#timezones mean I don’t talk much but i would never have thought that a group chat meant for solo festival-attendees would end up like this

[foundationsofdecay]

wahhhh I love this ATG chat so much ;w;

[harrywritingsbyme]

A Special Valentine

Anonymous Said: would it be possible for the "series of firsts" it's harry's first time with a girl...

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: So I’ve been sitting on this concept for what seems life forever. I’ve gotten ideas and I’ve lost ideas and it’s been a good while of writing little drafts and stuff for this fic. But, I am so so so thankful to have @adore-you-hs2 and @honeyfulharries for helping me brainstorm some ideas for this fic!! Since I wrote a virgin!Y/n fic last year around valentines day, I figured I’d do a fic for Harry, only this time incorporating more of the valentines theme. So it’s hella soft and fluffy with a lil angst, and when you get to the smut it’s hella filthy😂I hope y’all like it and I hope all of you had a lovely day…yesterday or the day before bc this valentine is hella late and timezones are a bitch. This is a brand new installment in a series of firstsss!! Anywaysss…enjoy🙃❤️

7.3k wordsss

Harry was beyond embarrassed. He was almost at the point of being ashamed. While all of his friends divulged about their sex lives and talked about how their significant other was in bed, he just sat next to you idly without anything to add to the conversation. He couldn’t talk about his favorite positions to have you in or little tricks he has for the bedroom. He was a virgin and didn’t have any type of experience whatsoever in regards to sex. The most he’d ever done with someone was touching over the clothes and making out. When he was all by himself, Harry did what he had to do; which he actually felt like he did a pretty good job with. It’s not that he didn’t know what he was into or liked in regards to his pleasure. Harry knew what his favorite content was and he even had a couple toys he liked to use on himself. It’s just that when he got to the more intimate phase of the relationship, he always got flustered and nervous. Even when it came to oral or mutual masturbation. He didn’t exactly know why he wasn’t able to express himself or be the same person he was when he was behind closed doors and alone. What made matters even worse for him though was the fact that he always felt rushed. Like whenever he said that he wasn’t quite ready or that he was a virgin, the dynamic of the relationship shifted. Ultimately leaving him alone to feel embarrassed, a bit hopeless, and sad over the fact that he was still a virgin. He also felt unwanted given the fact that a couple of his prior relationships fizzled out pretty quickly after he revealed that he hadn’t had his first time and that he wasn’t ready to do so at that moment. 

Eventually though, Harry reached the point of not even bothering or trying to meet new people and be in a relationship. He felt like he’d never be accepted nor meet the right person for him, let alone be ready to go all the way. So he put all of that on the back burner and just went along with life, becoming content with being completely by himself. And then he met you. It was like the perfect cliche. You were the person who never judged him for being a virgin or tried to rush him into doing anything he wasn’t up to or ready for. You just loved him for him and you wanted to be with him and be in love. It was like he was being understood and heard for the first time in a very long time and it felt great. With you, Harry was never made to feel like he was less than because of his choice and feelings when it came to his virginity. In fact, when you listened to what he’d been through in the past, it broke your heart. You could tell that he was really heartbroken and deeply saddened about it all and you never wanted to make him feel that way or even worse. So you made it your mission to never put pressure on him when it came to this and you made it your mission to listen and be there for him. You weren’t going to back out of your relationship over this; you loved him too much to even consider doing that. 

Even though he was fine with and had accepted the idea of being by himself, Harry didn’t want that for the rest of his life. He wanted to be with someone, he wanted to love someone unconditionally and be unconditionally loved back. And he got just that in you. He’d have to spend an entire lifetime compiling all of the words that could describe how perfect you are and how much he loves your relationship. Sure the two of you annoyed the hell out of each other at times and had disagreements. But neither of you wanted to annoy or disagree with anyone else. Over the past almost year of being together, you and Harry grew closer and closer. You two grew to love each other more than ever and this love was growing more and more each day. You and Harry could agree that there was a long and bright future ahead for you two and that was very exciting for you both. And in the process of growing and building your relationship, the two of you never had sex. You always followed Harry’s lead and you just went with the flow. Now things got a bit hot and heavy at times, but you and Harry were more than capable of taking care of yourselves so you two just stopped and didn’t go any further. From the toys you both had to your special “entertainment” and your vivid imaginations, you two were were just fine until the right time came along. And you specifically, refused to put any type of pressure on Harry. When it came to your first time together and Harry’s first time ever, you had the mindset that if Harry was comfortable, you were comfortable. 

And that was another reason why Harry felt so embarrassed. He was sitting next to you, his incredibly supportive and understanding girlfriend, in the middle of a conversation with you guys’ friends about your sex lives when he’s never had sex with you, or anyone for that matter. Listening to them, he felt like he was sort of holding you back and not fulfilling you the way you deserved. Even though you reminded him that the right time was when he was ready and that you were perfectly fine with that, Harry still felt a way. He still felt embarrassed. And on top of all that, you were being so sweet and understanding in the midst of it all. You were really trying to make him a little less uncomfortable and not so out of place. You could sense and see a little bit of that in the way he sank into the couch and cuddled into you a little more, so you wanted to be there for him and help him relax a bit. You were making a little conversation with him while the others talked amongst themselves, you played with his rings, and you gave him little kisses here and there. But you could only do but so much in that moment. Despite your efforts, Harry still felt the same way. Without any warning, Harry moves away from you a bit and stands from the couch, quickly announcing to the group that he needed a little fresh air. At first you just let him go, figuring that you should let him have his space. But after a couple minuets of sitting there without him, not really wanting to engage in the conversation at hand, you decide to get up and go out to him, giving the excuse that you wanted to check on him and see if he was okay. To be honest, it felt very weird to sit there without him.

You quickly walk away from the group in the direction Harry left in, needing to find him soon as you possibly could. Once you made it out the front door you turn to find him sitting in one of the chairs a couple steps away looking completely deflated. You couldn’t let him be all alone when he was feeling like this. So you quietly walk over, sitting down in the chair next to him, with your body and attention completely in his direction.

“I couldn’t sit there anymore.” He huffs, breaking the silence and bringing his hands up to his face.

“I understand babe.” You sigh, reaching over to rub his arm.

“It’s just- It’s so embarrassing that I’m in my late 20’s an I haven’t done anything with you, or anyone else for that matter.” He explains. 

“That is nothing to be embarrassed about Harry.” You softly exclaim, picking yourself up from your seat to sit in his lap. “Your virginity is yours, and only yours. That’s your decision to make, not mine, nor anyone else’s.” You affirm. 

“But It’s not normal considering I’m 27! What are you even with me?! I don’t want you to be with me and not be fulfilled.” He stresses quietly, feeling incredibly defeated. The entire situation brought up feelings and thoughts that he’d tried very hard to get past. When he says this, you immediately cup the sides of his face, forcing him to focus on you. 

“Now I want you to listen to me. I am with you because I love you so fucking much and you’re the most amazing person in the entire world. Sex is great and all but I can wait as long as you need if it means being with you and loving you to pieces. Hell, I’ll wait until we’re married if that’s what you choose to do. The point is, I’m yours and I will wait as long as necessary. With or without sex, you fulfill me Harry.” You softly explain to him, looking him right in the eye as you say every word. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes as you spoke to him. 

“I love you so much Y/n.” Harry sighs, still feeling a bit down. “Can we go to your place and cuddle.” He mumbles through a pout. 

“Of course baby! I’ll run back inside and let everyone know you’re not feeling well and then we can head home. How does that sound?” You propose with a smile.

“That sounds amazing.” He sighs, a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Can I have a kiss first?” You ask, puckering your lips towards him. In response he gives you a cute little nod before you lean down to press your lips against his. When the two of you kiss you can feel Harry relax a bit, which is exactly what you wanted. You knew that this wouldn’t solve this entirely, but it was a step in the right direction and it made Harry feel a little better which was all that mattered. “Now you wait right here and I’ll be right back.” You softly instruct after pulling away from his lips, following up with another kiss to the forehead before moving yourself off of his lap and back inside. After letting everyone know that Harry wasn’t feeling well and that you two were going to head out, you and Harry go back to your place and spend time together, cuddling and watching you guys’ favorite show and some movies, eventually falling asleep all cuddled with each other.

~ ~ ~ 

After that day, Harry began to think about going all the way with you and finally having sex for the first time a lot more than usual. Over the past year almost, you’ve shown him that you really do love and care about him. You never pressured him into doing anything and you always reminded him that he should do all of this at his own pace. You also showed him that you were the one; you were the one he could and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. There were just so many things about you that he loved. So many things that Harry couldn’t imagine having his first time with anyone else. And he made sure to tell you that after deliberating on the matter for a couple of days. 

“I think I’m ready to lose it.” Harry whispers, completely out of the blue as the two of you wash the dishes from your little date night.

“You’re ready to y’know, have sex?” You question, wanting to make sure you heard him correctly. 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a little bit and I realized that I’m ready to do it. And I want to do it with you. I wouldn’t want to have my first time with anyone else to be completely honest with you.” He explains, a small smile spreading across his face as he continues drying the dishes you’ve washed and handed over to him.

“Well I’m very honored, that you’re entrusting me with this. And I hope that it’s as good as you’ve imagined.” You reply to him, beginning to feel a bit of nervousness and excitement at the idea of being Harry’s first time. You’d never thought about it much since Harry wasn’t ready. But now that he was, you were feeling so many things and you were thinking about so many things as the time had finally come.

“Well I highly doubt that it will be anything less than amazing baby.” Harry hums, dropping the dishtowel and turning his attention to you. “I love you.” He sighs happily, prompting you to turn your head to face him.

“I love you too babe.” You coo, leaning in to press a quick peck to his lips.

~ ~ ~

Now you refused to let Harry’s first time be anything short of special. So you decided to plan something romantic for you two at your place, and you planned for this to be on Valentines Day. Not only would it be your first time celebrating as a couple, but it would also be your first intimate moment with Harry. And you wanted everything to be perfect, so you made a list of everything you’d need for the night at least a week or two in advance. You had everything from ingredients for dinner to a new set of lingerie. You also went over the list several times to make sure that you got everything you could possibly need for that night. You even went as far as to plan a little backup dinner in case something went wrong with the initial plan. You just wanted to make this night perfect for Harry. He’d gone through a lot in his relationships to get here and you wanted him to see that doing it all at his pace paid off and that he was special and loved. In the couple of days leading up to the big day, you began shopping and getting everything together. You got all of the food, wine, and decoration along with your lingerie and some other things for yourself that would make the entire experience that much better.

And when the day finally came, you were excited and all ready to go.

You had dinner cooking, the wine was in the fridge chilling, your bedroom was all set up with a fresh set of sheets, a couple candles set up and ready to be lit, a mix of red and white rose petals on the bed, and the perfect playlist (which you spent a good amount of time on) queued up. Not to mention the fact that you had your lingerie and everything perfectly set up in the bathroom so that you could be ready to change right into it after dinner. All you needed now was Harry. When he texted you to let you know that he was less than ten minuets away, you quickly throw on the dress you’d picked out for the evening along with your shoes and you do a final once over in the mirror before leaving your bedroom, making sure to close the door to keep that part of the evening a surprise. You pulled the wine from the fridge and you put the finishing touches on the table that was perfectly set for your dinner. In the final minuets before Harry’s arrival, you do a final walk through of everything you’d set up, it ending with a soft knock on your door signaling to you that Harry had arrived. When you hear him, your heart immediately begins to race from being nervous and excited for the night ahead. You immediately move yourself to the door, quickly giving yourself a little pep talk before opening the door for Harry. And when you did, you were almost certain you were going to pass out. Not only because you were buzzing around your apartment doing everything, but also because your boyfriend looked so good. What he had on was very simple but it was doing so much at the same time. You just wanted to pull him straight to the bedroom. But you didn’t. It took a lot of self control, but Harry was able to make it inside and settle down a bit before you two hit the bedroom

But it wasn’t that much of a gap in between Harry settling in and you two hitting the bedroom though. See, once you let him inside and gave him a kiss, it was like game over. He had a big basket that was beautifully filled with the things you loved and a couple presents he got you  in one hand, and a big bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other. When he got inside, Harry happily and proudly gave them both to you and let you check them both out while he snooped around in the kitchen a little to see what you had prepared and opened the bottle of wine you had out on the counter for you two. Once you started, you couldn’t stop gushing over and thanking Harry for what he got you. It was beyond thoughtful and you couldn’t wait for him to fully experience his gift of the night you’d planned out. Once you and Harry began talking and drinking a little, you two loosened up and were enjoying each other. The lights were dimmed a bit, there were candles just about everywhere, you and Harry were in love, and the two of you were all alone. It was absolutely perfect and romantic. On top of all that though, there was the pleasant elephant in the room, that being Harry giving you the green light that he was ready for his first time. If there were no other indicators in the days leading up to this moment, there was definitely one now that was strongly pointing to him losing it tonight. He wasn’t anxious and he wasn’t thinking about backing out and telling you that he’s changed his mind. He knew that you’d be all on board with that but Harry was absolutely ready to be with you intimately. He was so ready that he couldn’t take his mind off it on the ride over. And once he arrived, Harry was completely floored by how amazing you looked and how you put this entire evening together that he was even more ready to go to the bedroom. He was so ready and excited that he completely gave up on talking. The two of you transitioned yourselves into the kitchen to get started with dinner, but Harry was very much so enjoying the idea of saving that for later. So without any word from him on what he was in the mood for, Harry takes your wine glasses and sits them on the counter, freeing your hands up as he traps you in between his body and the kitchen counter before attaching his lips with yours. 

When he does this, you practically melt under his touch. You were already in a daze from how amazing he looked, and from how sweet and amazing he was to you. So when Harry began to kiss you with such passion and need, you instantly obliged. Again, you were following his lead. If he wanted to skip and come back to dinner, you weren’t going to oppose one bit. As the two of you continued to kiss, you could feel him hardening against you which prompted the area between your legs to initiate the process of becoming all warm and sticky and go into overdrive. His hands were on your body, he was tightly pressed against you, and his mouth was magically moving against yours. This was just what you needed to fully get into the skipping right to the bedroom mood. It wouldn’t have taken much on Harry’s end to get you there but this was fantastic, so you weren’t complaining at all. When you hear Harry let out a soft moan into your mouth and move himself against you a little, you decide to take control and move you two to the bedroom a little faster. 

“Do you wanna just come back to dinner?” You whisper after pulling your lips away from his a bit.

“Mhm.” He immediately hums in response, loosening himself from your body so that you could move a bit more.

“Then let’s go.” You whisper with a smile, moving yourself from underneath him and grabbing his hand, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom. When you reach the door, you tease him a little by slowly turning the door knob, making sure to keep eye contact the entire time to drive him insane. And that definitely did the trick of riling him up some more. That is, until he got all soft once the bedroom was revealed to him. You went out of your way to make this space romantic since this was the place where he’d have his first time. “I wanted to make everything perfect for you.” You softly explain as you pull him into the room. 

“Have I told you that I love you tonight?” He asks, through a small breath. 

“Probably about a million times.” You happily joke with him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Well for time one million and one, I love you so  so much. Like with my entire being. I love you so much that it hurts. And I couldn’t be more honored to be yours.” Harry says, bringing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss to seal the deal.

“I love you so much baby, so much.” You reply happily to him, so excited to move into the next step of your relationship. “Now get back into I want sex mode...that’s so hot on you and I have another surprise.” You continue, wanting to keep going and go all the way. 

“Considering how hard I am, I don’t think I’ll be out of “I want sex mode” for a while.” Harry truthfully replies with a chuckle that had the slightest tinge of bashfulness from how he was already rock hard and ready for you.

“Good! Now lay down and wait for me.” You say, unwrapping your arms from around his neck and pulling you both towards the bed before pushing him back down onto it. You then proceed to straddle him, bringing your face down to a mere inch or so away from his. “And if you wanna take your clothes off too, I’m definitely unopposed. ” You suggest with a smirk, planting a little peck to his lips before climbing off of his lap and walking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom where your lingerie was waiting for you, leaving Harry on the bed completely dumbstruck and needy. 

