the mountains of food I had purchased out of the weak plastic bag I believed had only been seconds away from snapping, Harry appearing again in no time with plates and cutlery. “Thanks.” I said, grabbing them off him and passing him some food. “How was work?” “Uh, yeah, good! Busy, like we thought, so that’s good.” “It’s impressive, you owning a shop like that at your age. It’s sick.” He sat down with a thud, beginning to tuck into his meal. “Well… it was passed down to me by my parents so… Yeah. It’s not really impressive, it was given to me.” “But you run it.” He shrugged, a dumpling in his hand. “You own it and you run it, pretty much by yourself. It is impressive.” “Mm. Well, thanks.” I wanted to move the conversation along quickly. It was strange enough that we were doing that, sitting down and eating together and just talking, never mind that the topic of my parents had come up so bloody quickly. I didn’t want to get upset and emotional, because our current scenario was already a little more personal than I was used to. But I liked it. I liked that I hadn’t arrived and gone straight up to his bedroom, like we usually did. It had been easy to forget how well the two of us had got on since our arrangement was agreed, so it was nice to just sit with him and talk one on one for the first time in weeks without sex being the main focus. “How’s your day been?” I asked. “Pretty uninteresting, to be honest.” “Do you get bored? Only working like… one evening a week?” “I keep myself occupied.” He answered after swallowing. We sat watching tele for a while, talking freely, playful and mundane. For a while, I simply existed within his space rather than within a reality we’d evolved around one another. I was in his environment, watching him exist in a way he would even if I wasn’t there. It was interesting, in a way. It was new. Once we’d finished our food, we still didn’t seem to be in any rush to get upstairs, which I was thankful for, to be honest. I figured it was a good time to talk. “I spoke with Louis today.” I began rather unnervingly, Harry turning his head to see me clearly. “About… what happened with Sam.” He took a deep breath in before hutching himself upwards just a little, turning the volume on the TV down slightly. “That’s a good thing, right?” “Yeah, I think so. It is, I mean… It felt good to finally talk about it. You were kinda… the only person who really knew about it, before today. And I just wanted to let you know that… what I told you and… what we did in your class that day… re-enacting it… that was the extent of it. I didn’t want you thinking it was worse than that, because it wasn’t.” “Okay. That’s good to know. I kinda thought it might have been the extent, just from how you dealt with it and how you were afterwards, but I’m glad I know for sure. And, for the record, I still think he’s fucking scum.” “Yeah,” I chuckled. “Me too. I’m glad you didn’t think it was worse. How… How could you tell?” “You seemed really… open, even if you were quiet. Like you told me everything without… really having to say anything. I dunno if that even makes sense.” I made myself comfortable, laying down with my arm on the rest, propping my head up with my hand, and he soon mirrored my actions, the two of us staring right at each other. “I think it does.” My voice was quiet. “You had the guts to be honest with me, in your way. In a way that made you comfortable. It didn’t feel like you were… lying, or… withholding anything. Just felt like you were telling me in your own way. I understood that. I heard you.” I smiled, nodding, realising once again that Harry was rather wonderful. I believed it was something he’d seen before, probably numerous times. He’d been running classes for women for a long time, as far as I’d gathered, and I imagined he’d experienced similar before, women talking to him in riddles and wrecked sentences that he had to disentangle himself. But I acknowledged then, for the first time, the possibility that there was a connection between us, one that was quite obviously sexual, but maybe delved a little deeper than we’d been able to initially apprehend. Because those kinds of connections do usually come at a price, or with additional bonds that are hidden at first, but lethal. When you connect with someone, it’s rare that it’s limited to one feeling. That was why I’d been worried about our situation. Looking into his eyes then, I didn’t feel like I had any reason to worry.

