#the public image is closer to her choice but I think a lot of it is false bravado you know

[almonddirge]

I don’t know why I’ve seen so many people dislike Furina she’s so funny and I kinda relate to her on some level? Like it’s easy to project my feelings of learning to be an adult and all it’s uncertainties onto her relationship with being an archon idk there’s something there

Like obviously if you understand her character and she’s still not appealing yeah but the way some people talk about her,,,,

[the-fiction-witch]

Mr Crown P4

Media - Morbius Character - Lucien Crown Couple - Lucien Milo X OC Reader - (OC) Anastasia Morton (Assistant) Rating - 18 + Smut - feeling up / ceo & Employee / fingering / forced orgasm / public sex / public fingering / public orgasm / pantiless Word Count - 3092

Lucien shifted in his seat, trying to focus on his food, but his mind was still on her. He couldn't help but sneak glances at her, his eyes tracing over her form, imagining her adorned in the jewels he was going to win.They ate in relative silence for a few moments, Lucien trying to maintain his composure while his mind still reeled from her promise. He stole glances at her, trying to stay casual, but the desire to touch her, to just pull her onto his lap and claim her, was growing harder to restrain. As they finished their meal, Lucien pushed aside his empty plate and leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her.

Once dinner was collected up the auction began, Anastasia took the pen to see who got closet in their guessing game,

Lucien's hands cam one on the back of her chair to wrap around her the other rested comfortably on her thigh, his fingers tracing soft circles on her skin as they watched the auction progress. He was only partially paying attention, his mind still on her and the promise she had made. Every so often, he would glance down at her, his gaze tracing over her features before returning to the action at the front of the room. He leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "See anything else you like, darling?"

"Only one other thing" she cooed her hand coming down to squeeze his thigh

Lucien inhaled sharply as her hand squeezed his thigh, her touch sending a surge of heat through him. He chuckled softly, trying to keep outwardly cool and composed, even though her touch was driving him wild. He shifted closer, his lips against her ear again, his voice low and rough. "Only one, hm? And what might that be?"

"lot 101, the little ski lodge. I think it's cute not sure why someone's selling it"

Lucien chuckled at her choice, his hand subconsciously squeezing her thigh in response. "A ski lodge? Is my little assistant secretly a fan of winter sports?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. He looked at the booklet, at the listing for Lot 101, the images of the cozy little ski lodge,

"no, I just like snow. It's cute log fires, hot tub, big fur-covered beds, it seems so warm and cosy' she chuckled not thinking for a moment he'd be taking her wanting it seriously

Lucien's smirk widened at her description. The more she spoke, the more he could picture it. Soft blankets, a roaring fireplace, a cosy bed covered in fur... and her, wrapped in nothing but the fur covering the bed. He could feel the desire stirring even more strongly within him. The thought of having her in that setting was too tempting to resist. He shifted closer, his hand still on her thigh, and leaned in to whisper in her ear "You really like the sound of that, darling? Maybe I should bid on it for you."

"Lucien. No." She said squeezing his thigh, "It's much too expensive and what are you going to do with it anyway?"

Lucien chuckled at her protest, his hand still resting on her thigh. He knew she'd object, of course, she was too practical, too sensible. "Don't 'Lucien no' me, darling. I'm a billionaire, remember? Price is no object." He paused for a moment, a smirk on his lips. "And as for what I'm going to do with it... I can think of a few ideas. All involving you, of course."

"Your going to buy a hundred thousand dollar ski lodge in Canada? Just because I think it looks cosy? It would stay empty most of the time anyway it's not worth it. Besides I'm more than happy with just the pretty jewels, even if you don't have to get me them either"

Lucien chuckled at her persistence. Of course, she would argue and insist there was no need to buy the cottage. She was always practical like that, even when he desperately wanted to buy her something extravagant. "Darling, you know I don't care about the practicality. It's not about the money, it's about the experience. The idea of having a romantic getaway spot, just for us. Somewhere where we can escape, just the two of us, in the midst of the cold snowy mountains. Doesn't that sound appealing?"

"it does... But neither of us even skis"

Lucien chuckled at her counter. His hand moved up her thigh, his touch becoming more intimate. "Darling, who said we'd be snowboarding? It's all about the ambiance, the setting. The skiing is irrelevant, the beauty of the mountains, the cosy, candlelit bedroom, the hot tub... the possibilities are endless."

"I'm not going to argue" she gave in,

Lucien smiled triumphantly, knowing he had won that battle. He knew she'd given in, even though she was probably only humouring him. But that didn't matter, the thought of having a private getaway with her was too enticing to pass up. He ran his hand up and down her thigh, his touch becoming more seductive. "Good. No more arguments then. I’ll have a cute little ski lodge, and I'll have my gorgeous assistant all to myself in her cute little jewels."

"Lot 75, set of ring, necklace, and bracelet from 1843. Donated by the fashion history museum. The reserve is at two thousand dollars" the heads of the gala explained "Do we have a bid?"

Lucien leaned forward, his hand still on her thigh. his gaze snapped up to the screen, his eyes narrowing in focus. He waited for the bidding to begin, his mind racing with thoughts of her wearing the jewels. He didn't wait long before raising his paddle. "Two thousand." Lucien's voice was firm, his paddle held high. The other bidders seemed to hesitate, some backing down at the sound of his voice. He didn't wait for a response, his gaze focused on the stage, his mind on the jewellery he knew she would look so perfect in.

a few small bids come through but no one really that interested "Lot 75, sold to Lucien Crown for three thousand four hundred dollars”

Lucien felt a surge of satisfaction as his bid was declared the winner. When the gavel fell, announcing his victory, he felt a rush of triumph. He turned to look at her, a sly smile on his face. "Looks like you'll be getting those jewels after all, darling."

"you didn't have to do that Lucien" she blushed

Lucien's smirk widened at her blushing. He loved seeing her flustered, the way she tried to remain composed even though he could see the effect he had on her. He ran his hand further up her thigh, his touch becoming more possessive. "I know I didn't have to, darling. But I wanted to. Besides, I know you'll look absolutely gorgeous wearing them."

"thank you Lucien" she smiled kissing his cheek as secretly as she could

Lucien's breath hitched as she kissed his cheek, the unexpected gesture sending a jolt of desire through him. He reached up to touch the spot where her lips had just been, his fingers lingering on the skin as if trying to capture the feeling of her kiss. "You're welcome, darling. Just promise me one thing."

"yes?"

Lucien leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His hand moved up her thigh, his touch becoming more firm, more possessive. His gaze locked onto hers, his eyes dark with desire. "Promise me that you'll wear them tomorrow. And nothing else."

"I promise" She nodded before sipping her drink

Lucien felt a surge of desire at her promise, the thought of walking into his office tomorrow and seeing her wearing nothing but the jewels he had bought her was enough to drive him wild. He clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control, his eyes roaming over her form as she sipped her drink. "You know, you really know how to drive a man crazy, darling. The thought of seeing you in those jewels, my jewels, tomorrow... I might not be able to concentrate on work."

"When do you?" She teased him

Lucien chuckled, his hand tightening on her thigh in response to her playful tone. He leaned in closer, his lips near her ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. "You cheeky little minx. You love teasing me, don't you? You know exactly how I react to you, you know how you drive me wild with desire."

she chuckled not confirming or denying it as she knew both would only tease him more, when attention turned once more to the auction as pictures came up of the ski lodge

The lodge was a wood, steel and glass modern style lodge in Canada, a large master suite with a fireplace, jet bath and walk-in shower, two smaller guest suites, a large kitchen dinner, an open plan living room with a large fireplace, a balcony over the mountains with a hot tub and sauna. All of it is impressive and beautiful

Lucien's eyes were drawn to the screen, his gaze fixed on the images of the ski lodge. His first thought was that it was perfect, the setting, the furnishings, the secluded location. It would be a private paradise, a perfect getaway for them.

He could already picture it in his mind, the two of them tucked away in the cozy cabin, the fireplace crackling, the hot tub steaming in the cold air. But then he remembered her practicality, her insistence that it was too expensive and impractical. He turned to her, his gaze watching her reaction as she looked at the screen. He could see the hint of desire in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she took in the luxurious interior. He knew she wanted it, even though she would never admit it out loud. So he decided to play his hand, to try and convince her that it was worth the price.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, darling? Picture yourself there, sitting in front of the fire, the snow falling outside, the mountains in the background..."

"it is nice" Anastasia answered,

Lucien noticed her hesitation, the way she was trying to hold back her true feelings. He knew her too well, knew that she was fighting against her own desires. He couldn't resist teasing her, his hand gently squeezing her thigh.

"Just 'nice'?" he repeated, his voice laced with mock disappointment. "I thought you'd be a little more enthusiastic than that, darling. Isn't it picturesque? Romantic? Exactly the kind of place where two lovers could spend a passionate weekend?"

she let out a long sigh half to hide her excitement breaths at his hand moving higher and the other half at the fact he may actually do this and buy it. "... It would be a very cosy place, and I'm sure Christmas there would be picture perfect" she agreed "but it's alot of money, it's far away, we have alot of work with the business, it's far from... Your doctors and it would be dangerous if something happened which one ice and snow could very well happen" she reasoned with him "But, I'm your assistant. It's your money Mr Crown"

Lucien smirked as she tried to reason with him, listing all the practical reasons why buying the ski lodge would be a bad idea. He knew she was right, of course. It was a lot of money, it was far away, and they did have a lot of work to do. But he could also see the desire in her eyes, the way her breath hitched as he touched her thigh, and he knew he had her almost convinced. "You make valid points, darling," he said, feigning concern. "But..." He paused for a moment, his gaze on the screen, looking at the images of the cozy cabin in the woods. He could picture it so vividly, the two of them snuggled up in front of the fire, the snowflakes falling outside, the view of the mountains in the distance… He could feel the excitement building within him, his desire to have this place growing with every second. He turned back to her, his eyes glinting with determination. “It is worth it, a little place just for you and me, and I would pay so, so much to get you alone somewhere so perfect. Our own little romantic paradise.”

"it's your money," she said

Lucien chuckled at her words, his hand giving her thigh a possessive squeeze. He knew she was humouring him, indulging his impulsive decision to buy the lodge. He didn't care, though. "Yes, it is my money," he agreed with a sly grin. "And I'll spend it however I damn well please. And if that means buying a cosy little ski lodge for my gorgeous assistant and myself, then so be it." his hand slipping up under her sill dress touching her even higher than the slit in her dress he got a wicked idea resting his hand there as the bidding began

"Shall we start the bidding at 130." Immediately bids came in of course from Lucien himself but each time the price went up his hand slid a little inch higher under her silk dress

Lucien chuckled huskily, his hand still moving higher up her thigh, his touch becoming more intimate as the bidding started on the lodge. With each raise of the other bids, Lucien's hand inched higher up her thigh, his touch becoming more possessive, more intimate. He could feel her body responding to his touch - the way she tensed, the way she took a sharp breath, the way her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she quickly composed herself. He knew he was pushing the boundaries of propriety, and he didn't care. His hand stroked her thigh as he reached it rubbing his thumb hard against her hip bone, his fingers trailing across her searching for the strap of her panties but he didn't find it for a moment he was puzzled before her reactions became so obvious to him, he couldn't feel panties because she wasn't wearing any in that dress.

Lucien's eyes widened when he realized that she wasn't wearing any panties under her dress. The revelation sent a jolt of desire through him, his mind immediately imagining what else she was wearing under the silk fabric. He could feel her body shiver under his touch, her hips moving just slightly as he searched for the strap of her panties, only to find that there wasn't one. He let out a low, strangled moan, his hand frozen for a moment as he let the revelation sink in.

As the bidding began to slow, it seemed like Lucien was going to win the lodge. The other bidders began to drop out, the number on screen getting higher and higher. Lucien's mind was racing, his thoughts focused on one thing - Anastasia.

He could feel her body quivering under his touch, responding to the sensation of his hand under her dress. He could see her biting her lip, trying to maintain her composure in front of everyone. And he knew, in that moment, that he had to have her.

She coughed to cover a whimper as he moved his hand from her thigh to begin touching her mound, his smirk wide as he experienced the pleasure of a high adrenaline auction and that his assistant wasn't wearing anything under her dress, once he knew that of course he was going to take advantage, touching her enough to make her whimper "Lucien..." She gasps quietly

Lucien felt a thrill run through him as he heard her whimper, her breath catching in her throat as he touched her under her dress. He smiled slyly, his confidence growing as he felt her melt under his touch as he slid his fingers from her mound to her clit, "Shh, darling. Not so much arguing now, are you?" he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she pressed against his hand, the way she gasped his name. He moved his hand more deliberately and immediately found what made him smirk all the more as his fingers felt the softness of her skin and the wetness he caused there

"Lucien... Please.." she whimpers fighting a war with herself on if she should or shouldn't do this

Lucien chuckled huskily. He loved the way she whispered his name, the way she pleaded with him, her voice ragged with desire. "Please, what, darling? You have to use your words."

He moved his hand deeper, his touch becoming more deliberate, more insistent as he fingers circle her pussy and his thumb circling her sensitive clit and sending shivers through her body.

she gasped almost letting a moan slip out as her thighs shifted widening a little

Lucien felt her thighs widen at his touch, and he took it as an invitation to go further. He moved closer to her, his body pressing against hers as he continued to touch her intimately. "That's it, darling. Don't hold back. I want to hear you." He moved his fingers inside her in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she squirmed against his hand, her breath coming in gasps and little whimpers that she tried to muffle. He loved the sounds she was making, the way she was giving in to the sensations he was arousing. "You're so sensitive, darling. So sensitive and so responsive." his touch became more insistent, more demanding.

she almost squealed and he knew it was only a matter of time, and as it turned out not long at all

"Sold!" The auctioneer called out

Just as he did Anastasia tensed up grabbing Lucien's suit sleeve as she clenched and moaned into his ear just as everyone applauded concealing her noise as she reached her orgasm having to hide it on her face,

"The lodge, sold to Lucien Crown for 678 thousand dollars"

Lucien was barely aware of the auctioneer's words, the cheers from the crowd, or the sound of the next item being announced. His focus was entirely on her, the way she tensed up and grabbed his suit sleeve, her body shuddering as she came undone under his touch. As the applause filled the room, Lucien let out a low, satisfied chuckle, his hand still under her dress, his touch gentle and possessive. "678 thousand dollars well spent," he whispered in her ear.

"yes sir ..." She gasped leaning her head on his shoulder as she gasps her skin positively glowing from her orgasm, 

[jadetheblueartist]

I have lil questions about spiders web widens!

Does Frida mainly live in the Hotel or the Battle Nexus (I would assume the battle nexus would have lodging)? And if she lives down in the hidden city would Frida be allowed to sneak up to the surface? Or does Big mama keep her close at all times?

Also is it known to the public that Frida is Big Mama’s daughter?

Alsoooooo is there any lil fun fact(s) you’d like to share about Camille?

Hi, Moo! Thanks for the questions ^^ this was a really well timed ask bc I was thinking about all of these today so yay

This was very long so imma put a cut hahaha

1. So. What I’ve been thinking so far is that Frida (and Big Mama) would live in the hotel. I believe that one room with the lava lamp to be hers, as I’ve probably mentioned before but let’s just pretend I didn’t. But today I was watching “Battle Nexus: New York” and at the end, after the shredder attack, the entire hotel crumbles to the ground. I did not notice this before so unless it’s in the last two episodes that I plan on watching tomorrow, I guess they won’t be living there during SWW? I think they would be almost done rebuilding but would be in an alternate place probably. Mama’s web of resources is quite expansive so they probably will have some place else I’ll figure out the details to later.

When she was an active participant in the Nexus, Frida would have lived there. This was probably several months, but at the point of the story, she’s a couple years retired from the Nexus. Not by choice (though she would have chosen that), Big Mama just felt she was getting too much attention and didn’t want her to develop an ego.

Wherever their new living space is, it probably is in the Hidden City, but Friday doesn’t get the opportunity to roam. Her job is to assist Big Mama, and Frida is a bit of a workaholic. Never leaves her side except for when Mama sends her on errands. Big Mama has quite the hold on her, but it can’t stop Frida from taking an extra second to people watch… she has quite the interest in them.

2. Frida’s public image is a bit choppy. She’s a sort of legend in that not many people know much about her and lots of info seems to conflict. Many know Big Mama has a child- it’s in her name after all- but they can’t often put a face to the child. She grew up around the hotel but didn’t do much apart from her studies. Then once she got to an age Mama deemed old enough to fight, she became known as a warrior and eventually a champion. Once she had proved herself (or really, once Mama felt threatened by the amount of attention Frida was getting), she retired from the Battle Nexus and began her duties at the Hotel. She became known by the other staff members as “Big Sis”- no longer the child they had seen grow up, now a seasoned killing machine. Once the opportunity arose, Frida became Mama’s assistant until it was her main and most important role. When she makes appearances in public, her masked persona is known for her strength and brutality. When she is unmasked, she is the daughter of Big Mama- prestigious and powerful. Very few know the true extent of who she actually is. And wow this is getting long…

3. Hehehe I was just wanting to mention this ^^ I don’t think I’ve discussed Camille’s mystic abilities. In SWW, there is a distinct difference between mystic stuff and the Hamato ninpo. What Frida uses is her ninpo; Camille has had no such luck with ninpo stuff though (being alone for most of her life and all that). She does, however, possess a knack for mystic stuff and has some “natural” mystic powers. I say natural bc it’s as natural as it can be when you were made in a lab.

