#this one is closer to being ready to publish the first few chapters

[piscespixiewastaken]

Hi, I wanted to ask about the disc duo reconciliation from the WIP game :)

This is another fun one, and I’m actually pretty close to posting the first chapter.

So the actual au is baby!dream+awesamdad, but the concept started as a c!discduo fic before Sam showed up. And the two still reconcile, the details are just a little different.

So Tommy and Tubbo find a young boy about four years after Dream escapes or disappears from prison. The whole server had been on alert, but the general consensus is Dream is dead or at least on the run far away and probably won’t be bothering anyone any time soon. But this raises a question. With no one new joining the server, and everyone’s kids accounted for, who is this little one?

Tommy and Tubbo take him back home, take care of him, only to discover he’s horribly scarred and hurt. They head to the Arctic to get Phil’s advice and that’s when the truth comes out. This boy is Dream.

Cue lots of angst, feelings of betrayal, and fluff because Tommy’s pissed, Dream is terrified, Phil and Techno are protective, and Tubbo would just like his son to stop clinging to the guy who tried to kill him a few years back. Because even after Dream’s identity is revealed, Michael refuses to leave Dream’s side. He’s a very protective six-year-old, and this little boy is practically a little brother even if he’s technically older.

At some point, things go south. Quackity arrives after having searched the rest of the SMP, and Tommy urges Dream to run to safety. He’s grown close to the little guy, and he doesn’t want to see Quackity get his hands on him.

So Dream runs and runs till he’s far out in the wilderness. And stumbled upon a creeper hybrid living in exile: Sam.

Now cue lots more angst and fluff because this Sam isn’t Warden Sam, this is the OG Sam who made all those clones. He has distant feelings regarding all that happened to his clones, but Warden Sam’s are the most clear since he was the one to waken OG Sam. And Sam doesn’t recognize Dream, and Dream doesn’t know this isn’t his former warden. There’s going to be so many hugs and reassuring words when the reveal happens.

There’s also future angst in the form of Quackity eventually finding Dream, confrontation between Dream’s two surrogate families, and lots of other stuff.

Another fun fact, is this Dream is a shifter hybrid. So he starts getting piglin features as well as little wing nubs from being around Technoblade, Michael, Phil, and Tommy. (Tubbo and Ranboo keep insisting they seem ram and ender hybrid traits, but they’re much less pronounced than Dream’s baby tusks and wings). So when he eventually latches to Sam, he becomes a baby creeper hybrid. Sam is overjoyed to finally have another of his species around, even if it’s only through a shifter.

I’ve said this about pretty much all of my aus and fanfics, but I’m genuinely so excited to share all of these with you guys. :D

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 16

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food and eating

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: open

W♡RD C♡UNT: 1,485

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 21

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy first night of Hanukkah to all who celebrate! Happy Wednesday to everyone who doesn't! Here's a new chapter! (Or happy Thursday if it's the 26th for you)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You double-check the draws of your desk, making sure you have everything think you’ll need for the second keg of the tour. Your top drawer is filled with snacks that you know Frankie and Wonseok will devour within a week-- if they even let it last that long. But the files you’ve kept on rookie groups and potential idols that you think may debut soon—debut in general— sit in a small box that you’re planning on dropping off at the group of desks that being to the junior writers in your department.

It’s something you should have done when you first got your promotion. You should have tried again before you left the first time, but a part of you thought you could still use the information you gathered over the years. But if the “My Summer a Stay” project with Stray Kids goes well, you’ll spend more time covering already established groups rather than rookies and survival show contestants.

“Getting ready to leave us again, huh?” Yoona, one of the reporters in your department asks as she walks up to your desk.

Saying she’s in your department is a stretch. She works in the entertainment department of the paper like you, Wonseok, and Frankie but she works in the gossip division. More specifically, she’s one of the few people the company hired to work specifically on scandals within the music industry. Calling her your archnemesis is a stretch but while you work to build up careers, she breaks them down. And for that, you dislike her strongly. You don’t even hide it. At least, not well.

“Yeah, the tour is starting up again.” Your voice is flat and even, trying to show as much disinterest in the conversation as you possibly can so she’ll leave you alone sooner.

“I envy you, Y/n.” She sits on the edge of your desk, trapping one of the folders you need to take with you but don’t want to get bent in your bag. “You’re just with these idols all of the time. I can only imagine what you must hear and see…”

That’s why she’s here…

You tilt your head to the side; your eyes widen almost with a childlike wonder. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” She chuckles softly as she leans in closer. “I took a sneak peek at your little secret project. You’re with them all the time. I’m sure you’ve overheard some conversations or even caught a glimpse of what’s on their phones.”

She’s fishing. If it’s for something specific, you’re not sure. You try not to follow scandals too closely. Most of them don’t concern you and are ridiculous. You do know it’s been generally quiet. Not many dating rumors or other false claims have made their rounds on the internet for a while. Anything else would be real news and would require Yoona and the other “reporters” in her division to do actual work before publishing. And you refuse to make their simple jobs easier for them.

“Ah, I…I’m having trouble understanding. Sorry, my Korean is not good…” You do your best to butcher the pronunciation and speak broken Korean, which is harder now after years of speaking it primarily.

Yoona’s eyes narrow as she sits up straighter. “That’s not cute, Y/n.”

“Pardon?” You tilt your head to the other side.

Yoona’s mouth opens and closes before she lets out a little annoyed huff of air. “You’ve been here for half a decade and you write full articles in Korean. Don’t try to act like you don’t know what I’m asking.”

“This is a bit embarrassing but…I use Google Translate to write my articles. I write in English and translate. Please don’t say anything.”

Yoona crosses her arms across her chest, her eyes scan every part of your face. You close your bag and sit back in your chair, trying to not give her the satisfaction that she so desperately craves. Suddenly, the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile that would make the Cheshire cat envious. Her eyes light up, almost like a light bulb went off in her head.

“You do know something, don’t you?”

Oh lovely, she’s delusional.

You look around the office, most of the office is empty with nearly everyone gone for lunch. Still, there are a few people who are working through lunch. Luckily for you, you moved into the main offices right before you left for the first leg of the tour so not many people know you that well. Unluckily for your desk mate, he happens to be working through lunch.

"Um...excuse me? I'm having trouble understanding what she's saying. Can you help?" You bother your desk mate. He looks up from his laptop, completely confused and partially startled by the sudden interaction. You're not sure what he was so focused on but part of you feels bad.

"Uh--"

"Forget it," Yoona waves him off, no longer wanting to participate in your little charade. "Y/n, I know you're hiding something. There's no way you don't know anything. Stop faking,"

"But eonni--"

Buzz, buzz

Your eyes glance over to your phone sitting face up right next to your keyboard. You don't miss the fact that Yoona's eyes also land on your phone. Part of you freezes when you see the word "Eonni" light up on your screen. You quickly snatch your phone and send the call to voicemail as the list of things your sister needs now floods your brain.

"You have your sister in your phone as "eonni?" How curious..." Yoona suggests. You can see the gears turning right through her pupils, working out her next story.

"Whatever convoluted story you're coming up with, scrap it right now." You say firmly.

Buzz, buzz

You let out a swear under your breath as you send your sister to voicemail again, really not wanting to deal with whatever family drama is currently going on.

What time is it over there anyway? Early morning? Late night? Afternoon?

"I'm not doing anything. Is there a story there?" She feigns innocence by tilting her head and speaking in a low, condescending tone.

"I'm serious," You stand up and gather all of your things, yanking the file from under Yoona.

Buzz, buzz

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Yoona smirks. She hops off your desk and starts walking towards the door. "Don't worry, I'll leave you to talk to your "eonni.""

"It's not like..." Your voice dies in your throat as she continues to walk out.

You let out a long, exhausted sigh like a balloon deflating. Your attention is brought back to your phone as it continues to ring in your hand. Pressure builds behind your eyes as you think about what could be so urgent right now. You say a silent prayer to-- whoever will answer at this point--and answer the phone.

"What could you possibly need right now?" Mindful of all of your coworkers still in the office, you try your best not to scream. Still, your tone is harsher than you intended.

"Wow, you send the girl to the other side of the world and she thinks she's so important. She doesn't even answer the phone anymore and yet when she does, she has the audacity to be bitchy. I'm so sorry Your Highness," Your sister scoffs on the other end.

You bite the inside of your cheek, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to stop yourself from saying something that will start an argument. It's the last thing you need today. On top of making sure you have everything you need from work, you've been pulling all-nighters the past couple of weeks you've been home trying to fix what your team failed to understand from your emails and Zoom meetings. You're already dreading how much more work you're going to have to deal with when you get back from this leg of the tour now that there's going to be a large time difference between you and them.

"I'm sorry, I'm at work right now." Balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder, you do your best to secure your things in your arms as you head over to the elevator.

You press the down button with your foot, miraculously without dropping anything or toppling over, and wait for the elevator to reach your floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I know all about your fancy job all the way in Korea. Jesus, you don't have to brag."

Ding!

You walk into the elevator and press the button for the floor below you where all of the interns and lower-level reporters in your department work. Most of them are probably all out right now so you'll just leave the box of your notes on your old advisor's desk and send her a text.

"I'm about to leave for a meeting. What did you need?" You lie.

"It's about mom,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[cxrdycxps]

Chapter One • Interruption

⚠️ Smut, f!reader, no y/n used ⚠️

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist • Interruption Masterlist

“Happy birthday!” You cheered, passing off the card to the woman of the hour. Sarah smiled, holding her arms out for a hug. You wrapped her up tightly and squeezed before letting go. “You look amazing.”

And she did, the color of her dress made her skin look luminous, her eyes shining brightly. She waved away your compliments, instead turning to the man behind her.

“This is Jason.” She introduced and you smiled, extending your hand to the partner she had told you so much about. “I feel like you two should already know each other.”

“I feel like I do know you.” You laughed when he spoke and released his hand.

“No doubt you heard some pretty choice words about me.” You told him and Sarah smiled ruefully. It was true that as Sarah’s boss the pair of you had a rocky start.

You were the head of the biggest publishing office in Austin and Sarah was your assistant. You had fought tooth and nail to get to where you were now. Fighting over men’s voices that would try to drown you out.

You wanted Sarah to be ready for that. To someday be an editor herself. She didn’t know it but you’d been training her to take over the position for editor of Biographies. Her favorite type of book to read.

There had been a rocky beginning when you had been tough on her, making sure she had what it took. You liked how she wasn’t afraid to fight you on important things.

You liked her.

It wasn’t until the last few months that both of you had developed the close friendship you shared now. After two years of being your assistant, a family emergency had pulled you away from your job. One that had turned your life upside down.

Sarah had stood to the task, keeping things running smoothly without anyone knowing you hadn’t even been in Texas, never mind the office.

So here you both were now, inseparable at work and slowly becoming so outside of work too. Starting with her thirtieth birthday party.

You had been hesitant to attend, parties with colleagues had never been your thing but here you were.

You had donned the last of the dresses you had left over from your twenties, feeling like a total farce now that you were closer to forty than thirty.

But you deserved to get dressed up and let loose everyone once in a while. So here you were, not feeling as much out of place as you had expected. There were plenty of people your age.

Including what had to be the most attractive man you had ever seen.

He was standing by the bar, one elbow propped up on it, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He had a flannel shirt on, sleeves rolled up and forearms on display. The kind of display that left you weak in the knees.

The man was big all over. Big hands, big shoulders, broad chest and biceps that bulged against the fabric of his shirt.

Your mouth actually watered when you first set eyes on him and you were a little embarrassed as you excused yourself from Sarah and Jason, pushing your way through the crowd to the bar.

You stayed as far as you could get from the man but it didn’t take him long to notice you as you flagged down the man working the bar and ordered yourself a Long Island Iced Tea.

“That bad of a week?” You didn’t have to look to know it was him. He had abandoned his companion to muscle in beside you at the bar, resting his glass as he turned to face you.

“Haven’t had a drink in a while. Go hard or go home, right?” You asked, passing off your card to the bar man. “Put Sarah’s drinks on my tab tonight.”

“That’s mighty generous of you.” You told yourself you would’ve done it anyway. You had planned to buy Sarah’a drinks all along. Having her father be the most handsome man in the room and knowing it would impress him was only an added bonus.

“She deserves it. Everything she’s done for me this year? I don’t think a couple of drinks could even begin to cover it.” You told him honestly, stirring your drink idly with your straw.

“Well the bad news is, she drinks like her daddy so you better be ready for the shock when you see your total.” He teased and you tilted your head with a coy smile.

“I see she also gets her charm from her daddy.” You raised your eyebrows and he laughed, his hand out between you.

“I’m Joel, Sarah’s old man, which you’ve already guessed.” He introduced himself and you shook his hand and gave him your own name.

“I’m Sarah’s boss.” You told him and he narrowed his eyes at you before pursing his lips. You knew that look. He was probably the one who had heard all about how you were an epic bitch who ran Sarah around like a dog. “You may not agree but it was for her own good. Needed to be sure she could hold her own.”

