#taylor; pulling away at every piece of armour | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hueningsloverr · 11 months ago

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౨ৎ king of my heart !

pairing: yeonjun x non idol!reader summary: yeonjun loved being in love. especially since he got to be in love with you. word count: 1.0k extra: inspired by taylor swift's 'king of my heart'! apart of my valentines day series

liking yeonjun was like liking water. everyone did. you’d never meet one person who didn’t have something positive to say about him. even ex girlfriends praised him. he was a gentleman, through and through.

and that’s what made liking him so difficult. he was too kind for his own good at times. always lending you his sweater when you shivered even the slightest. picking a specific movie you had mentioned once weeks ago.

small things.

he remembered the way you took your coffee. the song you claim you grew up listening to on repeat. both of your parents birthdays, and their anniversary.

most importantly, he remembers the day he first laid eyes on you.

it wasn’t the first day you met. that day wouldn’t come for another two years. but the day he first saw you was just as crystal clear in his memory as what he ate for lunch. it was something he would never forget.

he was dropping kai off after practice, and you were visiting lea. the two of you were outside, and whilst you didn’t even register the car pulling up, yeonjun instantly saw you.

he was mesmermized.

and by the time he asked kai about you, it was two weeks later. and you were back off at school states away.

the two of you wouldn’t run into each other again until two years later, when one fateful night would lead to the two of you meeting, for real this time.

you were alone in the bar, lea off laughing with friends as you sat talking away with the bartender.

(the two of you went to high school together, you’d later tell yeonjun when he’d inquire about the night.)

he first noticed lea, but the moment he saw you he felt like he was eighteen again, seeing you for the first time. sure, time had passed, but you still looked similar to how you did back then.

not even three weeks after your chance encounter, he was already calling you ‘baby’. you felt like a school-girl in love once again whenever he would utter that word under his breath, trying to be discrete about it.

it felt like a fairtytale ending. something so sweet. so perfect. it was idealistic.

idyllic, he once called it. you didn’t know what the word had meant, not at the time at least. extremely happy, peaceful, or picturesque. checked out.

the two of you just fit together like puzzle pieces. despite any beliefs you had surrounding the idea of being single forever, yeonjun was able to convince you to give him a try.

he was the one you had spent your whole life waiting for - your knight in shining armour (or whatever the saying was).

he treated you like he worshiped the ground you walked on, which all your friends fawned over, but you found slightly unhealthy. to you, there was absolutely nothing special about you as a human being. you did the same things every day - wake up, go to work, go home, go to bed. it was a constant cycle of nothingness.

yeonjun on the other hand? he was cool. he had an exciting life. he was famous. you were the one that should be treating him like he was royalty - like he was god. but he freaked out whenever you tried.

"jjunie!" you called out, seeing him. there was such a wide smile on his face you were surprised he wasn't in pain.

he didn't say anything, just raced towards you. it didn't matter that he was tired, and sweaty, and just wanted to go home.

you were there.

"i missed you," he mumbled into your ear, his grip on you so tight you were worried someone would have to pry him off of you. "did you see the show?"

you nodded, unsure if he would really be able to understand the gesture. of course you saw the show. "you were amazing, serious-" you began to praise him, only for him to interrupt you with a soft kiss to the forehead.

"you don't need to go into detail, i already get told that a hundred times a day." he groaned, rolling his eyes. you could tell he was embarrassed. but it was the truth. he was good.

"whatever," you laughed, taking his hand in yours. "you never let me compliment you."

he smirked slightly, choosing to not deny the claim, but also not agree with it. "yeah, yeah. i saw that boy, during soundcheck. he was doing some checking of his own." he huffed, though you could tell his annoyance was not aimed towards you, but the boy who had been (apparently) flirting with you.

now it was your turn to smirk. "you know those boys are nothing compared to you! doesn't matter if they're millionaires with expensive cars, you're the one who lives in my heart."

he nodded, resting his chin on your head. he was already done with the conversation. he knew you would never hurt him, but the reassurance was nice. the confirmation leaving your lips, not one of his members.

"if i died right now, i would die happy."

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. this caused him to look down at you.

"i feel like a teenager in love again when i have you with me. like i'm still seventeen, pining over the girl in my physics class."

his voice was almost a whisper, as if even he wasn't sure of what he was saying.

"i know sometimes you doubt yourself, but this right here? what we have? it is enough. it is so much more then enough, actually."

you weren't even sure where all of these confessions were coming from. it was as if someone had given him a truth serum, and he was just spilling his guts.

"you know, i didn't date at all before you. you are the one i have been waiting for, all these years."

those words reminded you just why exactly you were in love with choi yeonjun. it wasn't because of his money, or his status, or his looks. it was nothing about who he was on the outside. it was because of the person he was beneath all of that. his feelings, his hopes, his dreams.

all of that is that made you fall in love with him.

and all of that is the reason he was the king of your heart, body, and soul.

forever and always.

authors note: part one done!!! four more parts :3 i'm planning on posting soobin on saturday so keep your eyes peeled! this is also a partial birthday gift to my lovely @anxietyglitch <3!!

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emmaannaelisabeth · 3 years ago

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Treacherous Waffles

this is purely 6k words of kanej fluff, for you my friends to enjoy. based on taylor swifts song treacherous. it took me about 30 hours so treat it with care, lots of love! no tw in particular, but i aged them up a bit cause i could, and its a modern au.

“Don’t whip the cream too hard now”, Inej says and looks over her shoulder. Kaz looks up from the bowl in his hands, turns the hand mixer off, blinks slowly and looks at her, eyes just a little wider than usual, his eyebrows very close to his hairline.

“What?”

A smile flashes past her lips and she shakes her head lightly. “I said, don’t whip it too hard.”

Kaz frowns. “Darling, I whip it the way I want it.”

“But-” Inej sighs, lifts her hand into the air and lets it fall to her hip. “-you almost make butter out of it”, she sighs.

“I absolutely do not.” Kaz raises one eyebrow at her, almost offended. “But perhaps I shouldn’t whip it at all”, he says, first looking down at the cream and then up at her; a fraction of a smile teases the corner of his mouth.

“You barely want it whipped”, he says. “You want it to float all over your plate.” He shakes his head, shivers theatrically and smiles crookedly.

Inej huffs and turns around, flips out a fresh waffle from the waffle iron. “That is not true.” She tries to sound annoyed, but Kaz can hear the smile in her voice, he can hear how it threatens to stain her serious face. Because it is true. Inej wants the cream to float off the spoon, Kaz wants it to stick to it when he turns it upside down.

She doesn’t argue more with him though, she just blinks slowly at him and shakes her head as if to say Why do I even keep you around? “You want butter, then butter it is.”

“It’s not butter”, he mutters, defending his case, and lowers his gaze to the bowl again. Inej turns her back towards him; he can feel her smile making the air vibrate around her. Kaz steals a glimpse of her; he watches her open and close the waffle iron, looks at her hand as she grips the fork and sticks it into the golden waffle. Her small fingers close around the steel, her bronze skin contrasting beautifully to the silver of the fork.

As silly as it might sound, he wishes he could be that fork. He wishes he could muster the courage to be held (not like a fork, obviously, but almost). Kaz wishes he could feel those bronze hands in his, he wishes he could let his fingers entangle with hers, let his long slender ones braid into her so much smaller ones.

Just holding her hand would be enough, just knowing that it is her hand in his would make him swim in stars. Kaz blinks slowly. He doesn’t know where all these thoughts are coming from, and he can’t decide if they frighten him or not, if they make him brave or faint-hearted. Does this soft precious heat, this immense warmth, inside his ribcage bring him joy or pain, tears or laughs, or both? Is this aching in his heart, this need of her and nothing else, this sudden longing and desperate wish for more, hurting him or healing him? Kaz can’t tell.

Blue eyes fall on her again and he swallows hard, his gaze trips at the sight, stumbles as always. How he wishes he could just walk up to her, correct a strand of dark hair, put it behind her ear and gently tilt her chin up, turn her head towards him. How he wishes he could cup his hand around her cheek, lean in slowly, look into her eyes, ask for permission - get permission - and then feel her soft lips against his.

Kaz bites his lip and forces himself to look away. What is this crazy feeling? This reckless foolishness, this dream that he knows he will never be able to have? This bright piece of heaven he desperately wishes he could hold in his hand?

What if he were to ask her? Inej, put your lips close to mine. His world swirls by the mere thought of her that close, his heart throbs and he feels it as if he was on fire, as if someone had lightened a match on his clothes and let the fire spread. The fire, the heat, the hunger and the greed plays with his mind, teases his consciousness. He can’t decide if it’s giving him life or holding a blade to his throat.

Because Inej could technically do that. Yes, she could very well hold a blade to his throat, again, but she could also put her lips close to his, as long as they don’t touch. Well, - he presses his lips tightly together to hide the grin that trespasses his face - she could do both and he wouldn’t mind. Not really.

Before he can stop himself, he lets his tongue taste the soft surface of his upper lip. And, even worse, before he can barricade the door of dreams in his mind, he has already asked himself if hers would feel like that, if her lips would be as soft as his.

The world around him seems to go out of focus and all Kaz can think of is Inej’s lips. Something hot pulses through him, something he doesn’t know what it is, something he fears might ruin him as well as heal him.