So first, she has psychometric precognition and retrocognition. That means when she can see the future or past (specifically relating to the individual) when she touches people. This results in her greeting people by just grabbing their faces (“I know more stuff the closer I touch to their head”). It’s not consistent though. For instance, it doesn’t always happen. She may touch someone and get nothing then do it again and oh wow so many visions all at once. She also can’t tell if it’s future stuff or past stuff which leads to lots of confusion.

Second, it’s not an innate power but Draxum taught her a telekinetic spell which is one of the few things she managed to remember from that time. She has the spell running almost constantly bc it’s very convenient and plays into her fighting style a lot.

[thcpresidcnt-archived]

I'm sincerely puzzled about your choice to keep that girl you call your "girlfriend" with you. If you wanted a partner, in any form, I am certain that you could do better. Much better. And if you wanted a pet, because that's what she seems to be, a *pet*...There are plenty of actual pets that are less annoying, less high maintenance, less harmful for your public image, smarter and more aesthetically pleasant too. If I were you, I'd consider getting rid of her and replacing her with something more suitable.

-- A personally concerned party

@evilmcg {mentioned}

Neatly folded on the president's desk, laid a piece of paper. A note. Perhaps brought in by one of his guard Ricks. Sent in from who knows where. Though, it intrigued him nonetheless. The powerful teen had a lot of enemies. Some of which were Ricks and he knew better than to think a Rick wrote it; for obvious reasons.

Sat down at the chair, scooting closer, he unfolded the letter. His eyes skimmed through the words. Each word amusing him the further he went down the page. His lips curled in a grin. Almost bursting out with laughter, but holding back.

And when he read it in it's entirety, he set it down. He leaned forward, elbows on top of the wooden surface, hands creating a shelf where his chin rested upon. As his feet kicked idly in a very sarcastic, gleefully manner.

"My, my, it seems like I have a secret admirer who's jealous," At least, it read as such and it inflated that ego of his. "I'm awfully flattered, especially since they think that they could do better."

The tone of the note wouldn't be analyzed. He didn't want to know who wrote it. There wasn't any point. Not when he was taken. And, perhaps, if he knew -- he would just laugh in that person's face.

[percontaion-points]

Jocelyn's Choice chapter 5

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 5

"In any case, my parents would be happy to fund your education."

 "What? No, I could never accept that," I said. "It's very nice of you to offer, but please don't ask them to do that."

 "They already offered."

 "Why would they do that?" 

"Because they can. Jocelyn, we have so much, and my parents like to give back." 

"I'm not a charity case," I said, annoyed.

Holy fucking shit. Do you know how many doors going to a good university can open for you? 

Bitch, it’s not even about the college itself, but the NETWORKING. JFC she is STUPID. 

/I say this like she isn’t going to end up pregnant in a few months and probably end up not even going to college, full stop. 

"It's just that, I'm fine with my decision to stay here. Max needs me, and I'm not ready to leave."

Max is a goddamned grown-ass man. He can fucking put his own frozen dinners into the microwave! He doesn’t need his child to be his mummy. 

*Excuse me… His daughter. Because let’s be honest here: if it was his son, his son wouldn’t be fucking taking care of him. 

"First, she was hanging around here chasing after Evan, and then you come home and now it's all you. She doesn't belong in our world. She sees an opportunity to get a better life, and she doesn't care which one of you gives it to her. Have you seen where she lives? What kind of life she comes from? Her mother didn't even stick around."

Seriously bitch? Attacking somebody for being abandoned when they were a baby? That’s tacky and low.

"When I was two and Brenna was six months old . . . ." He hesitated, and he looked pained, so I took his hand. "She was killed in a car accident."

[...]

"When she was killed"—he looked at the photograph—"my dad hired Sarah as our nanny. She came to us at a very crucial time. Brenna and I were babies, and he had just been promoted to head surgeon, one of the youngest in the hospital's history, so there he was, left with two babies and a very demanding job. My mother's family was from Texas, and she was an only child, and her parents couldn't come here and help. Sarah was a godsend, for all of us."

Obviously, I don’t know what was going on in the lives of his bio-mum’s parents. But holy fucking shit. I would drop fucking EVERYTHING to be there for my grandkids if my only child had recently died.

"From what I've seen when we're in public, most of those girls were happy to let you take advantage of them."

 "True." He sighed. "I never took what wasn't offered, and most of the time, I let them know that it would never go further than one or two nights, but still, I hurt a lot of girls, Julia being one of them."

Having read way too many “romances” along the lines of 50 Shades and even Beautiful Disaster (even though I’m only a few chapters in), I can assure you that the bar is on the ground with this one. 

“At least he’s not assaulting them.” Why is the bar set there? It fucking shouldn’t be. 

"I'll keep that in mind." He took my hand and pulled me down the stairs and into the garage. This is going to be such a cool afternoon!

Chapter 5 summary: Jocelyn is applying for community college when Alex pointedly tells her that there are other schools she could attend closer to Yale. However, being the only child of an overgrown manbaby who can’t even heat up his own leftovers, Jocelyn is of the opinion that she needs to take care of her father. 

Alex is trying to convince her that she really doesn’t, that his family has offered to pay for her to attend a good school… When Brenna comes in. She says all of this stuff about how Jocelyn is nothing more than a gold digging whore who’s making her way through the Jordan family. Obviously, this is deeply upsetting and Jocelyn storms out, but Alex chases after her. He tells her that his sister was out of line, and that he’s going to tell his parents about this. Jocelyn knows that he doesn’t think of her like that, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. 

They then randomly start talking about Sarah, whom Alex says is actually his step-mum. He says that his and Brenna’s bio-mum was killed in a car accident when he was 2 and Brenna was 6 months. His father had recently been promoted at the hospital, so he hired Sarah as the live-in nanny. One thing led to another, and now they’re married. She’s obviously Evan’s mother. 

They go back to talking about what Brenna said. Alex says that he knows that he’s a bit of a player, but he hasn’t been that serious about any girl. Full stop. He then tries to distract her by taking her out on his motorbike. 

[goneadrift]

@obsessedwithzoyalai Ok now that HURTS, thank you for the image 🤣

I'm always here for angst so here we go. Why Nikolai would demote Zoya? Get ready for lots of ramblings under the cut 😅

Option A - misunderstanding.

Tbh I find it hard to believe that in KoS timeline there could be a minor misunderstanding that they couldn't resolve between each other. We kinda saw how Nikolai was letting Zoya off the hook for things that others won't get away with. (pls keep in mind that i still did finish RoW, lol)

Unless... it was something that became public knowledge. Some implication, no matter how false, that was too damning and Nikolai had no choice but to punish Zoya - otherwise his reign would seem even shakier than it already was.

Imagine Nikolai blaming himself for being so unfair to Zoya, unable to protect his closest confidant. As for Zoya... imo she could initially accept her fate if that meant helping Nikolai. However, at some point the wasted potential and unfulfilled ambitions would torn her. And no matter how understanding she was of Nikolai's position, she might grow to despise him for that decision. So of course they must resolve this situation before it came to that 😁

Option B - some genuine disagreement

What if in order to protect Nikolai's reign Zoya actually went a tad too far? Did something that Nikolai couldn't justify even to himself?

Again, tbh I think they're both morally ambiguous in somewhat similar/synchronized amount so if Zoya did something more disturbing, Nikolai would match her unhingement.

But if he didn't, then the inner turmoil would be on his side again - what mental gymnastics he must do to see Zoya's point and forgive her? This sort of brings us closer to the Darkling/Alina dynamic 🤔 So for this scenario personally I'd prefer them being both deranged, Bonnie and Clyde style 🤣 And for temporal demotion to be like a power play (cough, cough, foreplay) for them.

You're welcome to add more scenarios (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

I just remembered that when I watched Shadow & Bone for the first time, I didn't like Zoya for a very dumb reason. The dumb reason is that sometimes I have trouble to tell faces apart from each other. And I mixed her up with that other girl, Fruzsi. I thought they're the same person. So stupid XD

[petri808]

If you're open for nalu requests, can you write a smut fic where nalu goes to a lingerie store because lucy wants to try on some lingerie and natsu ends up getting aroused? But if you can't it's fine just ignore this ask😊

Hi Nony, this is the last request I’ll do. Decided to save this for @thenaluarchive Sinfully Nalu event Mirror prompt. What did Lucy expect by dragging Natsu lingerie shopping?

“I’ve just got one more stop to make.” Lucy pointed towards the other side of the mall.

“Ugh…” Natsu’s shoulders dropped, “but we’ve been here for 2 hours already, Lucy, and I’m getting hungry.”

“I’ll spring for lunch. Anything you want.”

“I’m holding you to it,” he grumbled, but allowed her to pull him forward.

Natsu knew the mall well enough to know that the section they were heading towards were mostly women’s clothing stores— definitely not where he wanted to be. All these fancy clothes, and accessories, and… stuff that his girlfriend loved to wear. Sure, he didn’t complain cause it made her happy, he just didn’t wanna shop for it. Forever twenty something, Cache or Channel— whatever, “oh, uh-uh, no way,” he jerked them to a halt. “I ain’t going in there.”

“It’s just Victoria’s Secret.”

“Well Victoria can keep her secret. Lucy you’re crazy if you think I’m going in a women’s lingerie store!”

Lucy turned to face, then grabbed both of Natsu’s hands, holding them together close to her chest. “Please,” her eyes begged. “I need you to tell me what you think will be nice on me.”

Thinking about his girl, in lingerie, while standing in a mall was *not* the image Natsu wanted conjuring in his mind. But between the soft, puppy-dog expression, and her whimpering pleading— he was powerless to turn Lucy down. He sighed with a whine. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay!” She giggled, kissed his cheek, and took his hand again, entwining their fingers together. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Yeah, uh-huh, right… Painless.

As they walked down the rows and racks of lingerie, Natsu hummed in his head as a distraction. Bras, panties. Low cut, high cut, thongs, g-strings. Sets, individual pieces. Lace, satin, cotton. So many choices! He let the colors blend in his vision, the scents of brand-new clothing mixed with perfumes sold, or miscellaneous accessories. How do women pick anything when there’s so many options? Give him a t-shirt and jeans and he was good to go.

Every so many picks, Lucy would ask his opinion. ‘Yeah, that’s nice. No, that looks itchy. I like that color. Eww, it doesn’t match you.’ Finding her size in the styles she wanted wasn’t always easy, but after 30 minutes, Lucy had half a dozen or so items to try on. So, they head towards the fitting rooms.

Natsu stopped in front of the doors, and readied himself to stand around and wait—

“You’re coming in with me.” Lucy tugged on his hand. “I need your final opinion.”

Up until now, Natsu had managed to avoid thinking about anything even remotely related to sex, but now?! “Uh-uh, no way!”

“Please…” Lucy turned on the pouty lip-action and puppy-dog eyes again. “It’s not like you won’t see me in them later.”

Natsu gulped hard as the naughty images were unlocked. “Are you trying to kill me in public?”

“Pfft, no,” she giggled. “Stop exaggerating this.”

‘You have no idea, woman…’ “Alright, fine. But don’t blame me if anything happens in there.” Because if the twitch in his pants and slight bulge growing was any indication, it wouldn’t be what she’d be expecting.

“Tch.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Natsu, you’ll see.”

The dressing room was a lot more spacious than he was used to seeing. Men’s fitting rooms, at least the ones he’s been in are like closets with just one full length mirror, and maybe a small bench inside. This one could easily fit them both, with wrap around mirrors to catch every angle. It had a small, cushioned bench along one wall, and a couple of hooks on the inside of the door. But most noteworthy was the fact it was a fully enclosed room— not those partial-length doors at lower-quality stores. It was very, very private.

Natsu sat down on the bench and closed his eyes while Lucy fiddled with her options. He could hear the plastic and metal hangers going up on the hooks, as well as the sounds of his girlfriend shedding her clothing. His mouth suddenly felt dry… Lucy’s voluptuous body bared for him to see with only her regular panties left on— he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. ‘Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!’

“Ready— Natsu, silly,” Lucy giggled. “How are you gonna tell me if it’s good or not if you can’t see?”

“No.”

Lucy threaded her fingers gingerly through his hair. “Just one peak…”

‘Fuck…’ he groaned as the tightening in his shorts grew uncomfortable. “One peak.”

Natsu opened his eyes and immediately slammed them shut again from the screaming bra and panties glued to her frame. A sheer red with solid fabric only over the nipples and a strip covering her crotch. So much flesh revealed in these outfits, was there even a point to wearing anything at all?

“Great!” His voice squeaked out. “Looks fine.”

Her giggles only added to his demise. The sounds of more fabric rustling, and the twitch in his shorts… Natsu shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t. Lucy had grabbed about six of seven different pieces to try, and this was only the beginning. She was too damn sexy, and he swore, derived pleasure out of torturing him like this! Ugh, his cock was so hard right now…

“Okay, next piece,” Natsu heard her say. “I’m not sure about it, cause the color doesn’t seem to look good on me.”

Tch, it could be multi-colored polka dots and Lucy would still be a man’s wet dream. He cracked open one eye. It was a dark green, combo with frilled lace along the waistband. Natsu gulped hard as she did a turn around to reveal a thong and curvy swell of her backside.

“You do realize I’m biased, right?” Natsu blurted out. “Everything looks good on you to me.”

“Awww,” Lucy bent down and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I still think I’ll add this to the maybe pile,” she spoke as she started removing the pieces. “I think you’ll really like the next one I found; it has these cute flames on them.”

“You know what I’d prefer to see?” Natsu questioned, for he was done holding back.

Lucy stopped mid-way, bent slightly over with the thong down to her thighs. “What?”

Without answering her, Natsu got off the bench and started helping her take the thong off.

“Natsu, what are you—”

Once off, he moved onto her regular panties down.

“Nat— s-stop!” Lucy grabbed for his hands, but she couldn’t do much without twisting or tripping. “What are you do—”

“Keep your voice down.” He tugged those off too leaving her exposed from the waist down.

“Natsu this isn’t funny!” She seethed in an exasperated whisper.

“Neither is this,” he gestured at the bulge in his shorts. Guiding her against the mirrored wall as he spoke. “You said I could choose whatever I wanted for lunch, and I’ve decided to put you on the menu.”

Lucy whimpered when she felt the cold mirror against her bare skin. “But we’re in public.”

“I warned you didn’t I…” Natsu leaned in with a whisper, cheek to cheek. “Then I suggest you not make any noise,” his words wisp out, warm breath fanning down the barren skin as his lips burn a trail over her neck. Lucy dug her fingers into his hair, holding on but not stopping him as he moved lower.

His stops were brief, lips ghosting burning marks along her chest, a mountainous journey over the pillowy bosoms, a few licks against the pert nipples, and lower… down … snaking over her torso to what he was truly after. “Breathe, baby,” Natsu teased at her halted, bated breathing. “Just look forward and watch.”

She sucked in a gulp of air and stared forward at the mirrored image of Natsu going down on her. It was strange to literally watch every move he made like a voyeur living through another’s body. Lucy’s fingers tightened their grip on his hair in anticipation as he spread her legs a little wider…

“Mmm,” he mused in thought on how to get the best angle. “Hold to me,” Natsu suggested, and before she could reply, lifted Lucy’s left leg, and rested it on his shoulder. “Perfect…”

Natsu dove right in, latching his mouth onto the moist folds he knew so well, humming at the quick squeak his girl couldn’t catch in time. But he knew from the pull on his scalp exactly what she was experiencing. He kept one hand on her raised hip, while the fingers of his other toyed around the edge of her wet opening. His tongue pressed and circled around her clit, sucking, palpating, interspersed with soothing flicks and long strokes to lap up the growing sap gathering in the area. He closed his eyes as he relished in the warmth oozing over his face from her beautiful sex.

Heaven help her, Lucy couldn’t stop staring at that mirror… her gripped fingers to his hair and nails digging into his shoulder for dear life from the seasoned oral ministrations that slowly undid her sanity. Just his tongue alone… but the teasing fingers… Oh! Oh— Her thighs clenched to the sides of Natsu’s head as she felt one, then two fingers slipped through her walls. Lucy’s body arched slightly, and head tilted back as those fingers began swiftly pumping.