As soon as you close the bathroom door, you immediately begin working on removing your dress, pulling the zipper down to loosen it up and shrugging it off your body leaving you completely naked. As you looked in the mirror, you began to debate on whether or not you wanted to surprise him with being all naked or teasing him and making him work for it a little with the lingerie you had out and ready. Even though you were ready to just run back out there completely naked and just get down to business, you decided to put on the lingerie and let Harry unwrap you. As you put it on, all you could think about was Harry taking it all off. Like you could imagine him pulling it all off your body. With your panties especially, you could picture him pulling them off strings of your arousal coming with them. After getting the lacy garments on your body, you start pulling and moving it all around a bit. Once you’re all done with the lingerie, you pull the little sheer robe that came along with it on and you take a couple deep breaths before making your way back out to Harry. When you walk back into the bedroom, Harry’s eyes immediately shoot in your direction and practically pop out of his head when he sees you. He’d seen you in a two piece bathing suit before but that was about it. He’d never seen you this bare and exposed before. As you moved around the room to light the candles, Harry’s eyes followed your every move  and you could feel it. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as you lit the candles and really set the mood for your time together. After you lit the candles and pressed play for your music, you were all ready to go. 

When you turn your full attention to Harry, you weren’t that surprised to see him fighting to quietly palm at his cock on the bed. His eyes were tightly closed as he squeezed his cock through his underwear. He was so engrossed on keeping himself quiet and relieving some of the pressure that had been mounting from the time he left home that he didn’t even notice you crawling up the bed. What he does notice though is you straddling his thighs, when he feels you on top of him, his eyes immediately shoot open and he quickly retracts his hand from his lap.

“You just look so good, I couldn’t help myself.” He rushes out in explanation. He could see it all. Your breasts were sitting perfectly in the lacy bra you were wearing, and from where Harry was, they looked beyond amazing. When his eyes traveled a bit lower, he could see where the two sides of your panties met to form a barely there strip to cover your pussy. If that wasn’t enough, the fabric was clinging to you and pushing up into your folds since the panties were pretty much nonexistent and you were very wet. He’d pictured you on top of him before, just never like this.

“Well I’m glad you like it because it’s all yours.” You reply, moving yourself up his body to sit right in his lap, causing Harry to gasp from the sight and feeling of you being naked and right on his cock. Harry was in sensory overload and so overwhelmed that he couldn’t form a single word in response. “Are you okay baby?” You softly ask, bringing your hand down to his cheek.

“Mhm…you just look so good, I don’t know where to start.” He whispers, bringing his eyes to meet yours. 

“You could start by touching me.” You suggest, reaching down to grab Harry’s hand and bring it up to one of your thighs to which Harry replicates with his other hand. Instead of rushing him along, you wanted him to explore your body and relax into the intimacy. You wanted him to be comfortable and do the things he’d dreamt of and feel the things he always wanted to feel. “And just relax” You begin, leaning down to bring your mouth to his ear. “I have a strong feeling that you’re gonna be really good at this.” You admit to him before lifting yourself back up. When Harry hears this, he eases up. Hearing that you thought he’d be good was the confidence boost he needed to get the ball rolling.

He begins to move his hands up your thighs, curling his thumbs inward towards the inner, more sensitive area. His hands continue on up your body, pushing past your hips, and all the way up to your chest where he brings both of his hands around to wrap them around your covered breasts. When he does this, you let out a little sigh of relief, loving the way his big hands felt around you. Harry loved how soft and squishy they felt in his hands, and he wanted to feel more. So he pushes his hands underneath your arms and manages to swiftly undo your bra. He couldn’t do it with one hand yet but you were very impressed (and even more turned on) at how he as able to quickly do it on his first try. The fabric is now hanging loosely on your body, allowing Harry to pull it down and off your body to fully expose your breasts to him. Your nipples were fully pebbled and practically screaming for him to play with them. He brings his hands back around, going straight to your breasts and right to your nipples. His fingers tugged and twisted at them, leaving you unable to hold back anymore moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You also couldn’t help but to grind down against his clothed cock, which in turn caused Harry to start moaning beneath you. The soft music was now completely overpowered by your combined moans. 

“Can I be on top?” He pants, dying to get you completely naked and explore your body.

“Anything you want!” You exclaim, through one of your moans. Letting Harry take control of everything, you let him flip you two over so that he’s hovering over your body. As soon as he’s on top of you, Harry’s mouth immediately latches onto your skin, starting at the side your your neck. He starts sponging and sucking wet kisses into your skin, leaving a trail of them down your chest, stopping at the tops of your breasts so that he could pay them some more attention. The takes them both into his mouth individually and suckles on them, lapping his wet tongue around your nipples and squeezing the supple flesh surrounding them. For some reason, Harry felt at home with his mouth around your nipples. It was so good that Harry was rutting his clothed cock against you. As he continues, you’re softly moaning from the pleasure. You had a hand wrapped in his hair and the other on his back as he mouthed at your breasts. And as if he could read your mind, Harry picks up where he left off with his trail of kisses and makes his way further down your body. 

You wanted him to just explore your body and touch and feel you the way you knew he’d imagined. But you really wanted him between your legs. Your cunt had swallowed up the panties by now and the panties were nothing more than a damp piece of string at this point. When he makes it to the hand of your panties, Harry’s heart begins to speed up, excited to take them off and see what was underneath. He pushes his fingers into the thin bands that were wrapped around your hips and he begins to pull them down. He carefully watches as your cunt is being revealed to him. He can see how you were sopping wet and how plushy and soft your pussy was. There were strings of your arousal connecting your cunt and panties as he pulled them from between your legs. Once they fully off of you, and you’re completely naked, Harry lifts himself up from between your legs to soak in your naked body. He couldn’t believe how beautiful your naked body looked for him. You looked so soft and pretty below him, completely spread and exposed to him.

“Y’so pretty baby.” He sighs, bringing his hands down to your thighs. “Can I eat you baby?” He sweetly asks, bringing his eyes down between your legs so look at the sticky mess that was between your thighs. 

“Please Harry!” You moan, desperately needing his mouth on you again. At your response, Harry lays back down on the bed between your spread legs. He could smell your arousal and he was incredibly excited to taste you. He’d never don’t this before so he was a bit nervous that he wouldn’t do that good of a job. “Just lick into me baby, nothing to be nervous about.” You remind above him, bringing your hand to his head to give his hair a little tug. And with that, Harry dives right in. He just buries his face into your cunt, lapping his tongue up and down your folds. He pushed his tongue anywhere he could. He pushed between your folds, nestling his tongue right inside and against your entrance. He could feel the small opening and his cock immediately twitched in his pants. His cock was supposed to fit in there? While he didn’t want to hurt you, Harry was so interested and curious to see how you’d take all of him. He knew it wasn’t impossible but it was definitely something he was excited to see in person. He was so excited that he couldn’t stop himself from digging his hips into the mattress below. You tasted so good, you were incredibly warm, and he was beyond excited to feel your cunt around his cock.

You on the other hand were falling apart at the seams. You were on cloud nine, completely obsessed with the way he was licking into you. His strokes weren’t those of someone who was skilled and had done this before. But they were definitely amazing and you couldn’t get enough. He was licking and sucking on you perfectly, he even managed to find your clit. And it was his first time ever. He even tried pushing the tip of his tongue into your entrance, prodding at your tight hole. And on top of all that, he was moaning against you, seemingly enjoying how you tasted. When he wasn’t licking at your cunt, Harry was licking your thighs, almost trying to clean you up. He licked your thighs, the area right outside of your pussy, and he even licked the area below your cunt. He was hypnotized by your cunt. He just wanted to stay between your legs forever and have his mouth on you while he humped the bed below him. Of course he wanted to push his cock into you, but after he ate your cunt.

“Need you inside me Harry!” You scream, bucking your hips up into his mouth a bit. You were feeling incredibly sensitive and you could feel your own release coming. And before you came, you needed to feel Harry’s cock inside of you. When he hears you beg for him to be inside of you, he immediately stops and pulls himself up from the bed. When he’s kneeling between your legs, your eyes travel up from his no doubt painfully large bulge to his face. From his mouth down to his chin, even his nose, Harry’s face was glistening with your juices.

“Whats so funny?” He asks confusedly.

“Your face is all wet.” You reply, a wide smile spread across your face in the process.

“I just love eating your pussy.” He says truthfully, leaning down for a kiss. When your lips connect, you wrap your arms around Harry’s neck to keep him down against you. His lips sloppily move against yours, moaning into your mouth as he pushes his clothed cock against your bare and incredibly sensitive cunt. Keeping one of his elbows planted on the bed, Harry brings his other hand down to his boxers and does his best to push them down his legs. He struggles a bit before finally getting them down enough to expose his cock. When you feel him nudge you a little bit, you immediately turn your mouth away from Harry’s, turning your attention downwards between his legs.

“Need some help baby?” You offer, unwrapping your arms from around his neck and extending them down to his hips. 

“Just need t’take them off.” He replies, quickly lifting himself up from on top of you to fully remove his boxers. Harry then goes back to kneeling between your legs, now with his painfully hard and dripping cock on display. You knew that he was big from the glances you’d taken at his pants a couple times, but you didn’t know that he was this big. He was hands down the biggest you’d ever taken, and no one before him ever came close. On top of his monstrous size, you could see the thick veins running up his shaft and you saw precum beading at his swollen slit. You wanted him inside you first, but your mouth was definitely watering. You couldn’t wait until you were able to take him into your mouth and stuff all of him inside. But for now, you were excited to take him inside of you for the first time and be his first time.

“Are you ready babe?” You ask. 

“Mhm. I um- I bought some condoms just in case. It’s up to you though. I trust that you’re all good.” He says, laughing a little in the end. 

“I bought some too. But I think we’re good. And I trust that you’re all good as well.” You reply with a shy smile.

“Okay then, let’s do this.” He cheerfully says. 

“Let’s do it!” You reply, mirroring his excitement. “Do you want me on top or are you good?”

“I think I’m good.” He says, as he leans down to closely hover over you. “But I know you’re going to feel like heaven so I may not be.” 

“That’s okay, I can take control.” You reply suggestively, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. 

“Good, I like the sound of that.” He whispers in agreement, connecting his mouth with yours for one final kiss as he slowly and carefully pushes his cock against your folds. “Fuck, m’gonna push in now baby.” He pants, already losing his shit over how warm and wet your folds feel against his cock.

“Please.” You moan, needing to be full of his cock. 

And with that, Harry begins to push his cock into you, using one of his hands to guide himself inside. When Harry pushes past your entrance, you two lose it. You were so tight that when his engorged head pushes into you, there a piercing sensation that comes along with it. You hadn’t had sex in a very long time and Harry’s size was completely unmatched. For Harry, he was on the verge of collapsing on top of you. You were so so tight and warm and wet, he’d never felt anything like it. No matter how much lube he used or how fast he tugged at his shaft, he never and would never be able to match the decadence of your walls around him. And he’d only pushed the head of him inside. He actually had to stop for a second to get his bearings because his head was spinning. Once he’s caught his breath and the room stopped spinning as fast, Harry continues pushing himself inside. With every inch that becomes sheathed with your walls, your combined moans get louder. Your mouths mouth never closed, and your eyes fluttered shut as you two enjoyed the pleasure. You were in love with the perfectly balanced mix of pain and pleather came from Harry pushing into and stretching your your walls a bit to accommodate his size. Harry was taken to a different universe from the way your walls engulfed his cock. You could even feel him twitch a bit from how good he felt. 

By the time he finished pushing into you, Harry’s cock was lodged all the way inside you. So deep you could just about feel him in the pit of your stomach. It was hands down incredible for the two of you. After holding himself inside of you for a little while, Harry begins to move himself back and forth inside of you. Since it was his first time doing this and feeling this for that matter, his thrusts were a bit sloppy and staggered. He tried to form a faster rhythm, or a rhythm at all but he was so overwhelmed. 

“Thought I could hold it longer, but I don’t think I can. Can’t even hold myself up.” He slurs, trying to continue with his thrusts. 

“Gonna get on top baby.” You moan, feeling your own release getting even closer. Without a single hesitation, you push the two of you over to that you’re on top of him, straddling his waist and keeping his cock deep inside of you. Once your adjusted on top of him, feeling like his cock was deeper than before if that was even possible, you begin to move yourself up and down on him. You weren’t going super fast, you were going fast enough to make you and Harry really feel it and get closer and closer to your releases. Harry was loudly moaning and whimpering below you, tightly intertwining his fingers with yours as he surrenders to you, and your pussy. He thrashed his head back and forth against the pillows from how good he was feeling. 

“Y’so big!” You cry out to him, beginning to quickly grind down onto his cock, pushing forward a bit to dig your clit into his lower stomach. “And so deep! Can feel you all the way in here!” You cry out to him, bringing your intertwined hands up to your lower stomach for him to feel.

“Fuck Y/n! Can’t hold it anymore! Need t’cum” He groans, feeling his release beginning to consume his body.

“Me too baby! We can cum together!” You whimper, leaning down to lay on his chest. And as you begin to leave soft kisses on Harry’s lips and face, your walls begin to contract around his cock, signaling to him that you were cumming. When he felt this, Harry came right along with you. He coats all of your walls in his warm, thick, and sticky cum, spraying rope after rope into you until he couldn’t cum anymore. Your legs were full on shaking as you squirted all over his cock. The both of you were moaning messes and completely dumbstruck at how powerful your releases were. Nothing could ever compare to this and neither of you wanted to test out that theory. After letting go of everything you two had to give, you and Harry lied limply in bed, letting your bodies rest.

“I love you baby.” Harry whispers sluggishly below you.

“I love you too baby.” You softly reply back to him, nuzzling your face into his warm neck.

For the next half hour, the two of you lay there together, resting your bodies and minds from the extraordinary experience the two of you had. You two were lying there peacefully, enjoying the feeling of each others bodies and the music that was still playing through your speaker. Out of the two of you, Harry was the first to break the silence. Except, it wasn’t from him talking. It was from his stomach, letting the both of you know that he needed to be fed asap. 

“When we can feel our legs again, we can eat I guess.” You breathe out through a laugh, still recovering from the most amazing sex you’d ever had and probably some of the best sex of all human history in your opinion. Even though it was his first time, Harry still managed to make a mess of you. 

“Mhm, and then we can go again.” He hums dreamily, not even caring about his grumbling stomach, completely in the clouds from how amazing his first time was. He came in with his “expectations” and was completely blown out of the water. He just wanted to go again and again and again until he was fully numb and wiped out. “Maybe you can be on your front this time.” He suggests, thinking of all the ways he wanted to feel you around him.

“I think I may have created a sex monster.” And to be honest, you really didn’t mind that at all.

“Only for you my love.” He hums, wrapping his arms around your body. 

And for the rest of the night, you and Harry never stopped, loving being tangled up in each other. It wasn’t always in bed, but neither of you cared. All you two cared about was being together, feeling good, and being in love. This was truly a special valentine. It was one that neither you nor Harry would ever forget.

Masterlist

[purrincess-chat]

My Chosen’s Keeper CH3 (FINAL)

Here is the last chapter of the petty kwami AU. I have basically this whole week off because of Hurricane Sally, so I decided to go ahead and post the last chapter since I finished it up. I’m so happy you all enjoy this fic, and I hope you like the conclusion!

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

After a week, Lila stopped scheming against Marinette. In fact, she’d stopped doing much of anything. Every so often she’d look over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be following her, and she flinched every time she opened her locker or her bag.

Tikki was satisfied enough with their efforts, though she worried they’d gone too far when Lila spun around on poor Nathaniel walking behind her to his seat. Her goal was to inconvenience Lila, not scare her out of her skin, and now her stomach was churning too much to enjoy her morning macaron. She popped into Adrien’s bag where Plagg was dozing in an empty Camembert carton and shook him awake.

“Plagg, do you think maybe we went too far with all of this?” She asked, but Plagg simply shrugged his shoulders and burped.

“Relax, sugar cube. That girl got what was coming to her.”

“Yeah, but she’s petrified now, and people are starting to notice,” she said with a nervous glance up at the open zipper. “I think we should stop.”

“Fine,” Plagg yawned, and Tikki prodded his side.

“I’m serious, Plagg. No more pranks.”

“Okay,” he said, and she sat back, antenna pressing low against her head.

“Good,” she said with a nod.