“How many do you want?” Inej then asks and pours more waffle batter onto the hot iron.

“Sorry, what?” Kaz stirs, as if someone had woken him up from a dream. (Isn’t it weird, when the dream itself wakes you up?)

“Waffles, Kaz”, she smiles and turns her head to meet his gaze. Kaz forces his eyes to stay on hers, and not wander off anywhere else.

“Four”, he says quickly, without much thought, swallows and bites his lip, his eyes riveted on her.

“Four?” She raises one eyebrow. “Have you eaten anything else today? You usually only eat two.”

Kaz shrugs. “I’m hungry”, he says, huffs. He fears that waffles won’t ease this hunger though. He fears that he’s hungry for something else, something more.

Inej smiles softly and turns around. Kaz feels his inner self falling to his knees. He wants to scold that part of him, yell at the foolish boy behind his ribs to stop, get himself together. His mind is a mess, a mess of dreams and hopes and wishes and nice things and bad things and pain and sorrow and fear and joy and despair and peace and war - all at the same time.

He damns himself for imagining her close, imagining her face right in front of his, imagining them eye to eye. Her beautiful eyes. Her dark brown glimpses of life and joy, his Earth, his grounding, his safe place. Everytime they catch his gaze, he feels it as if she had tied a ribbon around his heart, and pulled him in. He would want nothing more than to follow her, give her all of him, strip bare of every piece of armour he has, hand her his heart on a silver plate and say It is yours if you want it, whenever you want it, always.

But his feet are stuck in deep water and he cannot walk with her. Sometimes he manages a couple of steps, but sometimes the tide is too strong. Sometimes, the waves hold him back, keep him from reaching land, from reaching the safety of the cliffs, from reaching her. Sometimes, he fights the tide until he almost gives in, almost lets himself get swept away, almost lets himself sink under the waves, never to see the light of day again.

But no matter what happens, he won’t stop. No matter how easy it would be to close his eyes and let the river have its way with him, he won’t ever stop swimming, he won’t ever stop fighting the echoes of death on his skin, he won’t ever stop fighting the horrors of the world around him. Not until gravity itself is too much; never until it sweeps him off his feet in a fight and denies him the right to get up, slays him with the help of hard dark cobblestones and hard hits from men he doesn’t even know.

Kaz will never stop fighting for her, not until gravity pulls him down into the cold dirt in a casket. Perhaps not even in death will he stop. His heart won’t. His soul won’t. He won’t.

Inej’s smile shines before his inner gaze. Her lips curve and split her face in two, pouring sunlight on his soul. Her white teeth peer out from behind her lips, and oops, there’s that reckless boy sitting on his shoulder again, asking him questions he doesn’t need right now.

What would her teeth feel like against your tongue?

Kaz’s eyes widen and he stops breathing, feeling his stomach flutter. Stop it.

How would her lips taste? How would they meet yours?

Kaz grits his teeth and looks down at the bowl in his hand. He starts the hand mixer again, happy to have the sound of it drown his own thoughts. For a moment.

Would they be eager, hungry like yours?

Kaz swallows and turns around, feeling his cheeks burn with fire. He throws an angry glare at his shoulder, but there’s nothing, no little grinning boy, there. Even so, the silly boy keeps asking questions.

What would it feel like to touch her? Is her skin smoother than his? Of course it is, Kaz thinks.

Is she soft? What kind of question is that?

His cheeks flush; that’s not the way he wants to think of her. He never wants to think of her as only what meets the eye, as only what he can touch, as only what can give him pleasure. Never, never will he be like one of her ghosts, never another horror. That’s not how he wants to treat the person who has given him her heart.

But even so, he can’t stop his mind. He can’t stop his curiosity from slaying his sanity. Kaz isn’t one of them, he just doesn’t know... anything.

He might be twenty one, he might think of himself as a man sometimes, but really, there’s only a clueless boy beneath his skin. The boy inside him has never known the joys of the flesh, he doesn’t know what it feels like to hold hands in the rain, or how it feels to have your loved one’s lips trace every part of your skin, sealing every wound and sorrow with their love.

Kaz has never gotten a taste of the sweet fruits of closeness or heard the soft lullabies of pleasure, at least not with someone else. After all, he had grown up a boy, and learned what every teenage boy learned. He had gotten glimpses of what it could feel like, but never had he ever been able to taste the true sugar of lust, the true dessert of life.

Love was a foreign spice, and happiness a completely new flavour that he hadn’t gotten the chance to taste. Now, he doesn’t know how to function without them.

Sometimes it had bothered him, sometimes not, that he wasn’t strong enough to even hold someone’s hand. Sometimes, his heart had sunk in his chest, dragged down by the possibility that he might never be unbroken enough to have a girl embrace him. He knew many looked at him, he knew they wanted him. Perhaps he would have wanted them too, if he hadn’t been so messed up.

Inej didn’t. She didn’t want him. Kaz smiles to himself. No, at first she practically despised him. And that was perhaps why he started loving her, partly because that shit is frickin hot, but mostly because she didn’t expect him to give her anything. She took him for what he was, but she encouraged him to be more.

Be more, not to give more.

But that only made him want to give her everything he had.

He gave her his secrets; she learned about his demons and he feared she’d leave. Instead, she told him about hers.

She had told him about their hands, their breaths, their greedy grasps and rough embraces. There had been tears in her eyes, and Kaz had sworn he’d never become such a man.

He’d sworn he’d never allow himself to become stained by the greed of the careless man, the greed that demands more than a poor woman’s love and heart, demands more than she can give, more than she has. If he ever encountered that greed in his heart, he would make it fall to his knees before him, kneecaps cracking.

But if he couldn’t win...

Send your blade through my heart if I ever hurt you, he’d said to her.

He’d rather have one woman, one woman with a heart a thousand times brighter and more beautiful than his, and wait for her to heal, heal together with her, than leave a trail of broken girls behind him.

Kaz would rather die than hurt her. And he knows she stands by the same words, as the ones written in his heart. It’s a seal, a holy sacrament between them. Words before touch. Gazes before words.

If she doesn’t want him close one day, he’ll stay away. If she can’t stand lying beside him and listen to him as he breathes, he’ll hold his breath. If she can’t manage to be close to him the way other women are near their men, he will settle with just a few seconds of eye contact.

Kaz thought he had settled this with his mind, that he’d told the reckless boy on his shoulder that it’s enough, but apparently.. no.

Is she warm? Yes, you podge. Shut up.

Kaz sighs and turns the mixer off, looks down at his own hands, gazes upon the scars on his knuckles. He huffs softly and smiles.

No gloves.

On good days, he can go without gloves now. It’s a basic thing - Inej and Jesper and Nina and Wylan and Matthias and everyone else do it all the time - but to Kaz, it feels big. Kaz feels big. He feels like a boy again, proud and smug, just like when his Da let him ride their horse Blanca for the first time without being held.

How he wishes he could run his ungloved thumb over her knuckles, feel every line in her palm, caress every part of her hand. Her beautiful hands. He wishes he could hold them, enclose them with his, hide them from the world, keep them safe, keep them soft and unharmed. Keep them from ever needing to touch whenever they don’t want to.

Her hands. The way they move, so gracefully and gently. They are like the wind, mysterious, quiet, there always, but unable to grasp. At least to Kaz. If he did… His heart sinks. He's gotten far, thay have gotten far, but he still has a lot of work to do on himself.

They’ve managed accidental touches - he never flinches anymore when she accidentally brushes his shoulder or arm when walking past him. No, they do that now. To them, a brush on the shoulder was a kiss on the cheek. To them, a gaze could be equal to the soft touch of a hand. To them, standing half a metre apart makes them feel high. High on something sacred, only meant for their hearts.

Does she know? Can she tell? Can you see it on my face, that I’ll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands?

Of course she does. She is Inej.

She pulls out the cord to the waffle iron and turns around. “You done with the butter, love?”

Her voice makes him look up, his gaze falls on her braid, hanging gracefully over her shoulder, beside her arm. Kaz wonders what it’s like having such long hair. Is it heavy? Is it warm in summer? Is it rough and glistening like his? He smiles to himself. No, it’s thick and soft, so soft.

He’s touched it a couple of times, no, many times actually, and everytime it had made him burn, made him put an effort into breathing slowly. No water splashed at his feet, no waves roared in his ears, only fire burned in his heart. It burned him so bad, hurt him so good, made him feel alive.

Her hair was so soft he feared he might cut himself on it. Clumsily, he’d tried to braid it once. Inej laughed when she saw the result. Frankly, he did too, and if he ever died, he wanted that sound, her laugh, to carry him to the life after this.

Kaz huffs and rolls his eyes. “Butter is ready, Wraith”, he smirks as he moves to the fridge to pick out the strawberry jam, and then two plates and flatware. Inej shakes her head and looks at him, You’re hopeless, you and your butter, and moves to take the bowl to the table. She walks up to the kitchen counter and feels a big smile take over her face as she glances down into the bowl.

Tipping it just a little to the side, she sees how easily the cream moves, how loose it is. She clicks out one of the whisks from the mixer and rolls the shaft between her fingers, examining the cream.

“Bravo, mister”, she murmurs, catches Kaz’s gaze as he turns his head. His lips curve into a smile and he shrugs.