“Natsu…” Lucy moaned softly through sealed lips. She could feel his grin against her flesh, hear the squishing sounds, and smell the light scent of her extreme arousal. Damn him…

In a race against time, Natsu pumped fast and hard while his mouth and tongue devoured Lucy’s sex and sanity with an intensity to rival any known battle for supremacy. Each passing second, drawing the heated coil at her core closer to snapping. Her legs trembled, yet clenched and stiffened as his fingers pummeled, bumping the swollen sex being driven to his knuckles reach. He could feel Lucy start unraveling and held firmly to her hip bone as the jerky spasms rocked her body in orgasmic euphoria.

“Stop, stop, stop—” Lucy clawed at his back and neck as she whimpered from the immense pressure boiling in her body, and radiant moisture pooled in her eyes. “Please… enough, Natsu my legs are gonna give out.”

After giving her pussy a few more licks to clean up the excess juices, Natsu finally obliged and put down Lucy’s leg, then stood up while still supporting her as she caught her breath. He licked around his lips and cleaned off his fingers. “Best lunch in the world,” he grinned.

“Oof!” Lucy playfully slapped his chest with a short laugh. “Not what I’d meant. And now I don’t have time to try on the rest.”

“Why not?”

Lucy started putting on her regular clothes. “We’ve been in here for too long, it’ll be suspicious.”

“Tch, then just buy all of it if you like them, cause I’m telling you they’ll all look great on you.”

She glared at him. “Fine, but after pulling that stunt, now you owe me lunch!”

Natsu shrugged and grabbed all the hangers of clothing. “Okay, since you’ll need your strength later.”

“Later?”

The widest seedy grin bloomed on Natsu’s face. “You’ll see…”

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Okay, this one’s been done already by other blogs and I understand that not every writer wants to do the same prompt as another so if you’re not comfortable with this then absolutely stay in your comfy zone. I just think it’s fun to see different interpretations

But basically, Civilian is unknowingly dating Villain (as in, Civilian doesn’t know that villain is a criminal), and Villain is introduced to Civilian’s brother, Hero. Hero is terrified that Villain is going to hurt Civilian the entire time, but Villain just keeps on showing lots of sweet affection to Civilian (Hero and Villain recognize each other but Civilian is clueless of both their “jobs”). It’s up to you whether or not Villain actually loves Civilian or is just taunting/threatening Hero :)

Wow that was long my bad

Sorry this took me like twelve years to get to... @glowing-alpaca it won’t let me tag you... idk why🤷🏽‍♀️

Ok yes I’ve seen a few of these, so I took the general principle and made it Civilian’s POV eehehehe

hope you enjoy:)

*special thanks to @im-a-wonderling and @watercolorfreckles for the beta reads and all your amazing help on this one!!*

———————————————

Civilian shifted from foot to foot, rubbing her left wrist as she tried to focus on the conversation swirling around her. Her limbs felt lead-heavy and numb, deadweights that she wasn’t sure what to do with.

She clasped her hands together in front of her, then let them hang by her sides. Then clasped them in front of her again.

Her breathing felt loud in her ears, and a few of the patrons glanced in her direction. Could they hear her breathing?

Her eyes darted to the entrance for the hundredth time. Her brother was late. Hero had promised to be here early—he knew how she felt about crowds. And since he was the one who insisted her first art show be public, he’d reassured her he’d stay by her side the whole time.

The show had started over an hour ago.

“Well, Civilian?”

Her eyes snapped away from the door and back to the circle of patrons around her. Her stomach sloshed cold. They were all looking at her, their stares burning holes.

“Sorry? What was that?” Her stomach continued to twist and writhe. Now they all knew she’d been distracted.

Did they think she was ignoring them? Had she been rude?

She’d only glanced at the door for a moment…

An older man shook his head as his companion repeated her question about her choice to use different mediums to portray the same image.

She answered the best she could, gesturing to the wall beside her, which was filled with a dozen paintings and drawings of the cityscape—some created with ink, other with oil, acrylic, watercolor, or charcoal—she’d used them all.

She rubbed her wrist again as she tried to explain how she’d used the different mediums.

A few in the circle nodded their heads, but her heart was pounding and doubt nagged at her as she spoke. Was she talking too much? Not enough? Was what she was saying stupid?

She stumbled over her words, unease crawling beneath her skin.

She looked down, unable to complete her thought.

“I think it’s a marvelous technique.”

Hero looked up sharply as the deep voice continued, covering the awkward pause she’d created.

“...to get to look at a wall full of paintings, all capturing the same image but each conveying a different mood or emotion.”

Her rescuer was sharply dressed: his dark hair carefully styled, his suit perfectly tailored, and his gold watch designer. Combined with his confident posture, his appearance practically screamed “lawyer,” same as her brother. But while Hero was a public defense attorney, crusading against a flawed system, the man in front of her was probably what Hero would call a ‘leech,’ a rich defense lawyer catering to the criminal elite.

And while Civilian sympathized with Hero’s cause, she also had enough experience as a starving artist to appreciate the luxury of not having to worry about how much money she had to spend at the grocery store.

Plus, he’d been so kind to save her; how bad could he be?

Her rescuer was still speaking, his smooth words and confident tone confirming his profession.

“... the kind of art that needs to be seen and studied to be appreciated.”

At his hint, the crowd began to drift towards the gallery walls.

Her rescuer met her gaze through the crowd, and she offered him a small smile of gratitude as the people around her shifted away.

She turned towards the wall of cityscape paintings, breathing a sigh of relief before stopping to analyze one of the city in the rain. She eyed the brushstrokes, mentally smoothing a line here, adding a shadow there. She shook her head and turned away. Now was not the time.

But her rather abrupt turn sent her careening into a wall-like something that wasn’t a wall, but a certain tall lawyer in a thousand-dollar Armani suit. She jerked back, horrified at her lack of grace, but tripped on her blasted heels. Hands at her waist stopped her fall, long fingers tightening around her as she regained her balance. When she was finally steady, his hands slid away.

“Thanks.” Civilian forced herself to look up into the face of the man who had now rescued her twice, rather than looking around like she wanted to to check who else had noticed her embarrassing almost-fall.

He was smiling warmly, and for the first time all night, her heart wasn’t pounding at the thought of speaking with a stranger.

“I’m sorry for running into you.” She felt breathless, but it must have been from her almost-fall.

He waved her off. “I shouldn’t have been standing so close. I just wanted to compliment the way you’ve captured my favorite view of the city.” He gestured to the painting she’d just been critiquing.

“I painted it at the top of the—“

“Capitol building, yes I go there often.”

“Because you work there often?” Civilian flushed as she spoke across him, but her heart steadied as he didn’t seem to mind. His smile widened, and he leaned closer.

“What gave me away?” His voice was deep, and he looked at her as though they were sharing a secret.

Her cheeks grew warmer, and she looked away, heart racing for an entirely different reason.

“My brother is a lawyer, so I usually can just tell. He was supposed to be here actually…” a frown came to her face as she remembered her brother’s promise.

She shook herself out of her reverie. Her rescuer was looking at her warmly.

“I’m sorry! You rescued me back there, and I don’t even know your name…” She looked at him expectantly, and he offered a bright smile that made her stomach flutter.

“I’m Villain. Pleased to meet you.” His voice was practically a purr, sending tingles across her skin as he took her hand, gently raising it to his lips. She looked down as her cheeks heated at the old fashioned gesture.

“I’m Civilian,” she said as he released her hand, returning his bright smile with a shy one of her own. “Although you probably already knew that since my name is on the program...”

He nodded. “I have to say, I’m quite impressed by your—”

“Civilian!”

A blur in a tan suit darted around Villain and grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

“Hero, what?—” Her brother was a mess. His suit was wrinkled, tie coming undone, hair mussed.

He continued to pull her back, eyes on Villain. “Civilian I need to talk to you—it’s urgent!”

She glanced back at Villain as Hero tugged her away.

“Sorry!” She mouthed.

He just shook his head, an amused smile on his face, before mouthing something that looked suspiciously like, “I’ll see you later.”

Her heart warmed, and she was still grinning when Hero pulled her around the corner and flipped her around to face him.

“What are you—”

“Do you have any idea who that is?” Hero’s fingers gripped her shoulders. “What he is?”

“He said his name was Villain? And so what that he’s a lawyer, Hero. I don’t get why you are freaking out!”

Hero’s hands shook her shoulders. “He’s not just a lawyer, he—”

Civilian wrenched free and shoved Hero’s chest. “He what? Actually helped me? When YOU failed to show up like you promised.” Her last words slid into a growl.

Hero had the decency to look ashamed for a brief moment before his face hardened. He lifted a hand, gesturing with one arm back towards where they’d left Villain. “His people are the reason that I’m late!”

Anger sparked in her chest, and she rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she scoffed, “blame some random lawyer for your broken promise. That’s a pitiful excuse, Hero, even for you.”

She shoved past him, heading back into the gallery.

“Wait, Sis!” He grabbed her arm. She shook him off and stalked away.

But when she returned to the main room, Villain was gone.

[arabian-bloodstream]

Demi Lovato - ‘Skin Of My Teeth’

I had these initial thoughts based on the snippets about "Skin of My Teeth"

Yeah, I kinda totally absolutely wish this was not the lead single. It rather feels like repeating the pattern of DWTD...TAOSO. Demi wrote in "California Sober," that she is "tired of being known for my sickness." And yet the first song released from her next album is about... surviving her sickness. Just like the first single from her last album. [...] I think that entering a new era, a FUN song--even if dealing with what she's gone through--would have been the better choice.

 I take them back after listening to the full song. Re-introducing herself to the world (especially so soon after the--let's get real-disastrous D7 era), it really works.

Looking at the lyrics, I totally got it. It begins with:

Demi leaves rehab again/When is this shit gonna end

Let's be honest, how many times have we heard not only her detractors, but even her stans (although they are more gentle about it) say a variation of here we go again. Her whole California Sober phase had just about everyone calling out that it was a recipe for disaster, after all.

I survived but it got harder to breathe

This line is heartbreaking. She did survive, but the pressure to keep going, and probably that continued, stronger pressure to be a role model *and* to stay away from the stuff was even harder for her. And, yet, think of the image she presented to the world.

Asking why doesn’t make it easier/Go easier on me

Trying to think about it, I don't think that Demi's ever really asked for her detractors to just lay off, to just ever really stop and think: Look at what I've gone through, am going through, just go easier on me. Here she is, and I love it.

And, it's not just to her detractors, I think it's also to those who are trying to help, who love her too. Asking why, how isn't helping. It's just.... let her breathe, let her live, she's trying, but it's not easy, so just let her be.

The reaper knocks on my door/Cause I’m addicted to more/I don’t need you to keep score/When I’m the one who’s at war

And this whole verse is directed at her detractors because it's a clear call saying, yes, I know, I know I fuck up. Yes, I know that I keep failing and falling, but I KNOW THAT. I don't need you telling me. I don't need you reminding me. I'm the one who keeps falling closer and closer to the edge.

Aaaah, and then this, this, this bridge hits so much harder when hearing in the context of the whole song:

I’m just trying to keep my head above water I’m your son and I’m your daughter I’m your mother I’m your father

She's saying that there are SO MANY OTHER PEOPLE out there who are struggling with substance addiction. She's just one of millions and millions. Look around and your son, your daughter, your mother, your father is in the same situation. This epidemic is everywhere, which leads us to...

I’m just a product of the problem

Because, yes, drug proliferation is everywhere, effecting so many people. Too many people. Demi is just one of too, too many. She's just put a very public face on it.

And then:

I’m alive

Yes, she's alive. She made it, and there is a triumph there which we can all be happy about it, but it dives right back into that chorus which reminds us that it's still a fight for her. And there is one different line in that final chorus.

Won't you try and have some mercy on me?

So, yes, I take back my complaint for this is as a single, it's a brilliant bridge between D7, all of the messiness that happened and this new era. Like it or not, Demi Lovato has been known for her sickness, and because of that she's done a lot of messy things. In this song, she's reminding people of that and (for the first time) she's asking people to take that into account and have some mercy.

After all, she's alive by the skin of her teeth. But, goddamnit, she's alive.

Join demiheads

[gothwives]

for the most part, ari tended to play by the rules. at least on the outside, he liked to maintain the image of the devout boyfriend, the authoritative businessman, the respectable public figure. there were a lot of eyes on him at all times, and he felt the pressure to perform. there was another side of him, though, the side that only came out behind closed doors, or when all judgmental eyes had since turned in for the night. that side of him longed to act out, and who was he to deny his true desires? though ari wished he and ivy had more space to explore each other properly, something about the cramped backseat of his sports car heightened his arousal, their bodies having no choice but to be pressed up against each other no matter how they shifted. not to mention their combined body heat was already fogging up the car windows, the atmosphere only adding to the steamy exchange as he continued to smother both legs with kisses. "so pretty..." voice a mere mumble against her silky smooth skin, his hands traveled to her thighs, keeping them spread apart as he reached the apex, only to switch legs and kiss his way back down to her knee. it was killing him to continue teasing her like this, his cock still straining almost painfully against his fitted slacks, but he knew the build up would only make things that much more enjoyable when they both got what they actually wanted. "i don't hate the sound of that... but i'd miss getting to rip them off you." now the only thing he'd be thinking about when she came over for family dinners was sneaking a hand up her skirt to see just whether she was serious or not. "you have?" head lifted from its place between her legs, both to see her expression and gauge whether she was teasing him or not, and to marvel at the bare flesh she'd revealed to him. a near whine fell from his lips as she elaborated on her fantasies, mind full of images of her getting herself off while thinking of him. "fuck's sake, ivy... you're killing me." if he'd known she was so taken with him, maybe he'd have tried flirting a little sooner. at her tugging, he brought his head back to its previous destination, desperate open mouth kisses placed up the expanse of her thigh once again. it was so unbelievably wrong, but when she'd mentioned her mother— his girlfriend, whom he loved dearly— the forbidden nature of their affair only amplified his arousal. his gaze remained on her as he drew ever closer to her soaked panties, keen to show her just how good of a pet he could be. "i don't deserve you... you're a fucking angel." finally coming face to face with her glistening cunt, he practically moaned at the sight, his face so close to it that his breath fanned out to warm the already heated flesh. "please? please, please, please, let me eat your pretty little pussy. i'll make you feel so good, just please let me taste it." he didn't even care how pathetic he sounded as he pleaded with her, grip on her thighs tightening as his fingernails dug into the soft plumpness, though he held off on diving in until she gave him permission. after all, he was merely her devoted fucktoy, and not the other way around. "let me taste you, baby... i just wanna make you come."

               the blonde would’ve been lying if she told anyone she’d expected to be fucking in ari’s car by the time the day ended. but then again, she would’ve also been lying if she told to herself she’d anticipated a kiss to take her breath away, a quick and dirty touch that had her heart racing inside her ribcage and all her senses coming alive. perhaps it had been a bad idea to underestimate him. with a wide grin on her face, she climbed on the back of his car, the space so narrow and ari’s body so big there was no way they could be inches apart. she let out a soft hum at the male’s compliment, eyes anchored on him as he pushed her dress past her hips. his compliment sent a wave of arousal through her body, if she had any concept of abashment whatsoever, she’d be completely flushed to see him so close to her panties when they were drenched beyond salvation. luckily for them, she’d never felt shame before. “yeah…?” ivy asked, biting her bottom lip whilst she felt the heat spread through her skin as the man kissed her thighs. immediately, she spread her legs further in a very clear invitation. “maybe I’ll stop wearing panties after this.” she added, voice full of mischief. it was a visual she wanted to set in his mind, the latent possibility of being able to sneak a hand up her skirt at any moment and finding her ready for him. “I’ve thought about this before, you know?” the blonde whispered, hips rising delicately as her hands pulled the rest of her dress up, leaving her a mess of wild hair and a pretty bra to match the soaked panties. “humped my pillows to the thought of you showing me what a real man fucks like, nothing like the boys I waste my time with.” looking down her eyelashes at ari, ivy couldn’t help the infamous grin on her face as she tugged at the man’s hair, letting him rest his cheek against the inside of her thigh. she wanted his mouth on her, desperately, but she was having too much fun to stop herself from teasing. “not that I thought you’d have the nerve to do it in real life. figured you were just my mom’s little pet… a hot one, but a pet nevertheless.” maybe he could be hers now. “that’s why you don’t deserve to eat me out, you know? this is already more than what you had any right to dream of.” graceful fingers moved to push aside her panties then, cheeks burning hot as her bare cunt was exposed for him. “but I’ll let you do it, you just have to say pretty please.” there was something about the idea of having him begging that was making her discover new things about herself, and she loved it.

[ohharrymylove]

A theory came to me and I've got to share it: I think Dakota Johnson was supposed to be Harry's beard instead of Olivia.

She signed onto the project in May and left about a month after Harry joined due to scheduling conflicts but if part of Harry coming on included getting a beard (nice organic relationship, hit it off on set, have a romance til his tour gets going/the movie comes out; offers publicity for the movie and all involved), that role would still need to be filled.