November 12th Even November couldn’t stop the sun from pouring into Harry’s bedroom, as bright as a summers day, drowning the room with shadows that bounced off his plants and rays that seemed to be sinking into the walls. Harry didn’t have curtains in his room, meaning the bright morning would always wake me at a reasonable time, and that morning was no different. I opened my eyes rather slowly, instantly seeing that Harry was still fast asleep at my side, mouth open just a touch, one hand on his chest, his breathing heavy. I was growing strangely accustom to waking up next to him. He always seemed so peaceful, like at each moment he was in the deepest stage if sleep possible, dragged so far away from reality that all he knew was the harmony that sleep offered. I’d woke up to worse. I got up rather quickly, scrambling about the floor to find my clothes which had been stripped carelessly off my body the night before, gradually locating most things bar my top. I found the shirt Harry had on, throwing it on to cover me slightly so I could go downstairs feeling somewhat shielded. It still felt a little odd, manoeuvring around his house so freely, but there was no way I was going to wake him up just to see if I was okay to go downstairs and make a cup of tea. What continued to surprise me about his home was that it seemed like it had been designed to show off. It was a beautiful place, the interior now perfect, not a single thing seeming out of place other than the plants in his room and the black paint on his white kitchen wall. Everything had its place, there was even a grand piano in his dining room. The whole place was so gorgeous, like he had every intention of inviting people in and allowing them to revel in the home he’d created. I couldn’t figure out what it was that made him so private. I had to believe it was something beyond the house itself, deeper, more personal. Or maybe I was overthinking the whole thing. Despite the sun, as I stood waiting for the kettle to boil I was cold, already eager to get back upstairs, under the sheets, cup of tea, and likely a workout with Harry that was bound to warm me up. Not bad for a Monday morning. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs, happy to see Harry was slightly awake when I walked back into his room. “Mornin’.” I greeted. “Mornin’.” His morning voice was shattered and low. “Made you a brew.” “You did?” “I did.” I grinned as he sat upright. “This arrangement… that we have going on right now…” He put his back against the wall, taking the mug from my hand. “Is fucking beautiful. I’m so glad we’re doing this. Holy shit, thank you.” “You’re welcome.” I was giggling as I sat down on what had seemed to become my designated side of the bed. “How’d you sleep?” “Yeah, good. You?” “Really good. I think I’m a bit obsessed with your bed.” “It’s sick, innit?” “So good.” “Paid good money for this mattress, and it was worth every penny.” “Do you afford all this just from running classes?” I asked. It happened again. He sort of seized up, the topic at hand clearly making him uncomfortable, yet another thing that Harry didn’t want to discuss. “Um… I have… other sources of income. Don’t really wanna talk about it.” “Sorry.” “Don’t be.” He shook his head, brows low, eyes ahead of him. “I just don’t like… talking about money and stuff. It’s fake. It’s bullshit. Doesn’t mean anything.” I’d now known him since August and yet I still felt like I didn’t really know him at all. Every time a conversation came up where it could reveal something, anything, he cowered. I didn’t know about his family, I knew next to nothing about his life before moving to Rosebury, why he’d moved, what made him tick. There were small parts of his character that I knew, simply from being around him, picking up on things and seeing his habits, basic likes and dislikes, his kindness, but there was a depth to him I was sure I’d never see. It was probably a good thing, though it didn’t often feel that way. “I’m sorry.” I apologised again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It was stupid to ask about that kinda thing, I’m sorry.” “Honestly, Alf, don’t worry. It’s fine, I promise.” Placing my cup of tea on the ground, I flopped down, sprawling my body across his lap, looking up to him and seeing the way he smiled down to me. I could tell within the sweet look on his face that he wasn’t mad at me. I wanted something from him, something small, something trivial, but something to give me an insight. “What’s your favourite song?” I asked. “What?” He sniggered. “Your favourite song.” I replied innocently, tilting my head a little. “Why?” “Just intrigued. I wanna know.” “You’re cute. Fucking weird, but cute.” “C’mon.” I poked his stomach. “Enlighten me.” “Just one?” He was still smiling, stroking his fingers through my hair. “I know, it’s a shit question. But… A stand out song. If you can.” He went quiet, but I didn’t think he was contemplating, simply running his fingers through my hair and breathing in and back out steadily, already well aware of his answer. “I always liked Up the Junction by Squeeze.” “Interesting.” I grinned, squinting my eyes. “A bit of a depressing one.” “Yeah. Reminds me of growing up though, so… Yeah. I love it. How about you?” “Couldn’t possibly say.” “That’s not fair.” He then poked my stomach. “C’mon. Tell me.” “Don’t have one, sorry.” “You’re a dick.” He sniggered. But I didn’t care. I was just happy to know something, the smallest thing. Suddenly I knew his favourite song was linked to childhood, something he maybe listened to with his family. That was an insight, whether he realised it or not. It was tiny, but it was something. It was enough.

[bts-aesthetic-drabbles]

BTS as Halloween themed characters Part 1:(Namjoon)

*note: you are a witch

It is Halloween night in the year 1808 and you are currently out on the town with your pet cat Shadow scuttling at your side. The streets are made of broken cobblestone, which loudly click under the heel of your black boots. Your ankle length cloak billows in the wind as you briskly walk towards the dimly lit shop at the end of the street. A brown leather bound journal is tightly wrapped in your arms and is clutched to your chest as you march towards your good friend Namjoon’s science laboratory.

You reach the heavy wooden door and rap your hand aggressively on the door several times before it flings open revealing your angry looking friend Namjoon in all of his doctorlike glory. His long lanky arms and are covered in a crispy white doctors coat and his long, thin legs are wrapped in freshly starched black dress pants. His soft looking brown hair is messily strewn about his head like he has been running his hands through it all day.

“Joon-ah...I know that is it is late, and you are probably very busy with your experiments right now but I desperately need your help with something.” You huff as you flop down into a dusty wooden chair beside his desk, which is covered in the precisely filleted remains of a cat.

Shadow hisses from behind you at the sight of the open cat corpse pinned to the table and scratches at the wooden door while staring at you, waiting for you to let her out of the room. With a flick of your hand the door swings wide open and your cat scuttles out of the building and settles onto the pavement by the front door.

“Do you really have to pull out all of its organs like that?” You ask with your nose wrinkled in disgust as you place a nearby towel over the dead cat, effectively hiding it from sight, but not memory.

“Yes actually, I have to make the most accurate anatomical models and drawings that I possibly can if I am wanting my experiment to work. Everything has to be perfect for tomorrow night-“ Namjoon says as he wipes his bloodied tools off on a dirty rag and sets them back down on a metal tray.

He turns back to face me and leans back so he is resting the back of his thighs on the edge of his workbench. He crosses his long arms across his chest and looks at me with his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, obviously getting annoyed with me for interrupting and insulting his work.