“Everything for you, ma’am.” He clicks out the remaining whisk and lifts it to his mouth, licks off one of the wire loops as he leans towards the kitchen counter.

Inej’s eyes widen, she blinks and raises her eyebrows. Her cheeks feel hot. Her stomach flutters in a way she doesn’t need right now.

He frowns at her. “What?”

Inej bites her lip and points the whisk at him. “That”, she says, huffs, blinks and presses her lips into a thin line.

“That what?”

“Looks like you’re doing something else.”

Kaz’s eyes widen for a short moment, and his back straightens - Inej wants to laugh, because he obviously didn’t mean for it to look like that - but then the corner of his mouth flies up, and a smug half smile forms on his lips. Inej knows that smile, and she stops breathing as his gaze changes, as his pupils dilate.

“Does it bother you?” he asks and opens his mouth, tilts his head to the side and lets his tongue entangle with the loops, stealing the cream from them as the thief he is.

Yes. It makes me want to do something reckless. She breathes in slowly. And I’d be smart to walk away.

A smile teases Kaz’s lips as his mouth opens once more and his tongue caresses the silvery metal. Inej can’t help but look at his lips; scarlet red in the pale landscape of his face, a rose in the desert, a beacon of fire on the sea. She wonders if they’re soft, if they’re soft like hers. If they’re anything like any of the lips that have met hers.

No, she smiles. They must be softer and warmer than any lips in the world.

“No”, she answers him, steadily meeting his gaze even though she’s lying. His face, his mouth, his tongue makes her heart race, makes her whole soul quiver with weakness, makes her deepest core throb with something she has never felt before, no, all of her throbs, and her heart beats her ribs, hard.

His eyes are calm, as always, checking if this is okay, if she wants him to stop. Inej thinks her heart is just about to melt, from the heat and fire within, the fire he started, or the love and gratitude she feels towards him, she doesn’t know.

She would probably do best in walking away, but Kaz is quicksand. And Inej decides to step right into it.

“Does this bother you?” Inej bends her head back slightly and lets her mouth fall half open. Slowly, she lifts the whisk, moves it down her tongue, licks off the cream.

“No”, Kaz murmurs, his voice suddenly much lower than usual, his usual raspiness now sweet and buttery, timeless and nonexistent at the same time.

“Good.” She looks at him through half open eyes. She curls her tongue around the metal, licks her lips. A smug smile spreads on her face as she sees Kaz’s ribcage expand, as she sees how the T-shirt stretches over his chest.

She’s walking on thin ice, running downhill. And this slope is treacherous. This path she's taken is reckless.

But that’s not even the worst part.

I like it.

Brown eyes sweep over Kaz’s chest, over his arms, over the dark tattoos on his skin. Not just the Dregs’ crow and the cup, not just the R, but the feathers on his upper arms, the wings she knows own the skin on his back, beneath the white fabric. She’s seen him shirtless, she’s seen the muscles play beneath his skin on his shoulder blades, she’s seen the dark nightblack ink move, as if the wings were real.

What would it feel like to feel his feathers beneath her fingers? Would they be soft? Oh, dear Saints… Inej breathes in deeply. His skin. She feels weak. How she wishes she could feel his skin against her fingertips, how she wishes she could kiss every feather with her lips, how she wishes she could feel every scar beneath her tongue.

She feels herself vibrate, tense and relax, blossom and die, burn and fade, at the same time. He’s standing right here, so close, and yet, so far away.

Inej is standing right there, so close, so far away from him. Kaz feels faint, and yet, he feels more awake than he’s ever been in his whole life. He feels as if on fire, every part of him burning hot. It terrifies him, and it makes him want to laugh; it makes him want to run away and it makes him want to… do things.

“Kaz”, she whispers, and Kaz closes his eyes, bows his head. Why, he doesn’t know, he just does. He can’t decide if it’s a choice, or if it simply was the fact that Inej just said his name, just let her angelic lips form a profane word such as his name.

“Talk to me”, she says again, and Kaz doesn’t know what to say, all he can do is look up and meet her gaze. He knows his cheeks are blossoming with red, but for some reason he’s not ashamed of it. It feels right, somehow.

“I”, he begins. “I’m feeling…”

“You’re okay with this?”

“Are you?” A frown forms on his brow and he looks into her eyes. She smiles softly - Kaz feels like he’s swept away by the wind, by that smile alone.

“I am more than okay with this.”

More than okay. Kaz swallows hard, bites his lower lip. His stomach flutters. She said that, she really said that, she said that. His heart beats for two.

“Tell me what you’re thinking”, she whispers, taking a step closer. Kaz feels his heart flip behind his ribs.

“I want to… I don’t…” He looks at her, mesmerised by the sight of her, of her big eyes, long lashes, blushing cheeks. He can hear the sound of his own voice in his head, asking, no begging her to stay. Other than that, he has no idea what he’s thinking.

“I don’t know what I want to do”, he whispers, uncertain. But I want to do something. Saints, I want to... His heart pounds, wildly, madly, greedily. All of him aches, aches in a way that makes his every cell vibrate with electricity, but also makes his heart stagger in horror.

What is this feeling?

“Can’t you try to tell me?” she tilts her head to the side, a small furrow of worry between her eyebrows.

Kaz stumbles on the words. “I- I don’t know.”

“Can you show me?”

All colour disappears from his face, his chest stops moving, and his arms drop to his sides. Inej swallows hard, wondering if she took it too far, if she broke the magic between them. Shit. She grits her teeth.

All we are is skin and bone, trained to get along. She wants to look away, she wants to lock herself up in the bathroom, she wants to stare at herself in the mirror for too long, she wants to tell herself to stop pushing him. Maybe we can’t get along…

The silent clattering of the whisk being put down on the kitchen counter meets her ears, and she wants to sigh. I screwed up.

Brown eyes lock on his hand, as it lets go of the whisk. Something breaks inside of her, what if she can never hold his hand, what if she can never kiss it? What if she can never feel her fingers braid into his? What if she’ll never be able to love him the way she wishes she could? Give him all of her, not just her life and heart, but her body too.

Then, she feels her heart skip a beat. His hand moves to the hem of his shirt, to the small amount of fabric that is tucked in behind his dark trousers. What is he…

He grips the fabric with his hand, and slowly, he pulls it up so it hangs freely on his upper body, not tucked in at all. Inej can’t breathe. Kaz looks like he’s breathing for two. Brown eyes lock with blue the same way the sea meets the land, the same way the sky meets the earth.

Without a word, he moves his hand up and grabs the shirt behind his neck and pulls it over his head. Then he stands there, arms hanging at his sides, T-shirt in his hand. His eyes are dark; glittering blue has turned into a dark night sky of stars. He looks at her, swallows, tries to breathe slowly, as if he had his soul under control.

He thinks he should feel naked in front of her, but somehow, he feels free, liberated in some strange way. He feels like he could float away, go with the flow of life, of everything, forever.

But there is one tiny problem. Inej is friction.

Especially when she puts her whisk away and crosses her arms, closing her fingers around the hem of her sweater and pulls it over her head. He tries to look at her face, he really tries, but this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless. And he slips; his gaze lowers.

He lets his eyes follow the strap of her black bra, and he feels his mouth fall open. Blood thunders in his ears and he’s for some crazy reason feeling tears prick in his eyes. She’s so beautiful, she’s the most…

Forcing his gaze to move, he looks into her eyes. He wants to tell her, he needs to tell her… what?

I’ve seen an angel, Inej. I’ve seen a Saint.

In this moment, he’s a believer. There is magic in this world.

Inej smiles. First it’s small, a bit shy, and then grows big, with teeth and stars in her eyes. She looks at him, lets her gaze sweep over his chest, over his skin, over his graceful build. He must have been sculpted by the Saints themselves.

Her ribcage heaves, her breaths get bigger, slower.

This slope is treacherous. She drops her sweater on the floor, takes a small step forward.

I like it.

She reaches out her hand, closes her fingers around the end of the T-shirt. Looking deeply into his eyes, she lifts her hand to her chest, rests her fist on her collarbone, and feels the blood pulse beneath her skin. Kaz follows her hand, keeps holding onto the T-shirt. She can feel his hand tremble through the fabric, but she can see that his tremors aren’t caused by water around his feet. Not this time.

Slowly, she moves her hand down, lets her fingers trace her sternum, and Kaz follows, almost as if it was he who moved his hand over her skin. She reaches the middle of the bra and follows the lace up to the beginning of the strap.

Brown eyes meet blue. The earth crumbles and the ocean is storming. Desperate waves crash into hungry cliffs.

Kaz can’t believe his eyes. She’s showing him, she’s letting him, she’s…

She cups her hand gently around her breast through the bra and the white fabric of his shirt. And Kaz feels like he could drop dead. It almost feels like it’s his hand, and not hers, as if he touched her. And she let him do that. Saints.

His eyes snap up to hers. A second passes, it feels like an hour. It feels like a sleepless night, and they are the only two headlights shining, lightening up the darkness around them. His light chases hers, hers chases his. It will get him, and it will get him alone.

Inej. Her name, her name echoes through his mind. He feels like he should tell her, thinks she should now.

I would follow you, follow you home.