As the bell rang, Tikki slipped back into Marinette’s bag before her owner noticed her absence. She tried to push the whole situation from her mind, but when Alya leaned against Marinette’s neighboring locker, her nerves only worsened.

“Lila’s been acting super paranoid today. I wonder what’s bugging her,” Alya whispered, casting a glance at their classmate across the room.

“Nathaniel told me she thinks she’s being haunted,” Marinette said. Even she seemed concerned, and Tikki shrank deeper into her purse.

“I mean, a lot of crazy stuff has been happening to her, so maybe she is,” Alya said with a wince.

“I wouldn’t doubt if she’d made a spirit angry,” Marinette mumbled, and Alya leaned in closer.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I feel kinda bad for her. I saw her dozing off in class earlier. She must not be sleeping,” Alya said, biting her lip. “Hey, why don’t we all plan a sleepover? Maybe if a group of us supports her then she’ll feel safe enough to sleep.”

“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Marinette said, sounding anything but willing. “You plan it, and I will definitely not think of an excuse not to go.”

“I’ll ask her this afternoon. It’ll be fun.” Alya nudged her with her elbow before they headed to their next class.

To Tikki’s horror, not only did Lila accept the sleepover invitation, but somehow, she managed to convince them to host it at Marinette’s house. Lila had a way of backing people into corners, and Marinette didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Tikki was equally as unenthused. Just what she needed—another reason to get involved.

“Plagg, what am I gonna do?” Tikki asked that afternoon in art class. “I know she’s up to something!”

“Do you want me to leave stinky cheese in her locker again?”

“No!”

“Good because it’s a terrible waste of perfectly good cheese.”

“Plagg! I’m serious. What if Lila does something to my owner tonight?” Tikki said, tugging his arm. “Help me!”

“I thought you wanted to be done with all of this? No more pranks?” Plagg said, and Tikki averted her gaze, antenna lowering.

“I do, but she’s coming into her personal home. What if she finds her diary and learns that she’s Ladybug? Or what if she just so happens to steal her earrings? Or what if-”

“Don’t worry, sugar cube. I’ll help you tonight. Lila won’t get away with anything, okay?” Plagg said, patting her head.

“You mean it?”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Plagg asked, and Tikki’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, bad question. I promise I won’t let you down—this time.”

“Thanks, Plagg.”

Later that evening, Tikki chewed her lip as Marinette tidied up for her guests. She’d helped remove any lingering Adrien pictures despite her friends all knowing about her crush, but Marinette was just as wary of having Lila over as Tikki. As a result, she was taking a few extra precautions like hiding her diary and anything else Lila could use against her. It eased some of Tikki’s worry, but not all of it.

“Are you really going to have that girl over?” She asked as Marinette locked her important belongings in her chest.

“I couldn’t exactly say no. Lila is too good at manipulating everyone. If I had said no, she would have made it seem like I hate her,” Marinette said, leaning against her fist.

“But you do hate her.”

“Yeah, but I can’t prove why I hate her to everyone, so I don’t have a choice,” Marinette sighed. “We’ll just have to be extra careful tonight. I doubt Lila will try anything with all of the girls over.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

Thankfully Alya arrived first to help set up because Lila was the first after her. She seemed surprised and slightly annoyed to find Alya there as well, and Tikki’s blood boiled at the sight of her. She popped up to the roof, tapping her paws together as she peered out over the street. The night was calm and quiet—a direct contrast to the storm brewing inside her. Where was Plagg?

“Ya know, you really worry too much.”

She spun around to see him lounging on the chair with a cheese danish from the bakery. Relief flooded her mind, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. “Where have you been?”

“Relax, sugar cube. I was doing some important reconnaissance,” he said around a mouthful.

“You mean helping yourself to whatever your greedy stomach wanted?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You are so selfish!”

“Oh, then I suppose you already know that Lila has a lockpick in her bag?”

“She- you- oh…Well, then we should-”

“Already did. And her toothbrush just for fun,” he snickered, and Tikki lowered onto the chair beside him. “I’m a little insulted that you don’t believe in me.”

“Dinosaurs, Atlantis, the Black Plague…”

Plagg bit off a chunk of his pastry and chewed it grumpily. “We never talk about your mistakes.”

“Thank you, Plagg,” Tikki said, and he blinked, swallowing the rest of the danish whole. “For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me.” He turned his back to her and waved it away, but she could see the smile tugging on his lips. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”

The girls were gathered in Marinette’s room when Tikki and Plagg snuck in and took position on Marinette’s bed. Marinette had strategically positioned herself on top of her locked chest, and partnered with Plagg’s disposal of Lila’s lock pick, it eased some of Tikki’s nerves. At least her secrets would be safe, but that didn’t mean Lila didn’t have other tricks up her sleeve.

After a while, they moved downstairs to watch a movie, and Mr. Dupain brought up homemade pizza. Plagg groaned beside her as the girls pulled apart stretchy strips of cheese, and Tikki restrained him from flying down and helping himself.

Halfway through the movie, Lila got up to go to the bathroom, and Tikki followed. Just as she feared, the moment the door closed, Lila set to work silently opening cabinets. Tikki had half a mind to spray her with the sink nozzle again, but after a few minutes of searching, Lila found what she was looking for—a metal nail file. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair and tucked them both into her pocket.

Back out in the main room, she announced that she was going to go upstairs and call her mom who was traveling overseas on some important ambassador thing, and she only had a short window in the evening to talk to her because of timezones or something. It didn’t matter the reason because it was a lie. Marinette’s glare followed her up the stairs with Tikki right behind it.

“Plagg?” She hissed, glancing around for that lazy black cat, but she didn’t have to guess where he was. “I told you not to touch the pizza!”

Plagg clung to the piece he was greedily stuffing in his mouth as Tikki tugged on his tail. “Oh come on! Mr. Dupain makes his own mozzarella. I couldn’t resist!”

“Lila is on the move! She took a nail file from the bathroom, and now she’s upstairs! Come on!”

Plagg caressed his slice of pizza one last time before Tikki dragged him up the stairs. Lila was already kneeling beside the chest, nail file and bobby pin at work.

“Come on, stupid chest. I know Marinette is behind all of the weird stuff happening to me lately,” she grumbled. “I just need something to blackmail her with to make it all stop. Just open!”

“Plagg, what are we gonna do?” Tikki whispered, and Plagg was already surveying the rest of the room.

“Follow my lead,” he said, darting for the nearest mannequin.

Lila nearly had the lock open when a stack of shoeboxes toppled over, and she jumped. Seeing that it was only boxes, she took a deep breath and turned back to her work.

“What?” She gasped when her makeshift lock picks were no where to be found.

“Lila…”

She startled, jumping up and spinning around, but no one was in the room. No one she could see anyway.

“Liiiila…”

“Very funny, Marinette. I know it’s you. It’s been you the whole time. I don’t know how, but you won’t beat me,” she said, but the way her eyes flicked frantically around the room betrayed her true fear.

“Leave her alone…”

The mannequin by the chaise, surged forward, and Lila’s scream filled the house. She scrambled for the trapdoor, but it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tugged. The girls rushed up the stairs, Marinette at the front. She pushed the trapdoor open easily to find Lila curled into a ball on the floor, tears streaming down her face.

“What are you doing?” Marinette demanded, and Alya crawled up to wrap an arm around Lila’s shoulders.

“The mannequin!” Lila wailed.

“What about it?” Marinette asked.

“It-It talked and moved and-and-” She pointed across the room, but the mannequin had returned to its original place. Even the shoeboxes had righted themselves. “But…”

“Maybe we should all just go to bed,” Alya suggested, and Lila grabbed her shoulders.

“But it did move! I swear I’m not making it up,” she said, gripping her shirt so tightly that Alya swatted her hands away with a hiss.

“I think you’re just tired-”

“Or crazy,” Marinette mumbled, masking it with a cough.

“Sleep deprivation can make you see weird things,” Alya said. “Come on. Let’s get you some sleep.”

As the girls moved downstairs again, Marinette eyed her chest, but her secrets were safe. Tikki still stayed up all night to make sure Lila didn’t try anything again, but their ghost stunt seemed to have scared her off the idea.

When morning light streamed in from the windows, Tikki sat back with a yawn. Curling in next to Plagg snoring loudly on Marinette’s chaise, she slipped off into sleep with the reassurance that Marinette was safe.

***

The Monday after the sleepover, Lila entered the school on a quest for vengeance. Dark bags hung under blood-shot eyes, and her whole demeanor was slightly unhinged as everyone hung out in the courtyard on break. Tikki knew she was going to target Marinette again, so she lingered close by—waiting.

Marinette was sketching on a bench by herself while a maintenance man repainted the railing to her left. When he reached a stopping point, he scooted the ladder next to the bench and took his break, but Marinette never looked up from her drawing.

“Hey, I heard about the sleepover. What happened?” Adrien materialized at Marinette’s side, startling her out of her skin. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Marinette relaxed. “I don’t know. I knew she was up to no good, and while we were all watching a movie, she went up to my room to ‘call her mom’ then she just started screaming and freaking out,” Marinette said, shooting her a glare across the courtyard. “I don’t really know what happened, but she swears my mannequin talked to her.”

“Do you think she’s doing it all for attention?” Adrien asked, but Marinette pursed her lips.

“I don’t think so this time. She seemed really freaked out when we found her. I think she’s actually losing her mind,” Marinette said.

“You don’t think she’s really being haunted, do you?” Adrien’s green eyes clouded with worry.

“I don’t know,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Maybe she is making it all up for attention, or maybe all of her lying is finally catching up to her.”

“Let’s hope this convinces her to start telling the truth whatever it is,” he said. “I’m just glad she didn’t do anything to you. I was worried when I heard she was coming to your house for a sleepover.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed at that, and she took her eyes off Lila. Adrien was the perfect distraction, but Tikki wasn’t so easily deterred because Lila was watching them too. Their friendly smiles and close proximity drove her over the edge. When she dashed toward them, Tikki braced herself, but Lila wasn’t aiming for the bench.

Tikki glanced up at the paint can resting precariously on the top of the ladder beside them, recognizing the intent in Lila’s eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, flitting up to the bucket.

Lila rocked the ladder, but against the laws of natural physics, the can twirled around and dumped on top of her. The courtyard fell silent as the can clattered to the ground, and Lila wiped green paint from her face.

“That’s it!” She screeched, pointing a finger at Marinette. “This is all your fault!”

“Lila, Marinette didn’t do anything. I was talking to her the whole time,” Adrien said, holding up cautioning hands.

“No! Everything is her fault!” Lila stomped a foot. “I don’t know how you keep doing it, but I know it’s you!”

“Lila, what are you-” Alya started, but Lila lunging at Marinette cut her off. Nino and Ivan caught her, and Adrien took a defensive stance in front of Marinette.

“How did you do it, Marinette?” She growled. “I put those test answers in your schoolbag, but they weren’t there when Mlle. Bustier checked! I planted my necklace in your locker during lunch, but somehow you put it back! How did you do it?”

Marinette and Adrien cupped hands over their mouths as the weight of those words settled among their classmates. Confusion and anger snaked its way onto every face, and more classmates joined Adrien guarding Marinette.

“Wait, you tried to frame Marinette? But why?” Nathaniel asked, and Lila shot him a glare.

“Because I hate her! She’s always getting in my way and ruining my plans. I’d have you all eating out of the palm of my hand if it wasn’t for her!” She said, shoulders heaving. She ripped away from Nino and Ivan and kicked the paint bucket with a shriek.

“Whoa, so all those times Marinette said you were lying…” Nino said, lowering his gaze.

“She was right,” Adrien spoke up, and all eyes turned to him. “Lila is a liar. Nothing she’s ever said is true. She just wanted to use all of you for attention.”

“So, you’ve never met Jagged Stone?” Rose deflated.

“And let me guess. You’re not really bffs with Ladybug,” Alya said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Of course I’m not friends with that stupid insect! I hope Hawkmoth takes her Miraculous and rids the world of her stupid face!” Lila shouted.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Damocles demanded as he and Mlle. Bustier approached.

“Karma,” Marinette said with a grunt.

Lila glanced between each face glaring back at her, the rage-induced fog clearing enough for her to see the damage she’d inflicted. Her eyes widened, and her shoulders shrank. For the first time since she’d stepped foot in their school, Lila was exposed. Powerless. Small.

“My office. Now.” Mr. Damocles barked through gritted teeth, and Lila followed behind him quietly. She had nothing left to say. No more lies to tell.

“M, are you okay?” Alya pulled her best friend in for a tight hug. “I’m so sorry I never believed you.”

“Yeah, we should have known better. You never trip out over anyone unless there’s a reason,” Nino said, ruffling her hair.

“We’re sorry, Marinette.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“It’s fine,” Marinette said, cutting everyone off. “Really. I’m not mad at you. Lila manipulated all of you. It’s not your fault she can’t tell the truth.”

“Marinette…” Alya cooed, and all of their classmates huddled around her.

When the bell rang, they all dispersed, heading to their next class, but Marinette excused herself to the bathroom. Tikki slipped back into her purse, relieved that it was finally over and that she hadn’t been caught. Or rather, she thought she hadn’t been caught until Marinette ripped open her purse and dumped her out into her waiting hand.

“I thought kwamis weren’t supposed to meddle,” she said, quirking a brow, and Tikki shrank guiltily.

“I’m sorry, Marinette! I just knew she was up to no good, and I couldn’t let her frame you,” she said, pressing her paws together.

“Putting the test answers back and moving the necklace are like you, but exploding milk cartons and mannequin ghosts?” Marinette cocked a hip. “Plagg, I know you helped too.”

A sinister chortle echoed above them as Plagg floated down beside Tikki. “I couldn’t let sugar cube have all the fun.”

“We’re really sorry,” Tikki said, lowering her head.

She braced for her punishment, but instead, Marinette lifted the two of them to her lips and planted a soft kiss on each of their heads. “Thanks, you two.”

“You mean you’re not mad?”

“Nah, Lila deserved it,” she said with a shrug.

“I’ll accept my reward in the form of one of those tasty cheese danishes your dad makes,” Plagg said, puffing his chest out, and Marinette scratched under his chin with a giggle.

“You can have all the cheese danishes you want,” she said. “It’s nice to know you two have my back.”

“Of course,” Plagg said, draping an arm over Tikki’s shoulders. “If someone wants to mess with the Bug, they’re gonna have to go through us.”

“We’ll always make sure you’re safe,” Tikki added, and Marinette held out a pink with a smile.

“Bien Joué!”

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK IV | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic. Cover by @timey-wimey-lovi​!

PART 4! Read Part 3 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Let Me Know - Clear Eyes.

Friends - Ed Sheeran.

Perfect Places - Lorde.

Word Count: 4,551.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Junior Year.

Tisch School of the Arts, 

New York University.

New York City. 

“We’re going out tonight,” Claire said, plopping down on your bed. 

“Oh? We are?” You replied, a notebook in your lap, and your back resting against the pillows.

“Yes. There is a welcome back party on campus tonight and we’re going.”

“I don’t feel like partying,” you sighed. “We just moved back in. There’s still so much left to do, to unpack.”

“Guess what? It’ll be here when we get back. And we’ll have all of tomorrow to decorate. But right now, we’re juniors, we’re thriving, and we’re gonna party!” She did a little dance, her red hair bouncing on her head. 

You giggled, “Fine. Only until midnight! Then, we’re coming right back.”

“Geez, grandma? Midnight? Make it one!”

“Fine, one-thirty.”

“I’ll take it,” she smiled. She hopped out of bed, and turned on her heels, finger guns pointing at you. “Wear that red tube top. Step all the way out, kid. I mean it!”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

You wore the top. It looked good. Abnormally good. Insanely good. It hugged your body, and accented your breasts, little ruffles handing on the hem. You paired it with a loose pair of jeans, leather boots, and sparkly jewelry. Your hair was pulled out of your face and you applied light makeup. 

“Yes, ma’am!” Claire cheered when she saw you. “For someone who didn’t wanna party, you sure snapped.” 

“Hush,” you blushed. “I just wanna be prepared, y’know, in case we take pictures or run into people.”

Person. Singular. 