Joel looked abashed that you could guess what he had been thinking but you let it go when the song changed and you asked him about the music.

It started a conversation about music which lead to movies. The pair of you had ended up in a booth, your chin resting on your palm as you listened to him talk.

He disappeared only once when it was time to bring out the cake. He stood proudly beside his daughter as Jason held the cake for her. You watched him, drink in hand and he winked at you.

You couldn’t help clenching your thighs. Excusing yourself to the bathroom to fix your lipstick and take a second to cool down.

Sarah stepped up behind you in the mirror and you smiled sheepishly at her. She didn’t say anything for a second, just rolled her eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep with my dad, ain’t you?” Sarah asked and you stared back at her in the mirror, chewing on your lip.

“Is it like really awful if I do?” You asked her and she laughed, throwing her head back. “Cause I won’t, if it’ll bother you. I’ll leave right now and we can pretend it never happened.”

“Ah I don’t care if you put the screws in him. I just don’t want to hear about it like I heard about the obnoxious mouth breather or the way too into feet guy.” You laughed at Sarah who scrunched her nose up at the thoughts of the last two men you had slept with. “I don’t wanna know a damn thing.”

“That PTO you put in for last week? It’s approved.” You told her and she laughed at you. “You can have an extra week if your dad is as good of a lay as he looks.”

“Ew, get out of here.” She pushed you towards the doorway and you laughed at her. She shoved at you as you both walked down the hallway and walked straight into Joel who was chatting with Tommy, Joel’s brother you had learned.

“Now remember dad. Wrap it before you tap it, not all accidental pregnancies are as cool as I am.” Sarah nudged her father, stealing his drink as the pair of you attempted to gather your composure.

“You’re fired. Effective immediately.” Tommy and Sarah laughed loudly as Joel handed you the drink you had left him with while you were in the bathroom. “Have your desk cleared out by morning.”

You tried not to overtly react to Joel’s hand resting on the small of your back while you all laughed as a group but it didn’t take long before Tommy and Sarah made themselves scarce.

“Didn’t think I’d need my daughters approval this late in life.” Joel told you quietly with a chuckle and you tilted your head.

“Approval for what, Mr Miller?” You asked, stepping closer to him. “I hope you don’t think I’m that easy of a lay. Don’t you know sex before marriage is a sin?”

“Tomorrows Sunday. I’ll bring you to confession.” He muttered before ducking his head down to kiss you, the hand on the small of your back pushing you closer to him.

///

“Where’s your manners? Thought you were a gentleman.” You teased Joel in the back of the Uber. His face was pressed into your neck and one of his hands was attempting to maneuver between your thighs.

“I am. I’ll prove it to you. I’ll make you cum so many times you don’t remember your goddamn name.” Joel whispered against your skin and you closed your eyes against the spike of desire. “I know that pretty pussy of yours is aching for me. Been squeezing your thighs together all damn night.”

“Joel.” You laughed, shocked at his turn of attitude. Gone was the polite man who had helped you into your jacket when leaving and promised Sarah he’d see you home safe. “We’re not far.”

“Not close enough.” He grunted, kissing down the column of your neck as his hand slid under your dress. “I know you’re aching for it.”

Despite yourself, your legs fell open for him and you prayed the Uber driver couldn’t see his fingers sliding against your underwear, a low hum of approval from Joel. “Damn baby, I ain’t even touched you properly yet and you’re this wet?”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name and he ran his fingers up and down your slit through the thin layer of fabric between them.

“I’m gonna wreck this pretty pussy. I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first. Then my tongue. And then I’ll split you open on my cock.” Joel promised and you latched your fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth to yours.

You promised yourself you’d tip the Uber driver so well for the moan you let out when Joel slipped one finger inside you.

You let your head fall back as he used the palm of his hand to rub against your swollen clit. You arched against him and tightened your hand in his hair. “Gonna fucking-“

Your phone sounded from your purse and you paused. Joel urged you to ignore it but you couldn’t, scrambling to answer the call.

“Hello?” You prayed it wasn’t who you thought it would be but you knew. Even without checking the caller ID.

“It’s Ellie. She wants to come home. I’ve tried everything but she had a nightmare and now she-“

“I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving the party. I’ll get the Uber to swing around.” You knew other parents weren’t equipped for Ellie but she had been so ready for a sleep over.

“I’m so sorry.” Dina’s mother apologized but you knew the fault lay entirely on your shoulders. You shouldn’t have let her go in the first place.

“No, please. I’ll be there soon. Tell her I’m coming.” You were pulling away from Joel, fixing your dress. He had drawn away from you, sensing the seriousness.

“I’ll let her know.” You hung up the phone and looked to Joel before leaning forward and asking the Uber driver to extend the journey after dropping Joel off.

“I’m sorry.” You told Joel, turning to look at him. “I didn’t think- I shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Sounds important. Don’t worry about me.” He assured you as the Uber rolled to a stop outside his home. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just my kid, she needs me.” If Joel was shocked to find out you had a child he didn’t say anything. He just nodded in understanding, reaching into his pocket and tossing a couple of notes on the passenger seat. “That should cover it. I hope she’s okay. That kid of yours.”

The door shut behind Joel and you sighed, fixing yourself up as best you could, using a compact in your purse to fix your smudged make up.

“I hope she’s okay too.”

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Styling Mr. Styles.

harry styles were in desperate need of a hair stylist for one direction’s uk leg of tour culminating in 2015.

although he doesn’t do much with his hair before shows, perhaps a bit of gel and hairspray here and there, he needs someone who can cut his hair when he feels it’s necessary and someone who he can just talk to when he needs a bit of space.

and he knows for a fact that hair stylists always talk the most, so he needed to hire one, a hair cut could take place at any given moment and although his hair was long he liked to keep it in check.

so when his good friend lou teasedale recommends (Y/N). harry’s quick in taking the recommendation and hires you.

so the autumn of 2015 was bound to turn out a good one, especially when your surrounded by all your close friends and some even closer.

authors note - this is my first time writing a series as i’ve only ever written just one shots before so this is brand new to me. this mini series will include real life events that have taken place during the 2015 leg of the on the road again tour. harry is 21 in this fic and (Y/N) is 19, so there is a slight age gap.

warnings - explicit language, angst, mentions of domestic abuse, slight innocent reader, mentions of alcohol, social anxiety and panic attacks, badly written smut.

prologue. [published - 06.07.2023]

in which, harry is in desperate need of a hair stylist, so when his good friend recommends you, with a lot of persuasion you decide to take the job. having no idea what the future will have in store for you and for him.

chapter one.

in which, it’s your first day on the job and your best friend decides to drive you up to london so that you have a familiar face when you arrive. that’s where you properly meet everyone and even have some one on one time with a certain curly headed lad.

chapter two.

in which, it’s the first show of the uk leg of tour, and getting to know everyone you’ll be seeing for a prolonged period of time leaves someone in a slightly angry mood, which is an especially bad thing when you’ll be styling his hair in a few minutes.

chapter three.

in which, after an article appears of you being seen at the show surfaces, you panic about certain people seeing it. but due to the circumstances you have to move on quickly and move on to your next tour location. the home of the man your starting to develop a crush for. manchester.

chapter four.

in which, you’ve got a fear of flying that no body knows about, and after some gentle persuasion someone occupise the seat next to you. gesturing a cutie named lux and the wonderful city of glasgow.

chapter five.

in which, you introduce the curly lad to your favourite tv show, and arriving in your next destination he decides to take you on a tour of there set. the day ends with fireworks and a heart full of gratitude. all thanks to him.

chapter six.

in which, you’ve all arrived in the country that makes up 1/4 of the band. the lovely ireland. where nightmares take place, and the truth about your past finally comes to surface. hair gets braided and a mechanical bull lingers in the background.

chapter seven.

in which, getting ready to head to the next tour location begins all cute and fluffy, as if nothing can burst the bubble you and him have created, but an oblivious maid interrupts that bubble, leaving the two of you feeling vulnerable and create a whole other issue that leads to the two of you telling the truth.

chapter eight.

in which, events take a turn for the better as you and him cuddle in his bunk on the tour bus, where you start to feel good and the afternoon ends with saccharine lullabies. leaving both of you to let the feelings you have for each other to linger in the back of your minds.

chapter nine.

in which, another article reached the eyes of one direction fans and family, a flashback occurs in the midst of the chaos your mind is enduring upon yourself and an unrealised song gets sung for the first time, putting you once again in the spotlight.

chapter ten.

in which, waking you up with breakfast in bed, the curly headed lad had a very important question to ask you that will need a very important answer.

epilogue.

in which, it’s the finale chapter of your and his story so there’s one thing to say… welcome to the final show…i hope your wearing your best clothes.

[ladytauria]

7 12 and 18 for the ask game 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖mwah

i answered 7 & 12 here <3

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

i do keep them! pretty much any fic or chapter i post has at least 1k worth of outtakes dfghjk

picking from my most recently posted... i have a fun section from my jaycass fic, the language of touch, that ended up being cut because i decided to jump in closer to the action xD

He's a band pulled tight, ready to snap…

…or to break.

Cass's hands itch to help him.

Her eyes follow the path they would travel; starting at the back of his head, his neck, then sweeping over his shoulders, his arms, the curve of his chest, the swell of his belly. Then, down to his feet, up behind his knees, ending at last on his groin. His release would be beautiful, she thinks. All of that tension coming undone at once, leaving him dazed and limp, utterly relaxed…

All because of her.

A thrill runs down her spine. Something warm uncurls in her belly, the faintest trickle of want.

It's been a few weeks since she last felt it; the desire to touch and be touched. She's gone longer before. She'll go longer again. But now that the feeling has made itself known, she wants to indulge in it.

It would be invasive to follow Jason home, wouldn't it? Jason isn't like Tim or Steph. Neither of them mind when Cass shows up at odd hours or shadows their steps. Like Dick, Cass thinks Jason would find it unsettling. off-putting. He might be liable to shoot.

Perhaps with a bit of a delay, she could knock on his window, or show up at his door… hm.

Her attention is caught briefly by Batman. He pushes off his cowl and becomes Bruce again, signaling the end of the debriefing. The others all push away from the table gladly. Unlike Bruce, they discarded their vigilante personas as soon as they entered the Cave; leaving them outside, on the streets of Gotham. But there had still been some remnant of work left on them; a tension in the way they hold themselves.

It leaves them now, making space for fatigue. Cass sees it weigh them down, and knows it will not be long before they all head their separate ways.

Cass expects Jason to head straight for his bike.

He doesn't.

Instead, he stays. Tim and Steph leave, neither lingering long before speeding off to their respective homes. Normally Cass would ride with Steph, but tonight she waves her off. Jason is watching Bruce, who settles at the Batcomputer. Cass studies both of them for a long moment. Bruce is not the most at ease that she has ever seen him, but he is as relaxed as he gets in the Cave. His shoulders have a tell-tale slump to them; one that says he should be in bed. But Cass does not have to see his face to know that his jaw is set stubbornly, determined to pick away at whatever thoughts are clouding his mind.

Jason is—wary. Poised to run if he senses even the slightest hint of displeasure. Not that he would admit that that is what he's doing. Cass does not know if Bruce knows Jason is still here. Perhaps he is willfully ignoring him, to give him the freedom to choose whether he stays or goes. Or, perhaps, he too had expected Jason to leave, and allowed that expectation to clog his senses.

Regardless. When Bruce does not voice any protests, Jason heads over to the equipment lockers.

Some months ago, he had installed a gun safe among them—glaring at Bruce defiantly the whole time, as if daring him to say something. Bruce had not. Cass thinks this is the first time it has seen any use.

It would seem he's staying.

Cass is… curious. She cannot count on her fingers how many times he has stayed at the manor—even voluntarily—but it still isn't something he makes a habit of.

Damian exits the showers. He glances at Jason briefly, but says nothing at his presence. Instead, he heads for the elevator. "Goodnight, Father," he says, before pausing and adding—almost hesitantly— "Goodnight, Todd, Cain."

Bruce acknowledges him with a hum. There's warmth to it, but Damian's shoulders fall anyway, and Cass frowns.

"Sweet dreams, brat," Jason says—but despite the words, the slight mocking in his tone, Cass sees the way his face gentles for a moment. She also sees the way Damian perks up slightly, even as he scowls.

"Tt." He flicks his fingers in Jason's direction, and then the elevator doors close.

[groenendaelfic]

I have quite literally not stopped thinking about the basket baby snippet since you posted it! I'm happy to wait but can I be cheeky and ask for any more tidbits, how ever tiny, about the basket baby fic? Like baby name reveal, another snippet, chapter 2 outline...anything at all please I will give you my first born child! (I am amypond on ao3 btw - happy for you to publish this ask)

ah basket baby! Thank you for not forgetting, and of course you can always ask. I love basket baby. One day it will even be born. Why oh why can't I write fic full time, I would be so much more productive and efficient 😅

For a few very foolish seconds Simon considers naming the baby Wilhelm.