Inej blinks slowly, tries to control her breathing. She doesn’t move her hand, she keeps it where it is, waits for Kaz to do something, anything. Talk, drop the T-shirt, laugh, smile, look away, reach out... Whatever he does, she is sure of one thing. When all is uncertain and crazy, one thing is clear; one fact is written on the side of her heart, there to remain.

I'll follow you, follow you home.

Kaz breathes in, slowly, and moves his hand, pulls her towards him; the fabric of the shirt stretches between them. He moves his hand to his chest, right in the middle, where his last pair of ribs meet.

Blue eyes look into brown, and Inej can see them sparkle behind the dark strand of hair that has fallen into his face. She lowers his gaze to his hand as he lets his fingers spread, as his palm lies pressed against his ribs. He moves his hand slowly, almost up all the way to his throat; his fingers graze his collarbone. But then he lets it travel down to his heart, and he closes his eyes, bows his head towards his hand.

Inej’s lips scream for his, begs for his mouth on hers.

Kaz curls his hand around the shirt, and lifts it to his mouth, presses a kiss on the soft white fabric. Inej’s heart almost stops, she can almost feel his lips on her hand, yes, as if the shirt was her hand. He looks up, as his lips still linger on the shirt, and meets her gaze. And Inej feels her cheeks grow hot, that look is meant for her. And her only.

Hope spreads its wings inside of her. But hope is treacherous, this daydream they’re living right now, is dangerous. She should walk away. Otherwise she doesn’t know what might happen.

But for once, she lets go, of her fears and her ghosts, and she decides she likes the danger. And she wires the shirt one lap around her hand, taking a step closer. Kaz smiles softly, mirrors her, shortening the distance between them.

And then, they’re close. So close he could bow his head and his forehead would touch hers. Inej desperately wishes he would.

She tilts her head back and looks into his eyes. If she could drown in his oceans of blue, she would.

Her free hand trembles slightly as she lifts it, as she holds it right above his shoulder, above the dark feathers on his skin. She can feel his gaze search hers.

“Can I-”

“Please”, Kaz whispers, voice soft as fresh linen sheets, warm like sand on the beach. Try.

She lets her fingertips graze one of the dark feathers on his shoulder, and she can feel him tense. And she immediately takes her hand away.

Kaz looks up. He pulls her other hand closer with the shirt, crosses his arm over his chest, places both their hands on his shoulder. He spreads his fingers over his skin, looks at her, I want to feel it.

She frowns. Really?

The smallest fraction of a smile passes his lips. Yes.

Inej takes a step closer, standing right next to him. Then, she leans forward and lets her lips graze over one of the feathers on his shoulder. She feels his skin against her lips for the shortest of moments, and then she pulls back, looks into his eyes. A bright smile rests on her lips at first, You did it, Kaz!, but then it fades in an instant.

Kaz’s eyes are glittering with tears, and he stares at her, his mouth hanging open, a small frown on his face.

“Kaz”, she says, taking a step back - they always do that, whenever it gets too much to handle. “Kaz, did I do something wrong?”

Kaz doesn’t answer, instead he blinks, and the tears spill out of his eyes.

“Hey, talk to me”, she says, tilting her head to the side. Worry forms in her stomach. No, no, no, what did I do?

“I love you”, he whispers. Inej’s eyes widen. What?

Kaz huffs and suddenly, his whole face is split in half by a beaming smile. “I love you”, he says, half sobs, as he pulls his free hand through his hair. He chuckles.

Inej is speechless. They have said it before, but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone speak truth like this before. She has never heard a heart borrow a mouth, she has never seen Kaz rip his ribcage apart to show her what he truly hides inside.

He looks at her, eyes burning like stars, his face lit up as if he was a small boy who managed to climb down from the tree himself. His eyes tell her one thing: Did you see that? Inej, did you see me? I did it, I managed it.

And then the tears come to her eyes as well. She doesn’t have a chance of stopping them. “I love you too”, she whispers, and tries her best to smile. “I love you so much, Kaz.”

Kaz smiles at her, looks at her as if she’s the sun. “You’re my best friend”, he says, as his face screws up with a sob of gratitude.

Inej smiles proudly, feels her cheeks hurt from how happy she is. “You continue to surprise me.”

“I aspire to do nothing else.”

There’s a beat of silence between them, until Kaz speaks again. “Can”, he begins, dries his cheek with his free hand. “Can I try?”

“Try what?”

His lips curl, the corner of his mouth flies up. Smug Kaz is back, she thinks.

“A kiss for a kiss?”

Inej smiles brightly and huffs. “Of course.” She doesn’t think she’ll ever find words that can describe the pride in her heart, when she thinks about how far he’s gotten, how far they’ve gotten.

And Kaz pulls her back to him with the shirt. He bites his lip and huffs as he looks into her eyes. His free hand moves up to her face, carefully puts a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, without touching her skin. He squints his eyes, shakes his head slowly, as if he can’t believe she’s real.

“What?” Inej asks.

“I’ll follow you wherever you go”, he murmurs, smiles. He bows his head, lowers it right next to hers, and whispers into her ear. “I’ll follow you, follow you home.”

Inej can feel his hot breath on her neck, and it takes everything in her not to lean her face against his, not to let her lips catch his.

“And where is that?” she asks, voice barely audible. She can feel his nightblack hair against her cheek, she can see the black wings spread over her back as he leans in.

“Right here”, he says and lets his lips land on her neck. His featherlight kiss takes them both on its wings, carries them away, flies with them to a place neither of them know.

On the feathered back of love they fly, with the crows of hope, towards the land of dreams, only to find that it is, in fact, right here.

Right here.

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more (branjie) - holtzmanns

read on ao3 | tumblr

“I did mean it, you know.” Brooke looks at her with such an intensity in her eyes, such conviction that Vanessa doesn’t even feel her ADD ass getting distracted by anything at all this time.

“Mean what?” Vanessa’s gonna play dumb. Gonna make Brooke say it again, ‘cause she’s never gonna tire of hearing it.

“That I love you.”

AN: In which Holtzmanns hears ‘Cruel Summer’ by Taylor Swift and has to write something because she has no self control whatsoever. Whoops? Poppedthep and Writ are absolute stars and the BEST for editing this and making it better.

“I did mean it, you know.” Brooke looks at her with such an intensity in her eyes, such conviction that Vanessa doesn’t even feel her ADD ass getting distracted by anything at all this time.

“Mean what?” Vanessa’s gonna play dumb. Gonna make Brooke say it again, ‘cause she’s never gonna tire of hearing it.

“That I love you.”

Even though it fucking hurts every time.

“Good. You better.” She deflects, shoves Brooke’s side to make her laugh, ‘cause what else is she supposed to do?

It’s not like Brooke’s words actually mean anything. Not in the way Vanessa wants them to, needs them to.

They’re empty. Empty promises, a bandage wrapped around an amicable breakup that sure as hell ain’t been easy to get over.

Because no matter how much Brooke says them, no matter the way she had to snap her fingers in front of Vanessa’s face earlier to get her to focus, to pay attention so that she could say ‘I love you’, Vanessa knows they don’t matter.

‘Cause Vanessa knows that Brooke doesn’t love her enough.

Brooke still goes after every hoe, every hot piece of trade that she wants to take back to her hotel room, going home with them. She knows she’s the shit. She doesn’t care that Vanessa sees, ‘cause why would it matter to her now?

They’re not together.

Brooke doesn’t love her like that. Enough to stop herself from sleeping around, enough to commit.

Vanessa’s fine with it, she is. Mostly ‘cause she has to be. How else is she gonna survive touring with her ex?

It beats the fighting, the nasty words. The cruel barbs she regrets the second they leave her mouth when she sees the way that Brooke’s eyes falter. Brooke can get away with causing Vanessa pain, fucking around, not giving a shit. But Vanessa’s unable to come for Brooke in any way that would leave a permanent mark on her pale skin.

It’s not Brooke’s fault. She doesn’t say anything. It’s Vanessa’s own inner voice, tutting in her head, Chile…don’t do that. Don’t stay stooping low.

Now that she thinks about it, her inner voice sounds a lot like A’keria.

They share an Uber back to the Gladstone Hotel with Jason and Steve ‘cause it’s cost efficient, not that either of them have to worry about money anymore. They’re still in drag and Vanessa’s feet are killing her, pinching in her heeled boots but at least she looks fucking good in them. Brooke still towers over her and Vanessa has to speed up her pace to keep up as they walk through the lobby.

Jason and Steve get off at their respective floors. They leave Vanessa in the elevator with Brooke, ‘cause she’s on the seventh floor and Brooke’s pressed the 6 button for herself. Vanessa doesn’t have to look up to know that Brooke’s eyes are on her, trailing up her dress and lingering on the highlight on her shoulders and the hand that she runs through her hair. Her gaze feels like it lights a flame across her body, burning and burning. It never burns bright enough to bring Vanessa down for good, make her fully fall apart. She always manages to survive it, albeit a little worse for wear.

The elevator dings when it reaches the sixth floor, and Brooke takes a step as the doors open. She doesn’t leave fully, though, one foot still in the elevator. She turns around, gives Vanessa those eyes. The ones that Vanessa can never fucking say no to ‘cause something about Brooke makes her weak.

“You coming?”

Vanessa rolls her eyes, huffs, as if she’s not clamoring to follow her. “Fine, bitch. You better have extra makeup wipes.”