“As much as I would love to hear all about the weird fucked up shit you are planning on getting into on this fine Halloween night, I have a serious problem that I need your help with, Namjoon.” I say with a deep sigh.

He gestures his palm outwards like he is waiting on me to tell him what the problem is, so I do exactly that.

“So, I was trying out a new spell for bringing plants back to life and I may or may not have accidentally...resurrected a dead mouse that just so happened to be laying next to the dead fern I was working on reviving.” I can see the clear shock on Namjoons face as I tell him what I have done, truly I am not even sure myself how I managaed to defy the very laws of the universe with that spell.

Plant resurrection is one thing, but to resurrect an animal is an entirely other thing. The laws of both magic and nature simply shouldn’t have allowed it to happen to start with. That is exactly why I am here talking with the greatest scientist I know.

“Okay, now you have peaked my interest. I need you to tell me exactly what you did...absolutely everything you did. From the spell, herbs, exact time of day and the precise situation that it happened at. It is very crucial that you do not miss even a single factor here.”

“Okay, I can do that I guess. But can you please put the little guy out of his misery? He is suffering and it is all my fault..” I sniff as I pull the small brown mouse out of my cloak pocket. I cup the creature in the palm of my hands and watch as it struggles and gasps for breath, chest heaving irregularly with every inhalation.

Namjoon’s annoyed eyes soften and he gently takes the mouse from my hands and places it on his work table. “As much as I would love to dissect him and figure out what his tiny little magic fueled body looks like on the inside after quite literally coming back from the dead, I can not in good good faith torment his soul and body any more. I will kill him quickly and painlessly, and in return I expect that you will tell me exactly what you did to make him like this. With some tweaking and just the right situation....this kind of magic could be used to save lives.”

As Namjoon listens to me explain the spell and situation that occurred just minutes before he works quickly to put together a concoction from the many glass jars and bottles on his wall. He mixes liquids and powders and stirs the mixture over a candle flame until it has dissolved to a slightly smoking purple elixir which he places in a small vial.

He picks up the mouse and takes the smoking glass vial and pours a single drop out onto the tip of his finger and presses it lightly to the struggling mouses lips. The creature lazily licks his finger and immediately it’s breathing begins to grow shallow and faint. Within seconds the mouses chest has stopped moving and it has gone limp in the palm of Namjoons hand.

“Rest well little guy, your suffering will not be in vain. You will revolutionize both science and magic and will live on and in spirit and save countless lives.” Namjoon says as he pats the mouses small head and gently presses its eyes closed with the tips of his long bony fingers.

With tears streaming down my cheeks I whisper a quiet thank you to Namjoon as he gently places the dead mouse in a small box with a lid and hands it to me.

“Shall we give him a proper burial in his honor for all of his pain and suffering?” Namjoon says with a sad dimpled smile on his face.

I nod my head and wipe my tear streaked face with the back of my sleeve and take the small wooden box from him as we make our way out of his shop.

Shadow meows quietly as the door creaks open Joon and I make our way down the cobblestone street with the wooden box in my hands and a candle in his. As we walk to my cottage in the woods to bury the martyr mouse, Namjoon casually grabs my hand in his and squeezes it tightly before entwining his fingers in mine.

*Other members coming shortly, hopefully!

[rwbyremnants]

WARNING: this chapter is NSFW for a very graphic demonstration.

Happy upcoming Thanksgiving to my American friends! Going to try to get out some more chaps after the holidays, maybe even finish editing some of our other fics and get those up. We have a lot of backlog haha. Enjoy!

=Chapter 7

Yang actually did show up for the study session after dinner, shocking both Weiss and Pyrrha thoroughly. Even more surprising was her outfit.

“You look… ridiculous!”

Frowning, Yang looked down at the poodle skirt and canary yellow cardigan. “What? It’s what most girls wear, right?”

“Yes, but you’ve never worn anything like that in your life, have you?” Weiss cackled, falling back on the bed. “Look at you! I’ve never seen you look this uncomfortable before!”

“Shut up!”

“Now, now, Weiss,” Pyrrha put in as she unpacked their books, though she was also smiling. “Don’t tease, it isn’t kind. She looks nice.”

“After all that teasing Yang put me through? I think it’s only fair!”

Rolling her eyes, Yang sat on the edge of the bed, watching Weiss’s legs windmilling in the air. “Goofball. You said I should look ‘less like a brute’, and I tried. And it worked, didn't it? Your parents let me right in.”

“Alright, alright,” she finally laughed, sitting back up. “For the record, you do actually look very sweet! Who knew you could be a girl if you tried?”

“I knew, you jerk!” Yang protested, folding her arms over her chest. “Wow, I think I’m being insulted here!”

“You’re very pretty,” Pyrrha put in, hoping to smooth over the bickering, even if it was playful. “A-and in your normal clothes, you’re quite… handsome? Is that alright for me to say?”

That caught Yang off guard enough that she smiled. “Really? I mean, I guess if you don’t mean it as an insult, it isn’t one.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t! Please don’t think that!” But now Weiss and Yang were laughing, so she ducked her head. “W-we should probably study…”

“Yeah, okay. Just don't be too mean; I got a head like a cinder block.”