He loves Wilhelm and he misses him, can't imagine what he must have been going through this past year, alone safe for the very much not amused Royal Court, no doubt at some estate hidden away in the countryside, not even allowed the familiarity of his own rooms.

He also hates Wilhelm. For not finding a way to tell him, to have them be together, because surely, surely it can't be that impossible, can it?

Except of course it can. Simon's mom was accosted by Royal Court lawyers at work, and that was them being nice. It is exactly that impossible.

Tears spring to his eyes. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. It'd hurt to much. It'll hurt anyway, holding the baby in his arms, knowing it's the only part of Wilhelm he'll ever get to hold again.

He already loves the child more than his own life, and the more he looks at the tiny, scrunched up face getting ready to cry, the more he can see Wilhelm reflected in it.

He shifts his grip, pulls the baby closer and hums a melody he hopes is soothing. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. The baby is not Wilhelm, and it deserves better, deserves its own name. One which isn't a constant reminder of its unreachable parent.

Not that he'd be allowed. No matter how popular the name Wilhelm in all its forms has remained in Sweden ever since Wilhelm was born. The Royal Court would not allow it, and Simon can't risk angering them before the baby isn't officially his and he has the paperwork to prove it.

So not Wilhelm then, he thinks, as the baby bursts into tears. Simon would give anything to be able to cry along, to crumble and break, but he's a father now and his child comes first, even if he has no clue what to do.

He just put on a fresh diaper with the patient help of his mom and it can't be time for another bottle.

"He can sense that you're upset," his mom explains when he asks, and oh doesn't that suck.

He doesn't put the baby back in its basket however, nor does he hand it to his mom. Instead he cuddles it closer and starts humming again.

His precious, precious child. His and Wilhelm's.

A tear rolls down his face. He's hurt and angry and scared, hating the Royal Court and the world and everything for being so absolutely, thoroughly unfair.

Everything except his baby, who is innocent and beautiful and perfect.

It didn't ask to be born, and certainly not into a family like this, to a legacy like this. The monarchy is not its only legacy however, and suddenly Simon knows what he's going to call it.

Not a Swedish name. Nothing to tie it to the long line of ancestors who want nothing to do with it. Not Carl or Magnus or Gustav. Not Erik either, or at least not as a first name.

Something Spanish. Something to ensure his child will never consider itself an unwanted royal bastard too embarrassing to be acknowledged.

Something powerful. A reminder that he is also part Venezuelan, and that that is something to be proud of.

Yes. He'll name the baby after his maternal grandmother. There is no person living or dead he can think of who is stronger or more determined in the face of hardship than his abuela.

It will make her happy, it will make him happy, and if royals can do it, then he can do it, too. Only better and with less toxicity, less historical baggage to weigh it down.

He'll make sure no one will ever compare his precious baby boy to anyone. Will ensure he'll get to pave his own path however he wants. He loves his child, his and Wilhelm's, and whatever he can do to keep it safe he will.

"Alejandro," he tells his mother, and because he can't ignore Wilhelm's one single request adds, "Alejandro Erik Eriksson."

For a moment he considers using the Spanish version for Erik as well, if only out of spite, but that wouldn't be fair to Wilhelm. That, and it would remind him too much of his mom's favorite singer.

His mother bites her lip and nods.

It's the right choice. The only choice, and Simon can only hope little Alejandro will think so, too.

[wreckedhoney]

Forrest stops, going still and wearily alert, and it lasts a beat long enough that Henry begins to suspect that, yes, Forrest sees him. But then Forrest's shoulders ease back down, and a soft exhale falls out like a small and timid cheer. 

"Oh," he says to Henry. "You startled me."

x 🔪 o

BUZZ/KILL (Henry Barrow Comes Home)

Fanmix below & Fanfic on AO3

Since he can remember, everything between them has been shared - fears and rage, dreams and desires - until they became one. Henry doesn’t need to be his own person. He owes himself to his mom. It shouldn’t have unsettled him when both their attentions turned to the same person, then - but last Whistling Night snapped something in their partnership, and something about Forrest Nash makes Henry finally not want to share.

Happy birthday, KFAM! It's been a year since the worldwide release of the game ♥ Here's another boost to the Henry/Forrest post-game longfic published last Halloween and super updated since, this time with YT links to the music featured in the author's notes, and little blurbs from most chapters attached! (The last two blurbs are just one continuing conversation lol) Hope you enjoy both or either. Happy anniversary! Did you know it's also the birthday of my Uncle Roni?

x 📻 o

Track 01: Baby - Cannons It was the best show Forrest has ever done, his voice always smooth, but that night, it was something more, a sound that solidified the shape of his shoulders and the steadfastness of his hands, becoming part of his body so that Henry didn’t need to see his face to know what was there.

Track 02: So Bad - Gesaffelstein …behind Forrest Nash, Henry’s mother sits quietly, watching the back of Forrest’s head, deliberating. Henry doesn’t give her away, doesn’t warn the man beside him, but silently, he’s wishing for the dream not to do it, not after that last film - because if Marie kills Forrest in a dream, then when Henry wakes up, surely, Forrest will… Marie looks to Henry, a warning in her gaze. Henry feels himself ready to stand and ask, just this once. Just give me this one, for once. Just for now.

Track 03: Original Sin - Sofi Tukker Later, though, he’ll consider the stillness that settles over Forrest, in this moment, comes across in memory as, for the first time with Henry, easy, and his voice disarmingly fond.

Track 04: Spellwork - Austra “How do you know?” Henry asks at a crosswalk, stopping. “What do you mean?” “What does it look like,” Henry elaborates, “when I’m closed?” Forrest takes the time to stare at him, considering. “Nothing like you are here now,” he says. “Sometimes, it’s like you just have a lot on your mind, but other times, it’s like,” he mulls, and says with some reluctance, “you put on another face, like a mask.”

Track 05: Hello Lover - Empires As far as he can snoop, there’s no photo of Forrest as a child with his family, his parents, or of how he looked when he was Henry’s age. Would he have been lankier, awkward? Henry imagines looking at Forrest from the past and seeing through him, another young face laughing with a group of friends passing by. Was he still mean back then? Would he have caught Henry staring and squinted, glared? Smile?

Track 06: Get Goofy - Kornél Kovács Everything else should be affecting him more than the latter, but he eats and settles for the night and at the forefront of his thoughts is the lit doorway of Forrest’s home glowing in a dark, empty street.

Track 07: Pillow Talk (ft. What So Not) - Imanu Maybe Henry has an itch and Forrest being close, closer, is going to scratch it, and then Henry will be normal - his version of normal - back to a good son and a better liar, a good killer instead of a struggling town stalker. Maybe one date isn’t going to cut it, but a few, and some time - and Henry’s draw to the man could settle into something that doesn’t do what it did to him this morning anymore. And then, he can go back to being…being…

Track 08: Talk Fast - 5 Seconds of Summer Sometimes, he looks as alone or solitary as Henry often feels, but there’s the draw to slot the two of them together that was never present with the others, or other groups. Henry almost wants to ask, “Does that make me weird,” but refrains. He feels like he already knows the answer, anyway.

Track 09: Rabbit Hole - Cherry Glazerr “What made you come over?” Forrest asks. Before Henry answers, he recalls another day and another inquiry, a different mood and the same result, “What’d you come up for,” over a small dancefloor, under such different lights, in a world far, far away. “You,” Henry answers.

Track 10: i'm yours - Isabel LaRosa Don’t let him get far, he wishes, and another memory presses onto him, soft and insistent. Don’t let him say no, the first night he tried to kiss him. This is a bad idea, he thought then. “Is this a good idea,” Forrest asked him not long ago. No, Forrest. No, no, no take-backs, no going back. You and me forever, baby.

Track 11: Desperado - Rihanna He doesn’t look around the room, because he’s been here long and often enough that it’s committed to memory. The storage space next door is a labyrinth he can navigate with ease. The stairs up, the hallways, the staffrooms and studio, the rooftop that sometimes smelled too much of old cigarettes. The thought comes unwittingly. He might not have to leave.

Track 12: Desire - Cannons No, Henry thinks. No, no. This long into the game and this deep into it - No. “This is Forrest Nash,” the radio plays, “host of 189.16, The Scream.” But what’s the alternative, if he wants to keep him? “We’re almost through the night, folks.” What’s the alternative, if Henry wants to be the vessel for his mother that he’s always strived to be? “And it looks like we have room for one more caller. Let’s see who it is!”

Track 13: Jupiter 4 - Sharon Van Etten “It’s still home. I’ll go back eventually. But to work? I loved it, even with everything that happened. I still miss the city, but,” his lips pursed, eyes shifting away. Embarrassed, Henry wondered. “I like myself more now. Here.”  “You changed.”  “Yeah. I go back, same work and same issues, then wouldn’t I go back to who I was before, too?” Then, to him, directly, “Do you get that sense? That you changed?”

Track 14: Wolf (Boys Noize Remix) - Yeah Yeah Yeahs & Boys Noize “I don’t know,” Henry answered.  “Well,” Forrest mumbled, smile slanting, looking briefly unsure. “For what it’s worth, I do. Like you,” he clarified, soft and confiding, and, it occurred to Henry, shy. “The way you are here, now.”

[tavyliasin]

BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 6

Technically it's past midnight my time but you'll forgive me for being late won't you? I'd say I'll make it worth your while, but I know what I just wrote~ Smut below the cut and CW for really bad sex, the worst most awkward sex, but trust me there's a reason.

Day 6 - Tav/Durge Spends the Night with the Drow Twins

Tav was…curious. She had found plenty of partners across Faerun so far, and indulged in many a delightful encounter. From her most beloved elves who held her heart in their hands as surely as her body, to a devil and his incubus, even a mindflayer - visiting a drow in a brothel seemed almost scandalously plain. And that’s exactly what was interesting about it now.

The madam had offered some generous discounts, and although she had almost brought Halsin and Astarion with her, the former had made time for a quiet chat. His concern for that latter not unfounded. Astarion might be slowly healing, becoming more confident and reclaiming pleasure for himself, but he was not ready for an orgy with the drow. The courage of his words were a poor match for the reality of his heart.

And so Tav strolled into the lounge alone. “A new face! Looking for another chapter of dirty lore for your autobiography?” Sorn’s greeting was dripping with seduction, but it only brought a laugh bubbling up from Tav. “Has something entertained you, dear?” 

“Have you read it?” She managed, through another burst of giggles. 

“Read what?” His eyebrow raised further, somewhere between annoyed and perplexed. 

“My autobiography - well it’s more like a diary, really, but Volo wants me to publish it later.” She pulled it from her bag. “Here, take a look - I’d love to hear what an expert makes of my little adventures.” 

“Well if it’s an expert you want, you have certainly come to the right place.” The drow smiled, the expression soon dropping to one of bewildered amazement as he thumbed through the pages. Each was filled with neat handwriting, detailing the rather explicit encounters Tav had found across the Sword Coast so far. “Good gods, that title was no joke - this really is a “Guide to Fucking Across Faerun” alright. A vampire, a cambion - no, wait, two cambions, a mindflayer… You…you had sex with an incubus and lived?!”

Tav wasn’t sure if he was horrified, impressed, jealous, or some blend of all three, but she couldn’t help but smirk as she took the book back from his hands. “I can introduce you to them, if you like, but they might be a little much even for you.” 

“Well, dear,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain a little of his composure and reputation, “I am usually sought out for being the more adventurous choice here. My sister is unfortunately preoccupied this afternoon, but I assure you my Menzoberranzan Love Trick is not to be missed. Come hither, I have a room upstairs. Perhaps when you are satisfied, I might be permitted to read a few more of those saucy details~” 

“We’ll see.” She smiled, handing over the coin without another word and following his subtly swaying hips up the stairs to the private room.

—

Once inside, she beckoned the drow close, whispering directly into his pointed ear with a voice dripping with sarcastic lust. “Let’s have the most boring sex imaginable.” 

He stepped back, a slight blush rising in blue-grey cheeks, red eyes sparkling with renewed interest. “Oh, you are sinful…it isn’t often I’m surprised by a request.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to bore you with something mundane like BDSM or an orgy.”

“Perish the thought, this will be interesting…” He moved closer, at first beginning to touch her with experienced hands that knew all the right places until he caught her eye and remembered - it would take effort to be bad at something he was clearly an expert in. 

Tav moved her head the wrong way three times as they attempted to kiss, finally meeting with a clash of teeth and the most horrifyingly slobbery tangling of tongues that she could imagine. Sorn’s hands grasped clumsily at the fastenings of her outfit, tugging in the wrong directions even as they continued to awkwardly mash their faces together.

“Oh my dear, I adore how your breasts bounce so boobily when I toy with them~” He crooned, mashing his palms against her chest with all the grace and finesse of an ogre attempting fine embroidery. “Yes, I can tell how much you love it, kitten, you are so very bad.” 