You anticipated a high chance of seeing Matthew tonight, and if it was true, it would be your first time seeing each other in person in two months. After week upon week of late night phone calls — full of dirty words, quiet moans, and soft goodnight wishes. With his timezone being three hours behind yours, the two of you set alarms on your phone to talk in the early hours of the morning. Until you fell into this routine of talking every night. First, helping each other get off — sometimes more than once. And then having a sleepy, giggle-filled conversation about anything under the sun. It regularly lasted until one of you fell asleep.

So, yeah. You were eager to see him. Even more eager to get back to his place. Get back underneath him. It’d been a week since you last spoke, both of you being too busy moving back to New York. You ached for him dearly. And you wanted his first reaction to seeing you again to be lustful, intense. The outfit was perfect.

Claire and you walked across campus, arm in arm, skin glowing under the lights, hair blowing in the breeze. The music was palpable, and you could hear it from miles away. The two of you stepped into the dorming building, giggling at the sight of familiar faces, the smell of alcohol and weed, the sound of bass. 

For most of the night it was easy to mingle. You carried a solo cup of alcohol from each room — vodka. Everytime you drank rum, you got horny. It was weird. You couldn’t turn a corner without bumping into someone you knew, be it a dancer, an actor, film student. Being a double major, and active on campus, you knew way too many people. And everyone seemed to be there that night. It took you a good hour to rotate amongst groups. 

“[y/n]?”

You turned around, a smile instantly appearing on your face. “Alex! Oh, my goodness! How are you?”

The dashing boy smiled at you, his hand on your shoulder. “Hey! I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I’m currently trying to have a good time despite being tired as hell.”

He laughed, “Well, I see you’ve got some good time juice there, so you’re halfway to freedom. Hey, I forgot to tell you — your performance in the nutcracker last Christmas was incredible. I, uh, I actually went to the spring ballet after that because I was so impressed.”

“Thank you,” you grinned. “I like to inspire people to experience ballet. It’s cool.”

“I was very inspired,” he nodded. “Hopefully we’ll have some more classes together this semester.” 

“Yeah! If not, you know how to reach me.” You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling too wide. He gave you a quick wink, and walked away. 

You instantly began looking for Claire, rushing around the dorm for anyone resembling your friend. You noticed her in the threshold of a room, shoulder leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. You walked up to her, “Claire! Claire, you’re not gonna believe who I just ran into. It was definitely not the reunion I was expecting tonight.” 

Claire was dazed, staring in front of her with a face solid as stone. You very rarely saw her like this, and it freaked you out right away. “Claire? Claire, dude, what’s wrong?” You turned your head to follow her gaze, and your eyes landed on the couch. 

People lined the cushions, and dead in the center was Matthew. His hair had grown out a lot, and he dressed differently. All button down shirts and khaki shorts. With that damn chain tucked in his collar. And beside him was a girl. Hair jet black, a matching black mini dress, paired with sandals. They were kissing. Hot. Heavy. His hand gripping her hair, the other on his thigh. When they seperated, she touched his lips and you felt yourself having a stroke. The giggled at each other and Matthew kissed her cheek. 

“It’s about one-thirty, right?” Claire asked you, her sight not moving. 

You gulped. There was an ache in your chest that made it hard to speak. But you took a deep breath, and release the words, “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Claire walked around you, heading towards the exit, and you followed. The two of you walked home, silent, arms over each other’s shoulders. In the room, Claire dropped her stuff to the floor,  kicked her shoes off and sat on her bed. You rushed into the space, approached your nightstand and rummaged through it. 

“What are you doing, [y/n]?”

“I’m packing a bowl,” you replied, grabbing your herbs, a lighter and the bowl. 

“Right now? In here?” She gasped.

“Is that okay?”

She sighed, “Yeah. Come share.”

The two of you sat on her bed, thirty minutes later, laying against the wall with your heads staring at the ceiling. Your eyelids were lowered, red, and your breathing was slow. 

“I’m hungry,” Claire said, texting on her phone. “Do we have gummy bears? I want gummy bears. But haribo gummy bears. Not those knocks off we used to buy. And some soda. Soda would be so good right now. My mouth is so dry.”

You stayed quiet, eyes focused on the lights overhead. You couldn’t get the image out of your mind. Matthew. And that girl. Kissing. Touching. 

“Her name is Veronica,” Claire said. 

You turned your hear to her, “Huh?”

“Her name is Veronica,” she repeated. “Or Roni for short.” She rolled her eyes. “She, uh, she’s from Vegas. She went to school with...Gube, actually. They dated.”

“Oh...” you nodded. “Are you...are you okay?”

“I — I, yeah, I’m fine,” she shrugged. “It’s just...really inconvenient of him to go back to her right now.”

“Back to her?”

“They’re together. They’re dating. Apparently they got back together this summer.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows together, a thousand thoughts running through your mind at once. “What do you think about that?” Claire asked. 

“Uh...” You shrugged. “I’m surprised anyone actually touches that boy,” you laughed, the sound coming out broken and sad. 

“Yeah...well...Misty says Roni is a big one for Gube. That, um, necklace he wears? She gave it to him years ago. He never took it off.” 

You nodded, “Yeah,” your voice cracked. “Well, that’s...that’s some heavy fixation there.” 

“[y/n]...”

“I should shower. I’m gonna shower.” You went to get off the bed, but Claire grabbed your wrist. You turned to her, and she pushed your hair out of your face. 

“I’m really upset about this, kid,” she said. “Can you...can you just lay with me for a bit?” 

You sighed, gave her a small smile and leaned in to hug her. She held you close, placing one hand on your head and the other on your rest. And she let you rest your head on her chest, as you let silent tears roll down your cheeks. 

Monday morning, you got up at 5 in the morning. You spent 2 hours in the ballet studio, twirling and dancing until your feet went numb. When you returned home, Claire was still asleep and you took a quick shower. You tried on ten different outfits, applied makeup, spent a long time on your hair. You made breakfast, checked for any assignments, surfed social media. And still had an hour before class. 

You chose to walk around campus, locate all your classes, grab some coffee, and then you headed to your first class. Walking through the building, you sipped on your drink, moving absentmindedly roaming the halls. Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled you into a storage closet. Your scream was cut short, and you jumped as the door closed behind you.

You looked up at see Matthew staring at you, a soft smile on his face. “Hey.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered, turning to exit the room. But Matthew put his hand on the door knob to stop you.

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded. “Um, do I see you at the party —“

“Yep,” you nodded, not making eye contact with him. 

“So...then, you saw me at the party with—“

“Yep.”

“Okay...[y/n]...”

“I really have to go to class, so, thanks for the detour, but I’m leaving now.” You removed his hand from the knob and left the closet, not looking back. 

You walked into your classroom, swallowing to get rid of the weird feeling in your throat. You set your bag down and took a seat. You attempted to shake Matthew out of your mind, the smell of him, the sight of him, the tension of being so close to him. But it was hard. It may have been the hardest thing ever. 

“Well, well, well,” a voice called to you. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

You looked up to see Alex, giving you a toothy grin and a look of pure joy. “Alex,” you breathed. “Hi. This is awesome, you’re in here?”

“Yeah,” he took a seat beside you. “Haven’t seen you much since freshman year. This is nice.”

“It sure is.”

So. 

Remember number eight on your list of atrocities against Matthew Gubler? 

Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project. 

Alex would be the friend. He was gorgeous and kind and so good in bed. You first met in a cinematography class freshman year, where he very boldly asked if you wanted to hang out some time. You smiled, said yes, and that led to the aforementioned sexual encounter. It only happened a handful of times, until the semester was over. Then you didn’t see each other as often.

But he was here now. He was here and he was flirting with you. You were flirting back. You were hurt and upset and confused and so fucking horny, you could burst. So, after classes, you reached out to him and asked if he could help you with a pre class assignment. He told you to come over. You did. 

You didn’t work on the assignment though. 

Starting off pretty hot and heavy, it was a few weeks of meaningless sex until he asked you out. Claire cheered when she heard the news, causing you to give her a confused look. “Why are you so happy that I have a date?” You giggled. 

“Oh...I just — Alex is cute! He’s great, I always wondered what happened to him. You said he was good in the sack and he was always sweet to you. I’m just, so glad you’re happy.”

You gave her a faux smile, “Yeah. I’m happy.” 

Alex’s friend was having a birthday party at his apartment, and Alex insisted you come. Said it was the only way he’d be able to have any fun when everyone got too drunk. You agreed, and when he picked you up that night, you were dressed in a purple romper and diamond earrings. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “You look beautiful, too.” 

He held your hand as he drove to the apartment, as you got out the car, walked up the stairs, entered the living space. He introduced you to everyone you met, his arm around you proudly and your head nuzzled into his chest. 

Watching you across the room was a very irritated Matthew Gubler, who sat with Veronica on his lap and a beer in his hand. You didn’t notice Matthew’s presence for a long time, considering the fact that he was avoiding you, and you were more focused on Alex. 

While talking to Alex’s friends, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You strolled down the hallway, searching for the restroom. 

“[y/n]!”

You turned around, confused. Matthew marched up to you, his hands in his pocket, his face determined. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you told him, and continued to walk. 

He followed you. “So, you dating Alex now?”

“That’s not really your business, now is it?”

He grabbed onto your arm and pulled your body into his, hiding you two behind a corner. “No, but it bugs me.”

“It bugs you?”

“It bugs me. I don’t want you with Alex. Alex is a dick.” 

“Well, not to me—“

Matthew leaned down and kissed you, his hands tightened on your waist. He kissed you like he was starving, mouth open, breath heavy. 

You pushed him away, your eyes closed in shock and ecstasy. No, no, you thought. “Matthew—“

“Let’s leave,” he interjected.

“Huh?”

“Let’s leave. Me and you. Let’s go.”

“No,” you snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because, I’m here with Alex! And you’re here with...her, so, no. I’m staying here, with the guy I came with.”

“C’mon—“

“Matthew, no! No! Are you deaf? Are you dumb? Leave me alone, and go back to your girlfriend.” You suddenly didn’t have to pee anymore, so you returned to Alex and his group of friends. Matthew watched as you took a seat in Alex’s lap, and you pretended not to notice. 

There was radio silence for months. Matthew even removed you on snapchat, and for your sanity, you ignored it. You continued a casual relationship with Alex, and he continued to worship the ground you walked on. A vast change in pace from Matthew. Claire pushed for the Alex relationship hardcore, saying hi to him when came over, giving you guys time alone, tagging alone with you two to parties. 

But every once in a while, you thought about Matthew. When you saw a particular movie, or heard one of his favorite bands, right after you would have sex. And especially on Halloween. Over the summer, he told you all about his costume plans, party plans, and movie marathons he was going to have. And for some reason, like a clown, you just assumed you’d be with him when it happened.

By the time final exams were over, you and Alex considered yourselves exclusive. You strolled into the end of the year party, holding hands and laughing. You’d fallen into a good groove with his friends. They all liked you, you liked them, and you enjoyed their company. While sitting with them, one pulled out a joint, lit it and began to pass it around.

“Want a hit?” Alex asked.

“She’s pretty tiny. Can she handle it?” A friend said. 

You glared at her and took the paper between your lips, inhaling and holding a large amount of smoke. She watched in amazement as you exhaled through your nose, “Well...I stand corrected, princess.”

You took in a sharp breath of air.

And that was just the beginning of the spiral. 

You stayed in rotation of the weed for a long time, until your thoughts were nothing but a mess of words racing everywhere. Your eyes felt heavy, so did your body. And you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You were wondering was there ever really a connection or were you just highly sexually compatible? Did Matthew ever have feelings for you or did he just want one thing? Why does kissing him and fucking him and just talking to him feel so different? How come when everything falls apart, you want Matthew? How come when everything is going well, you want Matthew? Need to talk to Matthew. Where’s Matthew? Where’s Matthew? 

“[y/n]!” Alex called. “You’re high as fuck,” he laughed. “What are you thinking about?”

Matthew. 

“Come here,” and he pulled you into a kiss. And when you pulled away, feeling nothing, nothing at all, you realized you needed Matthew. You needed to feel something. But Matthew wasn’t here. And you wish he was here. Where’s Matthew? 

Tears were springing to your eyes, but you quickly began to cough, distracting yourself with a new sensation. You rose to your feet, and exited the room, much to Alex’s disapproval. He watched you rush past him, his face laced with confusion.

Everyone you passed by looked like Matthew. Why did everyone look like Matthew? You missed Matthew. And this was unfair. You wiped at the tears in your eyes, but they were already gliding down your cheeks. They burned your skin and it made you cry more. You were blinded. And way too high to notice Matthew - the real Matthew - entering the hallway. 

His eyes were redder than red, a lot like yours. His movements were slow. But something told him to reach out for you. Like a magnet. And you fell into his arms. It took him a whole second to realize it was you, but he did. 

“[y/n]?” he whispered. “Oh, my God, [y/n]. What’s wrong? What happened?” His hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs wiping the tears on your cheek. 

“[y/n]!” Oh, no. Alex. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” 

At that point, you looked up at Matthew. Focused in on him. Said his name. But his attention had turned to Alex. And he was pissed. You could tell. 

“Wait, wait, Matthew, wait,” you pleaded. 

“What the hell did you do to her?” He shouted, holding you close. 

“Wait, Matthew, he didn’t—“

“Gube, let her go, dude!.” Alex snapped, reaching for your arm. 

And that sent Matthew through the roof. He released you from his arms and moved towards Alex, delivering a swift punch to his face. You’d never seen Matthew so much as cuss someone out, so this. This. This was hard to register. Nonetheless, you screamed his name, attempting to push both of them away from the brawl. But it was useless. 

Two guys had to step in and separate Alex and Matthew, pulling them to opposing sides of the hallway. And you had to decide who to follow. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

You kept a good 100 feet behind Matthew the whole time, watching him stomp his way to his residence hall. You knew exactly how to get into the building, but weren’t sure you should. You’d never seen him so angry. So red. So primal. 

But, Matthew. 

Oh, God, Matthew. What would you say? What would you do? Did he want to see you? Did he want to be alone? Was his roommate there? You paced for 20 minutes, freezing your ass off outside the dormitory. Your mind was made up when you found the side entrance and let yourself in, marching up the steps. Now or never. Now or never. And you needed to see Matthew now. 

You perched yourself in front of his door, paused, and proceeded to knock with full force. “Be home, be home, be home,” you whispered. 

He was home.

He came to the door, shirtless, his face bruised, his hair tasseled, and that stupid, ridiculous gold chain around his neck. And you’d never wanted to suck a dick so badly in your entire life. You instantly imagined grabbing him, kissing him, pulling him close. But you didn’t do that. You stood there, looking like an idiot, until he spoke. 

“What are you doing here, [y/n]?”

You hadn’t even thought about it. It just felt right to follow him. “I—I wanted...I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He shrugged, “I’m alright.” His face was stern. Stoic. No emotion showed on his features and it made you sick.

“Oh,” you said. “Okay.” 

You stared at each other for a long time. You just wanted him to say it. Ask you to stay. Ask you to come in. To admit it. But he wouldn’t. So you had to walk away. 

“Okay,” you nodded, sadly, and ducked your head as you headed towards the exit. “Okay.” You sniffled, patting at your eyes as they watered. 

Matthew watched you go. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. “[y/n],” he called. 

You’d stopped in your tracks.

“You...you were pretty stoned at the party,” he told you. “Are you sober?” 

You turned your body to face him. You thought about his eyes. How red they were. How slow he moved. How you had both been utterly and totally high as hell. “I’m sober,” you said. Honestly. After all of tonight’s events, and the sheer shock of seeing Matthew, being so close to him again, you had sobered up. “Believe me, I’m sober. Are you?”

Matthew licked him lips, nodding as he sighed. He stepped out into the hallway, and pushed the door to his dorm open. He signaled for you to enter. 

You gave him a quick and sad smile, and you avoided eye contact with him as you stepped into the empty room. He led the way to his private room, and let you in, closing the door behind you. You kept your back to him, arms crossed over your chest. 

He sighed, “I’m—Veronica and I broke up. Actually, she broke up with me...again. So, y’know, it wasn’t much of a surprise, but—“

“Matthew,” you cut him off, turning to him. “I need a favor.”

He hesitated, then his voice was strong, “Anything.”

“I leave for home next week for Christmas break. And since, I can’t seem to figure out what the hell about you is driving me insane, Matthew Gubler, I’m going to need time. Space. If you need time and space. So, you need to make that decision.”