Vanessa sits cross legged on Brooke’s bathroom counter in her underwear, stripping her face of the makeup and glitter that acts like an extra set of armour, though one not thick enough to protect her from what she so desperately needs it to. She’s still here, de-dragging with Brooke whom she’s as hung up over they way she is over Brock.

Rinsing off his face and washing off the remnants of the Branjie gig isn’t cleansing enough for Jose to bring him a sense of peace or closure. How can it, when Brock is shaking out the mess of curls on top of his head and looking at Jose like he’s a piece of meat or something?

Jose really ought to become a vegetarian. It would save him from being hung up over someone that don’t want him back. At least, not like that.

Brock puts his hands on either side of the counter where Jose is sitting, effectively boxing him in while he’s facing the mirror. It fills Jose’s nose with a mix of Brock’s shampoo from the morning, aftershave, and a spritz or two of perfume that he sprays on when he’s Brooke. A concoction that never fails to twist Jose’s heart in excitement and longing alike.

How is it possible to long for someone who’s standing right in front of you? Jose doesn’t know. What he does know is that it’s not good for him, aging him too fast and soon he’s gonna look older than his mother, though it ain’t that much of a challenge ‘cause no one believes she’s his mom, anyway. Brock feels like sand that’s slipping through his fingers, an emptying hourglass that’ll never fill itself up again. Brock and him are gonna separate as they always do and Jose’s gonna be left empty and turned upside down on his head with nothing to fill his heart back up.

He’s tried. Tried to fit other guys into the hole that Brock’s left in his chest, but they never fit, never feel right. Brock’s ruined all other trade for him, which in Jose’s rulebook should be considered a capital offense. It doesn’t matter how much they look like Ryan Gosling or how sweet they treat him, taking care of him the way he deserves but doesn’t want from people who ain’t Brock.

Brock buries his face into Jose’s neck, and Jose can feel the scrunch of his eyes shut against his skin. Brock does this sometimes, holding him extra tight or closer than usual and Jose doesn’t want to complain, ‘cause really, he wishes he’d be important enough to Brock for him to never let go.

Jose lets Brock grab his shoulders, turn him around so his back is to the mirror and his legs dangle off the counter. He melts into the kiss that Brock presses to his lips ‘cause Brock always makes him feel so warm from the inside out. He lets Brock push him onto the bed, eagerly pulls Brock closer. If he’s only gonna get Brock occasionally, when they’re in the same cities and maybe a little bit tipsy and their inhibitions and common senses are down for the count, he may as well enjoy it, right?

It’s gonna hurt later. When he has to leave Brock’s hotel suite in the morning for his own and go back to pretending that he’s fine, that their arrangement is fine and that he’s not a second away from breaking down over it again, like he always tends to do when he’s had one too many tequila shots and listened to too many sad songs and the only word that his brain can think is Brock Brock Brock.

But that ain’t now. Right now Jose has Brock on top of him, pressing kisses everywhere like he’s the most precious thing in the world, and it’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter that Brock won’t keep believing it after they both come.

It’s not ‘til it’s four a.m. and neither of them are sleeping that Jose says something. He’s resting his head on top of Brock’s chest, and can feel Brock trace patterns along his shoulder blades, the base of his spine, the curve of his ribs.

“We could go back to this. All the time. It wouldn’t be hard to do.”

Brock’s fingers stop moving. Jose can feel the way that Brock stiffens underneath him, the way that his heartbeat quickens.

“We can’t.”

It’s a conversation that they’ve had before. Too many times before.

“We could. Me and you. Not for the fans or for anyone else or nothing. Just us. I know you miss it, Toes.” As if the nickname is going to make Brock bend. It nearly does, ‘cause Jose catches Brock’s fingers twitching.

“You know what will happen if we do.” Brock’s voice is tired and worn and Jose almost hates that he’s the one who’s caused it. Almost. ‘Cause Brock’s gone and fucked him up, too.

The two of them cancel each other out. Yin and yang, molten and ice.

“What? What’s gonna happen?” Jose makes Brock say it every time. He’s not gonna stop asking, as if Brock’s logic will suddenly not be as airtight anymore.

Jose wants them to work so badly. He wants it, his heart wants it, hell, his entire body wants it and never wants to let Brock go whenever they’re like this, all intertwined as if they’re just two regular people that are together.

And yet, they always have to drift apart. Brock takes a piece of him each time he goes, and Jose knows he does ‘cause what else could explain the hole in his chest that seems to grow every time that he walks away?

“We’re always flying to different places, we’re never in the same time zones anymore. Our schedules are ridiculous right now. Adding that extra pressure would make things worse, you know that.” Brock’s voice is quiet, and Jose almost doesn’t hear it over the hum of the ceiling fan, the sounds of driving cars outside of the hotel window.

“We’d make it work, if we wanted.” Jose wants to. He really, really, wants to. More than anything he’s wanted his whole life.

“We already tried.” Brock sounds defeated. “You know what happened with that.”

Jose getting jealous of every hoe that Brock talked to, hugged, interacted with. Brock pulling away from him, as far as he could to give himself some space, as if being around literally anyone else was a better option.

Jose had felt like he was chasing a ghost, whispers of Brock because he was never truly there, not in the way that Jose needed. Jose gets it. He’s a lot, he’s a handful. But he wants the best, goes after the best, because he deserves it.

Brock’s the best, in his eyes. So soft and sweet and shady and Jose fits in the crook of his arm like he belongs there, even though he knows that he can’t stay there forever.

Jose wishes he could, though. That getting back together wouldn’t immediately mean destruction for the both of them.

“Doesn’t mean you should go, though.” Brock wraps an arm around his waist, pulls him closer. Jose wants to lift his face up and scream at him for being so flippy floppy but he also wants to scream at himself, ‘cause of course he’s not going to leave, not when his heart never wants to leave Brock in the first place.

“Stay.” Brock’s voice is all soft in his ear and Jose’s resolve is already on the ground when Brock’s hands start to trail up his sides.

He’s too weak for it.

“Can’t go. I know you’d cry yourself to sleep if I did.” Jose grins up at Brock, trying not to think about the fact that Brock probably wouldn’t even care. Would he?

Jose hates it. As sweet as he’s being right now, he knows Brock’s gonna be ignoring him by next week. Not responding to his calls, his texts, unless he wants something ‘cause they always play by Brock’s rules and it’s giving Jose whiplash.

Brock’s all warm right now, and being in his arms is making Jose feel like he never frosted over in the first place. As if this were a year ago, and they were newly together and everything was fresh and exciting and new and not marred by scars that both of them carved with dull knives into their intertwined hearts. If he closes his eyes, they could be back there. All new and tentative and exciting.

But they’re not. They’ll never go back to that. Brock’s made it clear.

It’s fine. Jose’s fine with it.

He is.

Jose still has a piece of Brock, anyway, even though nights like these cause burns upon his skin in the aftermath. Like he’s never gonna heal from the effect that Brock has on him. Like it doesn’t even matter, ‘cause he doesn’t want to.

Brock’s always gonna tug on his belt loops, pull him into an empty rooms, hallways, each others’ hotel rooms. ‘Cause this is what they do now.

It’s better.

Jose has to accept it, go with it, even though it burns.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #canon compliant #post branjie show #holtzmanns #what doesn't kill me makes me want you more #tour fic

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helloalycia · 6 years ago

Text

good news [three] // alycia debnam-carey

summary: Alycia had returned home now, and you are adamant on watching her character 'Lexa' in The 100.

warning/s: none.

one | two | masterlist

Alycia settled into our flat pretty easily and without a hitch. It felt great having her back where I could just hang out with her without it having to be through a phone screen.

It wasn't long before The 100 season 2 aired on TV and I forced Alycia to sit with me every time an episode was relaxed. Especially the episode where her character debuted. Alycia revealed nothing about this season nor how her character was, so I was genuinely in for a surprise. I knew the basics from when she told me she got the part, but that was about it.

"Alycia!" I yelled, shaking her knee. "That's you!"

Alycia chuckled as she looked up from her book to the TV. Her character 'Lexa' was being debuted and I couldn't contain my excitement from seeing my best friend on TV. Alycia felt awkward watching herself, hence the book she was reading as I watched.

"Wait, I thought you were some badass Commander?" I asked her, not tearing my eyes from the screen. Her character was being presented as some poor peasant girl. "Did they change your character?"

"Be quiet and watch and you might understand," she teased, making me roll my eyes.

I continued to watch, screaming with excitement whenever her character would come back on the telly. Eventually, the end of the episode was near and Lexa's life was being threatened by another character, Jaha.

"No, Aly, you can't die! You were filming for ages!" I complained, on the edge of my seat.

"Just keep watching, Y/N...," she mumbled, too engrossed in her book to care.

Suddenly, Lexa flipped Jaha onto his back and I screeched with excitement. As she walked back, she said something in a different language before putting some sort of armour on with the help of the guards.

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE THE COMMANDER!" I screamed, jumping off the couch.

Alycia laughed at my reaction, pulling me back onto the couch. "You already knew I was, you idiot!"

A grin was on my lips as I looked to Alycia. "That. Was. Iconic."

She continued to laugh at my reaction as I shook my head with disbelief.