Tav gave as good as she got, faking the most ridiculous moans she could muster, clumsily stumbling back towards the bed as his tongue caressed her neck like an over-excited dog finding its favourite toy. “Yes, just like that, lay me down so I can stare up at you blankly and refuse to move a muscle.” She did at least shuffle off her clothes for him before laying down.

He followed suit, hovering over her before making a mess of her chest with his mouth this time, his hands pressing her legs apart with clumsy haste until he could plunge a single finger inside. All idea of technique was nowhere to be seen, one digit thrusting with only speed as the goal. “Oh you like that, don’t you, kitten? You like how fast I can go, are you going to call out my name for me?” 

“Yes!” She cried, in an exaggerated show of complete fake pleasure. “More, harder, go on!” 

He continued a while, until Tav’s chest was cold and damp from saliva. It wasn’t particularly pleasurable for her, but seeing the drow fully indulge and enjoying himself was a satisfaction of its own. If she were honest, she didn’t have a great lust that needed sating tonight. It was simply nice to have the promise of a quiet bed to rest in when they were done, an interesting story to tell, and hopefully some actually fascinating conversations once the curtains closed on this little act. 

Still, by the time he positioned himself above her, entering with at least a little warmed oil to make up for the lack of arousal, there was a base feeling of pleasure from being filled. His now quiet voice above her, still in the performance of an amateur refusing to voice any hint of enjoyment from the act, was gratifying in its own way. 

She could feel, through the plain thrusts that lacked proper rhythm, bodies awkwardly colliding like the first time she had fumbled with an inexperienced lover, that he was genuinely in the heat of the moment. Given his profession, and his rather bold claims, this really did seem to be the most devious and sinful sex he could’ve imagined. 

It didn’t even last long, as Sorn suddenly and quietly announced his end, allowing her just a bare moment to put on the same overt and dramatic fake panting and wailing. As soon as he was finished, he lay down beside her, pale hair a mess on the pillow behind him.

“That was…incredible.” He smiled, a genuine expression now rather than the charm he put on in the bar for the clients. “I would almost suggest that I roll over and sleep loudly for the rest of the night, but truth be told that would be doing you a disservice. Come, let me at least thank you properly over in the bath, then we can talk more about your adventures and this incubus friend of yours.” Tav grinned, standing to follow him across the room. “Haarlep? Oh I think you’re going to get along perfectly. You see, there’s this deal they can offer you…”

[corentine-noctua]

Update

Hello dearest followers, it is I, Coren, coming back to deliver an update most important regarding my works "Fellow Traveler", "After" and the Destiny 2 one-shot series, as well as some other stuff I'll be working on.

Some of you already know I haven't been updating these works because of college. I'm currently on my last week, meaning that I'll present my undergraduate thesis this Friday and, if everything goes well, I'll no longer be a university student and will become simply an unemployed person.

That's why I'll be publishing my first ever novel. This project is still a secret, but I'll probably talk about it when it's closer to being published. I'm also applying to my University's Masters Degree Program, which means I might go back to being busy as heck, but that's a problem for future me.

In between publishing my book, trying to get a masters degree and keeping myself alive while being a freelancer, I'll work on Fellow Traveler, After and the Destiny stuff.

"Fellow Traveler" is currently my main priority, 'cause I have most of it planned, but the next chapter needs editing, and the last few chapters have yet to be written. "After" is my second priority, but it needs more work, which I might explain in a separate post (if I remember to write it).

The Destiny one-shot series is low priority because its format allows me to write and post fairly quickly, and also because I technically have a lot of chapters ready, but they need finer editing and organization (to guarantee continuity) and I'll do that when I have more free time available.

Basically, you can expect one (or maybe two, who knows?) new chapter in Fellow Traveler within the next month. Other updates will come soon, and feel free to ask me anything you want to know about any of my works in the meantime.

[violet-shadows]

Missing Piece (Part Eleven) (NSFW)

Series Index | Masterlist

Summary: Cassian and Nesta are happily mated and in love, so why do they feel like something is missing? When a newcomer arrives in the City of Starlight, they learn that their bond is not yet complete. 

Pairing: Cassian x Nesta x Reader (She/Her) (Poly Relationship)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut at the end of the chapter, discussion of death

A/N: I apologize for the delay in getting this published and appreciate your patience. To make up for it, I’m planning on posting the next part within 48 hours. 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

I sat in the bathtub until the water ran cold, scrubbing my skin so raw that it stung, desperate to be sure all traces of the male I killed were rinsed away. This was far from my first time being covered in blood, but it certainly felt different knowing I was the one who drew it. When I was too cold and tired to sit in the water any longer, I got out, stifling a groan as my sore muscles protested. I tied my hair back into a loose braid, careful not to tug on the stitches at my temple, and donned the nightgown Nesta had left for me. As she predicted, it was too long for my frame, but fit well enough to be decent. When I was ready, I took a deep breath before stepping out of the bathing room, acutely aware that this was not how I had imagined seeing Cassian and Nesta’s bedroom for the first time.

 The two of them stood when I entered, both rushing over like I was a newborn foal not sure on its feet. Despite all that had happened, the care they displayed made my heart squeeze in my chest. “We have food,” Nesta explained as Cassian took my elbow, gently guiding me to the edge of their bed. The mattress was larger than any I had ever seen, likely built to accommodate one or more sets of wings, and I couldn’t help but think it would do quite nicely fitting the three of us. Once I was settled in bed, a tray with steamed vegetables and bread was placed on my lap. Nesta crawled onto the bed, sitting at my left side while Cassian took a seat on the edge, watching me intently, his trademark humor gone from his eyes.

“I’m okay,” I felt the need to say, taking a tentative bite of the food. In truth, I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I figured a few bites would make the protective pair feel better. 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Cassian said, eyebrows pinched together. “Nothing about what happened tonight is okay. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, for all of it.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I replied, forcing a small smile that was meant to be reassuring. “If anything it was mine… I didn’t check the peephole and I walked home alo—” 

“Don’t say that,” said Cassian, “this was definitely not your fault.” 

“It was that damned male’s fault, and Amarantha’s, not yours though,” Nesta added, “never yours.” 

We sat in silence for several breaths as I thought of what to say next. I debated pushing down my feelings, locking the memory away, and asking them not to mention it, but the residual terror and heavy guilt that was weighing on me demanded to be felt. “I’ve never killed anyone before,” I whispered, looking down into my lap.

“You defended yourself,” Nesta replied, placing a gentle hand on my knee. “He killed himself when he attacked you. You did well.” 

“I didn’t even try to save him though,” I argued, my heart rate beginning to rise once more as I flashed back to that moment, hours before when I sat frozen while he bled out before my eyes. “I didn’t—” a sob cut me off midsentence, the emotions I’d been suppressing returning in full force. 

The tray disappeared from my lap and I was soon being pulled into a set of strong arms. Cassian hugged me, whispering soothing words as my cries turned into wails. Nesta had scooted closer to me on the bed, and I could feel her rubbing circles into my back as I wept. For how long we sat there, I wasn’t sure, but when my sobs finally ceased, turning into whines and sniffles, I was exhausted. “Do you want us to go?” Nesta asked when I had caught my breath. I shook my head furiously, grasping at Cassian’s shirt. I felt like I was at the edge of an abyss and they were the only thing keeping me from falling in headfirst.

Cassian nodded, shifting me with surprising ease until I was laying down in between the two of them. He stood, moving to extinguish the faelights while Nests slipped under the covers at my side. I turned towards her and she cupped my face with her hand, running her thumb across my cheekbone in gentle strokes. “I’m so sorry this happened,” she whispered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” 

“You’re here now,” I replied, leaning into her touch, “that’s what matters.” 

“I was so, so scared,” she said, her grey eyes filling with tears, “when I smelled the blood. I was terrified that I might lose you before I even had you.” I swallowed thickly, reaching out to intertwine my hand with hers. Behind me, Cassian slid into bed wordlessly. 

“Nothing like that is ever going to happen again,” Cassian said. “I won’t ever let you get hurt again, I swear it.” 

“We swear it,” Nesta added, sounding resolute, and I felt the bond between us sing with the intensity of their promise. In a moment of boldness driven by pure emotion, I leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. Then I turned around to face Cassian and did the same, running my hand along his stubbled jawline as I did. Kissing Cassian felt far different than kissing Nesta, but it filled me with the same glowing warmth, soothing my aching heart as I did. Cassian was smiling when I pulled away, turning back towards Nesta so as not to put pressure on my sore ribs. He snuggled into bed behind me, resting an arm around my waist. “Is this okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered, settling into my mates’ embrace. 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Madja left strict instructions that I was not to return to work until she cleared me, so I spent the days following the incident in the House of Wind with Cassian and Nesta. I spent much of that time in bed, resting my sore muscles and conserving energy so that my body would heal. Cassian or Nesta remained at my side at all times, and each night, we went to sleep together, with the two of them tucked against me on either side. The feeling of their warmth cocooning me was familiar, and it wasn’t until the second night that I realized I had experienced this before, in the dreams I had before I met them. Unlike in the dreams, though, I didn’t wake up in an empty bed, feeling like a piece of my soul was hollowed out. Instead, I was awoken each morning by one or both of my mates stirring, their gentle hands running along my back and through my hair,  calling me from sleep. It was blissful to be so near to them, the contentment I felt when I was wrapped up between them was so deep it was nearly hypnotizing. 

As the days passed and my body healed, I began to think about returning to my apartment. The thought made me shudder, but I didn’t want to outstay my welcome. We hadn’t discussed officially moving in together, only dancing around the subject from time to time, and I wanted to be sure they were certain about it before I made the House of Wind my home. Despite this, the thought of returning to that apartment made my stomach turn.

I pictured trying to sleep there alone with the blood-soaked floorboards and boarded-up window reminding me of what I had done. Imagining it made me feel cold all over, goose flesh appearing on my arms. I was thinking about it when Cassian walked out of the bathing room on the third day, and he seemed to pick up on my mood right away. “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. It was quite the sight: a big, strong warrior, one of the best that ever lived, his face soft with kindness and concern. My heart fluttered in my chest.

“Just—”, I almost told him but bit my tongue. I didn’t want to pressure them into inviting me to stay. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Cassian prompted his large hand encircling one of mine. 

“I was just thinking about what happened,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Thinking about all the nice things you did to fix up my apartment, and now…” My throat constricted and I couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“We’ll bring those things here,” Cassian said, squeezing my hand. “Or get you all new things, if you want.” 

“Here?” I asked, avoiding his gaze.

“Or… if you’d prefer, we could get you a new apartment,” he didn’t seem enthused by the idea, something like disappointment seeping into his tone. “You don’t have to go back there. Ever again, if you don’t want to.” 

“Do you— do you and Nesta want me to get a new apartment?” I asked, emboldened by Cassian’s sincerity. 

“We…,” he hesitated, “we want…”

“We want you to move in here,” Nesta’s voice startled me, and I looked up to see her standing in the doorway. As usual, her silver eyes bored into mine, as though she was peering into my soul. I felt the bond between the three of us go taught. “But, that’s your decision to make.” 

“You want me here?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

“Are we sure?” Nesta scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course, we want you here. If it were up to us we’d never leave your side again.” 

“But we don’t want to pressure you,” Cassian added hastily. 

“I want to go back to my apartment,” I said without thinking. Cassian and Nesta froze, exchanging a look reminiscent of heartbreak, and I rushed to clarify. “To see it one more time, before I move in here.” 

Cassian’s face stretched into a wide grin and Nesta smiled and her expression was tender. They blew out a breath, perfectly in sync with one another, and the tension in the air dissolved. Before I could say more, Nesta was on me, her arms thrown around my neck as she all but tackled me onto the bed. I winced, my ribs smarting slightly, but leaned into her touch all the same, my body melting into hers. She pulled back, cradling my face between two soft hands, and pressed her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. I nibbled at her lower lips, my hands settling on either side of her hips, but just as I was about to go further, she pulled back. “Shit, your ribs. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” I said, blushing and breathless. To our side, Cassian chuckled lowly, his scent cedar smoke and fresh rain, had shifted slightly, a note of heady musk now faint in the air. Lust. Any nerves I had were flushed out by desire, and I squeezed my thighs together, moving once more toward Nesta. She stopped my advances with one hand on my chest, her touch scorching my skin through my thin nightgown. Her cheeks were tinged pink and her pupils were blown wide, drifting down to the swell of my breasts and then back up to my face.

“A few more days,” she whispered. “We need you in full health for what we have planned.” 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

‼️ Explicit Sexual Content - Minors Do Not Interact ‼️

Sleeping next to my mates for the next two nights was divine torment. Now that I was feeling better and all was right between the three of us, the lid we had on our physical attraction had been blown wide open. At night, my skin seemed to tingle beneath their touch and it was all I could do not to beg them to move forward with their plans. The feeling of Nesta’s soft curves pressed against my front, her silken legs tangling with mine as we slept was enough to make me ache with need. Likewise, Cassian’s hard body pressed against my spine, and the occasional brush of something stiff against my ass had moisture pooling between my thighs. 