After that, they got down to business for a good solid pair of hours. Yang wasn't the terrible pupil she claimed to be; though it took a little more work than it would with the average student, she got the basics of their history lesson quite easily. The dates were harder for her to recall but they did come to the surface of her mind eventually.

Algebra, however, didn't sink in no matter how long they took on it. Both Weiss and Yang started to get increasingly frustrated until Pyrrha called for a break.

“Just give it time,” Weiss encouraged her, petting up and down her bicep as the Dragon glared down at her books. “Believe it or not, you did make some progress tonight.”

“Just feel dumber.”

“You’re not dumb at all!” She leaned up to kiss her cheek, and Yang sighed in defeat. “This is a good start. We’ll make your mom proud yet.”

“Oh, that’s never gonna happen,” she laughed harshly. “Can’t be proud of a kid you never wanted.” When nobody responded, she glanced around to see Weiss and Pyrrha looking completely crestfallen and cracked a lopsided smile. “Hey, it’s nothing, guys. Old news. Let’s, uh… let’s get back to the books.”

Reluctantly, Weiss agreed, as did Pyrrha. They pressed on for another hour or so with their other subjects, then decided to call it a night before Weiss’s father came up to insist.

“Good work tonight,” Weiss told them outside her front door, all smiles. “And hey, don’t be so blue about that equation; it’s no picnic. You have catching up to do from before. Don’t worry about current stuff, just focus on studying from where we showed you.”

Glancing down at the book under her arm, Yang let out another weary sigh. But she was smiling slightly. “Guys… I gotta say, I almost left when you laughed at me, ‘cause that was kinda what I expected the whole time. Just laughing at how stupid I am.” While Pyrrha was wincing, she went on, “But you really surprised me by being… y’know… nice. Not just the regular kind, but about me being so behind.”

“Patient?” Weiss guessed, and she nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t make any sense being mad at you for something you didn’t know how to do. That won’t get you to learn it any faster.”

Pyrrha chimed in, “Exactly. You’re going to be holding your own in our classes in no time! You’ll see!”

Laughing with good humour now, Yang linked arms with her, which startled the other taller girl. “C’mon, Stilts. Let’s pretend to go back to your house and get my jacket. Seriously, you two… you’re the bee’s knees.”

“W-well, I… I like to help however I can,” Pyrrha said with a bright smile, in spite of the glow in her cheeks.

Weiss waved to the both of them as they walked away. “Bye, girls! See you tomorrow!” She would have considered blowing a kiss to Yang but that would only invite trouble. Instead, she turned to head inside.

“You seem chipper,” her father grumbled from his armchair.

“Do I?”

“Who was that new friend of yours? I don’t recall seeing her around.”

Weiss had actually practiced this in her head many times. “A friend from school. She’s been having a little trouble in arithmetic, so Pyrrha and I offered to give her a few pointers. I think we did some real good today.” There; no way he could see any problem with her clear goodwill.

Except he did. “That isn’t your job to do, sweetheart. Most of those young ladies in your class will turn out to be housewives or secretaries, and nothing more. But you…”

“I have a bright future ahead of me at Schnee Communications,” she droned, able to say the line in her sleep as often as it was drilled into her.

“Yes, and you might want to show a little gratitude. In a man’s world, you’re one of the few women who have a ghost of a chance at success.”

“Of course, Father. I’ll continue to do my best; my grades are spotless, are they not?”

He pursed his lips; she could even tell from the side of his face barely visible. “You had a B-plus last semester. Ironically, in home ec. But yes, otherwise spotless.”

The jab almost made her laugh. Almost. But she wanted to be done with the conversation. “Will Mother or Whitley be joining us for the rest of the evening? Or shall I retire to my room? I thought I might bathe and turn in early tonight.”

“Very well. But don’t forget what I said; look after your own interests before you worry about those of others. No one else is going to do it for you.”

Privately disagreeing, she merely said “Yes, Father” before slipping upstairs.

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

Weiss did as she promised. However, what she didn’t tell her father was that after a mere hour’s nap, she dressed again and slipped out her window as silently as she could, climbing down the trellis and tiptoeing across the yard in her socked feet until she got around the corner. Then she slipped on her new black ballet flats and ran down the block to their appointed meeting spot.

“What took you so long?” Yang hissed as she hopped up behind her, sliding her arms around the muscled waist. “Ah! Ooh, one of ‘em still stings!”

“Sorry!” she whispered. “For both. I heard a noise a little while ago, had to make sure Mother didn’t get up to drink herself back into her eternal wine-nap.”

Nodding her understanding, she let the bike roll away a little before she truly took off, hoping not to alert the entire neighbourhood. Weiss felt lucky that Yang wasn’t the type to tweak the muffler so it was as noisy as possible.

As they dismounted near Shopkeeper’s, Yang slid her arm around Weiss’s back and closed her eyes. “Mmm, you smell good.”

“I bathed,” she snorted. “You ought to try it sometime.”

“Nah. I think you like my natural musk.”

“That’s disgusting,” Weiss giggled as they walked inside. “But… I guess I must, since I’m still here.”