“Okay.”

“But right now, take your clothes off,” you ordered. 

“Okay.”

He stared at you lustfully, just like you wanted, his body moving on autopilot to remove his shorts and boxers. You mirrored his movements, and took off your dress, subsequently tossing your bra and panties onto the floor. He grabbed onto your body and kissed you, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your waist. He pushed you back onto his bed, falling on top of you and kissing your neck. You held onto his torso as he made way to your collarbone, nibbling on it lightly. He pulled away and gropped your breasts, massaging them with his fingers. 

He was practically drooling over them, his eyes focused solely on your boobs. He leaned down and sucked on your nipple, while his hand slid down between your legs. He felt around your core, and slowly slid two fingers into you. You threw your head back, and moaned. 

Matthew kissed a trail from your breast to your hips. He began to kiss your inner thighs, kneeling down in front of you and pulling you up to his face. He pressed his tongue against  your clit, working his muscle in an up and down motion. You moved your hips against his face and his fingers, gasping weakly. You forgot how good his mouth felt, but this was huge, huge reminder. You gripped onto his hair and swore under your breath. 

He noticed your thighs tightening around his face, and increased his intensity and speed. Your back arched off of the mattress, you whimpered into your mouth, and your chest was heaving. You let out a long groan as you came on his face, your entire body tensing up. He withdrew his fingers from you, and licked up from your core to your navel to your breasts. He kissed your neck, then your lips. And he sucked his fingers clean, holding eye contact with you.

Overwhelmed, you pulled him in by his face and kissed him passionately. He grunted against your lips, rubbing his cock on your core. He pushed into you, his jaw dropping and his forehead against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and this encouraged him to thrust into you. Matthew held you in his arms, moaning into your ear as he moved his hips. 

You kissed his jaw, sucking on the skin until you felt it pulse between your lips. You could feel his muscles moving under your palms, and his cock striking a sensitive spot inside of you. It felt like you were crumbling, getting weaker by the second. But when you felt the chain hitting your chin, you wired back to life. You gripped onto the necklace and twisted it around your fingers, angrily biting your lip. 

As he slammed into you, you muttered a soft “fuck!” and yanked on the chain. It popped off of his neck, and it was cathartic. You moaned and threw it to a far corner of the room. You reached down and rubbed your clit quickly, panting as Matthew’s body began to tremble. He kept his gaze focused on you as you let him fuck you into another orgasm, and your hips rolled against his in an eager rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck!” Matthew exclaimed, pulling out of you just in time. He released himself onto your stomach, moaning and gasping for air. 

The mattress creaked as he laid down beside you, collapsing with a thud. The two of you stared at the ceiling, naked and breathy and covered in sweat. You rested your hand on Matthew’s chest, and he intertwined your fingers. 

The next week, you were headed to the train station to get home for Christmas. Not knowing what to say to each, Matthew and you hadn’t talked since last week. You sat in the back of an uber, your suitcase at your side, when your phone vibrated in your lap. You picked it up and recognized Matthew’s name flashing on your screen. 

You sighed, swiped to answer, and held the phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“I don’t want space.”

“I—“ You stuttered. 

“I want as little space as possible.”

You were stunned, quiet, “Okay.”

The line went dead, and you set your phone down. You bit down on your lip. But the smile was still clear.

[PART 5.]

[venomandfaith]

what a year it has been! I still can’t believe it’s already ending, I mean, it still feels like April, right? I really do hope 2021 will be a better year and shine a brighter light for all of us. I can’t believe I just joined Tumblr in late March as it’s like I’ve known you all for years! I’m so glad that I’ve made many friends, posted my writings and created a platform where I can express myself without worry. I myself had a rough year, with the passings of those close to me and a friendship break up with someone I thought was my soulmate, I really thought 2020 would bring me down in the end but here I am all in one piece thankfully!

I just wanted to encapsulate how grateful I am to the people that have supported my work and kept up with my bullshit in one post. you guys have no idea what you mean to me and when I say I’m thankful, I mean it. I really wished I could do something more than just a post but for now, this will make do. thank you so much for dealing with me and my randomness!

those I hold dear to my heart:

@safari-karrot - MY DEAREST KATEYKINS, you were the first one I ever talked to on Tumblr and I remember telling you about how excited I was to finally cross paths with someone who was my age. I am so glad that you’ve been with me since day one when I felt very alone as I tried to guide my way through Tumblr as a fic writer. you and your posts make me smile and laugh and gosh YOU’RE SO FUNNY I love talking to you and I 100% would have late night conversations with you if timezones weren’t a thing. you’re very special to me and I hope you know that, okay? I may not always be there right away if you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to, but I’ll try my best. love love love you!

@pi-kai-sso - kai darl, you’re simply one of the best friends I’ve made on here. I’m so happy we started talking and I love hearing your stories you tell us in the group chat and through asks. They’re very entertaining and interesting, I’ll never get tired of anything you have to say as I learn something new about you everytime. You’re such a wonderful, talented person and I’m glad we are able to ~vibe~. Love you <3

@peaceisouranthem - sweet sweet ayden, where do I start with you? you came into my life when I needed someone the most during what I think was one of the most darkest times of my life. your reassurance, encouragement, and support throughout our friendship is something that I will always treasure. you’re such an angel and I really don’t know what I did to have someone as understanding and compassionate as you in my life. I will cherish you forever.

@satans-helper - ZARA HI I am in love with your blog and your fics and your posts are always top notch. Your fics continue to astound me and your writing is just... wow. Thank you for your tremendous support for my own writing (especially Fast Car hehehe even though that fic was lowkey a mess)! your comments in the tags always leave a big fat smile on my face :D

@edgeofgreta - megan! hi! I just think it’s really cool that we were able to bond over The Wanted, which made me feel less alone around the time of Tom’s diagnosis. also, thank you for inspiring me to start gif making! the fact that you pump out content so quickly is really admirable and I applaud you for that, especially since (I’ve heard, correct me if I’m wrong) that you’re a nurse. and with that I say thank you for your dedication and strength working in the front line in such scary times like this. your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed xx

@cantbehandled-ever - HI I think you’re really cool and funny and holy cow do I want to be closer friends with you! it’s always nice to see you on my dash and I don’t think you know this but I feel like we have a lot in common :D have a nice day, lovely!

those everyone should follow and I think are really cool:

@shes-outta-sight / @myownparadise96 / @mountainofthesunn / @ninkisixx / @peacelovekiszka / @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade / @garbagevanfleet / @motley-honey / @useyourillusion / @kissthesun / @guns-n-crue / @dufflesmckagan / @jimmypages / @oblvions / @woman-ina-dream / @illtakeitgoddammit / @jake-kardashian / @supersonic-darling / @thenewagecrisis / @sleazyizzy / @moogotron / @brianmaysclog / @annasinthewalls / @green-tinted-sixties-mind 

--

as some final words from me, I hope we can ring in the new year with hope that it’ll be better than 2020, that it’ll be the time where our biggest dreams come true and the light at the end of the tunnel finally appears. I love you guys and wish you all a happy new year <3 xx

[irene-sadler]

severe thunderstorm warning

but wait theres more

a tropical storm is rollin through town so it is absolutely disgusting outside and (mostly unrelated) i was up until 2 am yesterday/this morning b.c i decided to watch the stupid seattle mariners steelheads go into extra innings yet again (tfw ur a fan of a west coast team and u live 4 timezones away so the 10th inning takes place at 1 in the morning) 

anyway during that time i wrote a lil follow up to the executioner so nobody will hate me until uh 

the actual follow up is written which at my usual pace will be in approximately october. 

yw enjoy todays double header of hot nonsense this one’s called 

Severe Thunderstorm Warning:

     A week had passed, and even if she’d maybe made up her mind, she still hadn’t actually talked to Reynard about it.

     In her defense, nonstop days in the saddle interrupted only by an all out battle with a Nilfgaardian relief force and a followup skirmish with their baggage train guards hadn’t left much time for side conversations.  By night, the army either marched or caught a few hours of sleep when it was too dark to keep moving. She could count the number of words she’d exchanged with Reynard about something unrelated to the wounded, the condition of the bridges they used and the towns they passed, or the unpleasant but not undrinkable casks of acidic wine they’d captured on two hands. Most of them were just greetings, offered in the morning with his usual overdeveloped sense of social protocol, at night with a hint of some underlying emotion to suggest he actually meant them. It almost made her nostalgic for the days when her total forces were, more or less, a ragged collection of highwaymen with slings, a half unit of Lyrian pikemen, and a stray dog.

    On the other hand, she wouldn’t exactly be able to rush to the Aedirnian’s rescue without the trailing, dusty, exhausted mass of soldiers that snaked along the road under the baking afternoon sun, from one end of the flat horizon to the other, and she didn’t have enough men, maybe, even then. A big enough opposing force with a little more rest, a few more horses, and a following wind might be able to take them out. A private conversation was a small price to pay for an army that could probably hold its own in the field, with even odds.

    “Storm’s coming,” Gascon announced, riding in from the head of the column with a scout and a thick cloud of dust trailing him. She snapped back to the present and looked skyward.  A hawk or vulture crossed far overhead, almost too small to see. There were a few, smallish, grayish clouds drifting gently across the endless blue, and, above those, the edge of a very high, white cloud cover that might set in overnight and block the moon. She hoped she was wrong; she couldn’t march in total darkness, and the loss of four or five hours of moonlight would set them back seven or eight hours of actual travel time.

    Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Reynard glanced upward and then shrugged at her when she looked back down.

    “Uh. Metaphorically?”

    “No,” Gascon said. “Literally. It’s crossin’ the plain fast, will be in sight pretty soon. Tipper, here, thinks it’ll be a bad one.”

    “Lot of lighting in them clouds,” the scout noted, squinting. “Looks just like th’ one from last week, if you ask me; don’t like t’ be out here in th’ open when it hits, but nowhere else t’ go -”

    “How much time do we have?” she asked, interrupting the man’s lecture, which seemed to be going nowhere fast. Gascon glanced behind himself, toward a vague, pale smudge on the northeastern horizon.

    “Thirty minutes?”

    “More like ten,” the scout said.

    “Better stop the column, then,” she said, resisting the urge to swear pointlessly and waste a few irreplaceable seconds. “Gascon - ride up to the front - have ‘em spread out, stay low to the ground. Reynard -”

    “The back,” he said, immediately, wheeling his horse around. “I’m on it.”

    The supply wagons wouldn’t be able to drop out of the wind and lightning in the open field, and would have to circle around and hope for the best, but she didn’t have to tell him that. He could do his job without her. She focused on the middle, diverting riders and scouts up and down the column with orders for every junior officer and NCO they came across. The result was that, as a black cloud blocked out the blue sky and the air abruptly shifted from dead still to a gusty breeze headed toward it, the army came to a grinding halt and spread out, laying out under canvas tarps and cloaks until the plain was dotted with clustered shelters. Loose horses drifted among them groups, ears tilted back.

    It would have to do, she thought, reviewing the sprawling, messy product of her efforts. If the storm was as bad as it looked like it would be, it was all they could do. She dropped off her twitchy, unhappy horse, turned it loose to fend for itself with the others, and realized that her own cloak was somewhere with the faraway baggage.

    She squinted up at the boiling cloud overhead and frowned dubiously. The wind had died again. Thunder rumbled nonstop in the distance and crashed overhead. It didn’t look good, she had to admit, and she was lucky to have a scout who could read the signs. If she hadn’t gotten ahead of the storm by a few minutes, it would have been a disaster. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much chance of getting her cloak or even a jacket before the rain started. She’d been caught unprepared and there was nothing she could do about it.

    It could always be worse, she told herself, pointedly. She spent a minute with her cavalry commander, come up on foot to report that his units had made themselves fast as much as possible.

    “Can’t answer for the horses, though,” he said. “We had to let ‘em go, on the chance this’ll be one of them hurricanes.”

    “Hurricanes?”

    “Whirlwinds.”

    “Yes. Good idea,” she said, picturing the havoc one of those would cause. She doubted there would be one, but -

    “You just never know what might happen,” the Colonel noted.

    “No. Good luck,” she said. “Once this clears out, we’ll be back on the move.”

    Eventually, if everything went perfectly. She didn’t have to voice the thought; he knew what could go wrong. He saluted and headed off toward a distant fork of lighting from the ground to the clouds. The wind suddenly picked up again as soon as he left, gusted toward the clouds, then back in the opposite direction, bringing a strong smell of rain and a strange, greenish cloud with it. She squinted at it. It was like rain, traveled along the ground like rain, but it was the wrong color. By the time she realized that it was a cloud of blowing grass and dust it was too late to duck before the mess hit her right in the eyes. She turned away from the wind, got caught up in the stinging hail that instantly followed it, and stumbled directly into something solid. Whatever it was caught hold of her by the shoulders before she could push off of it; she squinted at it and recognized Reynard in time to keep herself from decking him. He said something that the thunder drowned out. She shook her head.

    “Come on,” he shouted, into her ear. She let him drag her onto the ground, under the dirty gold cape he held over their heads. It was just about big enough to cover both of them, if they huddled close together. Another few inches and she would be sitting in his lap. It wasn’t like she was entering unprecedented territory; she told herself to not think too hard about it.

    “Where’s your cloak?” he asked. She shrugged.

    “Somewhere in the baggage train. Where’d you come from?”

    “There. I had time to grab mine,” he said, paused, for a deafening crash of thunder, seemed to be out of things to say afterward. The hail stopped banging off the cloth over their heads. A waterfall of rain followed it.

    “What a mess,” she said.

    “It’ll clear up soon.”

    He was maybe three inches away from her. She was extremely aware that the last time she was this close to him she had been in his bed. He glanced away, like the same thought had crossed his mind. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t much else for him to look at; he was back to watching her, a little warily, a second or two afterward. She had plenty of things she could talk about, and one or two she should talk about, but the words just weren’t coming to her.

    If she kissed him, nobody would know about it, she noted to herself, instead of trying to find any. It would be easy; he was literally right there, watching her with a slightly too intense look in his eye. She had told him she was thinking their relationship, whatever it was, over, but she had always known what she was going to do. She just hadn’t had the time or the place. or the words to tell him. This was not any of those things. It was damp, because the cape was leaking slightly, and a little awkward, and she could barely hear herself think over the rain and thunder. Nothing about the situation was convenient for an extremely personal and delicate conversation.

    “I had a weird chat with Gascon, the other night,” she said, instead. He looked vaguely confused, like he had expected something else.

    “What about?”

 ——        

    It was two in the morning, probably, and they were still marching under the light of a dwindling half-moon. She was pretending she wasn’t tired and sore. Everyone else seemed to be half-asleep on their feet, at best.

    “Good morning, Meve,” Gascon said brightly, riding up next to her and interrupting her wandering mind. “You’re looking pensive and thoughtful. What gives?”

    “Huh?”

    “I mean, lately, you’ve been mostly surly and unapproachable. Which, don’t get me wrong, is a good look on you, but this one’s a little less terrifying.”

    She frowned at him and decided there was no particularly good response to the comment.

    “You want an apple? I stole some from th’ orchard we passed earlier.”

    He held one out, with the same encouraging smile he used when he offered his dog a bone. She squinted at the offering. It was definitely a crabapple, and definitely not really ripe. Her stomach growled anyway.

    “Yes, all right.”

    She caught it in midair; he waited for her to eat half of it before he asked, casually, “So. What are you thinking about?”

    She shrugged vaguely. When she wasn’t thinking about Villem or coming up with a dozen schemes and contingency plans for the next day, week, month, she was mostly thinking about Reynard. By unspoken consent, they had carefully avoided being alone together at any point in the last couple of days. The distance hadn’t made her feel any better. The only good thing about the situation was she was pretty sure nobody had noticed anything different.

     He rolled his eyes at her.

    “Silent treatment, is it? Been taking notes from Reynard lately?”        

    Nobody except Gascon, apparently. She raised an eyebrow at him, warningly. He blithely ignored it.

    “Or maybe you already had that little strategy down. You have known each other for a long time, after all. How long’s it been?”

    She cleared dust out of her throat. The question seemed harmless. She didn’t see any reason to not answer it.

    “Uh. Eighteen years. Maybe more.”