Sinful thoughts kept me awake, tormenting me with temptation that wouldn’t yield. Nesta’s slumbering form was particularly close to mine, and I pictured throwing my leg over her waist and grinding against her. I thought of how her nipples would harden, pebbling beneath her silk nightgown, and what it might feel like to slip the fabric over her head while Cassian ground his hips against me from behind. I imagined what it might feel like for him to hike up my nightgown and press into my cunt while Nesta—

My fantasy was interrupted by the star of the show himself, and I held my breath as I felt him stir behind me. He moved closer, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could whisper in my ear, “Did you have a good dream, my love?” he breathed out, the warm air on my neck sending shivers up my spine. The hand resting on my stomach moved slightly lower and pulled me backward, pressing my body flush against his. I felt his length twitch against my ass and let out a quiet moan. “Need some help?” he asked and I didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. 

I was so distracted by Cassian’s roaming hand that I didn’t notice Nesta awaken until her hand was settling on the curve of my waist. “You smell divine,” she whispered, placing an open mouth kiss on the hollow of my throat, “and needy.” 

“Should we give her some relief, Nes?” Cassian asked, nibbling at my ear lobe. I whimpered and Nesta let out a cruel, breathy chuckle. 

“I don’t know,” Nesta whispered, her eyes not leaving my face, “has she been a good girl?” She lifted her knee slightly and grazed my sex, applying the slightest bit of pressure and then pulling back before I could buck my hips for more friction. 

“I think,” Cassian said, his hand slipping lower until it rested mere centimeters from where I wanted it, “she’s been a very good girl.” His hand pressed between my thighs, rubbing through fabric, and I gasped. 

As Cassian’s hand drifted lower, sliding under the hem of my nightgown at an excruciatingly slow pace, Nesta’s hands slide higher, cupping my breasts. At the same time, Cassian’s hand reached my cunt, and Nesta’s brushed over my nipple. I arched my back, moaning as Cassian’s fingers slid across my slit, dancing over my clit in teasing strokes. Nesta kissed me then, deep and more passionately than ever before. Her tongue probed against my lips in time with the movement of Cassian’s fingers, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they had me undone. 

Indeed, moments later Cassian dipped a single, thick finger inside my core, his palm grinding against my clit and sending me over the edge. I released a breathless yelp that should have been embarrassing, but my climax was so intense I didn’t care. My legs shook and my toes pointed as I squeezed my thighs together around Cassian’s hand. Nesta kissed me deeper and I felt Cassian’s mouth nip at the base of my neck. In the end, I was panting as I relax between the two of them, feeling utterly boneless and blissed out. Nesta giggled affectionately, running her fingers through my hair, and Cassian’s rough hand slid down my thigh, massaging the still-tense muscles. “There,” Nesta murmured, “now you can sleep.” 

“What about you two?” I asked, my eyes already drooping. I was always the type to get sleepy after sex, but the contentment I felt then was like a sleeping draught.

“Don’t worry about us, love,” Cassian replied, the rumble of his deep voice reverberating through me. 

“I want more,” I whined, my eyes already falling shut. I wanted to fight it, to demand we continue what we started and go back to chasing heaven with the two of them, but I’d never been more comfortable in my life. 

Cassian chuckled and Nesta pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Soon, my love,” she whispered. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” I drifted off shortly after that, into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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[pretty-boys-book-club]

Bylines to my heart - Chapter 1

Summary: You are a young journalist navigating the turbulent job of reporting for a local newspaper in D.C. What happens when you constantly bump into a cute boy genius? Can FBI agents befriend journalists? Can they fall in love with one?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x journalist!Reader, Spencer Reid x y/n

Trigger Warning: Mentions of death of love interest (Maeve) and some strong words, but besides that there isn’t really any other for this chapter. Mostly fluff.

A/N: It's my first published fanfic, so let me know how I can improve! I am using some of the themes from season 11, but with adaptations for the story. Overall, some of the themes used for Joy's story. The team in this version includes Emily and Derek, plus all the members that appear in season 11. Joy Rossi is mentioned slightly, but you can decide if she is a journalist as well or not. 

Special mention to my beta reader, @sweetandsunny​ who is an absolute angel and has helped tremendously with this!

Meet Cute

“There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”

― Sarah Dessen 

You usually look forward to the long train ride to your apartment every afternoon. Even during rush hour, when the trains are bustling with people, you can’t help but feel comfort by knowing you’ll soon be at a place you can call home. A place where you, finally, feel at peace. Being a journalist, you expected to have a job that demanded you to be away from home, but taking up this new job at D.C., so far from friends and family, was proving to be another kind of difficult.

You have mixed feelings about your current job, on one hand, being happy to be employed as a reporter in times as hard as these, when press all over the country is striving to make ends meet, on the other, you’d never felt as alone as these past few months. Sure, you had grown closer with some of your coworkers, but not enough to want to spend time together outside of work.

The ride in the Washington metro reminds you of your days as a student at Columbia, and all the trips in the NYC subway. Once you had passed through a subway tunnel so filthy and crowded that the poem inscribed on its ceiling seemed like a cruel joke: 

“Overslept, 

so tired.

If late, 

get fired. 

Why bother? 

Why the pain? 

Just go home 

Do it again.” 

The Commuter’s Lament. 

Back then, it seemed like the poem made the already grim ritual of getting to and from college positively Dante-esque. You suppose you always were the person who was more interested in words and ideas than in making friends. Even at journalism school, you often found yourself too busy with books and essays, a contrast to all the other students who were into cultivating their online presence and interviewing for jobs at TV networks. Even though you heard repeatedly that "the press is dead", you have always been too stubborn to give up on your dreams. So you persevered, working as a waitress and at retail to pay for your way through school, while most of the other students had daddy and mommy finance their stay at the Ivy League school.

Now you found yourself long gone from your days as a student, working for a paper as a reporter, making enough to pay for a lonely single-bedroom apartment that's waiting for you after a long day at the office. You can't help but feel proud of how long you came. Your thoughts are interrupted by your train pulling into the station. You quickly board it, miraculously finding an empty seat. You get ready for your daily routine of people watching, a habit you adopted in college and have never quite let go of.

You settle into your seat, like you do every single day, occupying your mind trying to imagine what each of the passengers were doing, where they were coming from or going to. Taking note of the old lady who is clearly on her way to a Bingo game night with all her retired friends. The mom and child who are very tired after an afternoon spent at some museum. The girl who is probably meeting her friends for drinks and a good time. The big guy who most decidedly is going from the gym, for probably the fifth time this week, if you can judge from how big his arms look and how sweaty he seems. The cute guy in front of you, with a purple sweater, that you can’t tell if it makes him look endearing or reminds you of someone’s grandpa. His messy hair falling covering his eyes but leaving enough of his face available to your curious eyes to roam free over it. You notice how he is focused, very quickly flipping through a book, hands sliding over each page before turning to the next, as if looking for something on the text and… Oh, no, he noticed you staring.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Time to look at your phone like a normal person and pretend that you have a very important text message that needs your full attention. You unlock your phone, thinking how ridiculous it is to pretend to text, but lo and behold, much to your surprise, your boss has indeed texted you a few minutes ago.

7:15 P.M.

John Williams (work): Hey, Y/N. Sorry for reaching out so late. You'll be covering a beekeepers conference on Monday. Be ready at 9 and don’t be late. Have a nice weekend! 

Oh, well, you suppose there are worse things to write about. Except how the hell are you supposed to know enough about beekeeping to write an entire article about it in less than 48 hours? Just your luck. 

That's far from what you had in mind when you got this job. You suppose a local newspaper would focus on events and conferences at the city, despite that, part of you was hoping your job would look a lot more like covering political conferences and corruption scandals than writing a review on the newest puppet show in town, but this is definitely not the first time your editor has asked you to cover local events. Sigh. Well, better think of a way to know all there is to know about bees by Monday, you suppose. Maybe you can use this as an excuse to go to that nice bookstore a couple of blocks from your apartment? 

Before you have enough time to think, the sound system announces that your stop is coming up next and you have to stand up from your seat. You barely make it to the door before you realize that the cute guy from before is standing beside you. Oh, and he’s tall. Not only that, but his tall self is also very much looking at you. 

He’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks warm up. You suppose it’s fair enough, as you were not very subtle at staring at him moments before. And anyway, how many people take the D.C. metro daily? There’s no reason to think you’ll ever see him again. Even though he’s getting off at the same station as you are. Does he live nearby? Is there a chance you might bump into each other again? You ask yourself as you’ve done a thousand times before, falling for a different someone on every single one of your commutes. Just another stupid subway crush. 

Before you can fantasize about whether he’s a nice guy - he must be, as people who read that passionately can’t possibly be jerks, you decide - but soon you find yourself stumbling for a bit as the train reaches your destination. It’s not a movement strong enough to leave you completely out of balance, but it’s enough that you bump into the cute guy, brushing up against him, instinctively reaching out for something to hold - his arm - feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, that by the way, has no business being that soft as well as he has no business smelling that good, is that a hint of cinnamon? And, wow, his eyes are very pretty- 

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry.” You mumble, looking undoubtedly like a fool. Before he even has a chance to reply, you’re flying through the subway door and walking up the stairs that lead outside the subway station, without catching a single breath. In a couple of minutes, who feel suddenly like hours in your embarrassment, you get to your apartment building, air rushing through your lungs. You are not used to power walking that fast after a long day of work. Oh god, why do you always make things weird with strangers? That’s why you’re single, you suppose. Guys must hate girls who stare at them in public transportation. 

As you’re greeted by the sight of your empty apartment, you put down your bag and take off your shoes, wishing any of your friends had moved to D.C. so you at least had someone to laugh about the embarrassing encounter at the subway. Well, seems like this will be another night of ordering a whole pizza with extra cheese for one and watching Netflix. There are worse ways to spend a Friday night, and since tomorrow you’ll have a Saturday off for the first time in weeks, being a reporter and all, you plan to enjoy it.

—

Spencer always enjoys planning what he’ll do on his Saturdays off work. It’s been such a long time since the team had some time off, he'd literally dreamed of finally being able to go back to his favorite book store and losing himself in there. He decides that, after spending a peaceful morning playing chess and drinking coffee, it’s time to get out of his apartment for a bit.

He adores being able to lose himself in the shop whilst Mrs. Kazinsky, the owner, sweeps the floors and greets new faces. He was her favorite customer, after all, most people don’t buy twenty books all at once, but he supposed most bookstores didn’t carry Dostoiévski in the original Russian either.  

He’s been there enough times to know all the employees’ names. There’s Hannah, a middle aged woman working as the cashier who always made sure to add a lot of free bookmarks in his bag each time he bought something. Liam, a man around his age, who works mostly at the back of the store and avoided Spencer like the plague (after an accident when he let it slip that he was in fact an FBI agent specialized in catching serial killers, much to Liam’s shock and horror), and lastly, Bryan, the teenager who helped around the store part time and was always too busy cleaning up on the children’s section to pay Spencer any mind. 

He loves the fact that the employees left him alone and unbothered at the store, so he has perfected his routine of going through a list of books he wants to buy and leaving them scattered all across the floor of the foreign language aisle - no one seemed to pay any mind to the strange guy, and more than once people had thought he worked there. The fact that he has memorized where all the different sections of the bookstore has been proved useful more times that Spencer would like to admit to himself. 

So he wasn’t all that surprised when he could see out of the corner of his eye someone browsing through the shelves - most people would lose themselves around a shop filled with so many different books. “The foreign languages books are here so I don’t think you’ll find what you’re probably looking for.” He says, hoping the person will thank him and walk away as many had done before. 

“Oh, thanks, I almost thought it was my eyes deceiving me.” A female voice  replies and Spencer looks up, only to be met by the same face he had seen the night before. She is kneeling, looking at the books on the shelf closest to the floor, but she looks radiant. He is breathless for a moment. What are the odds of them meeting again? 692,683 to one. And she managed to defy those odds. "I had no idea this store had so many books, I’m having such a hard time finding the one I want… “ The end of her sentence hangs in the air as her eyes meet his. 

“It’s you!” Spencer exclaims, before realizing that this sounds very strange. He has no reason to be happy about meeting a complete stranger again. 

She looks embarrassed, so he is certain that he has offended her by bumping into her the night before. He wants to apologize before she starts to talk again.

“I’m so sorry about last night. Oh, I didn’t know, I mean, I’m not stalking you or anything, I actually live a few blocks away and… I know this might sound weird, but I really should have figured you worked at a bookstore, huh? With you being so engrossed in your book at the subway. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Just an observation…” she talks really fast, reminding him of himself. 

Before his mouth can form around "Wait, I'm not…?”, she’s already launched herself into another ramble. 