Dakota makes sense to me-- she's also connected to Gucci (seeing her at her film premier next to Alessandro is what gave me this idea) so the beginning of the stunt in January really kind of sells that pair of looks. She's closer in age to Harry and surrounded by chatter about her bisexuality, which she has circuitously come out about several times.

(Personally I think Harry being associated with an openly bisexual woman is something that could subtly nudge people toward questioning his sexuality while still offering the safety of heterosexual pairing. I think Olivia fits this too, though not as well as Dakota.)

She also only recently (like. A month after leaving DWD) went public with a supposed 3 year relationship with Chris Martin. THE TIMING.

The thing about Olivia bearding that's confused me from the start is that, as a woman, it's far more damaging to her image to be "unprofessional" than it would be for a man in a similar situation. That wouldn't be the case if she were just another actor.

I also think Covid has fucked with every single possible timeline, and that has led to a lot of messy choices from all sides, though I think that would've happened with Dakota as well.

Anyway that's my theory that very likely isn't true bc none of us know shit about what's going on behind the scenes in ye olde Hollywood ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female)  ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Fluff ➔Warnings: Angst | Mentions of death | Cursing ➔Word count: 6,865

➔Summary: He was always yours, even before you wrote a book about him, even before he disappeared from your life after high school, and even before he broke his promise. 

➔Request: can I request a drabble of haechan friends to lovers? 🥺

➔ I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a longer story that is more on the fluff side. I felt really inspired to do so. Thanks for sending in the request! 💚

You

  You hated school. Not because you weren’t serious about your studies. You liked the subjects well enough. You liked eating lunch at a table, a little package of apple slices, and a chocolate milk that always tasted like the carton it was in. You liked hanging up your coat in the coat closet, little rain droplets dripping on the wooden floor when the weather was bad. You liked your teachers and how they would encourage your love of reading. You liked all the things to like except one: school hours meant time away from him.

  Him. He pulled your hair sometimes when he was bored. You cried once, your mother saying something sexist about how he must like you. Your father never paid attention, just kept watching the television. You wondered if all boys were that stupid. He also made fun of the way your nose would wiggle when you talked. He had a smart comment for everything. He thought he was smarter than you, even. There weren't many nice things to say right off the top of your head, but you loved him anyway.

 During the school year, the school hours especially, you never talked to him. He was off parading around with his squad of friends, each one more pigheaded than the last. They’d act like they didn’t care about school in the schoolyard, but all of them got decent grades. Sometimes they would pick on others boys, the principal telling others that that’s just what boys did. Sometimes he would raise his hand in class and answer the right question, and even though you sat next to each other in class, he’d never look at you. 

  Your school life was a little different. You were off spending time hovering by doorways, wishing the days would end until you could see him again. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, a question of whether you truly knew him or not always on your tongue. You didn’t spend time pretending other people were your friends, because your best friend had always been him.

  After school felt like a different time zone. Neither of you took your time with homework. You would rush, a telltale sign being poorly erased letters and crumpled papers shoved into bookbags. Usually, he would walk to your house and meet you in the tent in the backyard, talking long before he reached the entrance. He always talked about his day as if you weren’t in it. He liked to talk a lot.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you would say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

 You were both at an age where you were figuring stuff out. You fought a lot, with him storming out of your backyard tent and walking home, and you resisting the urge to follow him. There was always a phone call from his concerned mother, eased by your own mother reassuring her that you’d both work out your differences soon. You’d been best friends since you were even younger, clinging to each other only when other people weren’t looking. It was too late to make a clean break.

 Summers were your favorite because you had him all to yourself. At that age, you weren’t aware that keeping him was holding him back from other things. You were all too happy to lounge on a beach with him, watching him get stuck in the sand and laughing at him until your stomach hurt. To you, it was the purest form of love. 

 Time made things weird, as it does. The summers you used to love started fading out. He no longer came on family trips. Instead, he went to summer camps with other thirteen-year-old boys. He would come back boasting about being taught to shave his face by the older kids, and then he would show you his new skills. Even though you were disinterested, you always watched him intensely, thinking that if he let you in to this one valuable piece of information, he would open the door to the rest. He never did.

  Gradually, after-school hangouts were taken away from you, too. Your father’s only contribution to any conversation was to say that your best friend would be more interested in girls now. Even as your parents left you alone, the words of  “But I’m a girl!” leaving your lips until the last light was shut off, you never really understood what it meant. In fact, it wasn’t until he flirted with someone else in front of your face that you got the hint. You were a girl, but he never thought of you that way. And he would rather spend his time after school walking to someone else’s house.

 None of that was as bad as high school was. Up until then, you’d been clutching at straws to make the friendship what it once was. You made the tent bigger to accommodate his growing frame. You offered to pay for movies if he’d come alone, and you would even sit through the boring ones just for him. On the rare chance that you’d guilt trip him into staying a little longer with you, it was enough to keep you enduring. When high school truly hit, the studying took up most of your time. The scraps that were left were spent having family time, or visiting schools your mother wanted you to attend after high school.

 Though he no longer ignored you in school, things had gotten harder. He was dating often, sweeping girls off their feet with his wild, charming sense of humor. It was hard for them not to get jealous of you. Though you weren’t around much, the bond you both shared was obvious to everyone who watched the pair of you together. He never really wanted to choose between his childhood best friend and someone he was seeing, but the choice was always very apparent to you. 

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

  You shut it down quickly, appalled that he would even suggest a thing. When you realized your dismissal must have hurt his feelings, you backtracked.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked.

 His smile made you feel like you were on top of the world. Of course he had someone to introduce to you. Thus, the double date was born. You could tag along with him and his girlfriend, with a friend of his you eventually started dating. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it had rekindled something in your friendship you didn’t know you’d been missing.

 He had even come around to your house more. You came home from a study group one time to see him in your childhood tent, his long legs sticking out of it. He bent his body forward, holding up a bag of snacks you recognized.

“You still sit in here?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

  He got a far away look in his eyes, like he did whenever he was truly going to say something stupid. There were times he spoke philosophically, because deep down, he was never the stupid little boy you said he was.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

  He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. It pulled you to wherever he was at, back in time to when things felt much easier than they were. High school was ending, and you were all walking down different paths, none of them leading back to this tent.

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

 You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, to take his hand and hold it in yours. There was something in you that couldn’t do it. You just kept chewing, waiting for him to keep talking. 

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

  Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time.

  Sadly, after high school, the promise was never kept. The image of him walking away from your backyard was the last time you saw him in any place you called home.

                                                          ~♡~

  You held the phone away from your ear because it was too hot. In your other hand, you held a cold, strawberry smoothie, the condensation dripping down your fingers. The sidewalks were busy, so it was tricky trying to weave in and out of the people, all while holding an unfinished manuscript for the next book you were writing. Years of dodging kids in school hallways made you a pro. As you were about to collide with a delivery man, you spun around gracefully and avoided disaster. After taking a sip of smoothie, you brought the phone closer to your ear.

“Do people still do book signings for physical copies?” you asked. “I thought everything was about selfies now. I definitely don’t look good with the flash on.”

“Of course.” your agent told you over the phone. “I don’t think anyone over the age of existence does. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” you said.

 Your agent on the other end sighed. “You’re too young to be worried about any of this. I’ll book you for the signing and people will come, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 You wanted to rattle off all the reasons you were freaking out over it, but you were in public. You took another sip of smoothie and looked at the manuscript tucked against your body. Twenty-four and published, with your book rising in the charts, and a second book underway. You shouldn’t be so scared to have human interactions with strangers who enjoy your work, and yet...

“Okay.” you said, closing your eyes for a moment.” Okay, you can do it. I don’t know why I get like this. Seriously, you’re the best.”

“I know. I know.” your agent said. “Take a bath and relax. Call me later.”

  You hung up and threw your phone in the deep recesses of your bag. Your one hand was wet, and you didn’t want it touching the papers, so you tucked them deeper against your body and kept on walking.

                                                        ~♡~

“A book signing. Can you believe it?” you said into the phone. There was no answer on the other end, not even a little static. You walked a little slower on the sidewalk, letting the outside world disappear from your vision. You took a deep breath. “I sold so many copies, mom. I know you would be proud of me.”

  The message ended with a beep. You left the phone on your ear and stopped walking. You stood still, wondering if one day calling your mother and leaving messages on her old cell phone would eventually make you feel better. She died shortly after you graduated from high school, and the phone number was the only part of her still kept alive. You called it whenever you felt a little lost, or on days when you had exciting news to share.

  Feeling a tightness in your chest, you turned off your phone and dropped it into your bag. You were almost home, but you felt like you weren’t ready to face your apartment again. You found it so funny that your professional life was so full and booked, but your personal life was so hollow and empty.

  You turned away, thinking that you could retrace your steps and find yourself on a street with a cafe still open. You would gladly sit at that table and write, watching strangers living their lives, each one stuffed to the brim of character. Men that tried hitting on women who were disinterested, the click-clacking of their heels walking away from potential danger. Mothers with their children, each child holding a mushy, spit-covered ice cream cone. There was always someone who didn’t belong in the crowd, someone your eyes glossed over, and someone who brought up memories of someone you used to know. It was your favorite pastime: watching people who weren’t watching you. You smiled at the thought of getting to live those many lives, when you remembered that there was always a writing deadline to attend to.

  Another time, you thought, before taking the remaining steps to your apartment and looking through the darkened glass front door. Maybe you would take up your agent's suggestion of taking a bath.

 Feeling a little more jolly, you walked up the steps and let yourself in. You stopped to check your mailbox (empty), stopped to check your phone messages one last time (also empty), and lastly, checked your surroundings. When you were sure no one was around, you walked up the steps, feeling tired both mentally and physically. When you reached the top of the hallway, you stopped.

“Haechan.” you said, his name too quiet for him to hear.

   Sitting outside your door, a hood over his head, sat the boy who used to pull on your ponytail. Only now, the figure in all-black clothes, a little 5 o’clock shadow on his face, the one that looked up at you like he didn’t recognize you, pulled at your heartstrings. 

                                                           ~♡~

  You liked to remember Haechan often, especially considering the main character of your book was written with him in mind. Well, you changed his name in the book and made him a lot cooler, but the core of him was the same. Both men were the epicenter of your whole world, even though one of them had left years ago. 

 Looking at him sitting on your floor transported you back in time. Briefly, your mind tried to convince yourself that you were seeing a ghost from the past. But, when he got up from the floor, approaching you cautiously, and he paused for a second before reaching out his arms to hug you, your fingertips knew what your brain didn’t: he was real.

  “Why are you here?” you blurted, pulling away from him, your body regretful that you had let him go.

“I don’t get a hello?” he asked.

  You raised your eyebrows, the surprise on your face real. You were struggling with words, which annoyed you as a writer. All you could do was look at his face and how much it had changed over the last few years. He was a man now. He was a little taller, and the baby fat on his cheeks was gone. He still couldn’t dress right, and the old confidence faded, but he was still as handsome as ever. When he smiled to show that he was joking, you couldn’t stop looking at his teeth.

“How did you find out where I live?” you asked.

“Your dad.” he said.

 Haechan didn’t so much as give his apologies for missing your mother’s funeral, and he had the good graces not to bring her up at all. You felt grateful, saving the pain of both things for another time. 

“I don’t talk to him much anymore.” you said. “He only comes by to give me old things he thinks I want.”

  Not knowing what to do with the piece of information, Haechan shoved his hands into his pockets. You hated how awkward it felt being in front of him. The silence outside of your apartment was magnified by your deep breathing. 

“Are you here because of my book?” you asked.

Puzzled, Haechan blinked. “Book? I didn’t read your book.”

  You adjusted your bag in your hands and thought of something to say. Before you could speak, Haechan motioned to the bag he brought sitting in front of your apartment door. You looked at it, the big black boulder holding no significance to you.

“I was actually just passing through town. I was wondering if you could let me stay a night.” he said.

Him

  He said he hated the apples, even though they were his favorite fruit. He put them on your lunch tray when you weren’t looking, because if you’d seen him do it, you would have made a fuss. Then, he’d get up from your table and go back to wherever his other friends were, because that was what was expected of him. But his eyes always went back to your table to make sure you were eating well, and he would try his best to remember the way you’d smile when you looked down and saw what he had left behind.

 He hated school. It was full of adults who tried to change him. Laugh a little less, they said. Don’t be a clown. Don’t make too much trouble. There was never any room for dreamers or troublemakers, never any kind of future for those who didn’t have plans by the time they were pulled from the womb. Behave and listen. Listen and learn, or we’ll call your parents. He had heard it all by the time he was thirteen, and he hated every bit of it.

 Not you, though. You never tried to change him. You let him go on his way, even though he knew you felt like he was abandoning you. You were the only person he trusted most days, and in the tent in your backyard, he had felt most like himself. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” you had said once. You were angry, he could see it in the way you tried not to say what you wanted to say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

 He hadn’t known, either. They liked the way he made them laugh, and he liked the attention they gave him. They were different, in the way that they didn’t remind him that friendships were temporary, that everyone you know might someday disappear. He was terrified of that, of the idea that good things didn’t last.

“Are you jealous?” he asked.

 He wanted the words to sting. He knew you were jealous, and he knew you would never admit to it. He would have been jealous, too, if the roles were reversed. He wanted nothing more than for you to admit that you cared about him, that you loved him, or to rouse any kind of feeling in you at all. Those words spawned a fight that made it hard for either of you to bounce back from. He pulled and picked at you until you were deteriorating in front of his eyes. Choice words were said, and though the wounds healed as you both grew older, neither of you really forgot the beginning of the end.

 Summer came and went, time never slowing down for anybody. The hatred  burning in his heart subsided as he grew into himself more, though he never really learned how to savor the moments as they happened. He was always reaching for more, stuffing his greedy face full of anything that could keep him content.

   His phone calls to you melted down to just one call per week. He didn’t stop by the tent as much, didn’t ask to catch up on homework. He was drifting through school, using the passage of time to measure the length of girls legs, and how they’d move in his direction any time he smiled.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

 His bright idea didn’t rub off on you. You didn’t smile, didn’t look at him the excited way he looked at you. When you shut it down so quickly, he wondered if your rejection had something to do with him. He was trying really hard to keep your friendship alive, even catching up in the hallways before class to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked, a simple smile appearing and disappearing before he could blink.

 Introducing you to one of his friends, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. He’d had better, but he could hardly take it back. You looked happy when his friend's attention was on you. You were radiant. And it was the perfect set-up. You both could double date and spend time together, just like the old days, even making both of your dates uncomfortable by how close of a bond you had together.

  When the jealousy arrived in a perfect little handbasket, he was sure it was payback for treating you differently, as he was getting to know himself more. He burned whenever he saw you with the other boy, whenever you reached out for his hand, your lips quivering for a kiss. He would stay up late at night in a restless fit, his mind taking turns convincing himself that you were losing your virginity every waking moment. 

 “You’re spending a lot of time at my house.” you had said to him on more than one occasion. 

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I can go home, if you want.”

“No.” you said quickly, your eyes sparkling.

 He wanted to kiss you then. It was a fleeting , special moment, and it hovered in the air between you both from that moment forward. He thought maybe he was imagining it, but he had been close to many girls, and no one looked at him the way you did.

 Sitting in your tent, his legs stretched out of it because he was too big, he thought back to every time you made his heart do backflips in his chest. Ever since you were small, he had feelings for you. In fact, his parents used to joke that the two of you would end up together one day, maybe have a wedding in the backyard,  your inside jokes written into your vows.

 Hearing leaves crunching underfoot, he sat up.  “You still sit in this thing?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

 He wasn’t sure why. He had been taking a walk and found himself there, his feet knowing exactly where to go. He had been thinking too hard about life after high school, and about what kind of man he wanted to be.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

  He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. Getting you to eat properly was important to him. If he wasn’t around to remind you to take care of yourself, how would you survive the rest of life without him?

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

 When he felt like he was going to cry, he shoved more food into his face. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he should continue. When you remained quiet, he began again.

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

  Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time. It would be so easy to seal the deal with a real kiss, one that had been years in the making. But he didn’t, and neither did you.

“I have to go.” he said, getting to his feet. “You’re going to keep your promise, right?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” you asked.

                                                       ~♡~ 

  He was raised not to comment on the state of other people’s homes, good or not. Looking around yours, he wanted so badly to tell you how well you were doing for yourself, and how proud of you he was. He looked around, his fingers itching to touch the pretty ceramic birds on an end table, to run a fingertip on a dustless counter and hold it up to the light. 

“You can put your bag down over here.” you said, motioning to a spot beside the couch. “My couch isn’t much, but it is comfortable.”

 You were a little awkward, your eyes unable to connect with his. He could see your mind waiting to defend yourself against the little jabs old Haechan would have made about your space. When he didn’t, you didn’t let your shoulders relax. He moved further inside your apartment, and to your confusion, he said it was a nice place, and that he would be happy to sleep wherever. 