The place was a little busier that night. Women were dancing with women to the tunes on the jukebox, and one couple was simply making out in the corner of the dance floor rather than dancing at all. At their usual table, Velvet was sitting in Coco’s lap as comfortably as if she were the chair itself while the entirety of Yang’s cadre chatted and laughed. At peace with the world.

“Hey, guys,” Yang sighed as they took two empty chairs. “Sorry we can’t stay long.”

“I wonder why,” Emerald said lewdly, and a few of the others hooted and hollered.

“Now, now, it’s not polite for a woman to kiss and tell,” Weiss said primly. However, in a marked departure from all previous discussions, she wasn’t denying anything anymore.

“Geez Louise,” Blake breathed, pointing at the two of them with the neck of her beer bottle. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

All Weiss said was “Maybe”, but she might as well have said “Yes” for the reaction she got. Most of them at least clapped, if not cheered; even Cinder was nodding her vague respect.

“Welcome!” Velvet said, actually reaching out to shake her hand. Weiss laughed.

“Thanks! I don’t know, I’m still really… yeah, this is crazy! But what can I say? I’d take Yang’s pin anytime.”

“Fraternity pin?” Blake asked with a snicker. “I don’t think they let women into those.”

Emerald slapped the table with mirth. “We all know she’s gonna steal six frat pins if it means getting into her precious Princess’s skirt!”

“Hey!” Yang said, though she was laughing along with them. “Maybe don’t talk about my new girl that way, alright? She’s a high-class lady.”

“Not if she’s with you,” Cinder needled, and the others cackled and poked her shoulders, eventually making her giggle some more. Weiss tried to be offended but couldn’t seem to bring herself to do anything other than smile. They were more or less good-natured jabs, after all.

After a minute or two, Vernal came by to ask about drinks. Yang ordered them two club sodas in champagne glasses, so they could at least pretend they were celebrating in a way Weiss deserved. By the time she brought them around, Weiss was cuddled close to Yang, resting her head on her collarbone.

“We were ready to cream you,” Coco admitted as she pet up and down Velvet’s stomach through her blouse, the smaller girl sighing and completely limp as a ragdoll.

“I understand,” she replied. “But I really couldn’t know how angry she would get!”

Waving a hand of dismissal, Cinder said, “You should have been smart enough to figure it out, genius. What’s the point in having someone tutor the Dragon if she’s not even bright enough to pick up on that much?”

“Enough,” Blake hissed at her. “At least she’s trying to help her with her report card; keep Raven off her back.”

“A battle that cannot be won,” Yang snorted, now leaning her face against the crown of Weiss’s head and making the both of them hum very silently so that only they could tell – feeling it rather than hearing it thanks to their close contact.

“I don’t think so. I tried to get you to study with me before, but I guess I just wasn’t sexy enough.”

Yang blinked a little. “What is that supposed to mean, Belladonna? You’ve got a classy chassis. And you know I think so.”

“Oh… I was kidding,” Blake hurriedly told her, smile a little pained. “Sorry if that didn’t sound that way. But yeah, I am serious about the offer. If those two are busy, pull up a book.”

“Noted. Thanks, I mean it.”

The night wore on. Eventually, Coco and Velvet excused themselves to the restroom, and Emerald, Blake, and Cinder all kept up their alternate teasing and flirting. At one point, Blake came back from getting another beer and sat on Weiss’s lap “by mistake”, which no one believed for a second. It was all in good fun, and against all of her expectations, the spoiled rich girl found herself more at home with a gang of hoodlums than she ever had in her own house.

Emerald and Cinder went into the bathroom once Velvet and Coco returned, the former wearing a few red marks low on her neck. Weiss gaped at this development, but Blake explained patiently.

“She’ll have a scarf on tomorrow in school. Maybe two days in a row, if it doesn’t go away.”

“That’s so scandalous!” she protested, earning her a laugh from the others and a slight blush from Velvet. “Wow… you really do love Coco. Isn’t there anything we can do to keep you from moving back?”

Her smile faded as she stared down at the table. “No. Mum and Dad want to g-go back, and…”

“Come on. Why can’t they stay here, really? I doubt it’s because of you.”

“Well…” Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “I did ask again and got some better answers. My Dad’s been having a time of it finding work after the mill laid him off last Spring. Can’t be helped, he’s really done everything he can. And worrying about me running with the ‘wrong crowd’ only makes it worse, so I think he’s ready to leave the States and be well shut of Americans.”

Weiss filed that away for later contemplation. Maybe it wouldn’t be anything she could help with after all, but she wouldn’t know until she tried.

Meanwhile, she just noticed Blake and Coco whispering back and forth. When they were through, Coco turned to ask, “So Weiss… apparently, you and Yang still haven’t progressed past the ‘making out’ stage?”

“Thanks, Belladonna,” Yang grunted with narrowed eyes. “Apparently I literally have to say ‘this is a secret’ or you’ll blab to everybody in Vale.”

Blake shrugged. “You do. I mean, you never said it was a secret…”

“Never mind that,” Coco interrupted. “I think the princess needs some tutoring of her own.”

While Blake and Velvet were giggling, Yang groaned and rolled her eyes. “You guys are terrible.”

“What?” Weiss asked softly, fingertips raising to alight on her lips. “Am… have I been doing it wrong?”