Spencer doesn't even know where to start. What can he tell her? 'I am an FBI agent'?  As if.  'I'm a cop'? Technically correct, but not what she wants to hear, he's sure. He wonders whether it would not be better to leave this alone and assume this other identity. The version of Spencer that actually works in a bookstore, what would he be like? He supposes it would not be so different from who he is. After all, he has always loved to read and his knowledge of literature is well-above average. In the heat of the moment, he decides it is worth it, to be that version of himself for a moment, to assume this other identity, if it means he has an excuse to talk to her. He’s taking the fact that they’ve met again after last night as a sign. So he won't take any chances of spoiling his, possibly, only chance. His attention goes back to what the girl is saying, willing himself to memorize every detail of this encounter. 

“Anyway, do you?” She shyly asks, surely noticing how his mind was miles away an instant before. He notices her beautiful voice. He's surprised by how pleasant she sounds. 

“Sorry, do I what?”

“Do you have any books on beekeeping?” She asks again. 

“Oh, I think so, they probably are on the shelf with all the natural sciences. Let me walk you there.” He drops the book sitting on his hands and leaves it at the pile by the floor. 

“Shouldn’t you pick that up first?” 

“No one will mind, don’t worry.” He walks towards the back of the store, his back to her, hiding the heat on his face as well. “So, why do you need a book about beekeeping anyway? Not that it’s any of my business, or that it's weird, it’s just that’s not really that common.”

“Don’t tell me about it, I think the only beekeeper I know is Sherlock Holmes and he’s fictional.” She jokes. Spencer feels his lips curl into a smile almost involuntarily. Oh, she is beautiful, funny and smart? He feels his heart ache in his chest as his mind immediately identifies this as a divine sign. A sign that the Universe and all those watching over him are pushing him towards her. What a coincidence that she would make such a comment. This has to be a sign that even Maeve would approve of this, wherever she is now. Maeve's opinion is something important to him even after her death, something that he thinks about several times throughout the days. It is part of the reason why he has not made the slightest effort to meet new people in recent years. But this? A single, random, innocent little comment, but Spencer takes that and runs with it. It has to mean something. 

“I need it for my job. It’s kind of a long story, but I need it for something at work. I need to know everything there is about beekeeping in the next 24 hours, or I’m screwed.” 

His mind quickly tries to list all the possible professions that might need this kind of information. If she were a beekeeper, she wouldn't need a book on the subject. A biologist would certainly be more specific about the type of bee, he decides. She is a layman, he concludes. But what lay person would urgently need a book on the subject? Someone with a deadline. But she seems too old to still be attending university, he guesses they are around the same age, perhaps with her being a couple of years younger. Ah, it's obvious. A writer. That's it. A writer with a deadline. No, better yet: a reporter. Uh-oh. That smells like trouble. 

“A very unusual job, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s kinda odd.” 

They quickly reach the desired section of the bookstore.

"The books are here, I'll let you have a look," he says, trying not to let her know he is disappointed that the conversation is coming to an end.

"Oh thank you so much, you didn't have to come all this way with me, I can manage my way inside the store, but I suppose it's part of your job" she giggles and Spencer feels like his heart was doing somersaults. He stares at her, memorizing every corner of her face, making mental notes of how her hair falls over her shoulders.

"I didn't ask your name..."

"Y/N..." she says, already turning her gaze to the books, her back facing him, certainly she is more busy hoping to find what she came looking for in the first place to talk to him. 

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." he says, quickly walking off, certain that he somehow had managed to screw up. He finds himself back at where he was, alone in the middle of the Russians and the Italian authors. But his mind is wandering to the most important word at the moment: your name.

—

You want to ask his name in return, but as soon as you turn around, you find yourself all alone in the aisle of the store. Deciding that you had definitely made the moment uncomfortable and scared the poor boy away, you quickly picked up the book you had gone to get and headed for the cashier. 

You can barely disguise your disappointment at yourself for not having the nerve to ask him more about himself, finding your way to the cashier. Even though fate gave you a second chance, you blew it once again. You can’t shake the feeling of stupidity. 

You get to the cashier and deposit the book on the counter, already pulling your wallet from your purse, preparing to pay. 

"Hi honey, is that going to be all for today?" the checkout lady asks you, a welcoming smile on her face. She gives off the vibe of being someone that brightens up everyone’s day. You find yourself reluctantly smiling as well.  

"Yes, that's all."

“It comes up to twenty nine dollars and fifty cents. Did any employees help you today?"

"Oh yes, a tall brown haired boy, he was around the foreign literature section, I didn't register his name..."

The girl makes a surprised face, “Do you mean Spencer? Spencer helped you?"

"I think so," you reply. 

"Okay, then, I hope you found what you wanted. Have a great weekend!” she hands you your bag, with a couple complimentary bookmarks.

“Thanks, you too”, you take it and leave the store. As soon as you step into the street, you mutter to yourself what’s playing in the back of your mind: “Spencer".

A/N: Please let me know what you think and how i can improve my writing! English is my third language and although I have studied and taken courses on writing, I'm a bit rusty. Also, I plan on making this a series, so let me know what you think of the MC as I tried to make her have a personality but being pretty vague as well. Thank you for reading this far! <3

Taglist: @lil-stark

[angelasscribbles]

WIP Wednesday 2.23.22

This is the longest WIP Wednesday I've ever done. Sorry/not sorry.🤦‍♀️

Sometimes I get flooded with ideas/inspiration for one particular series and you’ll see me post almost a chapter a day for weeks at a time but only for that one series. It happened with Complicated, then Heir Apparent, then Savage Love and most recently, Bad Romance.

But then, other times, like now, my mind keeps flipping back and forth between them and I flit from one series to another, writing a paragraph here and a few sentences there until I end up with multiple chapters in progress, but for several different series. When that happens, I may go days without posting a new chapter because even though I’m writing almost daily, all my WIP chapters still have loose ends.

That’s when I usually feel the need to publish a WIP post, just to let you all know that I haven’t forgotten any of these series. I just don’t have anything ready to go at the moment, but many in progress and some closer to finished than others. My last WIP Wednesday post was in December, before Christmas. I currently have chapters from seven different series in progress, so I decided it was time for another WIP Wednesday.

If your favorite series is one that’s been neglected lately, hopefully this will make up for it a little. Please feel free to drop a comment letting me know which of these you would most like to see published next.

As usual, spoilers are under the cut.

My Best Friend’s Girl Chapter 16: (This series is written first person from Drake’s POV)

I smiled as I watched her. Her smiles had been few and far between lately, so I was always happy when one appeared. Her being happy made me happy. When did I become that guy? It was a little disconcerting that I suddenly seemed to be living for those brief moments of her joy but there it was.

I found myself thinking up ways to elicit those smiles. Request her favorite dessert from the kitchen? Yes. Surprise her with a movie marathon featuring everything with Ryan Reynolds in it? Done.

Watching her eat and dance around the pool made my stupid heart swell up inside my chest until I thought it might burst right out of there. That’s it, I decided, one of these days my heart is just going to explode and that’s how I’ll die, from being overwhelmed with my love for her.

Complicated Chapter 30:

“Drake! Drake wait!” Riley hurried to catch up. His legs were longer than hers and she had to jog. She finally caught him as he made it back to the car they had just exited.

“You can’t fix this Riley. I…I just need to get out of here for a little while.” He told her as he pulled the door open.

“That’s fine, I understand.” She replied, “But I’m coming with you!”

“You’re…what?” He asked stupidly as she slid into the car.

Looking back at him, she asked, “Are you coming or what?”

Forbidden Passion Chapter 9: (although this series is about a very married Riley’s affair with Drake, this particular chapter is Riley and Liam)

“You were amazing tonight.” He told her, “But then, you always are.”

“All I did was dance with a bunch of people.”

“And charm them. I’m pretty sure Francesco’s in love with you. He agreed to all the terms of the new treaty after one dance with you.”

“I do what I can.”

“You do have a way of charming everyone you meet. You did it to me the first night we met.” His eyes met hers in the mirror, desire sparking through him at the memory.

Savage Love Chapter 10:

The man ran toward the kitchen, “Rita! Rita! Drake is here and he brought a woman with him!”

From the kitchen a woman’s voice cried out, “What? A woman? Drake? Ohhh, I have to come meet her!”

“Oh my god.” Drake muttered under his breath. “Why is everyone in my life freaking out over this?”

Bad Romance Chapter 13:

She entered the conference room with Rashad in tow.

His eyes widened in shock then narrowed with suspicion, “What the fuck is this?”

“He’s here as my lawyer.” Riley snapped back.

He directed his next question straight to Rashad, “Really, Rashad? I thought we were friends.”

“We are, Liam. But you have the weight of the crown behind you, an entire legal team.” He gestured to the eight lawyers sitting on his side of the table, “She deserves representation too; she needed the best lawyer money could buy. That’s me.”

Liam frowned, “But she has no money-“

“I’m doing it pro bono; Riley is a friend.” He responded softly, glancing at her with unabashed affection.

Liam’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. Friend. Right.

Royal Retribution Chapter 2:

The night before the coronation….

I rolled over, panting and sweaty, to gaze up at the ceiling, laughing as I thought about how damn lucky I was. “That was amazing, as always. I can’t wait until tomorrow, after the announcement, so I don’t have to keep sneaking you in and out of here.” I told the woman next to me.

Riley laughed, “No more sneaking around for me.”

“No, just me.” Drake rolled over and threw an arm across her naked body. “But I’m used to it.”

Leo and Liv:

I have not forgotten this one. It has just been on the back burner for a while now. I have previously posted snippets from the most recent chapter in other WIP Wed (or maybe in a Sunday six), so I’m not going to post another. Just know that I will eventually get back to it.

Hinge:

I still have a lot of ideas for this one, but since it’s nonchronological and has no real plot (it’s basically slice of life/fluff pieces as they pop into my head), it has also been put on the back burner. I plan to write a lot more of it once Complicated is wrapped up, as this is the basically the sequel for it.

Heir Apparent:

This is the last one I’m going to discuss. I had put this on indefinite hiatus after an avalanche of comments and messages that I interpreted as people being upset by the content.

I have a lot, and I mean a lot of thoughts about it so I’m putting a warning here. Only continue reading if you really want to go down this long and twisting road with me. You can stop here and you will have all the pertinent information about upcoming installments. What follows are just my thoughts and a whole lot of spoilers (so if you haven’t read any of it and you don’t want spoilers, don’t read it.)

When I started this one, my only thought was that if you choose anyone other than Liam in the game, the rest of the story makes very little sense. It makes no sense that your child would be appointed as heir when Liam is still young and could have children of his own, even if he never married, he could hire a surrogate, come on. It all makes even less sense if you chose Drake. The whole reason you’re seen as an unacceptable choice for queen is because you are both an American and a commoner. At least Hana and Max are Cordonian and noble, thus a child of their makes a little more sense (not really much though given the above reasons). But a baby with Drake? Another commoner/part American? Flimsier yet. (Also, if you marry Hana, why wouldn’t you use Liam’s sperm to make the baby if the child is going to be heir? Don’t get me started on that….)

Anyway, my original thought was just that….the whole thing does make sense if your baby is actually Liam’s. Now you are “the most powerful woman in Cordonia” because you are raising the heir to the throne. The actual, blood heir to the throne. But how would that happen? Oh, yeah, the Vegas fling is the perfect vehicle for that. I pulled that straight from canon (that’s my defense lol because some of ya’ll were mad at me about it.)

The whole idea of the Vegas fling upset a lot of people. How could she sleep with Liam days before the wedding if she really loves Drake? (Because feelings are complicated, yo). How could she not be more careful with birth control? (she used it, it failed, that happens). How could she hurt Drake like that? (That wasn’t the intention. Sadly, intentions often have little to do with actual outcomes/consequences).

Riley having asked, and Drake having given, permission, did nothing to lessen the strong reactions provoked by this storyline. Because a prevailing opinion is that she should never have asked in the first place. And I get that. I hear you, I do. I guess where I differ from many is my belief that it’s ok for her to be a flawed person, that she deserves grace as much as the male characters are given and that if two people truly love each other and are willing to work through it, they can overcome just about any obstacle.

What do I mean by she deserves as much grace as the male characters are given? Liam stans gloss over his abandonment of her and his engagement to another woman. I don’t care that he thought he was protecting her, it was cruel and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on. Drake stans gloss over his initial mixed signals and at times, downright hostility and rudeness in the beginning. It’s why I ignored him on my first playthrough.

Readers are understanding and forgiving of these things because they understand the underlying reasons and they believe that their chosen LI’s heart was in the right place, so those things can be forgiven. And I agree. But I believe Riley is also allowed to be less than perfect, make errors in judgement and still be worthy of love.

I had no idea when I started it that it would go down some of the dark roads it did. My original vision was really of a happy and cooperative co-parenting relationship. But once I started typing…well….. how do they get from point A to point B? How does Liam react to the news that the love of his life, who rejected him for his best friend, is carrying his child? How does Drake react to it? How does Riley?

I ended up with a hot mess created by too much alcohol consumption, clinical depression, self-harm, miscommunications, both Riley and Drake letting their insecurities get in the way of what they should have both known to be true and trusted in. And alcohol consumption again creating a really bad situation where it looked like Drake had abandoned her (he had not.)