 Compared to your nerves, he was quite calm. He felt like he had walked into a time machine and transported himself into the backyard again. It was like nothing had changed at all. You still looked the same, with nicer clothes that looked more expensive than the average persons. It looked like you went to the hair salon to ask for an “adult” haircut, but your baby face made it hard to take you seriously. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

Haechan shrugged. “Sure.”

  When you didn’t ask if he was hungry, Haechan made himself comfortable on the couch. You sat on an opposite chair, folding your hands in your lap. You kept looking around the room nervously, as if you were scared to be alone with a stranger. It hurt him a little bit, but he was mature enough to let it slide.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” he said.

“It’s fine.”

Haechan sighed. “This is much harder than I thought it would be.”

“What is?” you asked, touching your fingers to your neck.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  You got up from your chair as if you’d been electrocuted. “I forgot I need to make a phone call. I will be right back. Don’t touch anything.” 

  Haechan watched you as you grabbed your bag and left the room. Never one to keep still, an old habit that never died, he got up and looked around. He came across the room you entered and saw that the door was ajar. He didn’t listen to the conversation, just grabbed little pieces of it regarding a book signing to take place the next day.

“So soon?” he heard you ask the person on the other end of the phone.

 Haechan walked away, his attention set on the fireplace. On top of it sat a bunch of picture frames, one of which he was in. Haechan stared at it for a long time, his eyes tracing the outline of the little boy he used to be. In the picture, the two of you were hanging onto each other. You were maybe eight years old, ice cream running down your chin, and a blissful ignorance only a child can carry on your sweet face.

 He didn’t know where things had gone wrong. The two of you should have been friends forever. It just made sense. He reached out to touch his fingers to the photo but reeled back when he saw your face in the reflection.

“My mother took that photo.” you said, appearing behind him.

He nodded. “I remember.” 

 The air was heavy. He wanted to apologize for not going to her funeral. He had been out of the country during that time, but he should have called you. He could have written a letter, he could have done anything else but ignore it. 

“I was scared.” Haechan said, the words surprising himself.

You held up a hand, as if you didn’t want to talk about it, but Haechan continued, “I loved her, too.”

 You turned your back and went into the kitchen. Quietly, Haechan followed. He wasn’t going to bring it up anymore. He sensed your sadness because it brewed in his chest, too. He sat on a stool as you got yourself a cup and poured cold water from a pitcher into it. 

“How was your trip?” you asked, your voice shaky.” Are you still traveling?”

 Since he left high school, Haechan felt aimless. He needed to explore the world in an attempt to further his education surrounding himself. He had traveled to many countries and met many people that changed him. Disappearing was never the plan, but it was addicting to not have phone calls, or to adhere to schedules. 

“I’m seeing where it goes.” he said. 

  You took a sip of water and never stopped looking at him. When you were done, you placed it on the counter. “I guess I should ask the million dollar question.”

Haechan leaned back in his stool, “Hit me with what you got.”

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to pay for a hotel.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“Haechan, I’ve known you all my life.” you said. “Lying is your calling.”

“I wanted to see you.”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” he said. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  The bitterness was morphing your face. He could tell you were thinking back to the promise, about how broken it had made you. After he left, he heard from his parents that you called his house often to ask where he had gone. You wrote him letters that were undelivered. You nearly followed him halfway across the world until your mother got sick. 

“Okay.” he said. “It wasn’t a lie when I made that promise. I had every intention of being with you until we were old and wrinkly.”

“Please.” you said. “You knew what you were going to do before you did it. You booked the plane ticket two weeks in advance. You were with me at graduation. You kissed me.”

  He remembered the kiss well. He had thought about it often on his travels, remembering the way your velvety lips felt, and how he never wanted to stop kissing you. The kiss made sense. It was the one thing time had every permission to slow down. 

“I know.” he said.

  He kissed you. You didn’t kiss him. He was happy about graduating. He was riding the high of the plane ticket, of the unknown waiting for him. He was scared it was the last chance he had to show you his feelings. When you kissed him back and it felt so good, he was then scared that he would never have the guts to leave. 

  You continued speaking, each word obliterating his thoughts, “ You want to think going away was just some spontaneous thrill, Haechan, but it fucking wasn’t. You could have told me it was what you wanted. I would have understood. You didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye. You didn’t have to-”

 You couldn’t say the words, so he finished them for you. “-leave. I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t an excuse, but I...didn’t want to lose you.”

  The words felt stupid as soon as he said them. You held your hand up to your head and said you had a headache. Haechan took the time to excuse himself and use the bathroom, locking himself away to figure out what he really thought was going to happen when he showed up at your door to get you back.

You 

  You collapsed onto your couch. The last hour felt like a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. You were older and more equipped to handle confrontation, but there was something about seeing Haechan that made you want to curl in your mother’s lap like a child. You bit down on your thumb and thought of the ways you could ask him to leave your private space. There was a hotel down the street that was relatively cheap. 

  You looked at the photo on the fireplace. The little boy staring back at you had no idea one day he would break your heart into a million pieces. He was still a little unsure of himself, his smile unknowingly gearing up to be mischievous in a few years time. You thought of the grown man in the bathroom, and how the years had passed, but he still felt the same. A part of you wanted to pinch his cheek and wrap your arms around him like you would when you were young. An even bigger part of you wanted to kiss him to see if the feelings still lingered, even though you already knew the answer to that.

  Moving your foot, you accidentally nudged his backpack. You looked down at it. It was worn in places, with band buttons adorning the front. One of the zippers was open and the edge of something was sticking out. You looked at your closed bathroom door and back to the backpack before gathering up your courage and unzipping it slowly. 

  Digging your hand inside, you pulled out a corner of his underwear. With a quick “Ew”, you shoved it back inside. Your knuckle touched against something hard. You wrapped your hand around it and unearthed it to see that it was your book. You pulled it out even more and audibly gasped. 

“You liar.” you whispered.

 Hearing the toilet flush, you panicked and pulled the book all the way out and shoved it underneath your couch pillow. Quickly, you zipped his backpack and sat back, crossing one leg over the other. When Haechan came out, he hardly looked at you.

“Coming here was a bad idea,” he said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

You stood up. “Wait.”

  Haechan didn’t hear you. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. You could see that his face was wet where he had thrown water on it. He didn’t make eye contact with you, just waved his hand and apologized for being an inconvenience. 

“Leaving again?” you said.

  Haechan stopped moving. He turned back. “I thought about you every day I was gone. Every day. And every day, my next thought was that I didn’t deserve you.”

 You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. For a beat or two, you both stared, your eyes searching each other's. You could see every age of Haechan since you’d known him on his face, from the adorable child to the handsome adult. 

  You let Haechan leave this time. He closed the door with a soft click, his presence feeling like a fever dream. Mindlessly, you sat back down on your couch, and only remembered the book still laying there after some time.

 You took your book and placed it on your lap. It was so worn that some of the pages were slipping out of the binding. You opened it carefully and flipped through the pages, the margins filled up with black pen ink. Haechan had written down his input on most pages with things like:

Am I really like this? There is no way this guy is cooler than me.

You know? You’re actually kind of funny. 

Your mother was better than us all.

  You closed the book with a snap and felt the tears falling. You put your head down and tried to feel everything all at once.

                                                         ~♡~

  Your agent walked next to you, her stride slowing to match yours. She didn’t outright say you looked like shit, though it was the truth. Your eyes were a little red, your cheeks were puffy, and you kept itching your neck all throughout the night until there were red scratch marks all on your skin.

 She held open the door to the bookstore “Are you nervous?”

“Am I nervous?” you asked. “I’m shitting myself. I don’t think anyone is going to show up, but with my life, I’m pretty sure I can deal with the embarrassment.”

 Your agent rattled on and on about how special you were to people. She dragged you throughout the two story bookstore, pulling you harder when you tried stalling. You mostly blocked out her words to save your sanity. You didn’t love when people tried buttering you up.

“Just over in this section.” she said. “It starts in twenty minutes, so don’t expect many people right away.”

  When you both turned the corner, there was a sizable line leading up to a table stacked with new books. When the people saw you, they gawked. Some clapped, which made your face turn as hot as your neck. 

“I can’t do this.” you whispered.

  Your agent directed you to a chair, holding you down by your shoulders, so you wouldn’t run away. You took a sip of cold water sitting by your side.

“They’re all here for you.” she said. “Smile and try to be happy.”

“I’ll try.” you said, but when someone smiled at you in front of the line, you felt yourself returning a genuine smile.

 Twenty minutes passed by faster than you wished. When the first person approached the table, you tried to remember your school teachers who believed in you. You recalled all the people who inspired your stories, making a mental bid to thank them for making the first signing so sweet. 

“I really love how you write.” someone had said. Hearing those words made you feel touched. You tried your hardest not to tear up, signing your sloppy signature as best you could.

“Thank you.” you said, the gratitude you felt hopefully being translated well.

  You signed for a long time, the line growing and growing as time passed. Some people came with their own dog-eared books, others with fresh copies. They asked what your upcoming book was about, which made you excited to finish writing it. 

“There isn’t a set ending quite yet, but I’m writing like crazy!” you said.

  You looked down at a book before you and smiled, your fingers touching the pages softly. You signed it and handed it back, giving the fan a smile that reached your eyes. When your eyes locked with his, you felt the world move. Staring back at you was Haechan.

“I would have given you my own copy to sign.” he said. “But I seem to have misplaced it.”

 There was a knowing smile on his face that made you feel flushed all over. He took the signed book back and tucked it underneath his arm. Since yesterday, he looked freshly showered in a similar black t-shirt and jeans. His hair was carefully laid flat on his head like he cared what he looked like in public. He looked handsome, and his cheeks were definitely not puffy.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you read the book?” you asked. 

“You and I both know I don’t make the best choices.” he said. 

  You smiled faintly. There was pain in the smile he returned. You wanted so badly to reach across the table and smooth away the lines on his forehead.

“I know this isn’t the best place.” he said, turning around to look at the line behind him. “But I came here to tell you the truth of why I was outside of your door yesterday.”

“Okay.” you said, your attention no longer on those people.

Haechan continued. “You see, I’m not traveling anymore. “

“You’re not?” you asked. “Then, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming home.”  

 You didn’t know what he expected of you, but he looked a little deflated when you held out your hand. He looked at the book under his arm and back at your hand, his smile unsure. He took the book out and placed it gently into the palm of your hand. You placed the book back onto the table and opened to the space where you had signed your name.

“I’m not going to ask for promises anymore.” you said. “I’ve always asked you for too much. For now, I would just like to tell you something.”

In the book, just below your name, you signed “I love you, Haechan.”

  Before you could even close the book, Haechan came around the table and brought you into a big hug that certainly felt like home. 

[interact-if]

Taking the spotlight for Day 6... Lucirene!

Lucirene, author of An Angel’s Song

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

In the forest of Bres an otherworldly sickness corrodes the soil and changes the creatures within. “A parting gift from the fallen angels”  say the citizens of the Hyaku Region and the mark on your hand confirms it.

Though the scent travelling in the air is sweet and enticing everyone knows better than to get closer. But the mark, it pulses, it burns, the pain spreading as fast as the corruption of the forest does.

Your masters are calling, and it seems like this time you cannot escape them.

An Angel’s Song Demo | Author’s Ko-fi | Author’s Patreon | Read more [here]

Tags: dark fantasy, romance

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

I have so many, but the only one public is An Angel’s Song. It’s, more than anything, a story about grief, loneliness and overcoming it all while navigating a hostile environment and discovering long lost secrets about the Divine and about the MC’s country. That one is very cathartic for me to make because of the themes, I feel like I’m working through a lot of feelings I didn’t even realize I had by writing it.

The next one is also an IF and it focuses on comedy, adventure and character interaction. It’s supposed to be more lighthearted, more fun, but knowing me… I don’t know if it’ll stay that way. Basically, it goes: A Captain’s boat falls prey to the storms and the strange creatures living under the sea, and they and their crew end up washing ashore an icy, snowy country. I already have the main cast written down and they have so much synergy, it’s amazing.

And the last one I’ll talk about (a traditional novel) actually happens in the same setting as my second IF, but many, many years before, when their local deity/guardian was born. It’s more of a romance-fantasy than anything, a love story between a Goddess and a half-dragon, however it also showcases many of the situations the people had to navigate and face before their country could become the place you’ll see in my second IF.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

What I like most definitely is how much freedom we have as authors. Of course, one is constrained by one’s ability to code but I think, for the most part, we can do so many things, reach an entirely new level of immersion that would not be possible with a regular novel. It’s amazing how sometimes I’m reading something and get so into it, feel so connected to the MC I feel dread when they do, panic when they have to make a choice that will clearly impact a lot of people in their world. With IF you can really feel like you’re part of the story.

Another thing I like is being able to explore other paths with my writing. Like for example, what if the MC had done this instead of that? How would that have affected their relationships, their world state? Writing branches is a lot of work, especially because they could change so many things, but it feels oddly satisfying when you do decide to include them. 

Challenges… Coding, mainly. I feel like a lot of new aspiring IF authors are a bit afraid of coding and I can understand that, especially since, had it not been for the help of the community, I would have taken way longer to actually start using Twine. Hopefully with time for resources come up and it becomes less daunting.

I don’t know if any other author feels the same way but, though I think branching is a blessing, it is also a curse. I can only write the same conversation so many times, I mean I know I’m writing it in different tones and sometimes with different results but it gets frustrating after a while because it feels like you’re stuck, like you’re not progressing at all.

Another one would definitely be finding a balance between reader interaction and just following your vision. Since it’s IF at times I feel like I have to meet a quota of branches or ways in which you can react, sometimes I also find it difficult to make the MC feel like a real person instead of a reader-insert. I’m working on that.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

That’s a difficult one… I don’t know if I would consider it weird but I do tend to investigate a lot about fashion, especially when designing the main outfits of the characters. I spend hours trying to find out what colors were used back then, what they meant, who was allowed to use them. I have this little image with some palettes for kimonos depending on the season.

I also spend too much time coming up with names, especially for places. Like I look up names of places that already exist, what they mean, I try to investigate if the words that I want to use make sense, then I panic because I can’t find anything, but I think that’s usual for writers. I also spent more time than necessary researching for the name of a tree that you will see way later in the book, which no one will probably notice what the name of the tree means or what it symbolizes but it makes me happy.

Honestly, I feel like the amount of research I have had to do has not been particularly weird? If anything at times I think I should research more, even if some aspects of Japanese culture will not apply to Kyou.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

The initial version of the MC from An Angel’s Song, which I miss dearly since they had more personality. They were autistic coded too, and I hope some traces of that still remain. Apart from that I feel like all of the characters from the main cast share something with me, even if their experiences are, of course, more dramatic than my own.

A lot of them have issues with a paternal figure or an absent mother, which also resonates with me. Some of Saori’s traits draw inspiration from ways in which I talked or acted before I became a little better at masking, before I became more self-aware. Hazuki being emotional and caring, K being a bit clingy but devoted, Masa having a temper yet loyal, Miwa being friendly but reluctant to open up beyond surface level information. I think those things describe me.

There’s also Rei but I don’t think I’m writing her book anytime soon. She’s someone that’s very family oriented, she’s a bit temperamental but she means well and she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Now that I think about it, maybe Rei is more the person I want to become.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

I’ve been living in Venezuela my whole life so I think so, even if most of the time I don’t even notice it. I believe that this happens especially in regards to relationships because people in Venezuela are very family oriented and also, from what I’ve experienced, they form strong bonds with their neighbors, which creates this strong sense of community —sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t, but my mom and her friends always make at least some friends in their neighborhoods and they gossip with some coffee about the happenings of the rest—. So when it comes to writing a character it is very important to me to make an emphasis on family relationships because those are a strong part of my culture, of my identity. 

In An Angel’s Song you have the main cast having issues or conflicting emotions about one or multiple members of their family, which influence their behavior and their outlook on life, but for the most part they are (or will be) able to form similar relationships with people that are not related to them, or to work towards restoring that relationship, transforming it into something healthier. 

In my other books family dynamics are also immensely important. For example, I’m going to mention Rei again because I love her. So, Rei has a sister named Rin, and they are both very close, even if they haven’t spent much time together. Their bond and trust in each other helps them overcome a lot of obstacles and they rely on each other when they need support or encouragement. Rei also has other people that she thinks of as siblings, and restoring that relationship with them is one of her main goals. There’s also this recurring guilt she feels at leaving her birth family and her home to explore, because to her, families are supposed to stay together.

Another aspect that I think influences my writing is religion, even if I wasn’t raised in a particularly religious household nor do I belong to any religion. Religion is a big deal in this country, we have so many events and holidays relating to religious figures. I remember when I was very young I loved going to one of the churches here because the Virgin of that town had a building filled with pretty clothes to dress her with. 