    “That long, huh?”

    He had a curious gleam in his eye. She eyed him cautiously.

    “What was he like back then?”

    She thought about it for a minute.

    “Well, I was - nineteen? So he was, what, maybe twenty-two? He was - I don’t know - about like he is now, only younger.”

    She had met Reynard at the same time as all her new husband’s other knights. She hadn’t really noticed anything particularly interesting about him specifically, at the time, if she was honest. He was young, barely said anything because he was so stiff with nerves and propriety, and had a patchy mustache he was trying to grow out, to make himself look older. The stiffness had largely survived the years, as a defense mechanism. The mustache, fortunately, hadn’t. She smiled a little; they had both gotten older and wiser, or, at least, less insecure. She wondered what they would be like in another twenty years.

    “You’re drifting again,” Gascon said. She snapped back to the present and eyed him.

    “What?”

    “Oh, you know; I bring up Reynard, you get this faraway look in your eyes and start staring off at nothin’. It’s a thing you’ve been doin’, lately. You should probably be more careful; people are bound t’ notice. Other people, I mean.”

    The side-eye turned to a glare; she turned her full attention on him.

    “What do you mean, exactly, Brossard? And keep your voice down, for once.”

    “Well,” he said, carefully, “I mean, I know you didn’t go dig through the stash we had in the closet, back in Rivia Castle; only two people had keys to it, far as I know - me and the quartermaster. Carver didn’t stir between midnight and dawn, like usual, and I had mine on me the whole time. Doubt you wandered off t’ look at the scenery for a couple hours, and I couldn’t help noticin’ that Reynard bunked not twenty feet away from your room -”

    “So?”

    “So, maybe, that’s where you were that night. Maybe. Don’t worry, I didn’t mention this, uh, theory of mine t’ anyone. If it’s true, far as I’m concerned, it’s your business. Well, yours and his.”

    “Then why bring it up?”

    He tilted his hat back a little, considered her suspicious face in the torchlight.

    “Because you look kind of miserable, if I’m honest. Did your chat after the Lester affair go that bad?”

    “No,” she said, looking ahead again, trying to pretend she wasn’t miserable, just tired. “No, not exactly. It’s - it’s complicated.”

    “You keep saying that,” he said. “Not everything has to be complicated, you know.”

——

    “Complications,” she said, vaguely. Reynard didn’t look any less confused.

    “What do you mean?”

    “I don’t mean anything. Listen,” she said, deciding maybe Gascon was right, just this once, in this very specific situation, “If I kissed you, right now, would it change anything between us?”

    He blinked at her.

    “No.”

    A trickle of cold water seeped through the cape and ran into her hair. She shifted forward, away from it and toward him, leaned in, and pressed her lips against his. He kissed her back, slightly uncertainly for a second or two, but when she moved closer and slid her right hand around the back of his neck his lips opened slightly and she could tell he stopped thinking about it. He was busy maintaining their ineffective shelter, but she had nothing in particular to do with her hands; she felt the pulse pounding in his throat with her left, ran her right through the short hairs on the back of his head, and let the electric feeling that crawled across her skin and the thundering in her ears drown out her thoughts until, after what felt like not much time at all, he gently pulled his head back.

    “Wind’s stopping,” he whispered. She paused, listening for the real thunder, from the storm. It still crashed overhead, but less often than it had before and mostly somewhere far off to the south; the rain had slowed from a waterfall to a minor downpour, and he was right about the wind. It had shifted direction again, to a gentler crossing breeze that smelled like the oncoming evening. She almost wished it wouldn’t, and the storm would keep going, but time passed whether she wanted it to or not. There were a lot of things she couldn’t control.

    If she was honest, given a few more minutes, she would be one of those things.

    “Damn,” she said, under her breath. “Just when things were going so well. Nothing can ever be easy.”

    “Complications,” he agreed, an ironic smile crossing his face that made her heart stop for a second. “What now?”

    “This,” she said and kissed him again for a long moment that felt like it would crash and burn if it went on. She dragged it out as much as she could, anyway, until a little voice in the back of her mind started warning that any more would result in them being discovered, or a Nilfgaardian cavalry unit would ride over the horizon while she was distracted, or someone would slip and fall on the wet grass, stab themselves on their own dagger, and trigger a day-long safety brief - or some other disaster would happen. He looked her in the eyes for the second or two more that she let herself waste, smiled slightly, like he knew what she was thinking, and then she forced herself away from him, out of the shelter of his cape and into the drizzle. A hint of blue sky was showing through the darkness on the northern horizon. The army was still battened down around them. An offended cluster of horses stood around a hundred yards away, dripping. Reynard carefully shook water off his cape and frowned disapprovingly around at the disorder.

    “About time we got going,” she agreed, reaching a hand toward him. He took it; she pulled him to his feet, smiled up at him for another strangely long second, and let him go.

    “I’m on it,” he said.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 4

Sad Boys and Fun Facts

Patton’s a sad boi but Virgil has a distraction

Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5

Three weeks had passed since Virgil had first texted Roman. In those three weeks, Virgil had learned a lot about his new friends.

First, there was Patton. God, did that man love puns. Virgil also loved puns, but he preferred reading Patton’s puns over making his own. Remus had caught Virgil blushing at his phone and made a comment about his new “friends with benefits” (Virgil had been unable to respond. He was too busy trying to hold back his giggles from one of Patton’s pun tangents). Patton also made it clear that he was the “Dad Friend” of the group. Virgil couldn’t type a single self-deprecating comment without Patton threatening to physically fight him. It was rather terrifying, really. He also made sure that everyone was taking care of themselves. Once they learned that they were in the same timezone (They hadn’t shared cities yet. Friend or no, Virgil was telling where he lived in that quickly) Patton made it his goal to check in and make sure that Virgil ate at mealtime. One last thing about Patton was his… struggle with technology. He tended to send almost everything directly to the group chat instead of private messages. Logan said that he tried to teach Patton how to do so, but the lessons never seemed to stick.

Speaking of Logan, the nerd had his own quirks. He didn’t type much, usually only responding when someone required everyone to respond. The other time that he typed was during debates. Nine days into their friendship, Virgil had mentioned saying “you too” to a cute barista and claimed that he ruined any chances with his new crush. While Patton and Roman offered words of encouragement, Logan remained silent. Virgil had assumed that Logan agreed with him but didn’t want to upset his boyfriends. As soon as their conversation ended, Virgil received a private text from Logan, requesting to debate. They argued over cognitive distortions for a whole hour before they reached a compromise. Logan had called the debate “lit” and asked if they could debate again in the future. That was another thing about Logan. Apparently, he had vocabulary cards for slang words. When he was talking out loud, he would hold the card up so the others knew what slang word he was attempting to use. When texting, he would put quotation marks around the word. It was adorable, in Virgil’s humble opinion.

Then there was Roman. Princey was known for his dramatic flair and Disney references. When he was feeling especially Extra™ , he would use “thees” and “thys” and call people peasants. He also had a love for nicknames. Patton had very few personal nicknames, with most of them being terms of endearment like “honey” and “amor.” Most of Logan’s nicknames pertained to him being a nerd, such as “pocket protector” and “Microsoft Nerd.” He seemed to have a limitless number of nicknames for Virgil, with most of them referencing his emo-aesthetic (how Princey had discovered that so early in their friendship, Virgil had no clue). He never repeated Virgil’s nicknames; the only exception was “storm cloud,” which he tended to use at least once every conversation.

Virgil had become extremely close with the trio over these three weeks. That wasn’t the only thing he did, just the thing he did most often. The Dark Sides had finalized their contract with Thomas, who set up a tour almost immediately. Virgil really should have seen that coming. Their band had become extremely popular over the past few years, and they had only done one tour before this. Performing across the country would help boost their popularity even further. Virgil sighed, his anxiety spiking at just the thought of seeing all those faces in the crowd. That was why he used the persona Anxiety. Anxiety wasn’t afraid of anything, he was fear. Being Anxiety allowed Virgil to be confident and suave without worrying about judgment. They judged Anxiety, not Virgil. The case was similar for Janus and Remus. Deceit was elegant and mysterious, while Duke was loud and over-the-top. They didn’t have to be rejects wanting to fit in with society. No, they were Rockstars. Society wanted to fit in with them. And Virgil was just fine with that.

Bzzz

Vigil glanced over at his phone. He was in Los Angelas right now, around halfway through his tour, which put him 3 hours behind his new friends. He glanced over at his clock, 9:45 PM glaring at him through the dark. He turned back to his phone. Why are they up at 12:45 in the morning? I know Logan keeps them on a rigid sleep schedule.

P- (9:45 PM) Ro? Are you still up?

V- (9:45 PM) Pat, why are you still up?

P- (9:45 PM) Why are you still up, kiddo? It’s almost 1 AM! Don’t you have a hangout with your friends today?

Virgil sighed, thinking of the concert he had tomorrow. He glanced over to his sketchbook. Patton had been really impressed with his sketches, so he had been practicing less gory drawings to show him. It had evolved into something almost therapeutic. Knowing how he worked, Virgil would probably sketch until around 2 in the morning, then sleep until 8 AM. The concert wasn’t until 7 PM, so he had enough time to sleep in if necessary.

V- (9:46 PM) First of all, you know I’m in California right now. It’s 9:46 for me. Second of all, we’re not hanging out until tomorrow night, so I can sleep in if needed. Third of all, you’re avoiding the question: What are you and Roman doing up at 1 in the morning? I thought you guys had work in the morning.

P- (9:47 PM) We do. Roman got a burst of inspiration at around 10, and he usually refuses to sleep until he writes it all down. He probably fell asleep at his desk, that silly billy!

V- (9:47 PM) That doesn’t explain why you’re still awake. And why didn’t you get up to check on him? I thought you guys lived together.

P- (9:47 PM) We do! I just couldn’t fall asleep tonight. And the bed’s too warm to get up!

V- (9:48 PM) Well, Princey’s probably being a “sleeping beauty”

Virgil frowned at his phone. Patton hadn’t responded to his text. Sure, that wasn’t a very good pun, but it was still a pun. Patton laughed at every pun he saw, or at least followed it up with another pun. He could be asleep, but didn’t he just say that he had trouble sleeping?

V- (9:50 PM) Pat?

P- (9:50 PM) Yeah, Kiddo?

V- (9:50 PM) Are you okay?

V- (9:52 PM) Patton?

V- (9:52 PM) I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Just because you didn’t answer my pun doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you. I’m sorry that I sounded like an asshole.

P- (9:52 PM) No, Sweety. It’s fine! It’s nice to know that someone cares about you!

P- (9:53 PM) I’m just a little sad today.

V- (9:53 PM) Do you wanna talk about it?

P- (9:54 PM) I’m fine, Kiddo! This just happens sometimes. No need to worry!

Virgil sighed, thinking about how much Patton reminded him of Janus. Janus grew up neglected, and was taught to convince everyone that his life was perfect. By the time Virgil had met him, Janus was 19 and a compulsive liar. Virgil wasn’t much better, having just gotten kicked out of the foster system. Virgil lived with Janus (and soon Remus) until The Dark Sides had enough income for Virgil to live on his own (technically Janus had more than enough money for that- his parents were loaded. But Virgil wanted to have something that he earned. He wasn’t just some charity case). When they first lived together, Virgil could never tell what Janus was actually thinking. It took a lot of time and trust to separate Janus from Deceit. Now, he was still heavily sarcastic, and he tended to close himself off when he got upset, but Janus had come a long way.

Virgil looked back to his phone. Patton didn’t seem to have it as bad as Janus did, but you could never tell. At least he acknowledged that he wasn’t okay. There is the chance that something really is bothering him, but Virgil had to trust Patton on that note. It is entirely possible that Patton is just feeling down today; God knows how many times Virgil would question why he should get out of bed. He bit his lip. What helps me when I feel sad for no reason? He smiled, remembering when Remus would spout the most obscene things to distract himself from his own negative thinking. A distraction.

V- (9:56 PM) Did you know that giraffes can clean their ears with their own tongues?

P- (9:56 PM) What?

V- (9:56 PM) “Rhythm” is the longest word in the English language that doesn’t have a vowel.

V- (9:56 PM) Elephants are the only mammals that cannot jump.

P- (9:57 PM) More like Elecan’t!

V- (9:57 PM) Haha :)

V- (9:57 PM) Without food coloring, Coca Cola would be green.

V- (9:57 PM) A 3-year-old boy was elected as mayor in Dorset, Minnesota

P- (9:58 PM) No way!

V- (9:58 PM) Yes way! His name was James Tufts.

V- (9:58 PM) 7 different dogs have been elected as mayors in the US.

P- (9:58 PM) I love dogs! They’re such good boys!

Virgil smiled, adding Loves Dogs to his mental list of Quirky things I like about Patton Morale. They continued to talk about dog mayors for a while until Patton ended it abruptly.

P- (10:14 PM) Why are you doing this?

V- (10:14 PM) Doing what?

P- (10:15 PM) Why are you going out of your way to try and cheer me up? You should’ve stopped talking to me 20 minutes ago. Instead, we’re laying here at 1 AM talking about dog mayors! I would have been fine on my own. Why are you wasting your time on me?

V- (10:16 PM) Pat, if you tell me that I’m wasting my time talking to you, I’m going to have to physically fight you. You are my FRIEND. I care about you. When you’re sad, I WANT to cheer you up. When you’re happy, I WANT to laugh along to your punny jokes. Because I know, at the end of the day, if I was sad and needed someone to cheer me up, you would do it in a heartbeat. You, Lo, and Princey are amazing people, and my time spent with you will NEVER be a waste. I swear.

Virgil sighed, dropping his phone on the bed. He might’ve been too forward with that last text. But it was true. While the four of them weren’t nearly as close as Virgil was with Janus and Remus, he still cared about them a lot.

P- (10:18 PM) Thanks, Virgil. That really means a lot to me

P- (10:18 PM) I’m gonna try and get some sleep now

V- (10:18 PM) Alright Patton, Goodnight

P- (10:18 PM) Goodnight

The next day, Virgil saw a postcard in the window of a gift shop. It had a puppy with sunglasses on the beach, with cartoonish letters saying “Having A WonderFUR Time!” He took a picture and sent it to Princey.

V- (1:08 PM) What’s your address or PO? I wanna send this to Patton.

R- (1:09 PM) Say no more, Hot Topic!

V- (1:09 PM) Aw, you think I’m hot.

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus

[bang-to-the-tan]

Lullaby

Oneshot

Reader x Min Yoongi

► Soulmate!AU

Comfort

Warnings: None

Words: 2K

↳ Summary: He can’t sleep when you’re awake, crying over the things you aren’t.

why hello readers yes i am hyperfixating away from my problems why do you ask

@teawithkpop​ and I had a discussion concerning vaguely psychic BTS that in one eight-hour work shift turned into a full soulmate AU in my head. I made myself cry writing this. (psst, this song goes really well with it, especially once he gets on the balcony)

Please enjoy, and don’t forget to love yourself.

You’re crying again. 

The sensation of tightness in his chest, head pounding—this feeling so like drowning sinks claws into Yoongi’s dreams, coiling about his neck until he can’t breathe and suddenly he’s staring at the muted darkness of his room, watching his mind carve whirling shapes into the shadows. His mind reels with phantom pain, heartache that isn’t his, a tight throat and burdened soul that don’t belong to him. He feels sick. 

Except, and this is always the weirdest part, that he doesn’t. 

Instead, he blinks, eyes heavy, and fumbles for his phone, arm made of granite. The screen is too bright in this darkness, and it takes a moment of blinking, squinting, frowning, before the symbols spearing their way through his retinas make any kind of sense. 2:37 AM. 

Holding his hand out in this position is something of a task and its job done, he allows his arm to drop limply to the covers, his head following suit with a short breath of exasperation. It isn’t your fault. He never blames you. He knows you don’t know about the day he’s going to have to have tomorrow. The promotions he’s been getting ready for, the difficult and involved choreography he’s learning. 

And even him knowing his own schedule doesn’t mean he’ll be going back to sleep anytime soon. Not like this, not with you rending yourself in two in his head. So, he gifts himself one more moment of stubborn sprawling, playing like he’s still sleeping to a dark and empty room. 