I have readers who cannot forgive Riley and readers who cannot forgive Drake. So, I know that when I pick this up again, there are going to continue to be strong opinions and reactions and that’s ok. I don’t want people to stop reacting and commenting on it. I don’t.

I just needed a minute to process because I had my own strong reactions to everyone else’s reactions, and they surprised me. I needed to process some things myself before coming back to this. Because I do want people’s honest reactions, so I needed to get myself to a place where I can do that.

So, while I’m not saying I have anything in process for this series right now, I am saying that for those of you who are fans of it, don’t lose hope. It’s back on my radar and eventually I will get back to that world.

[infinitejedilove]

The Jinnobi Challenge - 2022

Hello everyone! It’s time for my annual ‘shouting about the Jinnobi Challenge in March’ so that everyone has plenty of time to get started on work(s). This will be the 6th annual Jinnobi Challenge (previous master lists of submissions : 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021).

So here’s the rundown of information and FAQ for those who are thinking of participating in this Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon challenge (I will repost this info periodically as it gets closer to the challenge). Honestly, the only major change this year is that I’ve moved the challenge from October to August due to October being such a busy month for writers and artists in general.

When is it?: The challenge will run from August 1 – August 31. Any Jinnobi work you submit must be complete and it must be submitted sometime during August 1 – August 31. You have from now until August to work on submissions. PLEASE DO NOT POST YOUR SUBMISSION BEFORE THE CHALLENGE STARTS. Due to time differences in various countries, I do allow people to post on September 1st.  

Who can enter: The challenge is open to writers, artists and everyone in between. Art, poetry, photo manips, videos, gifsets, fanfiction, it’s all welcome. There’s no theme except it has to be Obi-Wan Kenobi/Qui-Gon Jinn. It can be set during the prequels, the originals, the kenobi show, or an AU. It’s up to you. You can submit multiple entries too, if you’d like. For fic writers there’s no limit on the length of your fic(s).

How to enter: When August 1st, comes around you’re welcome to post your complete work on whatever social network or fanfiction site you are comfortable using. Please tag your work (if you can tag) with the tag Jinnobi Challenge 2022 or The Jinnobi Challenge 2022 whether it’s a fic, art, or a post.  Message me with a link to your work (or links, if you submit more than one work), once you’ve published it so I know to put it on the master list!

I can also be reached on A03, but I tend to check tumblr much more regularly so if you want a fast response, I recommend contacting me via that.

Rules:

1. No underage relationships. (underage = below 18 years of age)

2. If you post anything triggering, please tag it with the appropriate warnings

3. Your fic must have a rating on it (the challenge is open to all ratings)

4. If you’re posting a long WIP, the first chapter must be posted on or after August 1, and the last chapter has to be posted before August 31, so I don’t recommend it unless you know you can get it done in that time.

FAQ:

Need Beta?: If you need a beta, let me know. In the past, I have had a few people who were interested in betaing, I can’t be sure if it will be the same this year but I can help get the word out if someone is looking. At this present time, I’m not able to beta for others, but please message me if you have any questions about the challenge as I want to keep improving this challenge for the following year.

What if I don’t have anything ready, but I do have a quiobi work I happened to post in August?: As long as the quiobi fic (or art, etc) is complete and was posted between the 1st – 31st of August 2022, you can tag it Jinnobi Challenge 2022 and enter it in the challenge.

What if it’s not slash?: This challenge celebrates the Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan ship. Pre-slash is fine, just please no ‘Qui-Gon as a parent figure to Obi-Wan’ fics as that is not what this challenge is about.

What if it’s a fic in a series?: if it’s a standalone complete story in a series than yes, it qualifies.

What it I already entered it in a different quiobi fic challenge?: The fic must be a new fic posted in August 2022 (no reposting old works unless it’s an extreme rewrite to basically be nothing like the original) and it must be complete. It’s ok with me if it is tagged in another challenge as long as it meets the guidelines for this challenge but you’ll want to check if it’s ok with the other challenge you posted it in.

What if it’s Obi/Qui/others? Or there’s Obi/other, Qui/other, but still Qui/Obi?: The main pairing should still be Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon, even if it’s poly, or if there are other partners or past/present relationships.

Does it have to follow a prompt?: No. As long as it’s Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan and complete it can be about anything. If you want a prompt to work with here are a few you can choose to use for inspiration:

True love confession

Cuddling during a rainy/stormy day.

Lightsaber sparring or Jedi training

One person finding out a secret about the other

Falling in love whilst having to live together in less than ideal situations (i.e. Hostages, on the run, unfriendly planet, sheltering in place, homelessness, living with crazy/horrible relatives, stuck aboard a ship, etc.)

Can be as angsty, fluffy, or as au as you want as long as it follows the rules of the challenge.

Is there a prize this year?: Yes! I want to continue having a prize each year. Each person who enters in the challenge will be automatically entered once into a drawing and I will randomly draw a name once the challenge is over. This year’s prize will be a postcard set of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon! (I’ll have a more detailed post about the prize in a few weeks)

By the first or second week of September, I’ll put up a master post with links to all the amazing stuff everyone has created!!!

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE THIRTEEN || TOMORROW

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi  kugisaki nobara (mention of gojo satoru + todo aoi) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of death/passing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 16 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.0k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : to you, someday 

↳ next episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 0 

↳ barista’s notes : GUYS WE ARE AT THE END OF THE TRAINING/VS MAHITO ARC FINALLY!!!! AND NEXT EPISODE IS THE KYOTO EXCHANGE ARC!!!!!  ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ so before we move on to that, there is a little wholesome episode since i wanted to give you guys a little break of Y/N’s pain because you all deserve it and i also might be planning more.....OTHER THAN THAT, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and i can’t wait for you all to see the next one ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“You know...It’s better to show yourselves than rather hide from me Fushiguro, Kugisaki,” you firmly mentioned before slowly turning your head to the side, quickly noticing the tense nature of the two classmates hiding behind a tree and some bushes before they hesitantly made their way out of their hiding place causing them to reveal themselves and to discover a nonchalant look displayed on your face.

‘Like what the hell, if you’re going to hide maybe hide your cursed energy while you’re at it’

“Did you both follow me here? You guys are such drags and stalkers, you know that is really creepy right?” you questioned both of them with an assumed tone before placing the bouquet of blue hydrangeas and white roses against the tomb, covering the last name on the engraved stone in case Kugisaki was going to come closer to you.

“Ah sorry,” Kugisaki apologies before placing her hands together in a ‘please forgive me’ position while Fushiguro just looked off to the side as if he could just avoid your glance to not feel embarrassed about getting caught.

Letting out an airy laugh, you turned back to the stone in front of you leading to your small smile to instantly turn back into a straight line as you glared at the incense’s smoke that was dancing in the air while your hand hesitantly went to the side of your neck.

‘It’s just a dream...It’s just a dream…’

“Does your neck hurt again? I suggest you stop sleeping under the tree if it does,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to jolt in surprised as you didn’t realise that he was now suddenly next to you rather than a few steps away to which could be said the same for Kugisaki, who was standing on the other side of you while looking at the tombstone that all three of you were now standing in front of.

“Hey! You didn’t answer my first question, did you both follow me here?” you asked once again with a teasing tone, causing both of your classmates to look to the side away from you since they instantly knew there was no way out of this little situation...it’s no surprise since you are Gojo’s adoptive daughter.

“It was Kugisaki’s idea to follow you since you disappear from time to time,” the shikigami sorcerer outed, as he placed a hand on the back of his neck to ease his bashfulness while Kugisaki turned her head towards him, ready to yell and counter his statement.

“Fushiguro is lying, it was his idea!” Kugisaki shouted in annoyance, causing your eyes to shift back and forward between them as you were somewhat finding slight amusement on what was going on at this current moment in time.

“Ah~ is that so?” you questioned, while slowly raising your hands to smack the back of their heads without them noticing causing both of your classmates to groan in pain once they felt the violent impact, before holding the back of their heads to ease the pain that was somehow intensifying - to be honest, they deserved it for trying to stalk you.

“Who are you visiting?” Fushiguro curiously asked with a hesitant tone since he didn’t want to accidentally cross the line on your comfort zone leading you to turn to him for a second before looking at the stone with a hint of heartache forming in your eyes as well as your heart.

“My mother,” you softly answered, leading your classmates to turn to you with widened eyes before looking at the stone showcasing where your mother was resting as a feeling of sympathy began to consume their whole body.

“I really don’t need your pity guys, it’s been 6 years already, so it’s not necessary,” you mentioned before they could give their condolences to you. You didn’t need it or rather, you didn’t want to hear any of it. When your mother passed away, you were used to the fact that you were the only one grieving since it was always just you and her in your own little world, there was no one giving you their condolences then and you didn’t want them now. It was already too late for that.

“So your real mother actually passed away, is that why Gojo-sensei adopted you?” Kugisaki asked, leading you and Fushiguro to slightly tense as you both were reminded of the fact that the ‘adoption’ story was just a (somewhat) clever cover-up to conceal your true identity as well as to not raise any suspicion on your sudden enrolment to Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.

“Yeah, he found me a year after and took me in,” you lied through your teeth, hoping that you were convincing enough to continue the lie leading your friend to nod her head, as she continued to gaze at your mother’s resting place.

“What was she like?” Fushiguro suddenly asked as he was trying to divert the conversation into a different topic leading you to open your mouth to answer before closing it again to tilted your head to the side slightly as you began to wonder all the things you could say to Fushiguro and Kugisaki to inform them about the person that brought you into the world.

“She was someone that I could only forgive if she did something wrong,” you quietly answered before mentally wondering if that was the right thing to say. 

“She was someone that was quite selfless, even if that meant sacrificing her whole happiness to make someone else happy, that was the type of person she was,” you extended, trying to ignore the first comment you made since you were still wary of what you had just stated.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki hummed absentmindedly as they listened to your answer as they continued to peer at the stone that was in front of them like it was a painting of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre Museum in Paris, France.

“You know, it isn’t a painting to admire, right? There’s nothing special about a grave,” you questioned causing your classmates to break out from their daze to look at you before becoming flushed again since they didn’t realise that they were gawking. “It’s fine, I’m just teasing,” you commented before letting out another airy laugh as you processed to turn your heels and began to walk away from your mother’s resting place to the exit of the cemetery leading Fushiguro and Kugisaki to look at your direction in confusion before making their way towards you.

“Since you guys followed me all the way here, what do you want to do?” you asked, once they both caught up to you leading Kugisaki to answer immediately about the fact that you both needed to go to the bubble tea shop that you both went to the other day since she was craving it again leading to the erratic-haired sorcerer to groan slightly since he wasn’t in the mood to get anything sweet which caused you to explain that the shop also had black coffee if he wasn’t feeling the sugary drink.

“Are you the type to drink black coffee to impress a girl even though you don’t like it? That isn’t healthy Fushiguro, you shouldn’t do that to impress Gojo,” Kugisaki commented with a hint of worry since she didn’t expect the shikigami user to be the type to do what she has assumed. However, this seemed to annoy Fushiguro more as you discovered the irked mark on his forehead before answering that he always drank black coffee - to be honest, that statement made you remember the time you and Gojo had coffee together and you were disgusted about the number of sugar cubes he added into the caffeinated drink.

“I’m surprised you're not getting any orange juice,” Fushiguro mentioned, leading Kugisaki to widen her eyes in surprise since she hasn’t noticed you drinking your favourite juice for the whole day at all.

“I don’t know if you’re extremely bad stalkers or you lost me during your following session, but I have one here,” you stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as you dug into the pocket of your Jujutsu Tech uniform skirt to pull out a carton of orange juice leading your fellow sorcerers to look at the drink in shock since they didn’t remember you buying anything at all when they were following you.

“HOW?!” Kugisaki yelled out in complete surprise as she grabbed the boxed drink from your grasp while staring at it like it was a curse to be exorcised leading to the feeling of amusement to rise again since the situation was becoming funnier by the second rather than sorrowful like it was supposed to be today.

“I bought it at the vending machine just a few minutes away from this cemetery, maybe you two were arguing or something,” you commented with a small smile as you did recall hearing two people shouting at each other from a distance when you were collecting your drink from the dispenser - it was something like ‘this is really a stupid idea’ followed by ‘but we need to figure out where Gojo goes when she disappears, I want to knowwww’.

“You guys are such drag, so you better pay for my drink for me to forgive you both for stalking me,” you voiced out with a smirk planted on your face causing Fushiguro to look at you with widen eyes since he wasn’t expecting any consequences when it came to Kugisaki’s little investigation.

“Hold up, but don’t you have more money than us because you take on more missions? How much do you have Gojo?!” Kugisaki questioned as she moaned at the fact that she was going to pay you rather than spending that money on the Balenciaga jacket that she was hoping to get.

“That’s why I paid for your drink last time, so it’s your turn don’t you think?” you asked before continuing with, “think of it as a ‘thank you’ gift to me for the fact that I trained you both for the past two months,” leading both of the sorcerers besides you to quickly realise that paying for your drink might not be as bad as they expected - two months of training in exchange for paying your bubble tea, they didn’t mind that exchange at all.