So, in that vein, I try to think about the character’s relationship with religion, do they believe in the Gods? Do they trust them? Do they follow local deities or prefer the main pantheon? How does this religion shape the way people interact with each other and the world? In regards to characters that are Venezuelan or Venezuelan-coded… I do have a few that are Venezuelan, but I don’t think I’m going to be releasing their stories soon, so I’ll keep it quiet for now.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

People being passionate about their work! This isn’t something exclusive to IF, but it is something that I love seeing. I also like seeing the different ways people innovate within the genre. I feel like sometimes, especially with newer writers, there is this idea that an IF has to subscribe to a specific format and that’s simply not true. If you don’t want to use a stat system you don’t have to, if you want to add combat then go ahead, if you would prefer to write an MC that’s already pretty pre-established (which is something that I personally want to try) then there’s nothing stopping you and I encourage you to give it a go. IF is very versatile and it’s wrong to try and fit authors into a box, especially if they want to bring something new into our little corner of the internet.

Q7: Any advice to give?

In general, I advise people to have fun writing, to not worry so much about how good it is, about if people will like it. Writing, at the end of the day, ends up being a pretty solitary activity and having those thoughts in your head too long will make you spiral. Be kind to yourself, be open to feedback when it comes (and learn to distinguish constructive feedback from destructive feedback) and enjoy the exploration of your world and characters. 

You are not alone in all of this. If you can, join a group of writers you can talk with, exchange ideas, get feedback from or just exchange memes (the ultimate bonding experience). Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone.

[nyraxodeyer]

It was a scoff that rang clear as day when she spoke, he wouldn’t believe it, not when everything pointed to the opposite. In other times, maybe, it all depended, but had this been any other occasion, had she set off to rescue anyone else, maybe sympathy might have been a thing he showed. Something he was sure she would deem him incapable of, and tonight he would prove that right. Her shivering form did set off a feeling, but it hadn’t been strong enough to act on. Because it wasn’t anyone she sped off to find. It was the person that had tried to kill him. She had made a choice, and so had he. Time healed all, wasn’t that how the saying goes? Except Theo didn’t need healing. Some also say that time is unforgiving, but live long enough and time becomes a speck. Kadir should have been a speck, an insignificant piece in their lives, but that only seemed the case in his life. Memories were unforgiving and all rushed forward now, and everywhere he looked, Theo saw a face that he should’ve killed two hundred years ago. 

“The love we must keep,” he repeated, “Oh, you sure are quite the comedian tonight, darling. Using my words against me, for what? Gain the upper hand? Spin this on me? I didn’t need you to have a grandiose display of grief, we may have cared a lot for keeping up an image for the public, but god forbid if the roles were reversed, I would have never dropped all we had in the blink of an eye.” Maybe he had been set on too many expectations from her, like in past times where he took more of the responsibilities of the town and being a clan leader, he should have done the same after all she had never held quite the level of charisma as him. With a heavy sigh at this realisation, Theo shot back the rest of his drink, “Now you’re going to fault me on last names? The way your mind twists and turns things into arguments should be studied. It’s rather phenomenal.” To carry this on, he needed more than one dose. Topping up his drink again he shook his head, “A sign of the times, if you need a reason. And it simply stuck. If you wanted me to take yours on, why wait till now to bring it up? I would’ve considered it.” It seemed ridiculous to state such a thing, and entirely derailed the point of their talk, but knowing her and how she loved to pick on his words or even think on a tangent when they went unaddressed, this foolishness had to be dealt with. “You do realise silence speaks for a lot? Denial and defence only nothing compared to indifference. And so what? What I said was out of hurt. Seven months of it.”    

It was another disbelieving scoff at her words, but rather than the sharp, biting words that spewed from him, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head, gaze falling into the empty glass as he truly wished for once that this had started off differently. “You still captivate me, love, why do you think I’ve always returned to you? Why do you think I’ve kept my word? You’re the only one I will ever truly have love for. You can choose to believe that not, it doesn't matter, I know where your true feelings lie. But yes, there’s one more thing.” It was horrid timing, after all the aggression that spilled from him leaving behind a husk of creature, he should’ve retired for the night, give into the humanness and sleep but instead Theo displayed a redundant use of vampiric speed as he shot of too his quarters, returning in a flash with a small velvet box that if given more time could’ve been executed better. He opened the lid first, gently brushing at the pillowy part eyes on the golden swirls of her name மீனா that was delicately attached to a chain but as thumb moved closer Theo snapped out and closed it in a second, not wanting to be accused of tainting her name further even in necklace form. “I wanted to give it to you in the  morning, but…” he trailed off with a shug and slid the gift to her, “It was all I could manage in the short time I had.” The flowers were not the thing he had wandered the streets of Lunar Cove for, in fact he never wished to venture out, but having missed major holidays, her birthday was not one he wanted to add to the list, “Might not mean much coming from me of all people, but happy birthday.”

Meena hardly blinked as she stood painstakingly still. His cutting laughter filling the silence as her dark eyes remained hyper focused on a blank spot on the wall straight ahead. Not bothering to tilt her chin to meet his gaze, Meena, having found herself in this same spot enough times, was able to picture every detail that his expression likely looked like. "Don't believe me or do," Her drained and raspy voice finally broke through his bitter tittering notes. The choice was his. But, as she stood there, still drenched in the icy water of the February Sound she had dove into hours ago to rescue Kadir, teeth lightly chattering, she couldn't find it in herself to care if he mistook her honesty for an act. These days it seemed like everyone had their own opinion of her, so why would he be any different?

Finally, after a prolonged pause, Meena moved to placed the straw she had held out for him back down on the surface of the counter. Her chilled fingers wrapping themselves around the glass she had fixed for herself, bringing it up to her lips as she made note of how he, out of the corner of her eyes, was pouring some brandy into his glass without bothering to ask if she may like some too. Typical. They had been in each other's lives for over two hundred years and he couldn't even tell when she was or wasn't being genuine, but she was the one who didn't know him? She understood why he laughed. The thought alone was humorous to say the least. He was mad that she was liar when he was the one who had turned her into one. He had molded the passionate, fiery and naive girl he met in the alleyway into a ghost among paper dolls and then had the audacity to scoff at the empty shell she had become.

"I can be, but that hardly equates to the situation at hand," She told him. Her voice soft as she presented him with a nonchalant shrug before she lifted her glass of blood up to him before taking a small sip. "And what was I supposed to do, Theodore Moore?" She hummed lightly out, her eyes following her glass as she placed it back down against the counter top. Her fingers lightly tracing along the rim without an ounce of venom in her voice. She was far too tired for such a thing. "I was already mourning you in private. Would you have preferred me to make scene in public as well? But, wasn't it you who used to scold me for such a thing? You used to go on and on about the public image of the happy couple in love we must keep up or have you forgotten?" She noted. Her gaze finally lifting back up from that of the counter as she calmly pointed out, "As for jumping so easily into being a widow, I see you have absolutely no problem dropping your surname off of mine. And yet, now that you mention it, why is it that I've always gone by Raja-Moore and yet you've always been just Moore, hm? I have never once insulted your name. I may not have denied the rumors or defended it either, but you've been in town for how long, Teddy? A few weeks? And how many conversations have you had where you've dragged my name through the mud? It's a small town and I am the Mayor. You don't think I hear of how you speak of me? How you've always spoken of me?" Theo might not have outright insulted her to whoever would listen as he was doing now, but the way she spoke of him after he died was quite synonymous with how he spoke of her throughout the duration of their marriage. Maybe worse on his part, for although she hardly spoke highly of him now, she had never referred to him as a prize to be one or viewed him quite the object he viewed her to be.

"You can scorn me for whatever you'd like. For not finding you soon enough, for no longer being the captivating girl you first met, or whatever other complaint against me you may have, but if it is honesty that you seek? A part of me has and will always love you, Teddy Moore. I just don't particularly like you all too much Now, if you have nothing else to get off your chest, I've had a long night and I think I'd rather like to head upstairs."

[dreamescapeswriting]

All I want ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

PAIRING: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

GENRE: Angst, fake dating, established relationship, fluffy ending

A/N: Hope this is okay for you!

The day had started off so brilliantly, Jungkook had been texting you to arrange a romantic weekend away together to make up for the last couple of months of awfulness but now it felt as though your world was falling apart. That and your anniversary was coming up this weekend so he wanted to take you somewhere to get away together. But now you were staring down at the magazine in your hands you could have screamed out in heartbreak as you saw the photo that was splashed across the front page. Lip locking with someone that wasn't you, making out with the devil.

"Y/n? I'm waiting?!" You stared through the glass window at your boss who was smirking at you, she knew what was going on and why that magazine had been placed on your desk that morning. The front page was splashed with images of her and Jungkook making out at the side of the Han River. Taking in a deep breath you got up from your desk and picked up the magazine, slipping it into the reviews of her latest book and walked into her room. 

"You have a meeting with BigHit this afternoon," You told her as you tried to act as though you hadn't seen the magazine, despite her being the one that had placed it onto the desk in the first place. 

"Is Guky going to be there?" You cringed at the nickname that she had for him but you bit down on your tongue nodding your head at her.

"You and Jungkook have a date tonight in his favourite restaurant." What you meant by that was your favourite restaurant, it was where Jungkook had given you a promise ring before he went on his first tour when you were dating. The longer you stared down at the desk thinking about your time together you thought back on the first time he told you about all of this. This being the fake dating contract that was going on between him and your boss Miss Ko Moon-Young. 

The whole world felt as though it had frozen around you as Jungkook told you what he was being told to do by BigHit and it just seemed off to you. Why would Jungkook need to fake date someone to gain more fame when he was in one of the largest boy bands in the world. The contract was sitting on the kitchen table in front of you, he'd already crossed the T's and dotted the I's without even asking you how you would feel about this. After a four year relationship, you figured that he would have at least asked if you would be okay with him fake dating someone.

"Baby it's just for a couple of months...It's not for me it's for her, BigHit needs her reputation to go up as they're signing her." You scoffed at his piss-poor attempt at making it seem as though it was no big deal. The author who was supposed to be fake dating is Ko Moon-Young and she was one of the most well-known authors in the writing world and not because she was good at writing. Her writing was exceptional but it was her personality that she was mostly known for. Being awful to her fans, being nasty with every person she met. The woman would do anything she could to get what she wanted, which included stealing from restaurants she ate at. Stealing things from the people she dated because she just wanted the things she saw. Nothing would stand in her way. The woman was dreadful, you'd always been taught that if you had nothing nice to say than to keep your mouth shut but she was the exception to that rule. Standing up from the table you grabbed the plates from your dinner the two of you had shared and began to load up the dishwasher,

"You mean her reputation needs saving," You grumbled as you shut the dishwasher turning around to look at him as you folded your arms over your chest. Sighing to himself he looked at you, he knew that you weren't going to like the idea of it but when BigHit told him to do something it wasn't as though he had much of a choice. He smiled weakly at you as he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he looked into your eyes. 

"She's your boss you know, you know what she's like." You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head. Although she was your boss it didn't mean you had to like her. The woman made your life a living hell, always making you do something she could have done for herself.

"Baby, you know that I love you, nothing will stop me from loving you." You hummed sarcastically in response to him and tried to walk away but he pushed you against the countertop and forced you to look into his eyes. He wasn't going to let you walk away without talking about it first.

"Ko is nothing to me, we're the ones that have been together for four years. Nothing is going to make me forget that," You looked into his eyes as you tried not to get mad at him for all of this, 

"You could have told me before signing it," You mumbled as you thought about it more and more, biting down on your lip as you realised what they would have to do together. All of the things that you wanted to do with him in public, the events, the walking around like a real couple and not having to hide in the house all of the time. Pretending as though you didn't know him and hiding whenever you're out in public and someone happens to stare at him too much and realise who he was. 

"I didn't have a choice, I had to sign it," You pressed your head into his chest as you sighed, Jungkook kissed the top of your head and held onto you tightly making you relax against him.

"Now, come up to bed and let's get some sleep?" You hummed at him again and looked over at the clock on the wall, 

"You can't stay. You have an interview with Miss Moon-Young tomorrow," You mumbled, as much as you would have loved him to stay close to you all night you knew if he stayed in your place he ould never leave and if he ever did he'd be late. Manager Sejin was already mad at you enough for making him late a lot, 

"I'll set an alarm." He whined as you started pushing him towards the front door, you shook your head at his protest. 

"Sejin-Oppa already hates me, I'm not letting you make him hate me more or we'll never be able to out our relationship." It was the truth. Sejin was the one in charge of deciding if Jungkook's relationship was allowed to be outed to the public and he'd declined all of the chances you had to announce it.

"Are you even listening to me Y/n?" You stared at her as she questioned you again, you shook your head, 

"Sorry...I was-"

"Thinking about Jungkook? He's so cute, isn't he!? The kiss was so random! I wasn't expecting it!" She screamed out as she stared at you. Of course, she knew that you and Jungkook were dating. It had been revealed to her when she'd been asking what was going to happen between her and Jungkook. Kissing was off the table, you didn't want them to kiss, you didn't even want them to be near one another and she knew that which was exactly why you knew she'd been the one to put the magazine down for you to see. 

"He is. I hope you guys can enjoy tonight," You were doing your best to seem as happy about this as possible, trying to be as kind as you could about all of this. The best way to get through it was to ignore it, the contract had been extended by two more months and this was the final one. Pretty soon there would be a mutual break coming up and you would be able to have your boyfriend back, all to yourself. 

"I'm thinking! This weekend when we all go on our little holiday I can steal him for a few hours?! We can get seen and then you can have him whatever it is he has planned." You frowned as she mentioned the holiday. 

"W-What?" You questioned, staring into her eyes as the smile on your lips slowly began to fade and an evil smirk began to grow on her face. 

"Didn't Jungkook tell you? The only way you were allowed to take your little anniversary holiday was if I came along?" A shiver ran through you as you dropped your clipboard onto her desk in shock. 

"I-I'm taking my lunch." You mumbled quickly as you began to back out of the room, bumping into the door frame as you began to take off and out of the building as you headed straight to Jungkook. Calling his phone and asking him to meet you at the back entrance of the BigHit building where you would always meet up with one another. 

"She's coming with us?!" You yelled as he pushed you into one of the empty dance studios, shutting the door and leaning against it as he waited for you to get the yelling out of your system. When he turned around you were standing with your hands on your hips waiting for him to say something about everything that was going on. 

"It was the only way we would be able to go out baby. I thought you would be happy." He told you as he looked at you, he was doing everything he could to keep your relationship working while also maintaining his job but it was getting harder. 

"Happy? Yes. I would love my horrible boss following me and my boyfriend around all weekend." You held back the tears that were threatening to come out, the one thing you didn't want to do was cry in front of him when you knew he was having a hard time with all of this as well. Taking in a couple of deep breathes you shook your head at him, 

"I'm sorry...I just- She put that magazine of you and her on my desk and then she dropped the shell on me that she would be coming with us?" He shook his head as he brought you into a tight hug wanting to hold onto you for as long as he could, the two of you were finally alone for the first time in months. You'd hardly had any time together since his "relationship" with her, it had always been them needing to be around one another all of the time. Leaving you and Jungkook on the outskirts of the relationship, 

"I promise that once I'm seen landing with her in the airport and we're seen checking it, that's it. We can do whatever we want, whatever our hearts desire," He promised you as he kissed your lips softly, 

"She'll leave us alone?" He nodded his head at you and you smiled weakly at him, deciding that if she wasn't going to be around you all of the time that you could do it. 

"Then I suppose that's okay." You mumbled to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kisses him, whining against his lips as you realised just how long it had been since you'd kissed him. 

"I miss you," You whimpered as you pulled at his shirt to open the buttons, you felt the smirk on his lips grow in size as he began to push you against the mirror behind you. Pulling at the shirt you were wearing as he tried to open it, he'd missed you sneaking into the building to have some fun together, 

"I miss you too baby," He panted as he began kissing down your neck, biting into your skin when someone tapped on the door softly making you groan out. 

"Miss Ko is calling for Y/n, she wants her to come back from her lunch early," You heard Sejin say from the door making you bite down on your lip and look into Jungkook's eyes. 

"Just think of our weekend, our time together." He whispered to you as he kissed your lips one last time, watching you walk out of the room sighing to himself as soon as you were gone.

"When are you going to tell her?" Sejin asked as he walked into the dance studio, closing the door behind him as he looked at Jungkook for an answer. 

"When the time is right-"

"She'll see it in the magazines sooner or later," Jungkook rolled his eyes making his way out of the room as he tried to think of the best way to tell you that the fake dating was being moved to a fake engagement. 

The plane ride to your surprise holiday was only short, Jungkook had taken the time to fly you all to a small private island where you could be alone for most of the trip. The plane for you had been awful though since you weren't supposed to be seen with Jungkook you were sitting in Economy while Jungkook and Miss Ko were up in first class, Sejin in business class. You thought you would have at least been placed there since Miss Ko was your boss but it turned out you were just shoved to the back. 

"Baby you're going to love it," Jungkook whispered as he covered your eyes. He'd gotten you to meet him outside his room in the hotel and was now leading you down the beach with his hands over your eyes. Your hands clutching onto his forearms as you tried not to scream out, you always liked being able to see where you were going but he was keeping everything a secret. The only reason you knew you were on the beach was that you could feel the sand and hear the waves crashing down against the sand. 