You’re crying harder now. He can feel it, that wracking, all-encompassing sense of the world crumbling underneath your feet. The fear of falling, the desperate clawing for any kind of hold on a surface that dissolves in your fingers. This time, the twinge of his heart is his own, twisted with pity and longing. Always longing. 

Mindlessly determined now, he kicks his legs out from under his covers and crawls off the bed one limb at a time, swaying to and fro. The lights in the hallway are too bright to be turning on at this hour, so he navigates by the glow of various electrical devices in his apartment, ambling his zombie-like way to the kitchen. 

2 in the morning is a little early for you. Or possibly late. He doesn’t really know—despite that week or so where he’d managed to convince himself that he’d pinned your timezone down. He flicks the kettle on, fumbling for a mug through the cabinets, some tea, still musing absently, half-asleep, on you. 

He thought he was dying when it first happened. 

Halfway asleep one late night, just before he drifted off on top of his covers, phone in hand. His chest suddenly swelled with such immense joy that he actually cried. After the initial shock, the fear of actually, finally, going clinically insane, he elected to ignore it. Told no one, hoped if he just forgot it happened, then nothing would have to come of it. A few days later, he nearly jumped through his ceiling with a sudden flash of anger, red-hot, searing its way through his lungs like righteous fire, first thing in the morning. The warlike shout that had forced its way out of him tore his voice asunder and made recording that day incredibly difficult and awkward to explain. You really have a penchant for experiencing extreme emotion around his bedtime. He’s already made the mental note to berate you for it, once you finally meet. 

Once he finally meets his soulmate. 

The doctors had reassured him that it was actually shockingly normal for celebrities to unintentionally ‘awaken’ their soulmates before either was aware they existed. It’s just a numbers game, they’d said. If you’re plastered across screens and billboards all around the world, eventually, one of the millions who pass by it is going to be yours. And having seen him, somewhere, sometime, you’d been bound to him. Emotional telepathy. The first step in ‘total soul connection’, or whatever it was they’d called it. Anytime you felt anything strong, anytime you experienced something important, it bled through to him, in the form of unchecked, unbridled feeling. 

Jimin had helped him in trying to narrow the timeframe, chasing this frantic energy that possessed him in the beginning. This manic desperation to find you, culminating in long fingers dug into his hair so hard he could have pulled his brain through the strands, eyes squeezed so tightly shut it hurt, curled into a ball at his dining room table and fighting back the urge to cry until he died from it. He’d spent three days tracking his group’s popularity from when he’d first felt you, and ended up with nothing but a sour taste in his mouth and a sick feeling in his stomach at the impossible unfairness of it all.

Yoongi nearly falls asleep on the counter waiting for the water to boil, jumping violently at the click of the tab coming back up. He pours it into the mug, smacking his lips absently, running a sluggish hand through his bangs to try and shift them out his already limited vision. The room fills with the thick sound of water, the smell of fresh tea. He takes a minute to appreciate how nice it smells, whole body stilling, eyes closing, concentrating. A beat passes. 

He opens them, tiredly, sniffing once and reaching for the mug. It’s warming against his palm, radiating heat down his hand, his arm. There’s a soft, nearly threadbare blanket draped over the back of the sofa that he collects as he shuffles towards the balcony. He pauses to force his feet into the slippers by the door before he slides it open, deciding he could just as well fix them once he’s sitting down. They flop stubbornly against his toes as he walks, situated just barely off from fitting right. 

It’s a gorgeous night. Morning. Whatever. The temperature is mild, the air feels almost warm, and the breeze that passes through is gentle. It threads careful hands through his hair, kisses his cheeks, bringing with it the dusky scent of night.

He slides the door shut behind him, shutting him off from the apartment and completely baring him to the view of Seoul’s cityline in the distance. Lights glittering across the river like stardust, casting heretical flares into the velvet above. Buildings rising from the horizon like shadowy hands, reaching out to grasp the heavens in their palms. And all of it reflected in the water, an imperfect mirror of black glass throwing the sleepless eyes of the city back in its face. 

The company had assured him it was perfectly normal to want to find his soulmate, especially now that you’d awoken to him. But it just wouldn’t be feasible. Not now. Not with how things are. He told himself that he would’ve quit on the spot, but he’s far too practical for that kind of thoughtless drama. And if you were really his soulmate, he knew you’d understand. 

Instead, he scanned every set of eyes he could in every crowd. Played leapfrog through social media sometimes, when the longing in his chest was especially loud. He had no idea if he’d seen you already. Sometimes, especially when he felt ugly things, he wondered if you were there with him. If you waited for him like he waited for you, chasing ghosts and always doubtful whether you were even going in the right direction.

He’d attempted to be casual about writing a song for you, but it took very few words slinking out between numb, awkward lips before Namjoon immediately saw straight through him. Good ol’ Rational Namjoon smiled that soft smile of his and told him with that soft voice of his that Yoongi would send all the world into a panic, writing a song like that. He’d end up with enough “soulmates” to populate a small country. And beside, it wasn’t something he could do without passing it underneath the company’s scrutiny and catching flack for trying to sneak. So for now, it seemed, he’d just have to sit here and miss someone he’d never met.

The next pang that screams through him shakes him the worst of all, to his core, and it comes close to taking him out at the knees as he moves to sit on the chair he set up out on the balcony when he moved in. He physically winces at the sensation, grip tightening on his mug, other hand digging blunt, anxiously chewed fingernails into the wicker of the chair’s arm. Hate. It’s hate that you’re feeling now. Yoongi knows it too well, it bleeds into his own emotions, muddles the line between you.

The excitement you’d clouded his senses with last week made him grin for an entire day, your heart beating inside his ribs like a caged bird.

The fear from a month ago sent him into a panic, had him packing a suitcase before he’d given pause to the fact that he doesn’t even know where you are. (Hoseok talked him down from that one; popular theory was that you’d been thrillseeking. Watching a horror movie or riding a rollercoaster. Yoongi wasn’t entirely convinced until you ‘checked back in’ a little later with a deeply satisfied feeling of content. He’d breathed a sigh of relief that felt like the first time he’d tasted oxygen in all his life.)

But this emotion has a texture to it that feels all too familiar against Yoongi’s teeth, coiled around his throat. Self-hate. You aren’t just crying, you’re losing a battle against yourself. And not for the first time he wishes more than anything that you could be here. With him. Where you belong. Where he could take you into his arms and promise you that you are so much stronger than your shadow. Where he could take up a light of his own and help you chase that darkness away, as best he could, at your side. Where he belongs.

He blinks up at the sky, as if he could watch your thoughts chasing his in the night. He takes the blanket, wrapping it studiously around his legs, tucking it into the sides, bundling up until he’s warm and comfortable and safe. He takes the mug in his hand, sips gingerly at the tea that’s still just a little too hot to drink steadily. 

Yoongi looks out over the river, watches it ripple and sparkle, counts the airplanes, satellites, crawling across the domed sky. He notices how beautiful it is. How warm he feels. Secure. 

He has no idea if he’s seen you yet. He doesn’t know if you can feel him. 

He closes his eyes. He focuses on how he feels content. Safe, and happy. Tea on his lips, you on his mind, hope in the palm of his hand. The world with his voice perched on its tongue, waiting for a new day to share with him.  

He has no idea how long he sits there. 

You calm slowly, painfully, clawing first by force into exhaustion. Your emotions, bleeding and ragged and so, so tired, but triumphant for one more night, trail slivers and snippets through his mind as you begin to fade from his grasp. 

You leave him alone on his balcony, set against a backdrop of manmade stars. His tea has gone cold in his mug now. 

He sends you one last reach, one last sliver of soft comfort, one last shared moment of pride in your strength, before he gives up. He yawns, decadently wide, and shifts upwards to head back inside, the blanket dogging his steps like he were a weary king with a crown of lead. 

[lina-exe]

reunion [ml]

Pairing: Mark Lee x Fem!reader

Words: 1.2K

Warnings: none(?)

A/N: oKAY SO this is my first NCT member fic and I was honestly scared because I’m still relatively new to NCT but I really love Mark and I just wanted to cook something up for him. He’s just a sweet boy and I really just got soft while writing this so please enjoy!

There were very few people in your life that you considered your best friends. One of them you had met in middle school, she was probably your closest friend to date. Another you met in high school and kept in touch quite often despite him being at another university across the country. And then there was Mark Lee. Your childhood friend, as in your parents were friends therefore you were also friends. Mark was the definition of “the boy next door”. He literally lived next door to you and frequently came over to play. Your parents loved and adored Mark, and his parents treated you the same.

Things changed when he and his family moved to their home country of South Korea. It was right before high school, and you were devastated. You couldn’t go to prom together, get your driver’s licenses together, or graduate together. You tried to keep in contact but with the timezone differences, it became so difficult that you lost contact altogether.

Your high school experience was okay, but there wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t think of Mark. There were little moments and jokes that you knew he would enjoy, everyday events that you wished he could experience too. You wondered what he was up to for that first year, but soon you became preoccupied with other things. Truthfully, you would forget about Mark unless someone brought him up in conversation. You felt guilty because you were so close to him, yet he found a way to escape your mind so easily. You figured maybe he forgot about you too.

It wasn’t until your third year in university that a major change in your life happened once again.

It was a Wednesday evening and you were relaxing in your apartment with your best friend/roommate when she burst into your room waving her cell phone in the air while screaming.

“Oh my goodness, Sihyeon, what are you yelling about?” you took off your headphones.

“It’s Mark!” she waved her phone in your face. You shoved her phone away before sitting up to figure out what she was talking about.

“What’s Mark? Mark who?” you asked.

“You can’t be serious,” Sihyeon put her hands on her hips, “Mark. Lee. Your best friend! The one born 3 days before me! The dork who was always rapping about anything and everything!”

Suddenly the room in the air felt very thin and your heart started hammering in your chest. You hadn’t seen Mark in years. Were you ready to see him again after all this time, even if it was only through a video or photo on Sihyeon’s phone screen?

“What about him?” you asked quietly.

“He’s...like famous,” Sihyeon showed you a video of Mark on a stage performing somewhere with several other guys. The crowd was going wild and Mark had the biggest smile on his face. He looked so different. Well of course he did, puberty did him well, he looked marvelous and way less dorky than he used to.

“He’s in a group called NCT,” Sihyeon continued, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“He’s a Kpop idol. I don’t know what NCT stands for though, but it looks like this specific sub-group is NCT127,” Sihyeon answered.

“So he left to become famous?” you asked.

“Don’t you remember in 2010 when he missed like a few days of school for some family issues?” Sihyeon asked. You nodded and Sihyeon sighed.

“Well, he was really auditioning to join an entertainment company. He said he didn’t wanna tell you because he knew you had dreams of attending high school together and he didn’t wanna shatter your dreams just yet. So, he didn’t leave to become famous per se. We all knew Mark had a huge thing for music. He just moved to pursue his dream because he got accepted. He ended up becoming famous because of his talent,” Sihyeon explained. You didn’t answer for a while, which made Sihyeon think you were angry, so she spoke up.

“Please don’t be angry,” she pleaded.

“I’m not angry, I’m just...surprised...that he didn’t tell me,” you blinked.

“He didn’t wanna hurt you,” Sihyeon gave you a half-smile.

“I guess that makes sense,” you sighed.

“Well, I reached out to him,” Sihyeon shifted the subject a bit.

“You what?!” you exclaimed.

“He actually answered and remembered me! He’s the same Mark, he’s just grown up like the rest of us--”

“What did you say to him?” you asked frantically.

“I asked if we could meet up soon! He’s on tour and he’s coming back here, so I figured we could catch up one day,” Sihyeon told you.

“And????” you asked.

“He said yeah,” Sihyeon said, a bit spooked.

“So it’s just you and Mark?”

“No, I asked if I could bring you and he said of course. Actually he gave us tickets to his show and asked if we could come so I said yes--”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m gonna see him again, after all this time. What am I supposed to say?” you asked.

“Just treat him like he never left. Talk, I dunno. It’s in two weeks so you have time to prepare. Good luck,” Sihyeon said, and then she left.

                                         »»————-　　————-««

In those two weeks, you mentally prepared yourself to see your best friend both on and off stage. The show was spectacular and seeing Mark on stage was an experience you’d never forget. You were in awe of his talent, you knew he could rap, but you didn’t realize how well he could rap, sing and dance. You had to remind yourself that Mark probably trained for all of this.

The day after the show was the day you were to meet him. You almost bailed out of fear, but Sihyeon forced you to come with her since Mark clearly wanted to see you.

When you arrived at the cafe, Mark was already there. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest but you managed to calm yourself down before you approached his table.

Sihyeon was the first to greet him, “Mark, hey!”

Mark looked back at the two of you with a big smile and stood up to embrace Sihyeon. He turned to you with a shy smile and you returned the gesture, the two of you awkwardly standing there. In the corner of the cafe, his friends from the group watched him interact with you and were silently groaning at what a dork he was. Sihyeon was also internally slapping you for just standing there.

Finally, your body took on a mind of its own and you threw your arms around Mark and buried your face in his shoulder. Mark was surprised, to say the least, but wrapped his arms back around you, remembering your scent and how nice it was. Memories of you from before he left swarmed his mind, causing his heart to thump faster in his chest. He didn’t realize how much he missed you until he was hugging you again.

“I missed you,” you whispered. You willed yourself not to cry, though it barely worked. Mark held you tighter and nodded.

“I missed you too.”

[btsbaereacts]

Namjoon Soulmate AU: Dreams

Namjoon Soulmate AU: The man you’ve been dreaming of is the kindest person you’ve ever met. When you realize who he is, you start to lose hope that you’ll ever meet him.

. Master List . Synopsis Page . Jin . Yoongi . Jungkook . J-Hope . Taehyung . Jimin .

Soulmate Link: Dreams

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Honestly, this was a weird one for me to write. Not that I don’t love it, I just struggled with getting it going I think. I’m in grad school, and I have a ton to do today, but I really wanted to get this out to you. LMK if you want a part 2, because I feel like it’s really unfinished....

*not my gif*

The night of your 17th birthday, you were too excited to fall asleep. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate. Finally, at 2am you managed to fall asleep. 

Soon enough, you woke up. Instantly disapointed that nothing had happened in your sleep, you started getting ready for school. 

“Here’s your breakfast,” you mom said pushing a bowl of oatmeal towards you. You mumbled a ‘thank you’ before digging in. “How did you sleep?” 

You knew what she meant. On your 17th birthday, you and your soulmate were officially linked. You would be able to talk to them in your dreams, and as you got closer to meeting them, the connection would grow stronger and stronger. Eventually, you would be able to see them, then finally be able to touch them. “Nothing happened,” you didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t believe it.

“Oh, honey,” your mom touched your shoulder softly, “this happens sometimes.” 

She explained that in cases where you were older than your soulmate, that you wouldn’t be able to hear them until they also turned 17. She also mentioned that your soulmate needed to be asleep too for the link to work. 

The first 6 months after you turned 17 were extremely disapointing. You still hadn’t heard your soulmate, and it was miserable. Not only did you feel bad for yourself, but all of your friends and teachers had also heard. 

~~ 

“Hello?” You heard someone ask softly.

���Yes? Yes! Wait can you hear me?” You walked around the dream, praying it was real.

“Yeah, hi. Are you my soulmate?” The voice asked. It sounded hopeful and calm.

“I guess so,” you smiled to yourself, knowing they wouldn’t be able to see you.

“Wow, did you just turn 17 then? I’ve been waiting for so long.” 

“No,” you replied, a bit confused, “I’m nearly 18 now.”

“Oh,” the voice mumbled, “why couldn’t I hear your before?” 

“I’m not sure…” 

After a few months of occasionally being able to talk to your soulmate, you had figured out that it was not a connection problem, but a timezone problem. You weren’t close enough to them yet to be able to talk about yourselves personally, but you had guessed that they must live somewhere where your sleeping and theirs almost never matched. You had begun napping more often just to talk to them.

~~

You were nearly 23 years old, and you could clearly hear your soulmate's voice. His voice, and especially his laugh, made you smile as soon as you heard him in each dream. As time went on, you started to be able to make out an outline of him. 

The first day you saw him, and really saw him, you were shocked at how handsome he was. He was tall, with light hair, and dimples that you couldn’t stop looking at. Instantly though, you knew you had seen him before. Maybe he just looked familiar, but deep down, you knew him. 