“Ah alright, Kugisaki let’s go half and half,” Fushiguro stated causing the female sorcerer to nod as she gave you back your orange juice before linking your arm with hers due to the fact, she was more excited about spending the day with you for an extra day of the week rather than going back to Jujutsu Tech to do nothing.

“I just realised, the Kyoto Exchange Event is tomorrow isn’t it?” you asked before looking up to the sky as you began to recall what date it was today. However, it seemed like you were more concentrated on your feeling of relief as you noticed a few clouds moving across the sky rather than the one you could remember… you were reassured that it wasn’t just a solid blue that was above you right now.

“Yeah, and we are going to beat their asses!” Kugisaki cheered determinedly, leading you to giggle at her enthusiasm since she seemed motivated to win the whole event altogether.

“Do you think you’ll be picked for the individual battle?” Fushiguro questioned, causing you to shift your head towards him as you began to wonder if there was a possibility of you being chosen. From what you knew, Todo Aoi seemed to be the strongest sorcerer on the Kyoto side and had the highest chance of being picked for the second day of the Kyoto Exchange Event.

Although, it seemed like you didn’t have an answer to provide for the shikigami sorcerer leading you to raise your hand to quickly flick his forehead, catching him by surprise since it was one of your lighter ones. “I have no idea, you drag~” you answered, before placing your hand in your pocket.

“But one thing I do know is that we’re going to win the team's battle,” you mentioned with a courageous smile. You were confident since both Fushiguro and Kugisaki have improved so much during the past two months - much more than you had anticipated due to the short amount of time you three had to prepare for it.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki nodded boldly at your statement as it seemed like your confidence and determination had affected them as well.

Tomorrow, you all were going to win.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons - Chapter Three

** Updated Version **

Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Just a few days before the article is due to come out, you run into the one man you can't get out of your mind. Warnings: swearing Note: this chapter has been almost entirely re-written, I decided I didn't like the way things happened so I've changed it. I hope you enjoy!

Sitting in Quinn’s office when she’s looking over your latest piece usually comes with a mixture of feelings, pride at a job well done, fear that you’ve failed to meet her standards and anticipation at the thought of the subject of your piece being one step closer to reading what you had to say about them.

But today as Quinn goes over your article on Alfie it’s only the fear that remains in the pit of your stomach as her eyes drift over the page, her red pen ready to call to attention your every mistake.

You’re usually sure of your work, confident in your ability to capture a person or event or even a place with your words but capturing Alfie in his entirety wasn’t easy and you’re afraid you couldn’t quite describe him well enough, that others would read the piece and come away with a different view of the man you had gotten to know since that first tour of the distillery.

After spending time with Alfie at the dog park, you saw a different side to the man, a side of him that made you go back and edit the piece on him not to add what he told you about his fight with Sabini, but to change the way you described him.

“There’s no mention of the fight he got into with his business rival, any reason for that?” Quinn asks without bothering to lift her eyes from the page.

“I asked him about it, but I didn’t think it was worth including. He doesn’t strike me as a violent man, he was just defending a friend, I don’t think that’s what people need to know about him.”

Quinn turns her gaze to you, her grey eyes watching you over the top of her glasses one eyebrow arched above the other.

“Well it’s your piece so it’s your call, it works without it but people who recognise the name will be expecting to read about it,” she says, finally dropping her red pen to her desk and looking at you properly. “You’ve done a good job y/n, you should be proud,” Quinn says, dismissing you as she turns in her chair.

As you wait for the article to go live you do your best to keep Alfie from your thoughts, to focus on the new articles you’ve been assigned, to focus as you go to lunch with your friend and she tells you all about her latest boyfriend, to focus on anything but the man who won’t leave your brain even when you haven’t seen or spoken to him since you met him at the dog park.

But somehow, someone who was just supposed to be another story for you won’t leave your brain no matter what you do and when you picked up a bottle of his rum, just to give it a taste you assured yourself, you made sure to keep the bottle tucked away in your room to avoid Nancy getting a glimpse.

Just days before the article is set to be published you decide to take a day for yourself hoping to take your mind off the unusual worry you feel at the prospect of this particular article being released and as you walk out of your nail place, busy replying to a message, when you bump into something solid that lets out a deep noise of surprise.

Looking up, you’re sure your eyes are deceiving you when you see none other than Alfie Solomons standing in front of you.

He also has his phone in his hand, though his free hand grips your arm in an attempt to steady you and you’re conscious of the way his hand feels even through your coat.

“Alfie! I’m so sorry I didn’t see you,” you say, looking up into that face you just can’t seem to get out of your head.

“Not a problem, I didn’t notice you either,” he says, voice distracted as he glances over your shoulder at something further down the street.

His hand lingers on your arm, as if you’re keeping him rooted to the spot, but he’s focused on something or someone over your shoulder. You take a quick look but you can't seem to spot anything that might be grabbing his attention.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you say, though the way he barely looks at you makes the smile fade on your lips. “Sorry, am I keeping you from something?” you ask.

Finally he drags his gaze down to you, his furrowed brow easing as he looks over you.

“No, no it’s alright. Just a bit distracted today is all,” he says and you notice just how nicely dressed he is, a perfectly tailored suit and tie underneath what you suspect is a very expensive coat.

“Oh of course, I… you seem busy but you wouldn’t happen to have time for a coffee would you? It might take your mind off whatever is distracting you,” you offer, not entirely sure how he’s going to take the offer today when he seems so distracted. “My treat, since you got me a coffee last time.”

He looks at you for a moment and you can see the idea turning around in his head before he slips his phone into his pocket.

“After the morning I’ve had, that sounds perfect. There’s a place I know just down the street here,” he says.

You nod, not saying a word when Alfie slips his hand into yours and leads you down the street hoping that if you don’t say anything he won’t pull his hand away. Your hand fits comfortably inside his, and you find you don’t mind the rough texture of his palm against your own as he squeezes gently.

He leads you down the street and inside a coffee shop on the corner, a cozy place you’ve never noticed before with a fireplace to fight off the chill of the day and people tucked up around tables with cups of coffee in their hands as they talk with friends or read books spread out over tables.

Alfie leads you straight to an open table towards the back of the shop and only drops your hand as he pulls a chair out for you to sit on and sinks into his own across from you. With both your coats draped over your chairs, the two of you settle in nicely.

“So, what brings you out this way? Or do you live around here?” he asks, and you shake your head holding your hands out to show off your nails.

“I get my nails done down the street. It’s a bit out of my way but I like the girl who does them, I’ve not found anyone better,” you explain.

Alfie looks over your nails, nodding in what seems like approval as someone comes over and places two coffees and a plate of mini pastries on the table, not that you’d ordered anything yet.

“Oh thank you,” you say to the server with a smile, Alfie nods at the server and picks up his coffee.

“They know me here,” Alfie says by way of an explanation and you raise an eyebrow.

“So does the barista at the little place by my flat but he doesn’t bring me coffee and pastries without ordering,” your smile grows as you pick up your coffee. “Are you more important than you had me believe Alfie?”

Alfie doesn’t respond to that, only sips his coffee and shifts ever so slightly in his chair.

“You’re very dressed up today, it’s a good look on you. I feel a bit underdressed,” you tell him, smiling as you rake your eyes over him.

Alfie raises an eyebrow as he looks over the jeans and cardigan you’d picked out that morning, going more for comfort than anything else.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you’re wearin’,” he says.

“It’s just not as nice as that suit. What’s the occasion? Or is this normal for you and I’ve just seen you dressed down?”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee. “No this isn’t normal for me, I had a big meeting today with a couple of… business associates, needed to look my best.”

You smile, holding your own coffee between both hands.

“Well your best looks good,” you tell him truthfully, earning yet another smile from Alfie.

While usually the thought of Alfie makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, sitting here with him and talking feels easier than ever, the conversation between the two of you flows so easily until his phone goes off and he pulls it out of his pocket to look at it, that frown once again creasing his forehead.

“I’m sorry to cut this short but I have to go, something’s come up at work I need to take care of,” he explains, and while you understand a work emergency, you can’t help the disappointment you feel as he looks ready to stand up.

“Oh no I understand, don’t let me keep you any longer.”

He seems to notice your disappointment and pauses, holding his hand out to you.

“Pass me your phone,” he says, and without stopping to think, you take your phone from your bag, unlock it and pass it to him. “Here is my phone number,” he says, as he adds himself to your contacts before sliding your phone back to you.

You raise an eyebrow as you glance at the contact he’s made for himself despite already having a contact for him set up.

“I already have your number,” you point out but he shakes his head.

“That’s my personal number, I gave you my work number before. Now you can decide whether you want to text me.”

Smiling, you slip your phone back into your bag.

“Hm well I’ll have to think about that won’t I?” you say with a grin and he simply smiles as he stands and slips his coat back on.

“The coffee is on me, feel free to order another yeah? They know you’re with me so I’ll take care of the money next time,” he says and you smile when you realise he’s not going to accept any arguments since you had offered to pay for this round of coffee.

“Well thank you Mr Solomons,” you say, getting a good look at his suit from head to toe. “I hope you enjoy the article when it comes out in a few days.”

“I’ve no doubt I will."

You and Alfie say your goodbyes, and as he heads through the door you go up to the counter to ask about another cup of coffee and glance out the window to see him slip into the back of a black car.

Sitting back at the table, you take your phone out of your pocket and open a new message.

As Alfie settles into the car that pulls up for him he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and a smile creeps across his face as he reads the text you’ve sent him.

Thanks for the coffee xx

Next Chapter

[forabeatofadrum]

Summary: Simon Snow dies in the White Chapel, and Baz has to live an immortal life without him. Or so he thinks. Every twenty years, when the Veil lifts, Simon and Baz are able to reunite. Something is keeping Simon from moving on, and Baz doesn’t know if he wants to find out what that is, because it would mean letting go.

And if there’s one thing Baz can not do, it’s letting Simon go. 

Notes: Welcome to the fic that I affectionally call “damn Baz, you live like this?”, although Christina @facewithoutheart is the one who came up with the title Time After Time (thanks!)

I started this fic before Any Way The Wind Blows got published, so when it was still up in the air whether Baz was immortal or not, so back then I ran with the immortal!Baz idea and it turned into this. A few weeks ago I decided to finally revisit it and I’m happy to tell you that it’s almost finished. Yes, almost. The first four chapters are already finished and I hope to update this every Monday. 

Enjoy!

AO3

--

Before

~~

2016

I almost did not go to the funeral. 

In the end, I decided to go there to support Bunce. I wonder if I will ever forget the image of her screaming and clinging to Simon’s lifeless body. I don’t think I ever will. 

It was short and, well, sweet. It was a private funeral. The entire World of Mages could mourn their Chosen One, the Greatest Mage who sacrificed himself to defeat the Humdrum. 

We mourned Simon. 

I didn’t cry. I never do.

After the funeral, Bunce came up to me to tell me that she’s moving to America. She’s going to Chicago. Her boyfriend Micah lives there.

“I never actually planned on going to America,” she had said. Her voice was raw because of all the crying. “Simon always thought that, but no way in hell I was going to leave him.”

Now, she has no reason to stay.

Wellbelove has also decided to leave, but she’s going to California. She wants to become a vet. A Normal vet. 

I was never friends with either of them, but having them leave makes me ache. I did go to the funeral, but I did not go to the airport to say goodbye.

--

A lot of people don’t understand why I have come back to Watford. No one expected me to. This is the place where my mother and my boyfriend were murdered by the Mage. 

But people don’t understand how much Watford meant to those two. Simon loved Watford more than anything, including me, probably. And I was not going to be the first drop-out in the Pitch family. My mother would’ve wanted me to finish my education. 

It hurts to have the room to myself, though. Mitali Bunce, who is now the Headmistress, even tried to bend the rules, but magic can be unforgiving. I spend most my days outside my room and I spend the nights in Dev and Niall’s room.

I’m so grateful to have them as friends. No one else approaches me. They pity me, since they know what I’ve lost.

Everyone knows the true nature of my relationship with Simon. This was not the grandiose coming out that I had planned, but I also hadn’t planned on Simon being murdered. I still don’t fully understand how it happened. One moment, Simon and the Mage were holding each other. The next, they both dropped dead.

Dev and Niall try their best to distract me from my thoughts, but they weren’t there. They didn’t see what I saw. Still, I appreciate them. 

With Bunce gone, I am the top of our class. I am asked to give a speech at the Leaver’s Ceremony. I decline.

--

2017

I don’t make friends during uni. Dev and Niall have become a couple and they’ve moved to Oxford together. 

I try not to be jealous of them.

--

2022

Mitali Bunce is surprised to see me.

“Well, I must be dreaming,” she says when she reads my application again.

“You’re not, ma’am.”

Mitali looks up from my CV. “You sure you want this?”

I nod. Watford is my home. Watford brings me closer to the ones I’ve lost. I’m ready.