"Can I just watch? I mean I already know we're on a beach," You giggled as you felt Jungkook struggle to walk you around the beach. 

"Because this is supposed to be a special surprise," He whined as he moved his hands away from your eyes, 

"Anything with you is special baby," You promised him as you turned to look at him, not noticing the way he had arranged somewhere for you both to sit. 

"I know but, the last few months have been so hard on you so I wanted to make this a way of making it up to you," He whispered as he kisses your lips softly, that was when he turned you around to look at the firepit on the beach. Sitting beside it was a picnic blanket, picnic basket and pillows laying all over the blanket so that the two of you could sit comfortably.

"Jungkook this is-" You stopped talking when he bent down and went into the basket pulling out a see-through box to reveal a cake. 'Happy Anniversary Y/n!' Written across the front in bright pink icing,

"Jungkook it's adorable, thank you." You whispered as you looked at him. All the months of the two of you not being able to be together, went out of your mind and all you could think about was the time you had spent together. All of the good memories flooding back into your head.

"I got us some take-out food because I couldn't cook, which was my original plan." He laughed awkwardly at the thought of it. His original plan was to take you to his place and cook for you but with the recent news of his "relationship", he couldn't do any of the things you used to. Taking you out on cute dates in the day when he could hide, or taking you to his place or going to yours. Everything was so much harder now.

"Hey, this is perfect. This is all I could want." You promised him as you sat down on the blanket and got ready to eat some of the food that he had bought with him. 

The night had been perfect in every sense of the word. Jungkook had spent the entire night holding you, after you finished eating you both just laid down on the blankets together. Enjoying the time alone you had with one another for the first time in a long time. 

"There's one thing I can't wait to do," You admitted to him as you rolled over and placed your chin on his chest just staring into his eyes, 

"What's that?" He hummed as he began to run his fingers up and down your back slowly, staring back into your eyes. 

"Fall asleep with your arms wrapped around me-" The sentence was interrupted when you heard your boss's shriek fill the air instantly ruining the moment within seconds. 

"And it's gone," You mumbled sitting up and wrapping your own arms around your body and rubbed your skin as though you were cold. Guilt swamped Jungkook as he looked at you and then to Miss Ko who was squeezing herself down onto the blanket. 

"I'm bored, you said this would be a good trip but there's nothing here for me to do!" She cried out, picking up some of the cake Jungkook had brought and began eating it without being offered any. 

"Move over, the sand is ruining my dress." She hissed at you making you move, she was still your boss at the end of the day and you couldn't be mad at her for ordering you around. 

"Miss Ko, we're having a date." Jungkook tried to tell her but she just ignored him, picking up some frosting on her finger and holding up to his lips. 

"You should eat this, it's lovely. Have you tried some Y/n?" You hummed in answer to her turning to look at Jungkook with some help on making her leave but Jungkook just smiled at Miss Ko. 

"Jungkook...I'm getting tired, maybe we should go back to your room?" You questioned with a smile on your lips but it was quickly removed when Miss Ko told you that she and Jungkook were in the room next to one another with a conjoining door to their rooms. 

"Jungkook. We have that meeting tomorrow with Sejin remember, we have to go and pick out rings." You frowned at her and then looked at Jungkook who was avoiding your gaze. 

"Rings?" You asked, turning to your boss who nodded at you happily. 

"Engagement rings!" The world seemed to stop for you a second time as you stared at Jungkook waiting for him to tell you that she was lying. It was all some fever dream you were experiencing or Miss Ko was just trying to wind you up but he stayed quiet. 

"We're going to announce our engagement next week-" You stood up making her stop talking and walked away from Jungkook and her on the beach. Not wanting to sit there any longer than you had to. He had promised you it would just be a few months, nothing longer than four was what he told you and yet here you were six months later and it seemed to only be extending more and more. 

Later in the night, you figured you were probably overreacting to everything. Jungkook had been trying to call you since you left the beach but you ignored him. Sending him to voicemail while you showered and tried to sleep for the night but it was proving to be difficult. You were having a losing battle with your head and wanted to at least talk to Jungkook about it. Talk it through with him and confirm that their relationship was all still for sure like he told you it was.

You were opening his door with the key he'd given you earlier that day, he wanted you to have it so you could stop by and see him whenever you wanted. 

"Jungkook I know I shouldn't have stormed off earlier. I was just mad when-" Sitting on the bed with Jungkook was a half-dressed Miss Ko, in nothing but an unbuttoned dress shirt and her makeup smeared across her face. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at them, sitting so close together it looked as though they'd just gotten out of a make-out session. 

"Y/n it isn't what it looks like!" Jungkook jumped off the bed but you were already crying as you stared at them. The tears you had been holding in for the last six months finally flowing free as you stared at them both. Your breaking point had been passed and it felt as though your heart was being ripped out of your chest. 

"I quit. I'll be on the next flight home, Miss Ko. Jungkook I'll make sure all of your things are ready for you to pick up at my place." You didn't give him a chance to explain himself or chase after you as you walked out of the room. Leaving Jungkook yelling out your name as you burst into sobs, slamming your hotel door and whimpering into your hands. 

The airport was empty thanks to it almost being 3 am which meant you were free to tear up and cry into your hands as much as you wanted without getting too many weird looks. You'd grabbed the cheapest flight possible home and booked it right away, heading to the airport so you couldn't bump into Jungkook.

"Babe!" His voice cried out as he rushed up behind you in the waiting area of the airport, you ignored him. Keeping your eyes forward as though you didn't know him but that wasn't going to stop him. He sat down beside you and waited for you to look at him. 

"Y/n please, she was trying to kiss me but I pushed her off me," You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing at him as he tried to talk his way out of this. 

"Her shirt was open-"

"She walked into my room like that! You know what she's like! She's a fucking bitch," He cut you off as he began to let tears roll down his face. Your flight number was called over the speaker and you got up from the seat, ignoring Jungkook as he raced after you. 

"Please Y/n, you know I would never do something like that to you," You shook your head as you listened to him. 

"I used to think that, now I'm not so sure...Were you even going to tell me about the fake engagement?" He nodded his head but you just let your tears flow down your cheeks and tried to walk away from him but he stood in front of you to stop you from moving. 

"You're making a scene. People will see us together-"

"Let them! I will scream it from the rooftops that you're the one I love and not Miss Ko Moon-Young!" Your hand on your bag dropped and you cover his mouth but he stopped you as he stepped away. 

"I, JEON JUNGKOOK AM HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH Y/N Y/L/N!" He screamed out loudly gaining the attention of some stewardesses and some passengers that were all turning to look at you both now.

"Jungkook. Your contract-"

"I'll rip it up if it means I lose you I don't care! I need you in my life Y/n please," He pleaded with you, gripping onto you as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close to his body.

"You're all I want. I didn't kiss her, she tried to kiss me and she unbuttoned her clothes." You stared into his eyes and you smiled weakly, he had always been a terrible liar which was how you knew this was the truth.

"I'll tell Sejin I want no part in it, that I want our relationship to come out. You're the only one I care about," He promised before bringing you into a passionate kiss in the middle of the airport. 

"Come back with me, we can spend all our time in your room." He said to you as he kisses your lips again, looking into your eyes and smiling weakly. 

"You'll be in trouble," You tried to tell him but he shook his head, 

"I don't care, I have you and that's all I care about," He whispered as he took your hand in his and began leading you out of the airport and towards the taxi that was waiting for you both to get inside of. 

The very public relationship between Miss Ko and Jungkook was cut short as soon as Jungkook told his manager that he was no longer interested in doing the contract anymore. You still quit your job with Miss Ko not wanting to work for her anymore, you weren't interested in working for someone who was willing to ruin your relationship with someone you loved. 

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[kairos-polaris]

A schism of magic

Chapte 1

Marinette finds a golden watch. Opening it changed a lot in her life.

***

She remembers being eight and looking at the Untempered Schism. She was prepared to see everything but not magic and gods the size of her hand. The image left a lingering need to run in her bones but she was very good at resisting the urge.

***

Marinette was tired. Exhausted. Worn out. Bone-tired.

Why? Well, studying, working on commissions, and saving Paris from Hawkmoth at the same time wasn't easy. Her schedule was packed so tightly, she hadn't slept more than four hours for almost three months.

Maybe, I should close commissions. This will give me more free time. I can also work more on finding Hawkmoth. And focus on my education,' Marinette thought. She looked around her room. Everything was calm. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Kwamis were similar to kids in one aspect: if they're quiet, they're making a mess somewhere. Marinette sighed and rubbed her forehead. She really was too tired to clean up anything.

Marinette sighed again and got up. Apparently, being awake for 64 hours straight wasn't good for her health because Marinette felt her head spin and everything went dark for a moment. "I need to take a nap," she muttered to herself while swaying softly. "Maybe consuming so much caffeine isn't good for me".

Finding kwamis turned out to be relatively easy. They were all sitting on her bed, next to a golden fob watch with engraved circular designs. It was a beautiful watch, Marinette had to admit.

"Where did you find it? I don't remember having anything similar," Marinette frowned. "Did you steal it?"

Judging by kwamis' guilty looks they did steal it. The next questions were how, when, why, and from whom? Marinette sighed inwardly. It wasn't going to be easy.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Marinette asked after several minutes of silence. Wayzz flew forward as the most responsible one.

"We wanted to explore a little bit," they've started, "and we accidentally flew into your parents room. Immediately after I realized where we were I made them leave. But in my hurry I didn't notice that Fluff did not go with us. And I think Fluff can tell more now."

The kwami of evolution had the decency to look guilty under Wayzz's glare. Fluff flew closer to her, trying to appear innocent. "I'm not sorry, Guardian. I had to do this for the stability of timelines. You will understand it later. This watch contains your consciousness. It is you, Guardian."

"What do you mean, Fluff?" she asked, a small frown forming between her eyebrows. "How can a fob watch be me?"

"You're a Time Lady. This watch is a part of the mechanism called the Chameleon Arc. From what I know your people use it as a perfect disguise. Chameleon Arc changes your biology and creates false memories. You have to open it," Fluff didn't wait for her answer and just dropped it on her knees.

Fluff's words seemed to be too unlikely to be true. Why would she want to change her species or create false memories? Why didn't Tikki say anything if it were true?

"Are you trying to pull a prank on me, Fluff?" she asked tiredly. She wasn't in the mood for games.

"Just open it, Guardian. I used the Burrow to make sure this is the right time. It's very important for you to open this watch."

It didn't seem real. More like from a tv show with aliens. But she was the Guardian of multiple gods. She knew that aliens existed (hard not to, considering how everybody talks about Superman, Martian Manhunter, Green Lanterns and others). So there was a chance that Fluff was telling the truth. The only way to find out was to open the watch. If she wasn't a Time Lord, nothing would change. And if she was … well, they would deal with it later.

A small click of the opened clasp and a bright golden light blinded her. Several seconds later the room was filled with her pained screams. And then she blacked out.

Tikki wasn't panicking. She wasn't! Nothing Plagg says can be trusted. So don't believe him when he says that Tikki was flying around her Chosen and babbling 100 words per minute.

But what if Marinette didn't wake up? What if she forgot about Tikki and the time they've spent together? What if she didn't want to see them anymore?

"Urgh, it shouldn't have hurt so much. I shouldn't have blacked out," Marinette's voice interrupted Tikki's inner monologue. Kwami immediately flew to her face to assure herself that Marinette was alright.

"How are you feeling? What has gone wrong?" Tikki asked worriedly while flying around Marinette's head.

"I'm okay, Tikki. I just didn't expect it to hurt so much. I didn't completely believe this watch could do anything to me." She breathed out to regulate her heartbeats. "I'm just happy… my parents aren't home. I don't know how to explain this to them."

Fluff flew closer and nuzzled into her cheek. "I'm sorry, Guardian. I didn't think something like that would happen," Fluff said, their eyes shining with regret. "What is your name, Guardian?"

"My name is Morana," she answered slowly, her head still pounding from the pain. Using her full name felt somewhat wrong. Her entire family was dead. Her home planet was most likely destroyed in the War, because the Universe was standing and Rassilon wasn't the type to change plans.

"Why did you use this thing in the first place? Was it because of the Time War?" Fluff asked before every kwami flew to them in an attempt to close their mouths.

Morana stayed silent. She trusted kwamii, she even loved them. But the Time War changed her so much that she couldn't recognise herself. Seeing death every day and being aware that your people sacrificed civilisations to win just one battle wasn't easy for her. And she didn't want to relieve everything she had seen or done.

Kwamis seemed to understand this, giving her time to collect her thoughts. She opened her mouth to start talking, but… she couldn't say anything. Every word felt too weak to describe why she had used the Chameleon Arc and what had led to this.

"It's not so easy," she started again. "I.. A lot of things featured in my decision to use it. I wasn't technically running away from the war. I was ordered to leave. You can call me a backup plan. But I was attacked while leaving. My Time Capsule is still young so she was heavily injured. And because of it I was injured, too.

Then I finally was in this Universe. Heavily bleeding, I decided that regeneration was my best choice. Something went wrong, again, and I looked like a six years old. Using the Chameleon Arc was part of Lord Rassilon's plan so that's what I did."

Kwamis stayed silent. It was clear that Morana didn't want to talk about it and they would respect her wishes. Some wounds should be left alone so they heal properly.

"You should go to sleep. You were running on sheer spite, and becoming a Time Lady again was hard for your body," Wayzz said. He was always the most responsible and caring kwami. Morana smiled at him and silently went to her bed. She had a lot of work cut out for her. She could only hope she wouldn't wake up from a nightmare.

***

Waking up a Time Lord again felt strange. Utterly strange. It must be because she had used the Chameleon Arc immediately after regeneration. Not everything was set and she should have waited a little bit. Well, what's done is done. She couldn't change anything.

What she could do was moan to kwamis about aches in seemingly all her body parts. Her head felt close to exploding from all the pressure. She could feel neurons snapping into place. It would go much easier if she were on Gallifrey. Or at least in the Zero Room. Regenerating anywhere else was awfully painful.

Due to her newly discovered heightened hearing she heard Sabine's steps. The woman most likely wanted to wake up Marinette so she wouldn't be late for school. Morana didn't want to move, less go to a public place before she could actually control her body.

"Marinette, you are going to be late if you don't get up right now," Sabine said from somewhere in the room. Morana was too overwhelmed with the amount of new smells that came with Sabine.

"I'm sorry, Maman. I have a really bad headache. Everything hurts," she said, desperately trying to tall like Marinette would. Her usual speech patterns were too proper for a teenager. However, it was a problem for later. At the very moment Mora just wanted her head to stop pounding. A very tiny part of her wanted that pain to last, this way she would not have to be confronted with silence. No telepathic specie deserved to be completely alone in their heads.

"Do you need something, sweetie?" the woman was clearly concerned, more than her actual mother ever was. Morana felt a small pang in her chest, but brushed it off immediately as an aftereffect of regeneration going wrong. "I'm going to be in the bakery, just call me when you need anything, okay?"

Kwamis flew out immediately after Sabine had left. They looked very concerned for her health, and it warmed her heart a lot. Time Lords were too proper to care for anyone other than themselves. Morana sighed inwardly, because doing so outwardly would be too painful. She was so used to resenting her own people that she forgot that they are dead. Properly dead. No crossing time streams would let her see even her most annoying cousins. And it pained her more than she wanted to admit.

"Can we help somehow, Master?" Wayzz asked softly, adjusting his voise tone so it wouldn't hurt her head. Marinette appreciated the effort. She really did. She did not appreciate being called Master.

"Plese, never call me Master, Wayzz," she said weakly. "I know a Time Lord who call himself that. He's one of the biggest annoyances Gallifrey had ever known. He had also destroyed my lab once so I don't like being reminded of him," she explained, seeing kwamis' wondering gazes. She didn't mention that reminder of the home she had lost hurt her a lot, but judging by Tikki's and Wayzz's reactions, they understood her without any words needed

"What can we do to help you, Morana? You never answered," Tikki said, carefully gouging her reaction. Morana sighed, outwardly this time. She hoped they moved on from the subject.

"Nothing, unless you can get me Gallifrey," she let out a bitter laugh. "Or my Time Capsule. Even just being there would help me greatly. But, alas, I don't know where she is. I can't move to get there anyway."

"I can try to search for it, Guardian," Barkk offered. Morana stayed silent for a moment. It would seem like a great idea if she didn't know that her Time Capsule couldn't be detected if she herself didn't approve. And Morana couldn't possibly do it from her bedroom in Paris. That's what she explained to the dog kwami. It, apparently, insulted the god a lot, because they started loudly explaining how nothing could hinder their search and that they were the best in it before remembering about Morana's headache. It seemed to shut them up pretty fast, but Morana just appreciated the silence.