“No, no! That’s not what they’re talking about. And believe me…” Instead of finishing, Yang just bit her lip and looked away. It was hard to tell in the darkened room, but Weiss could be reasonably sure she was blushing as badly as Weiss was most days of late.

“She’s over the moon for you,” Blake finished for her while Coco was whispering in Velvet’s ear. The other girl looked a little flustered by the words, but still nodded. “Don’t worry about that.”

Pleased far beyond a level she had any right to be, Weiss said, “Oh. Then what is it we’re talking about?”

Coco rubbed her hands together as if she were about to come into a large sum of money. “You and Yang are eventually going to want to try something… beyond a kiss and a cuddle. And you look like the kind of prude who covered her ears during health class when they started talking about our bodies.”

“Psh,” Weiss scoffed, even though the statement was a hundred percent accurate.

“So we’re going to give you a quick lesson.” As she spoke, Velvet stood up from Coco’s lap, and the other two stood on either side of her. “Pay close attention, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

The girl was so trim that it didn’t take much effort from the well-toned Dragons on either side of her to lift her up and seat her on the table itself. Weiss and Yang hastily moved aside the glasses and bottles so they wouldn’t be knocked to the floor; Weiss had noticed that even though the dive was technically abandoned, they took very good care of their refuge. Nobody ever threw a bottle or knocked food into the floor on purpose.

Then she was staring down at a pair of panties and forgot about the cleanliness of gangsters.

“Wh-wha…? What are you doing?”

“Guys, I think this is a little premature,” Yang was telling them, even though she wasn’t fighting all that hard to convince them.

“I think it’s right on schedule,” Blake laughed. “We just want her to be prepared.”

One of Coco’s gloved hands trailed down Velvet’s stomach and helped to hitch her skirt up even further. For her part, the Aussie was smiling vaguely, a little shy but mostly excited. Weiss had the distinct feeling this wasn’t the first time they had done this with her, even though she still wasn’t quite sure what they were doing.

“So… you aren’t required to participate, Schnee. Just watch. But we want you to get a good look.”

“Are you going to…” Her heart shot up into her throat. “Blake! You wouldn’t!”

“Why me?” Blake laughed. “Coco and Velvet are here, too!”

“Well… I don’t know, I thought you were less… crude!”

They all laughed, even Velvet. But it wasn’t a cruel laugh, and Weiss only felt a tiny bit mortified that she had bothered speaking out at all. Were they really going to do what she thought they were? It seemed cruel in a way. At the very least, it was improper and indecent! They were in a public setting! Sure, there was no one there except for Dragons and those who loved them, such as herself and Velvet - and she knew they certainly weren’t shy. But how could Coco possibly be alright with exposing her girlfriend to not one, but three other people?

Even as she was having that thought, she heard another voice from nearby ask, “Blake, d-do you want anything from the kitchen? I know she’s your mother - don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. But I thought I could… save you a…”

When glancing up, she saw poor Ilia looking about as thunderstruck as she felt, eyes completely round as she gazed down at the mostly-exposed pelvis on the table. She was frozen as if a statue.

“No, thank you,” Blake sighed. But she wouldn’t be getting rid of her that easily.

“Good timing, Amitola,” Coco said with a little smirk. “You and the princess can be our students for today. Two for the price of one.”

Blake’s head snapped around to glare at Coco, who only grinned more widely. After a brief staring contest, she rolled her eyes in defeat. “Fine. Can’t hurt anything.”

“O-oh, I…” The girl almost seemed to change colours completely, from a light tan to a deep red. “What? Student? I don’t- what are you asking me to do?”

“Go stand over by Weiss and watch. That’s it. You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing.”

And Ilia did it. Suddenly, Weiss found herself standing next to the smaller girl, intensely aware of how close she was. Ilia seemed to notice in the same moment, glancing up with a nervous smile. “U-um, hi.”

“Weiss. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands, and Yang laughed. “Hey! Just because you girls are being disgusting doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still be polite!”

“I didn’t say a word,” Yang snorted.

“Alright,” Coco said to get their attention. “I’m going to begin your lesson if you two are through being all high society over there. I’m studying to be a doctor, you know.”

Ilia and Weiss turned to lean down just a little. They both seemed to be of equal mind that they didn’t want to get too close, but also felt strange standing fully upright. Gloved fingers twitched the fabric aside-

Weiss closed her eyes. This was too strange for her. What were they doing?! Showing off someone else’s body for fun? It went against everything she had ever been told growing up, and even though she had been questioning a lot of that lately, this was too far, too suddenly. So indecent!

“Weiss,” Yang whispered. “You can tell us to stop, you know.”

“Ohhhh,” Ilia was saying on her other side. But Coco didn’t seem to be concerned with Ilia’s reactions.

“Schnee, if you’re not gonna look, there’s no point in doing this. Poor Velvet got up on this table just for you, and this is the thanks she gets?”

Grunting in annoyance, she turned to look down… and her breath caught.

Velvet Scarlatina had a lovely example of the female anatomy. She hadn’t known what she expected to see, or how she expected to feel about seeing it - this couldn’t actually be happening to her! A half-naked woman was on display for all to see, should they get curious enough to wander over to their table! Did this really happen so frequently in Shopkeeper’s that nobody cared?! Still, the delicate little pink petals were as beautiful as many flowers she had seen in nature, glistening with dew as if seen in the first light of morning. A sparse patch of brown hair above the area reminded her of dandelion fluff somehow. The temptation to lean in and inhale deeply rose within her, but she suppressed that; it definitely wouldn’t smell like an actual flower.