It was a regular occurrence for me to fangirl over Lexa's character whenever she came on TV. Alycia found it amusing, meanwhile I was thirsting over a fictional character and a very real best friend.

There was one time when we reached a few more episodes in from her debut and I was heavily invested in the show. Alycia was beside me reading a book again (her usual action whenever we watched it) as I watched with anticipation.

I was up to the part where Lexa and the main character, Clarke, were burning Finn's body when Lexa was talking about losing her loved one, Costia.

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE A LESBIAN!" I screamed, pointing to the screen.

Alycia laughed from her corner of the couch and I looked to her seriously.

"Obviously your character, not you," I clarified, "but still."

Alycia nodded, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks for reminding me." I felt my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment as she continued. "This was what I was talking about when I said there was something about my character you'd like."

Alycia knew I was gay and she also knew about my endless rants about the lack of LGBTQ+ characters in the industry. She knew how important this was to me.

I grinned. "She's a big fat lesbian Commander. Who would have thought?"

Alycia laughed all over again.

I sighed with exaggeration and sprawled myself over Alycia's lap, forcing her to close her book.

"This is amazing, I love her even more now," I said dramatically. "I'm falling in love."

She chuckled and looked down to me with her gorgeous green eyes. "Not too much, I hope," she joked. "That's me, idiot."

Oh, if only she knew.

I played along. "I already love you, Alycia, what do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes playfully as I laughed. I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice the faint pink blush warming up her cheeks.

The 100 night was practically a tradition for us now, even when certain things interrupted it for us. For instance, when I happen to have an out-of-the-blue date.

"So she's from your class? And she just asked you on a date?" Alycia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," I confirmed for the tenth time as I pulled a bunch of clothes out of my wardrobe. "Is it so hard to believe, Aly?"

She smiled with embarrassment. "No, of course not, that's not what I meant–"

"I'm kidding," I cut her off from a probable never-ending ramble. "Now can you help me find an outfit, please? Or I will be tempted to go in my pyjamas."

She nodded and helped me dress up appropriately for my date. I wasn't even sure I like liked this girl, but she'd asked me out and I have a hard time saying no. Besides, what could possibly go wrong from me saying no? I might end up liking it.

"Remember, record The 100 and we're gonna watch it together when I get back," I told Alycia as I opened the front door.

She bit her lip. "What if you come back late?"

I gave her a knowing look. "Let's be honest, Aly. I'm probably gonna come back before the date is even finished."

An adorable smile fell upon her lips as she nodded. "Okay... have fun, Y/N. Call me if you need anything."

I winked. "You got it, Commander."

She rolled her eyes and practically shoved me out the door. "You really need to stop calling me that."

I laughed and waved goodbye as she shut the door. I realised as I was making my outside that I wasn't up to actually going out on a date with someone – I'd rather be sat on the couch watching TV with Alycia.

"She doesn't like you like that," I told myself quietly. I needed to get over my crush on Alycia and try to put myself out there. Maybe this date with Jasmine wouldn't be so bad...

I ended up completing my date with Jasmine. The two of us had a great time, but we agreed that there wasn't really anything between us but friendship. We discovered that pretty early, which meant the rest of our date was more of a hangout, but it was still fun.

I was glad to be returning home to Alycia to watch The 100. As I opened the front door, I saw her chilling on the couch with a blanket covering her. When she saw me, her expression lit up.

"Hey!" she greeted as I approached her. "How was the date?"

I flopped onto the couch beside her and got comfortable under the blanket.

"Good," I nodded, "but we agreed to just be friends. There wasn't really much there but friendship."

I wondered if I had imagined Alycia's shoulders relaxing when I revealed this.

"Sorry," she said, offering a small smile.

I shrugged. "It's okay, I'm not bothered. I do want to watch The 100 though, so if you don't mind..."

She chuckled and put it on for me before grabbing her book again. I sat comfortably as I watched the episode. Halfway in however, there was a part where Lexa and Clarke were having some sort of argument in Lexa's tent. Next thing I knew, Lexa had kissed Clarke.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," I repeated, eyes glued to the screen. Never in a million years would I have imagined Alycia (who I was 99.9% sure was straight) kissing another girl, acting or not.

"Oh, Y/N," Alycia chastised playfully, shaking her head.

"This is something I can ship," I spoke my thoughts aloud, before dropping my jaw when Clarke pushed Lexa away. After telling Lexa she wasn't ready, she left the tent making me point at the screen with disbelief. "Seriously? This hot piece of ass kissed you and you leave?!"

"Y/N!" Alycia laughed, hitting me on the leg.

"What? I know I'm your friend, but that doesn't mean I can't admit that you're a hot piece of ass, Alycia."

She rolled her eyes, but stayed silent with embarrassment.

Feeling like I'd given too much of my crush on her away in such a short amount of time, I tried to push the topic away from me.

"How was it kissing Eliza Taylor? She's so hot so it must have been awesome."

Alycia's cheeks heated up as she chuckled awkwardly.

"Never mind, Leashy, sorry," I apologised with a laugh.

"Eliza is a good friend of mine, so it was a little weird," she admitted, avoiding my eyes as a flustered smile stayed present on her lips. "It worked though, so yeah."

I grinned at how cute she was. Yeah, maybe I never had a chance with her, but that didn't mean I couldn't imagine kissing her for myself. Was that weird? Probably. But I liked her so much and something told me this crush would be hard to kick away.

I tried, I honestly did. And I was sure I was concealing my feelings well enough to be considered nothing more than 'friends'.

There was a time when Alycia, Laura and I went for a day out, shopping and just hanging out. It was fun and I kept my feelings in check. I was sure I was getting over her, to an extent.

This time out was the first time Alycia was actually stopped in the streets for the recognition of her character, Lexa. It was adorable, meeting a fan that admired Alycia and her portrayal of such an important character. I knew that if Alycia hadn't moved in with me when she did, I'd probably be a fan, too. Heck, I was now, friend or not. She was that good.

After shopping for many, many hours, the three of us decided to stop off at the beach for an hour or so. Not to swim and play in, of course, but just to sit on the sand and chat.

As we parked our car and headed into the sand, I looked to Alycia.

"You're from Australia, right?" She gave me a knowing look. "I mean, you're from Australia, so, like, shouldn't you be tanned?"

Laura laughed from beside me whilst Alycia breathed out slowly and shoved me in the shoulder.

"What! It's a valid question!" I defended with a laugh.

"Her favourite question," Laura said with a humoured expression. "I asked her the exact same thing when we first met."

"So has everyone else I've ever spoken to," Alycia added sourly, making me laugh. "Can't a girl just be pale and not get questioned?"

I continued to laugh with Laura as Alycia pouted adorably. The three of us settled on the sand, sitting together and chatting about anything. We went through our purchases and Laura and I teased Alycia some more which was always fun. We were having a great time and the three of us took a selfie to which I posted on my Instagram. It didn't take long for my notifications to flood with The 100 and Lexa fans.

"Wow, you're very popular on here, Aly," I said with a chuckle, reading through some of the comments on my post. "A lot of thirst lesbians are heading your way because of this Lexa role you've got."

Laura laughed as Alycia took my phone to read some of the comments for herself. She smiled with amusement as she kept on scrolling. She handed me back my phone as she leaned back onto her elbows.

"Don't worry," I reassured her with a cheeky smile. "Only one thirsty lesbian has your heart."

Laura burst into laughter at my comment as the tip of Alycia's went red with embarrassment. Mere teasing, nothing more. Friends could do that!

I was sure I was getting over Alycia, despite the occasional bursts of feels I would get when she did something cute. That was just my gay self getting speechless because of a cute girl, not a crush. I was sure of it. Well, I was until...

"This is so good," Alycia said with her mouth half full of food.

We were at the diner I worked at, eating lunch. She'd been busy with some press and interviews this past week for The 100 whilst I had been busy with lectures and work. This was her first free moment all week and she was spending it with me on my lunch break, hanging out.

"I'll give the chef your compliments," I said with an amused smile.

We enjoyed the half an hour I had before it was unfortunately time for me to return to my shift. I would have much rather stayed there with Alycia.

"I'll see you back at home," I told her as we both stood up from our booth.

"Okay."

She smiled and leaned in to hug me. As she pulled away, she slowed down and kept her arms around my shoulders. I was going to question if she needed anything else, but was cut off when she leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine.

As soon as she kissed me, she pulled back, startled by her own actions, as was I. She kissed me.

"Uh... bye!" she blurted out before turning around and leaving.

I opened my mouth to call her back and say something, but nothing came out. I was too shocked to do anything because I couldn't grasp the fact that Alycia had actually kissed me!

"Hey," I heard my boss approach me. "I didn't know you and Alycia were a couple now. Congrats!"

Still dazed, I watched the spot where she was once stood. "We're not."

My boss merely laughed and patted me on the back before walking away. I was frozen for a second, before turning to clear our table. Still, I couldn't forget the feeling of Alycia's soft lips pressed against mine. It was quick, but it happened.

She kissed me.

***

Returning home after my shift had me feeling extremely nervous. I was unsure what would happen between Alycia and I. Did she like me? As in more than friends? Would she tell me that?

The thoughts were chewing away at me as I unlocked my front door. When I clicked it shut and dropped my keys on the small table beside the door, I saw her sat on the couch watching TV. When she saw me, she perked up and stood up nervously.