"Let's tall about this later, when my brain won't try to explode and my body will be more used to… a lot of things, actually," she offered, because she really didn't want to argue with anyone. Especially with kwamis. "I'm going to sleep. Hope it will help me."

***

Sleep didn't help. Painkillers didn't help. Which was obvious, because human medicine could never help a Time Lord. Especially after regeneration.

But Marinette did feel better. Tea, apparently, helped, because after only one cup her head stopped hurting so much and she could do anything without being overwhelmed. Marinette appreciated it, but was too baffled by the realisation. She even regretted that they never had it on Gallifrey. It would help a lot of Time Lords. Especially during the Time War, because everyone was burning through their regeneration like… like Doctor!

"What are we going to do now?" she asked kwamis. Morana knew they considered her too weak to do anything and it irritated her a lot. Time Lords were a superior species, regeneration was their strength, not a weakness.

"You have to understand one thing, Guardian," Wayzz started, always the peacemaker. "We don't think you are weak or anything like that. But I personally believe that you need more rest. And you won't get it while fixing your Time Capsule. It would take a lot of time and effort to get her into proper shape, considering that you had to regenerate from all the damage," Wayzz explained slowly, like one would to a child.

Morana knew his words had logic. If she saw her Time Capsule, she wouldn't rest until everything was fixed. And it would cause major problems in the long run for her health. It could even force her to regenerate and she wasn't keen on changing her bodies like gloves. She still hated it.

"Okay, we will wait," she said after a long moment of silence and kwamis started cheering immediately. "For now we have to think how I am supposed to act." She was met with bland and confused looks. "My speech patterns, my behaviour and even the way I hold myself is drastically different from Marinette. Some things have stayed, like my intellect, curiosity and need to learn more, but a lot of Marinette was influenced by growing up as a human. I was raised completely differently."

"I can take you wherever you want, Guardian," Kaalki courteously offered. "You can change their memories a little bit, take some money and leave. I believe that you know how to hack computers."

Kaalki's offer made a lot of sense and in any other situation Morana would agree immediately. But it wasn't any other situation. "I can't leave because of Hawkmoth," she said quietly.

Mora was also ashamed of the fact that she still hadn't caught the man. It was embarrassing for a Time Lady of her status. At least she had another reason to not leave immediately to find her Time Capsule. She would be too tempted to leave and never return. Time Lords aren't meant to meddle with humans and history in general. "But the Doctor did so," a traitorous voice, the most rebellious part of her, whispered. You envy his freedom but yet you are unable to let go of Time Lords's ideals. You have to choose one day.". And that was a conversation for another day.

The next hour was spent discussing Marinette's behaviour and how Morana could start slowly changing, so her classmates (she had graduated from the Academy years ago and she still had to go to a human school and she hated that) wouldn't notice. It wouldn't be very hard, considering they could only see Lila and her pretty tales.

There was also an issue of Marinette's crush on one Adrien Agreste. It was borderline creepy and hurt Marinette's mental health. Thank Rassilon, her Time Lord consciousness was woken up just in time. In the back of her mind Morana could feel possible outcomes of the situation with Adrien and Lila and she liked none of them

Lila and her lies were another reason for Morana to burn bright red from shame. Marinette losing her composure and completely not being to defend herself was unbecoming for a Time Lady. Her parents and Academy teachers had taught her better than that.

That liar was a completely different issue. On one hand, she would keep attention diverted from Morana. On the other, she wasn't sure the liar wouldn't try to discredit her even further. Morana preferred staying hidden rather than attracting unnecessary attention. And the repeat of her infamous expulsion would do exactly that.

There was also a matter of pride. Her Time Lord part was enraged that a human girl thought herself better than her. Morana wanted to destroy the liar, make her reap what she had sowed. But deep down she knew that destroying a minor would not help her feel better.

"I want to deal with Lila without exposing her myself," she said out loud. Voicing out her thoughts sometimes helped. "I have to make someone else do it, but who?"

"You can subtly help your classmates find the truth," Tikki offered. "You are more eloquent and confident than Marinette. You wouldn't lose your head if someone started doubting you."

"It would work if I didn't change so much. I don't want to attract attention but talking to them will make them notice me. No, it won't work," Marinette shook her head. She stayed silent before a small spark ignited in her eyes. "I can make teachers expose her! I will get rid of Bustier and Damocles. This way not only will the Lila situation be resolved, but it will prevent something similar happening in the future!"

"That's an amazing idea!" Tikki exclaimed. "How do you want to do this?" But Marinette was already deep in work, cursing human technology every now and then.

Not even two hours later Morana got up with a triumphant grin. "We have to wait and see the results for ourselves now," she said.

"What did you do, Guardian?" Wayzz asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Wait and see! It will be much more interesting!" Morana didn't wait to see kwamis's reaction and just bolted out of her room. Buying computer parts was high in her priority because there was no way she would ever work with human technology without adjusting it to her needs. She also wanted to change her bedroom. Pink was a lovely colour but a completely pink bedroom was too much for Morana.

***

Morana skipped two more school days, because of fatigue and random headaches. Every time she shut her eyes from pain she was reminded of Gallifrey and Zero Room. It wouldn't hurt so much if she were there.

On the third day Morana decided it was time to go and assess the situation. She also needed proof of Bustier's unprofessionalism and her enabling bullies. She also wanted to know if anyone saw through Lila's lies. It was highly unlikely but a Time Lady could hope.

Dressing up was a major problem. Morana and Marinette had as different tastes in clothes as it could be. One preferred soft lines and pastel colours, another favoured strict forms and traditional colours. Marinette's style was too casual for Morana, who was used to stuff robes and gigantic headpieces.

"I guess I have to work with what I have for now, and then buy more when I can," Morana thought.

"You look very different from Marinette, Mora," Tikki said after Morana finished getting dressed. "But it suits you. I bet you are used to completely different clothes."

Morana decided to change Marinette's style a little bit, forgoing pigtails and usual clothes. Instead, she chose a white shirt and dress pants. She put her hair up in a bun. It was just the perfect combination of casual and formal. Morana would still do anything to wear robes from Gallifreywhich she didn't even have because her home planet was destroyed.

"I am ready. Who is going to go to school with me today?" It was a tradition at that point for Marinette to take kwamis with her to school and Morana didn't want to change it. It was decided that Trixx and Wayzz would come with her.

Morana already felt a growing headache. Unfortunately, it wasn't because of her less than stellar regeneration, but knowing what kinds of troubles Trixx could trick Wayzz and Tikki into. Hopefully Tikki would reign them in.

"Do you think Chat Noir will be suspicious when he sees me?" she asked, causing Tikki to nervously gulp. Kwami of creation wasn't a good liar. Just like Marinette.

"No! You were always very serious and strict as Marinette! I am sure he wouldn't notice the difference!" Tikki ranted, nervousness obvious in her small movements. Did she get that from Marinette too?

Morana sighed and smiled as softly as she could. "I wasn't sure that Chat was in my class but your poor lying skills just admitted it," Tikki just looked away, embarrassment and shame of exposing Chat's identity were noticeable in her eyes. Morana bit her lip, contemplating whether she should stay silent or cheer up kwami. She didn't think long. "Hey, it's okay, Tikki. It's not your fault that I know that Adrien is Chat. Human and Time Lord brains work differently, so I could imagine how Chat's face looked without the mask. I'm sure magic would help protect his identity if you always knew that I'm a Time Lady."

Tikki wasn't convinced, guilt still lingering in her little body. The previous guardian being so against Ladybug and Chat Noir knowing each other's identity has influenced kwami more than Morana thought previously. Tikki more than Plagg, obviously. "The previous guardian was a coward and not the smartest man," Morana stopped, trying to pick words that wouldn't offend the old man too much. "We don't know what would happen if Ladybug or Chat Noir were akumatized. Knowing who the other is would help us a lot. We could work together as civilians."

"Yes, you are right, Morana," Tikki said, stifling a sob. She nuzzled into Morana's cheek with a content sigh. They stood like that for several long moments. Luckily, there was still time as Morana had got up earlier to not be late.

"We have to go now, Tikki. We don't want to be late." It pained her to refuse Tikki so obviously needed comfort. But Morana couldn't allow herself to be late. Unless

"You know what? We can stay for a little bit longer. I planned everything so I would be the first in the class. We have full ten minutes for ourselves," she said with more confidence than she felt. Changing plans to make someone feel better wasn't something Time Lords would respect. But Tikki was important for her and Morana would be damned if she left her dear friend sad and hurt.

Tikki squealed happily before taking Morana's finger and leading her to the chaise. Over the course of the next several minutes every kwami flew to her. Morana thanked them mentally as being with her friends made Tikki feel much better.

Morana was ashamed to admit that she, a Time Lady with very precise time senses, had lost track of time. Instead of ten minutes they've spent almost twenty cuddling and listening to everyone's stories. And because of her tardiness she was running late. But what was unusual for Morana was normal for Marinette.

"Well, at least nobody will be surprised. Everyone expects Marinette to be late. Never expected that being late will have good sides," she thought while running to school. Fortunately, the building wasn't too far from the bakery and her physique allowed her to run faster and longer.

Morana stopped running just mere meters before her class' doors. She had two choices: enter like a mess aka Marinette's usual way, or go in calmly and confidently. She would attract less attention if she chose the second option, but it can possibly attract more attention later. But it would work if she ran away immediately after dismantling Lila's empire. Yes, that was her best choice.

Morana took a deep breath and entered her class. Everything was just the way she had expected: everyone sitting around Lila and listening to her tales, Alix and Kim were arguing about something. What she hadn't expected were Rose and Juleka. They were sitting away from everyone else, talking in hushed voices. They were also looking at Lila and her court every few seconds, which was even more suspicious. Morana sighed, knowing that she hadn't predicted everything. Again. Great.

***

Everything was too calm. Lila continued entertaining class with her stories but never mentioned anyone famous. Juleka and Rose spent the whole day whispering about something, but they were talking too soft for Morana to hear anything. And, in the name of Rassilon, did that frustrate her

Judging by Bustier's calm demeanor, Morana's plan hasn't reached her yet. The same must have been true for Damocles, because the man was acting as usual. He was also too much of an awful actor to pretend everything is fine enough to fool Morana. No, she just had to be more patient. She had more than enough time for that.

The day turned out to be utterly boring considering Lila didn't try to start a drama, or force Adrien sit with her. Juleka and Rose weren't confronted despite acting suspicious the whole time. Nobody approached "Marinette". The worst part was trying to pretend that she didn't know everything better than teachers. Her eyes twitched every time Mendeleev said something proved wrong years ago. "Patience, humans still have to disprove that and you know it. You can't compare the Academy with even the best human university. Even ones in the 51st century weren't as good,". Being the smartest person in the whole school wasn't easy, as you can see.

"Marinette, we wanted to talk to you," Rose said timidly, Juleka holding her hand. Well, apparently she had been wrong about nobody approaching her. "Can we talk in private, please? I… We have something to tell you. It's very important."

Morana contemplated refusing them. They had believed Lila but something she really wanted why they had been acting so suspiciously the whole day.

"Yes, I don't mind," she said cautiously and immediately saw tension leave Rose's body. It was so easy to read her. "We can go to the bakery. I promise that my parents won't intrude."

Juleka and Rose started nodding frantically, obviously not wanting her to change her mind. It was proving to be very interesting.

Fortunately, the walk to the bakery was short because Rose looked like she would blow up from the need to spill all the information.

Morana led them to her room, stopping briefly to greet her parents. They were so busy they didn't even notice her. Hm, not surprising.

"Well, what did you want to tell me?" she asked when they were finally sitting in her room. Rose bit her lip and started fidgeting with her fingers. She looked at Juleka with a silent plea to start talking.

"We know that Lila is a liar," Juleka said so softly Morana wouldn't hear if not for her enhanced hearing. "Rose mentioned her while talking with Prince Ali and he explained that he had never met anyone named "Lila Rossi" or that his charity work is directed to children, not pollution. He also mentioned that Lila could be sued for using his family name in her own gain.

Rose then immediately ran to our class and told everyone just that. But that liar somehow managed to save herself by saying that she had mistaken Prince Ali for her another celebrity friend. Rose then got so angry she told everyone about a possible lawsuit and that shut up Lie-la pretty quickly. After that she stopped mentioning celebrities and started focusing on herself."

That explained everyone's behaviour pretty nicely. And she didn't even have to think for herself, everything was given on a silver plate. Just use the information however you want to.

"I am so sorry, Marinette! Forgive me for not believing you!" Rose exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes. Morana hugged her, pressing Rose's face into her chest, allowing her to cry and let out all of her emotions. She could be colder than ice sometimes, but she would never let a child cry. Especially one her human self considered a friend.

"It's okay, it's okay. I forgive you," she whispered into Rose's head, while drawing soothing circles on her back. "You know the truth and that's all I wanted."

That wasn't a lie per se but not completely a truth. Marinette only wanted her friends to believe her over Lila, but Morana wanted them all to pay for their foolishness. Fortunately, her maturity and those parts of her that still were Marinette won out and it was pretty easy to forgive Juleka and Rose.

"You are so nice, Marinette! I don't deserve your kindness!" Rose sobbed into her shoulder. "I was worried when you didn't come to school and wanted to visit you but Lila said that you wouldn't want to see me. And I listened to her! And I left you! Instead of me begging your forgiveness you are comforting me! I'm so so so sorry!"

Morana knew that Rose was a soft and nice person. She even expected her to be the first who apologized to her. She did not expect her to be so upset about it. She took a deep breath and took Rose's face in her hands. Tears were running down her red cheeks and she let out an ugly sob with every breath.

"It really is okay, Rose. I understand you and why you wouldn't believe me. I have not the best track record when it concerns Adrien," she said with a self-ironic smile, hoping it would make her feel better. And Rose did have a small smile. "I actually am happy that you have found the truth by yourself and went immediately to tell everyone. It shows how much you care about them."

"But… but you did the same!" Rose protested. "You knew that she was a liar and immediately decided to tell everyone! You knew how harmful her false promises were and acted to protect everyone! But they just thought you were jealous and it's so unfair!"

Morana smiled softly and wiped away remnants of Rose's tears. "You were very brave, Rose. You had seen them not believing me and still acted to protect them. Some part of you knew they wouldn't believe but you trusted them enough to ignore that voice. It's not your fault Lila knows how to change your words to fit her narrative."

"I'm also very sorry, Marinette. Luka likes you and I doubt he would if you actually stole necklaces and pushed people down the stairs," Juleka chuckled before realisation dawned on her. It looked like a lightbulb in her head was turned on. "If you actually pushed Lila down the stairs, she would be seriously injured. And she would require medical attention anyway."

Juleka continued listing Lila's most obvious lies but Morana didn't listen. She just grinned. Apparently, some of her classmates did have more than one brain cell. And it was the most fascinating thing seeing one of them use it properly. Was it why the Doctor spent so much time with humans? Was it the reason he took them to see the Universe? To see them grow and change? To make them see the world in a different light? If so, then Morana could finally understand why the Doctor had so many human companions. Maybe, after getting her Time Capsule back she would invite someone to go with her. It would be fun.

"... Marinette? Marinette? Are you listening?" Juleka's worried voice drew her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat the last bit again?" she asked, trying to look as sheepish as possible. Juleka and Rose exchanged a look that could be translated to "Marinette being Marinette and getting lost in thoughts as usual". Morana tried her hardest to not be offended, considering they weren't wrong but she did huff causing both girls to start laughing. At least Rose wasn't crying anymore.

"I asked what we could do to expose Lila. We could ask Jagged Stone to come. Or Clara. Or call Prince Ali," Juleka said after she stopped laughing.

"I don't think it's a good idea," she started. "Media would twist everything to fit their narrative. Why would a famous rockstar or a pop singer or an actual prince come to disprove lies of a teenager? A lot of people lie about knowing celebrities but nobody pays attention to them. Media would ask "what's so special about that girl?" and I'm sure Lila would use it to her own benefit," she said with a small sigh. They were Marinette's thoughts, her trying to not call Jagged to solve the Lila problem.

"You are right," Juleka said after thinking for a minute. "But how do we expose her?"

"It's simple. We won't," Morana simply stated. Juleka and Rose shared a confused look before looking at her expecting an explanation. "New teachers will. I want Damocles and Bustier fired. I believe new teachers won't be so lenient in their responsibilities and would look into Lila's medical history. They would also contact Lila's mother every time skips school or doesn't hand in her assignments."

"That's smart," Juleka admitted. She then frowned. "We are putting a lot of faith on those possible new teachers. How can we know they won't be the same as Damocles and Bustier?"

Morana slowly blinked. She hadn't considered that before. Now, she had no choice but to ensure new teachers would be chosen correctly. More work for her. Great

"Don't worry about it. It will be my problem anyway," she said with a small shrug. The girls didn't look convinced but they didn't argue further and Morana appreciated it. They didn't stay longer, there was homework and band practice for them so they couldn't lose more time. Another thing Morana appreciated because she wasn't sure how to make them leave. She needed some time alone. There was a lot of planning to do.