“Better,” Coco said, voice more seductive, and the spell was broken. When she glanced around at the others, she saw Yang was looking out of passive interest, but Blake was watching Yang instead. That was interesting. Ilia, of course, was staring at the pink folds in wonder as she herself had been doing a moment ago.

“Well?” Velvet asked with a slightly bemused smile.

“W-well, it’s a vagina,” Weiss said dismissively. “And a nice one, of course! But n-nothing I haven’t seen in an anatomy textbook.”

“I haven’t,” Ilia admitted, clearly even shyer. “I’ve never even looked at my own in the mirror.”

“Really?” Weiss asked, slightly surprised. When they glanced at each other, they both felt a little self-conscious; only now did they realise how close they were and what they were doing. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. This is, um… not what I thought I would be doing tonight.”

“You’re telling me!” They both chuckled before turning back to look.

“Glad I have your attention,” Coco deadpanned. “Now this… is the labia majora.” One fingertip traced along the peach-hued skin around the folds themselves. Velvet shivered but that was the extent of her reaction; as Weiss suspected, she was used to this sort of treatment. “The mons pubis.” Up to the thatch of brown hairs, through them, and then all the way down below her opening completely. “The perineum.”

That one did make Velvet shiver. “Coco, I t-told you not to tease me down that far in f-front of other people…”

“I wasn’t going further,” she promised her, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead to reassure her. Weiss was completely certain she meant going down past said perineum to her anus, but that was silly. No one would bother touching anyone else there. “Now, I’ll need a volunteer.”

“Hey, you said we didn’t have to do anything!” Weiss reminded her.

“Not directly. I need someone to hold her open very slightly. You can both use one hand apiece.” Coco’s hands pressed into the skin on either side of Velvet’s opening, pulling just a little to demonstrate. “Yang, do you want the honours instead?”

“That’s alright,” she chuckled, hand gently resting against Weiss’s back. “Let the new blood have the fun.”

So Ilia and Weiss each used a hand to tug to one side. It was a strange experience, touching another woman so close to such an intimate area. Warmer than she expected somehow. Velvet sighed in distant pleasure from feeling two foreign hands on her body. Ilia gulped, glanced up at Blake as if for approval, then pointed her eyes back down when she was pointedly ignored.

“Now this… is the labia minora.” Coco’s finger caressed over the petals, and Velvet could no longer suppress a soft moan. “And contrary to popular belief, this is the vagina. Not the whole thing; just this opening here and what’s inside. The outside part is called the vulva.”

“Ohhh,” Ilia breathed. Weiss had known that much, even if she had only seen black-and-white diagrams before. “So… okay.”

Leaning over, Weiss muttered in her ear, “Can you believe we’re doing this?”

“No! But I don’t want to miss anything!”

“Ready to move on?” Coco asked, even though she was currently stroking up and down Velvet’s soft lips, prompting more little noises from her. “Alright, we’re almost done. One last thing, and this is very important.”

Two of her fingers reached down and began to gently hitch up a small fold of skin at the top. It revealed something Weiss technically knew existed but had forgotten about completely.

“OooOOOooh,” Yang cooed theatrically, as if it were the unveiling of a Christmas tree or similar.

“This is the clit,” Coco said, ignoring her.

“Clit… you mean the clitoris?” Weiss leaned a little closer. “It’s so small; I thought it was larger than that.”

Shrugging as one finger moved down to touch the clit, Coco said, “All shapes and sizes. Mine’s a little larger, but not by much.”

“Looks like mine,” Blake affirmed for them, almost as if to reassure Velvet that hers was normal. The exposed specimen did glance up at her with a slight smile, even as she was writhing slightly from the stimulation.

“Mine’s way bigger,” Yang snickered. “Everybody jokes it’s because I’m such a dick. But… yeah, everybody’s different. Not really better or worse.”

Ilia was leaning ever closer. After a few seconds, she seemed to realise, and moved to one side. “S-sorry, you probably can’t see.”

“No, I can see,” she assured her, also leaning closer as they watched the finger begin to circle around the clit. “What’s this you’re doing now?”

“Getting her off.” A brief silence. “You know… making her come?” Nothing. “Orgasm?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks coloured a bit more. “Ohhhh. Should we… leave you to it?”

“No, this is part of the lesson.” As Velvet’s hips began to squirm, she went on, “If you can do this with your tongue or finger, you’re definitely going to get your girlfriend off. Well… some girls actually get off from internal stimulation more than this, but the clit is almost always the magic button. Don’t forget about it.”

Ilia licked her lips, as if she could barely restrain herself from acting on her urges. Weiss felt no such compulsion to participate. It was definitely thrilling, and she could feel that tingle return that she had managed to suppress. But she was fine with leaving this up to Velvet’s Dragon.

“You look like you want to move to hands-on,” Coco said to Ilia.

“Huh? N-no, I didn’t… well, I’m curious, but it’s not Velvet that I…” Her eyes flicked up to Blake again, but she turned them back downward right afterward. She really was trying not to be as obvious as she was. And failing.