"Uh, hey," I greeted first.

She nodded. "Erm, hi."

I waited for her to say something else, but she didn't. I scratched the back of my neck as I looked to the floor awkwardly.

"You kissed me," I said, looking up to meet her nervous, fluttering eyes.

She licked her lips. "Yeah... I did."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I should have asked," she blurted out. I shot her a confused look to which she added, "To kiss you. I should have asked. I shouldn't have just kissed you."

My heart was racing. "You should have asked?"

She stepped forward, moving closer to me. "Can I kiss you?"

My mouth felt dry. "Y-you want to kiss me?"

She moved even closer, leaving a small gap between us. Her eyes flickered down to my lips and she hovered, awaiting my permission. I hadn't realised how desperate I was to kiss her, properly, until faced with the decision

"Yes."

She wasted no time closing the gap between us and my breath hitched in my throat as her lips moved against mine. I let my hands fall to her hips as she let hers get tangled in my hair. I tasted her lime-flavoured lip balm as my lips trapped her bottom lip between mine.

We had to break apart for air sooner than I liked, and when we did, I was trapped in her green-grey eyes. I didn't know what she was thinking.

"I tried not to like you like this," she suddenly spoke, her voice soft. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship. But I can't help it, Y/N. I really like you."

I widened my eyes, never believing I'd hear her say these words to me.

"I like you, too," I admitted, and felt a load off my chest as I did. "I have done for a long time now, Aly."

Her beautiful smile graced her lips as she looked down bashfully.

"Do you maybe wanna be my girlfriend?" I asked hopefully.

She looked back up and nodded. "I'd love to."

We both had the same idea and met in the middle, sharing a kiss to seal the deal. I was too excited though, and my smile broke the kiss. She mirrored my expression and that's when I realised just how lucky I truly was.

#alycia debnam carey imagine #alycia debnam carey #alycia debnam carey x reader

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constel-langst-ions · 7 years ago

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Bad Crowd, Better Friends

Wasnt there an au where Lance hung out w a bad crowd but he loved them?? Yeah guess whos writing it? Me.

If the creator of this prompt sees this, let me know! I would’ve tagged you but I cant find the original post :(

Anyways, thank you all so much for the recognition and followers! And thanks @taylor-tut for sharing my writing. Love you all!

(Takes place during S2 I guess, ~~~ is flashback, — is present time)

~~~

Lance sat in a treehouse. He was 14 years old. When he started hanging out with the “bad crowd”.

Sure, the things they did were bad. Drugs, bought from shady dealers in dark alleyways, during the dead of night. Alcohol, stolen from parents unlocked cellars. But they didn’t fight, they didn’t do bad things to people.

But they had a problem, Lance would admit.

He was part of it, yeah. He did drugs, he drank alcohol like the others did. But only because his mind was messed up.

Seriously messed up.

He had depression, it was obvious, but his family didn’t have the money to buy him the needed medication so he could get better.

So, he took it into his own hands. Getting high, getting drunk, saves him from his own mind, a hellhole.

Part of him knew it was bad, that he had an addiction, that he needed to stop. The other half didn’t care. Anything to help him feel alive.

He didn’t have friends in school. He was just the druggie, the kid who would go nowhere in life.

That was until he met a group of kids while getting some shady substance that he didn’t know the name of.

They had been around, and warned him not to buy it. It was overpriced drugs, and dangerous, too.

He joined them that day, becoming part of their group.

~~~

The kids couldn’t have been much older than he was. Or, rather, they were all close in age.

The youngest was 13, a male named Alex. He was caucasian boy, which was unusual in their little commmunity. He was barely making it in school. His skin was fair, and he had freckles in his shoulders and cheeks. He was small and skinny, clearly not eating enough. His hair was a dusty brown, buzzed on the sides, long on top.

The oldest was 16, another boy named Caleb. He had dark, chocolate brown skin and gentle, brown eyes, yet hardened. He had a scar on his jaw.

The second oldest was Ida, who was also 16, younger than Caleb by a few months. Both of them were dropouts. She had long, dark hair and tan skin, slightly darker than Lance’s. Her eyes were blue, but a lighter shade. Baby blue, Lance would call them.

Next was Brett, another dark skinned male. He was 15, and like Alex, barely making it in school. He had failed a grade because of it. His skin was darker than Caleb’s, and he looked intimidating. He stood tall, well over the others. He had green eyes, which Lance liked.

Finally, there was Ronnie, who was 14, like Lance was. He, too, had dropped out of school, not having the willpower or grades to move forward. He was mixed, with an accent. His skin was lighter than Lance’s, but darker than Alex’s. He had brown eyes.

They exchanged contact information and secret codes. They became a group that day.

Soon after, they found a secluded area in the woods, somewhere no one visited. They built a treehouse out of stolen wood planks and nails, which they actually bought.

~~~

Lance was the first to quit doing drugs and abusing alcohol. He was 16 and done with where he was going.

He had raised his grades a year prior to quitting, getting his life back on track.

His friends supported him every step of the way.

Then, they too, started to quit.

First was Alex. He was still struggling in school, but he decided to pull himself together.

Next, Ida. She quit after going to a college party, and to the dismay of Lance and the others, she got drunk and raped.

She was pregnant, and couldn’t afford an abortion. So she quit like Alex and Lance, wanting a good life for her kid.

The boys helped her, every day, even going as far as to scrape together money for check-ups. The ones who could drive, took turns driving her to the clinic.

Caleb, Brett and Ronnie quit at the same time. They had all dropped out long ago, but to make up for it, gained full-time jobs to at least do something productive.

They didn’t entirely escape, though. With Ida being called a whore and a druggie, the boys other slurs, it was hard. But they managed.

Until the day Lance was accepted into the Garrison.

~~~

They had all been in Lance’s room, Ida halfway through her second term.

They met up at eachother’s houses on a regular basis to just talk, or sit in silence and enjoy eachother’s company.

This time, they had been brainstorming baby names, (it’s a girl!) with Ida, all of them excited. All of them were eager to help her, too.

Lance’s mom had walked in, their chattering subsiding.

She walked to Lance and handed him an envelope.

“Here, mi hijo. It’s the Garrison letter.” She walked away with that, humming a tune.

They all expectantly looked at Lance when she left.

He ever so slowly opened the seal, feeling the smooth wax against his finger, and lifted the flap. He pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it.

He read the first line and screamed.

~~~

His friends jumped, startled. They immediately peppered him with questions.

“Did you get in?”

“Oh god, did they deny you?”

“Whats wrong?”

“Is it good news?”

Ida hushed them, smacking each of the boys, except Lance, on the arm. “Let him explain, all of you!”

Lance shakily inhaled. “I got..” he was frowning, the others worried. Did he get in?

Lance’s frown then turned into a smile. “I got accepted into the Garrison as a cargo pilot!”

His friends cheered, Caleb and Ida the loudest.

“Were proud of you, Lance.” Alex sloppily grinned, hugging Lance’s neck.

“Yeah!” The rest of them agreed, hugging him from all sides. Ida was in front of him, the boys careful to not accidently hurt her.

“You’re going to do great things, Lance.” Ida had gently smiled at him, a hand laying on her stomach.

~~~

Lance walked back into his dorm, throwing his bag on his bed, collapsing onto the desk chair. He opened up his labtop, figuring he would have a few hours to chat with his group about his first day at the Garrison, maybe even get a movie in.

Before he could do anything, he got a skype call. He accepted and turned on face cam.

On the other side of the camera, his friends were all there. He got questions thrown his way as soon as his face popped up.

“How’d it go?”

“Have you replaced us yet?”

“Any friends?”

The last thing he heard was, “Ida’s packing up for her hospital stay soon!” It was from Alex, he figured from the young voice.

“What?” Lance gaped.

“Alex!” Ida hissed. “Anyways, yeah. Im getting contractions so I have to go earlier than I planned.”

“Do you have the money?? I can send some down!” Lance fretted, worrying for her.

She laughed. “Chill, Lancey Lance. The boys here already helped me get enough money in for the stay, and the actual birth. I’ll be fine.”

Caleb, Brett, Ronnie and Alex gave thumbs up.

Lance snickered.

“Well, I hope so. Give me a call if anything pops up. I’ll be happy to help.” Lance jolted in his seat, remebering something.

“Oh! That reminds me. Caleb, Brett, Ronnie, or even Alex. Make sure you call me before the baby is due! I want to fly down so I can be there with you guys.”

“Woah, seriously, baby bro? You’d do that for me?” Ida cooed.

Lance winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Uh, Lance? Who are you talking to?” Lance whipped around as the door clicked shut, meeting the eyes of a startled Hunk.

“Oh, hi Hunk. C'mere and meet some of my hometown friends.”

Hunk hesitated. Then, he walked over to Lance, crouching beside the chair. “Uh, h-hello?”

The call crackled with bursts of voices.

“Guys!! Shush!” Ida hissed.

They all did.

“Okay then. Hunk, this is Ida,” she waved, hand on her growing belly, “Caleb, Ronnie, Alex and Brett. I’ve known them for 3 years now.”

Said friends all waved.

“Guys, meet Hunk. He’s my roommate and engineer (?).”