“I definitely don’t care,” Blake told her without any hesitation. “Of course, if Weiss wanted first crack at it…”

“Stop teasing,” Weiss sighed. “You know I’m not going to try this on Velvet.” At the last two words, Blake and Coco grinned and elbowed each other. “Or at all! Do you have to take everything I say the worst way possible?!”

“Best way, you mean,” Yang purred into her ear, and she melted completely. She was the only one who could cut through her prudishness and sense of decorum like a hot knife through butter.

Meanwhile, Ilia was touching Velvet with her other hand now. Not very much, just testing how things felt under her fingertips. Coco was still working at her clit, but she was also making a lot more of an effort to lean down and kiss Velvet’s face. Reassuring her girlfriend that she hadn’t forgotten their relationship just because they were engaged in a “group activity”.

It didn’t take much more coaxing before Ilia started going down on her. Coco and Blake gave pointers, since they could see what she was doing from their perspective, and she adapted as best she could. Weiss had to turn away several times to regain her composure; this was definitely not a normal school night.

“NNhh!” Velvet finally began to moan some minutes later. “Ilia?”

“Yes?” she asked, out of breath.

“Fingers… in?”

“Alright,” Coco encouraged her when she saw Ilia’s deer-in-the-headlights look. “So you want to insert two fingers, and you want to do it perpendicular to her thigh. Not straight down or straight up, but straight in. Want me to show you first?”

When Ilia nodded, Coco leaned far over her girlfriend and demonstrated with her index and middle fingers, sliding them into the wetness. The squelching sound made Weiss cover her eyes again for a moment, and the urge to flee the room entirely was quite strong. But the moaning and the quiet “Ohhhh” from her fellow pupil did make her look again.

“This is so wrong,” she breathed as she watched the gloved fingers sliding in and out of Velvet’s body.

“A little,” Yang admitted in a soft voice, still stroking Weiss’s back. She had noticed the hand slid down to her rear end once or twice, but had made no comment and gave no reaction. “But she’s doing it right, so at least she’s gonna make a great doctor.”

Ilia had been alternately gazing in longing, and nodding as she committed this or that aspect to her memory. Then she said, “Can I try?”

“Sure.”

Hands were traded. Velvet moaned much louder when she felt Ilia inside of her - probably because it was someone new rather than the technique being any better or worse than Coco’s. This went on for another minute of writhing and panting. Taking the initiative on her own, Ilia lowered her mouth to the clit and went back to work, doing her best to bring her more pleasure. And within a few more seconds…

“AH!” Velvet cried. “I’m… it’s g-going to…”

“Keep it up, Amitola,” Coco encouraged her as she pet along her love’s hair. “Don’t quit on us now!”

Weiss watched as everything continued. When Velvet’s back arched and she cried out in sheer pleasure, Ilia started and glanced up at them. “It’s- something’s happening! It’s grabbing my fingers!”

Laughing a little, Coco encouraged her, “Don’t stop. Just finish her off first and then I’ll explain.” She got back to work. Not long after, Velvet flopped down in a puddle of sweat, and Coco nodded. “Alright. So that was her orgasm. For some women, the inside of the vagina kind of clamps down during the finish; most of us, really. It’s totally normal, and a great sign that you were succeeding.”

“I was?” Flushed with her success and her efforts, she glanced over at Blake, who merely shrugged. Her cheeks were a tiny bit pink, but she was doing a good job of playing it cool. “Wow… I m-mean, this is good, right?”

“Very good, if you want to date women. Probably not of much use if you don’t, though you could try training a man to do it for you. Not that they’re much good at that…”

Nodding her agreement, Blake looked back up at Weiss. “So, any thoughts?”

“What thoughts am I supposed to be having? I just watched a stranger do unspeakable things to one of my friends’ girlfriends on a restaurant table!”

“Yes, but did you learn anything that could be of use?” Her head nodded toward Yang, who was shaking her head and laughing.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But I’ll at least inform you that I’m a very good student.”

While Blake and Coco were laughing, and even Velvet was snickering slightly, Ilia withdrew her fingers and caused her laughter to turn into a quiet sigh. Then she pulled her underwear back into place over her and patted the sensitive organ through the fabric.

“Thank you,” she made sure to tell Velvet.

“Of course. I’m… I’m glad you liked it. Always kind of self-conscious when someone new is messing about down there.”

“Don’t worry, I… I liked poking down there with you,” she told her earnestly. They were definitely sharing a brief moment between them, and Coco, her actual girlfriend, didn’t mind. It was crazy.

“Your body is lovely,” Weiss made sure to tell her with a polite smile. “And… well, I can’t pretend I wasn’t at least a little stimulated from watching, even if I’m not sure any of this was necessary. I already knew where all those things were from class!”

“I didn’t,” Ilia reminded them.

“Most students don’t,” Coco told her with a friendly pat on the shoulder as Blake helped Velvet down. “Pretty normal, to be honest.”

Just then, as Ilia was looking relieved and very distantly pleased with her own efforts, Emerald and Cinder returned from the bathroom, their hair dishevelled. “What did we miss?” Emerald asked.

Everyone else burst into laughter. Even Ilia, despite being the one least welcome at that table. Maybe that could begin to change at last.