“Well, anyways, I’ll talk to you lot tomorrow. I have homework to do.” He hung up the call an closed his labtop.

~~~ (flashback end)

Lance sighed as he walked into the training room in full paladin armour, bayard at his side. He yawned, tired. He hadn’t gotten a blink of sleep that night.

That was because Pidge had made an accurate calendar of Earth, and Lance had realized bow much he had truly missed.

Including the day where Ida’s daughter was due for birth.

That struck him the hardest, because he remembered his promise to her, and his friends.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He had told them over a skype call. But he did miss it. And it broke his heart.

He was the last one there. He didn’t care, though. The universe could let him have one day where he didn’t feel great.

Well, he felt awful actually. Even more than that. But, who cares?

Not Lance, that’s for damn sure.

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asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 8 years ago

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WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

Zachary Taylor was raised, alongside his younger sister, by a single father after his mother passed away due to complications of an illness. His father was a Christian minister for the local church. Zach and his sister have been devout Christians their whole lives, it’s something that means quite a bit to Zachary because he remembers how much faith meant to his mother. When he was younger, not all of his peers were kind about his father being a “preacher”. They didn’t understand, he kind of gets that now, but kids can be cruel and they’ll pick out the most ridiculous things to belittle another about. For Zach, it happened to be his religion, his father’s position. Annie Pierce, of all people, was one of the kids who took it to extremes. Despite being five years younger than Zachary, still a kid, Annie often acted well beyond her years in terms of her confidence, guts or whatever you wanted to call it. She took offence to Zach when he caught her bullying his younger sister Phoebe, and from then her attention was turned on him. Annie didn’t like people standing up to her. He was in college by this point, though not one of the popular jocks which is probably why she was so bold (then again, he’d heard tales of what she did to Jamie Kirk, so maybe Annie didn’t have limits.)

All Zach wanted was to be left alone, he wasn’t one for childish games, but she was kind of relentless. Called him every name under the sun probably, just made a big deal about how he was beneath her, but honestly Zach could just about shrug it off as long as she left Phoebe alone. He loved his sister very much, always was a bit overprotective of her. The only one of Annie Pierce’s devoted friends that he ever thought showed much remorse for the way he was hounded was Ruby Peterson, probably because she used to be best friends with his sister. When Annie was done with him for the day and got everyone to follow her off, Ruby would sort of offer him this apologetic smile and she spoke to him sometimes when Annie wasn’t around, though the girl just seemed shy beyond words, but he appreciated it anyway. Not that he knew what a nice girl like her was doing hanging around with a person like Annie Pierce. The day he came to find the church completely trashed was the day he lost his temper. He could handle some stupid, nasty remarks but he had no time for that sort of thing. He got angry and marched right up to Annie Pierce and they got into a massive fight. He actually almost punched her in front of everybody, something he’s still ashamed of to this day. Luckily, he didn’t pull a Poppy Hart (she actually had hit Annie), but everyone saw what happened and he was even a suspect in her murder for a little while there. Thankfully, all that is behind him and he just wants to forget about all the drama.

→ Back to Baberton

After Annie and Sophie Baker’s cases had been closed and the killer thrown in prison, and then the other serial killer, Daisy Ramsey, was thrown in prison… everyone thought things would slowly return to normal. For a little while, it seemed they had. Then Evan Johnson was found stabbed to death in his pub and the rumours that it was all starting again were ignited. A lot of people have lost their faith, if they ever had any at all, and Zach knows his dad and everyone else wants to help but he doesn’t see how. What can they do in the face of a murderer? He does have his suspicions that it all connects back to Annie and her little group of friends, especially with some of the things that have come out about them the past few years, but he tries not to judge. Not that he even has much time to think about it with how busy he finds himself most days. When he’s not studying for exams (he left college for a while and then went back more recently to study philosophy and some sciences), he’s helping his father with Sunday school or even helping with arrangements for funerals and weddings to be held in their church. And there are have been a hell of a lot of the former over the last few years. He’s also trying to maneuver his way around a blatant set up. His father is good friends with the Dixon family, who are often in the front row every Sunday, and it’s very obvious they are trying to set Zachary and their daughter Lacey up. He goes along with it, Lacey’s very pretty and everything, but he hardly knows her at all and half the time, at a function or event or dinner, whatever, he gets this feeling that she’s just not interested. She plays the part well but Zach just has this feeling. But he likes spending time with her so, for the time being, he’s happy to play along.

→ What’s His Secret?

Does not appreciate or really accept that his sister is a lesbian. As much as their father seems accepting, Zach himself is not. He loves his sister to pieces but he cannot accept this huge part of her, though he’d never say so out loud. But he is a bit homophobic and he knows realistically that it’s not right because love shouldn’t be such a big deal but it’s something he just can’t seem to shake. The last thing he wants is to lose his sister but he just can’t get past this and isn’t sure how to even start, or if he’ll ever be able to.

Is very into conspiracy theories, at the moment particularly ones involving the town he lives in. He’s part of an online forum where the biggest and most intricate theory of all is that Annie Pierce is secretly alive and is playing the biggest game of all, something that actually ended up seeming like a truth to Zachary when he received a message about his homophobia, from somebody calling themselves “-A”. A for Annie. What Zach doesn’t know is that -A planted the theory for him to find and is messing around with him the way Annie used to when she was alive.

Has always had something of a crush on Ruby Peterson. Which is more like an obsession really. She was always the nicest to him when Annie was being a bitch and she used to be his sister’s best friend. He just grew attached to her but not entirely in the most normal way. His feelings were a bit extreme and intense. Now that she’s been with an older man (her old high school teacher) for a couple years, Zachary has gotten it into his head that she needs “saved” and rescued. And he wants to be her knight in shining armour. He’d probably go to extremes to do it given half a chance. He believes she’s trapped with Charlie Baker and that it’s up to him to set her free. Maybe then they can be together.

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#roleplay #rp #bio rp #town rp #liam hemsworth fc

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oosteven-universe · 7 years ago

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Neverland Return of Hook One-Shot

Neverland: Return of Hook One-Shot Zenescope Entertainment 2017 Written by Dave Franchini Illustrated by Jason Muhr Coloured by Robby Bevard Lettered by Taylor Esposito of Ghost Glyph Studios Neverland was once a beautiful realm of imagination and adventure before the tyrant, a vampire-like being named Pan—who fed on the life force of children—had filled it with fear and servitude. Pan was defeated by Nathan Cross, a former victim of his evil. And with that defeat, Neverland returned to its former glory. Now a new evil is rising, and Cross is being pulled back into the realm that once haunted his very existence. If this is going to be what a new series is going to be like then sign me up! The story that Dave brings us here is not only great for new readers, making this a really good Launch book, but it’s a splendid recap as well to remind everyone what’s come before. For me it really was nice since the last time we saw Neverland is well it’s been some time and lets leave it at that. For those of you who haven’t been reading the franchise should know that this is a Zenescope take on the tale of Neverland where Pan is the bad guy and Hook is the knight in shining armour. Mr. Cross, or Hook, wakes up every night from his own nightmares where he wasn’t able to save his brother from Pan’s vampiric nature. So of course this is how this issue opens as we see him get out of bed and try to wipe the memory away when his whole world turns upside down. Cross is taken from his home, wife and children and is transported to the place his nightmares all began. Of course when Wendy gets up and notices the power core to his hand piece still on the bedside table but no sign of him means she’s going to have to do some work to get him back and that means a trip to Dr. Harlow. Jason and Robby do some very good work on the interiors here. I like that this has that whole comic book feel to it and there’s still both horror and that kind of creative imagination to it that is needed to bing this kind of story to life. I like the use of page layouts with their angles and perspectives that help keep the flow of the story running smoothly and naturally. Seriously while Cross is there in his underwear Wendy and Harlow appear in pirate garb which makes me wonder why these two but not the other. Between the ghost, the crocodile and the backgrounds here we really do get to see a whole lot of what makes this world tick. From a story standpoint what I like about this is that it feels like it’s the beginning of something. A new arc, a new story something that is going to be coming that will forever change the lives of these characters. This has all the earmarks of something that is going to be a tad more tremendous than you originally thought it would. There is something a whole lot larger than what we think happening here and the fact that a defeated Pan is once again thriving and threatening to make Neverland what it was when he was a the height of his power is mysterious and exciting. Though through the actions we see in this marvellous oversized one-shot it would seem that there are more changes in store than you can shake a stick at and it’s the possibility of what could be that lights the fire of imagination so fully here.

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asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 7 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #town rp #bio rp #secrets rp

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asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 7 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #town rp #bio rp #secrets rp #pll rpg

0 notes

asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 7 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #town rp #bio rp #mystery rp

0 notes

asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 7 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #rp #town rp #bio rp

0 notes

asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 7 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #rp #town rp #bio rp

0 notes

asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 7 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #rp #town rp #secrets rp

0 notes

asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 8 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #rp #bio rp #pll rp

0 notes

asecretsummer-rpgpromo · 8 years ago

Photo

WANTED! FC can be changed!

♠ Zachary Taylor is 26 years old and is often confused with Liam Hemsworth. He is Open.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know the whole story.”

→ Background

→ Back to Baberton

→ What’s His Secret?

Main | Plot | Most Wanted | Characters | Ask

#liam hemsworth #roleplay #town rp #pll rp #bio rp

0 notes