“Lila,” you asked your younger sister, “what’s that band you’re always listening to? The Korean one?”

“Oh, BTS!” She smiled.

“Do you have pictures of them?” 

“Obviously, let me show you,” she said, pulling out her phone and scrolling through what looked like hundreds of pictures of the boys. You gasped, seeing his face again. 

“Lila, you’re like my best friend. And I don’t want you to freak out, but I have to tell someone.”

“What, Y/N, you’re scaring me?” You knew you shouldn’t tell her, but she was only 3 years younger than you and basically your favorite person in the world.

“He’s my soulmate. I finally saw him last night.” You pointed at Namjoon.

“Namjoon is your soulmate? WHAT!” She tackled you. “Oh my god, this is so cool, I’m so excited!”

“I don’t think it’s going to work out.” You said. 

“Y/N, don’t think like that. Does he want it to work? Talk to him, I’m sure you guys will be able to figure it out.”

~~ 

“Y/N,” Namjoon called to you.

“Hi,” you smiled. You wanted to bring this up with him, but you didn’t know how. “I know who you are.”

“Oh, you figured it out,” he said, bringing his hand to the back of his neck.

“My younger sister is obsessed with you guys, and I knew I recognized you.” 

“And you?” He looked at you hopefully.

“I’ve only really listened to your music when I’m with her honestly.” You mentally facepalmed, thinking you should have at least listened to 1 of his songs.

“Oh yeah,” he laughed awkwardly, “that’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

 “So, I don’t know how this is going to work.” You didn’t want to sound so pessimistic, but honestly, he was a superstar.

“If we can see each other, it means we’re closer to meeting. Don’t give up yet; not before we get to meet.” You couldn’t bear to look at him, but you could hear the sadness in his voice. 

“How can we meet? We live so far apart.”

“We’re going on a world tour in a few weeks, come to a show?”

“I didn’t get tickets.”

“I can get you tickets.” He reassured you. You felt yourself stir, and quickly said goodbye before waking up.

~~

Waking up one morning, you received an email. Inside, were two tickets to the BTS concert. You and Namjoon were finally able to exchange contact information in your dreams. It definitely meant that you would end up going to his concert and meeting him. 

The day of the concert came quickly, and you and Lila were ready. You had picked out your outfits, your hairstyles, makeup, and you had rehearsed meeting Namjoon in person in your head hundreds of times. He had explained in a dream that you would go to the fanmeet after the concert to meet him. He told you to go last in line, so that you could have more time to talk to him. He wasn’t the first in the group to find his soulmate, but he was the only one who had a foreign soulmate. The other boys could just find their soulmates in Korea without creating all of these plans to meet. 

~~

The concert was amazing. You knew it would be, but you couldn’t help but marvel at all of the talent. Namjoon was especially talented, you thought. The way he smiled and laughed at the other boys while they ran around the stage made you smile. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about you in the audience. You knew that he was busy, so there was no way. The boys were clearly joking about something, but without knowing any Korean, you didn’t think anything of it.

“Sorry ARMY, Namjoon is afraid to look at the left side of the stage,” Jungkook laughed into his microphone. 

Instantly everyone began screaming, asking him why. “Oh haha,” Namjoon laughed awkwardly. “I have a friend watching.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “That’s you,” Lila shoved against you. You couldn’t look at the stage. You didn’t want this to be the first time you really saw each other. 

After the concert, you dragged Lila to the back of the fanmeet line. She whined a little bit about having to wait so long, but she understood. After over an hour of waiting, you could start to see the boys. Your heart sped up. There he was, looking as perfect as ever.

“Hi, I’m Lila!” She nearly yelled at V and Jungkook, the first boys at the table. They smiled, quickly autographing her album, sighing that you were the last ones in line. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You didn’t have a copy of their album to sign, so you just sort of awkwardly nodded at them.

“Oh. OH.” V’s eyes went wide looking at you. “Namjoon!” 

Namjoon slowly looked over from the album he was signing to see you standing at the end of the table. You saw his face light up, and you couldn’t help but blush. The other boys hurried the last of the fans out of the room, and before you could say anything, Namjoon was running around the table and throwing himself into you. 

“Aw, I got a picture!” Lila squealed in the background.

“Wow, you’re so beautiful.” Namjoon said, looking deep into your eyes. 

“I can’t believe this,” you whispered to him. You were afraid to let go of his hands, like he might walk away and never come back. 

“Let me introduce you,” he said, pulling you towards the other boys. Lila had clearly already found a new group of friends in them as they talked animatedly. “This is Y/N, my soulmate.” Namjoon said with the biggest smile on his face. 

~~

After the world tour was finished, you couldn’t wait to be able to have more time to Facetime your boyfriend. You still lived at home, while he would be going back to Korea. You hadn’t talked much about the future, but you knew it needed to come up eventually. 

“Y/N, I miss you so much.” He breathed into the phone. You could hear how exhausted he was, but knew that he couldn’t go a day without talking to you, even just for 5 minutes. 

“I miss you, too. You know, now that the tour is ending, we should probably figure out what we’re going to do.” 

“Yeah, do you want to come to Korea? I know you can’t just move here, but just for a vacation? We can talk in person and figure it out. I can get you and Lila airfare.” He mentioned. You loved how understanding he was. You didn’t not want to be with him, but you knew that picking up and moving to Korea was a huge change. You didn’t speak any Korean, you wouldn’t be able to get a job there, and you didn’t know anyone else. 

“Yeah, that would be fun. Obviously, Lila will be excited.” You laughed. You hoped that you could figure everything out in person once you landed.

Tag list (open): @mizz-kraziii @cmxo03 @kaepjjang365

[staylovehearts]

Enough?

Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count ~3.9 k

Summary: You never wanted Felix to find out that the fans he loves so much can be so cruel.

Tags: angst, hate comments, self-doubts, Felix is an idol in this one, and you’re like his not so secret girlfriend, the company is chill but the fans aren’t, mentions of other stray kids members

It's a simple routine. As you unlock your phone you immediately swipe away about twenty different notifications from different social media accounts without even looking at them. You are not even sure why you even still bother with an Instagram and all of that. Maybe you should just go private again. Or delete everything. But that would feel like defeat. Like giving up. So instead you just try to not look at the mean words people are spouting at you on the daily. When it first started you still tried to report every single comment. Blocked every person who insulted you. But once the comments became too many to count you gave up on that as well.

But it's fine. Ignore them all. Swipe it away. Don't look at it. Focus on the nice comments. The people that spammed flame emojis under your recent Instagram selfie. The ones leaving nice comments and replies. Or at least those, that seem neutral. The ones that like to joke around or post memes. Damn, even the people that drop Loona fancams under your tweets are bearable.

But you can ignore them all for the sake of the one message that you actually want to read.

cuddly coala boy: are you going to be watching me later tonight?? i hope you're not mad that i had to cancel our skype date because of this :((

The text came at exactly 4:35 in the morning. Well, 4:35 in the morning in your timezone. That means for him it must have been... wait, what's the time difference again? Where even is he right now? You are too lazy to actually look up timezones right now to properly calculate the difference, but you decide to assume that it was a reasonable time. Well, at least you hope it was fairly reasonable. With the way his schedule works it's not unusual for him to send you messy texts full of typos past midnight when he is exhausted from a day of dance practice and vocal training and he just fell into bed after a quick shower and decided to send you a short text, already half asleep. It's also not rare for him to text you early in the morning. When he is on his way to his first schedule of the day. Early in the morning, but already buzzing with energy and excitement. Sometimes he'd send pictures of his breakfast and gush about the organic canteen. In summer he sent you a picture of the sunrise almost every morning. Because in summer the sun rises so early, that most people sleep through this daily spectacle of nature. But those that are woken up at five in the morning – even earlier on some days – never miss out on a sunrise. And you get to see those pictures of the sunrise in a different country, mostly after you've already missed the sunrise in your own location. Most of the pictures weren't even that special, some of them even too blurry to make out more than washed-out colours and the rough outlines of buildings. On some mornings the sky was too cloudy to show more than a lighter stripe of colour beneath a layer of grey and blue. But even on those days, Felix made it a point to show you the sunrise. And you have all of those pictures saved. Because you are just so goddamn whipped for this sunshine of a boy who sends you pictures of the actual sun every morning alongside a happy good morning text.

I'm not mad at all!! I know that work comes first, I'm sure we'll be able to make up for that skype date, have fun later, I might join when I have the time, but you know how the vlive times sometimes don't work with the timezones :/

It takes you a good fifteen minutes or so until you have finally typed up a reply that you are actually confident sending. You don't want to show that you are actually upset. You don't want to make him feel bad for having to cancel your plans. But it's probably obvious that you feel a little bitter about this. You were understanding the first few times this happened. And of course, you are still understanding. You knew that things would probably be like this. But it's becoming harder to hide your disappointment with every skype call that has to be moved to a different date. Every delayed reply. Every day that passes with just a few short messages being sent back and forth during water breaks.

But you know what you signed up for when you not only agreed on trying this long distance relationship, but trying it with an idol on top of the insane timezone difference.

Seeing the friendly kid you used to go to school with on television was already a weird experience. But finding out that he had become a K-Pop star felt like some kind of fever dream. To be completely honest you didn't even know what K-Pop was until you heard Felix – and his bandmate Chan – talk about it on national television. Your mother had called you downstairs in a frenzy to make you watch the special report. When you got there she was pointing at the screen excitedly, asking you over and over look, look, isn't this a boy you used to go to school with? Did you know that he's famous in Korea now? Isn't this crazy? You could certainly agree with her on that last question. To make a long story short, you spent pretty much the rest of that day – and most of the following week – researching every available bit of information about this K-Pop thing and the group your school friend was now part of. You listened to and downloaded their entire discography within one day. Watched every music video and memorised the member's faces within hours. And in the following days, you went through every vlive video and any other content you could find. Saying you were hooked would have been an understatement.

The thought of reaching out to Felix hadn't crossed your mind until maybe two weeks into your newly discovered obsession. It was a suggestion by a friend who you had a couple of courses together with. She had brought the idea up completely nonchalantly as if just hitting up a celebrity is a thing you do every other day. When you expressed that sentiment she just shrugged as if to say dunno, but weren't you friends with him?

Well, she wasn't really wrong about that. But she also wasn't really right. Sure, Felix and you went to school together. You had classes together for three years and you saw him pretty much every other day. But you were never super close to him. Felix was just that kind of person that everyone was on good terms with. He'd sit down at a different table at lunch every day, nerds and jocks were equally welcoming of him. Everyone likes having Felix around, but he wasn't insanely popular either. If someone would have asked about Felix the most common answer would have been something along the lines ah yeah, that guy, he's really nice, we don't really hang out outside of school though. That was just the kind of relationship almost everyone had with him, the kid you'd do group projects or share a lunch table with but not necessarily your first pick when you wanted to put together a group for karaoke that weekend. So Felix and you weren't really friends. You remember being in a group project with him once and for maybe a month or so he even was your lab partner until the seats were switched but that's pretty much it. Maybe you had a bit of a fleeting crush on him back then. Most girls had. The freckles dusting his cheeks and the big brown eyes gave him something adorable and his sunny personality matched that all too well. But back then as well you never considered acting on those feelings and years later you had almost completely forgotten about them altogether.

Tracking him down was hard, but easier than you thought it would be. Of course, the old phone number you managed to find in some inactive group chat didn't work anymore. And any social media you ever knew he had was deactivated. But somehow – through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance – you managed to get in contact with him again. And you immediately remembered what you had liked about Felix back then. Talking to him was as easy as ever. Somehow texting him didn't feel like talking to a celebrity, but just casually catching up with an old friend from school. Texting every once in a while turned into chatting almost daily. Then the phone calls started. Late-night rambling, one of you always tired from the time zone difference. The first face time call was an accident – at least that's what Felix told you – but the second wasn't. And neither was the twentieth. You've lost count at this point.

The status of your relationship with Felix has been a mystery to you for the longest time. It was clear to you that that little fleeting crush you used to have had come back at ten times the intensity and you were pretty sure that Felix must at least enjoy talking to you enough to stay up way past the time where he should go to sleep at. But even with mutual feelings, there were more than enough stones in your way. Him being a celebrity and the several hour time difference plus living in different countries are probably some of the most obvious trials.

Let's just say it worked... somehow. Is still working. Even if it's tough sometimes. You've seen Felix a total of three times since making it official and all of these were just for a couple of days at most. There's always schedules he has to attend, filming to be done. Your schedules don't match up at all, he has so little free time that you have no other choice than to arrange yourself around it. Make amends. Compromise.

That's not really the problem here. The official part of the whole making it official is actually the root of all evil. Surprisingly enough Felix's company actually allowed him to make an official statement regarding his relationship status and confirming that he was indeed seeing someone. Of course, you were never mentioned by name. But someone somewhere must have taken a picture of you and him meeting up that one time. And someone else must have somehow identified you on that picture and shared your Instagram. And twitter. And pretty much any other public social media you had at that point. All of that within an hour of the announcement being made. You never openly confirmed or denied any "rumours" - or maybe accusations is the more fitting term here – about you and Felix dating. But you didn't have to. They knew enough to hate you for "stealing" him away from them. Of course, not all of them hate you. Some are actually supportive of the relationship. Though that's definitely only because they support Felix and want to see him happy, not because anyone really cares about your hurt feelings here. Then there's also a couple of fans that just ignore the whole thing entirely. According to them, it's all just rumours and there is no way that Felix is actually seeing someone. Don't you know he's a sweet gay baby, uwu? He's actually dating [insert whoever they ship him with here]. At least these comments can be kind of entertaining to read. Sometimes. You've scrolled past entire think pieces and page-long analysis of the smallest interactions turned into super definite proof that there is more going on between those two band members behind the scenes. They are delusional, but at least they are mostly harmless.

And then there are people who just straight-up hate you. And maybe that group is not actually as big as it seems but they are loud. So goddamn loud. And they are mean. You have switched accounts, gone private, deleted and remade. Everything in a desperate attempt to hide from the comments. But they always find you somehow. There is no escape.

A new notification pops up on your phone, you try not to look at it as you delete it but you catch enough of a glimpse to get the gist of it.

You're not good enough... you don't deserve to be with him... you should just do him a favour and break up, he's probably just to nice to do it himself.

It's always the same, you've read it hundreds of times, in every possible phrasing and variation. The bad thing though, you're starting to believe that they might actually be right.

The vlive is happening around noon in your time, which is at least kind of reasonable compared to other times that you have set an alarm to watch some kind of stream or award show or anything similar. You actually don't really want to watch, at least not for your own entertainment. Watching these things for yourself has kind of stopped working after... well yeah, after all that's going on. But you know that Felix would be happy, knowing that you are watching him. So maybe you'll tune in for a bit during your lunch break. Just long enough to take a screenshot and send it to him alongside a short text telling him that you are watching the live and that you really aren't mad. You aren't mad. Just scared.

You click the notification as soon as it appears on your phone. One of the few notifications you are actually happy to receive. The app takes a moment to load and by the time the stream is actually playing it's already flooded with viewers. But the picture is not moving. Or at least the three boys in the frame aren't moving. But you notice something in the background, maybe some kind of curtain, being moved by a breeze. Still, the trio keeps up their game for another few seconds until they all break out into wide grins and start talking. Felix is sitting in the middle, wedged in between Jisung and Hyunjin. The three of them are sitting behind a table that has various playthings scattered on the polished hardwood surface. You spot a box filled with Jenga pieces, next to a card game and a rubik’s cube. You take a couple of screenshots and tap out to send one of them to Felix, of course he won't see it right now but you want to prove that you were actually watching live. When you open the stream again they are already building up the Jenga tower while joking around with each other. Even though you didn't plan to stick around you watch them play games and talk for a while. It's nice. You can almost imagine yourself sitting in a room with them, laughing, cracking jokes and enjoying yourself. You can almost imagine being this close to Felix. Both physically close enough to be in a room with him as well as close enough for him to introduce you to his friends and be allowed to hang out with the group. It's almost in your reach. Almost perfect. Almost.

Felix is messing with the rubik’s cube, trying to solve it after he has insisted for minutes that he knows how it's done, Hyunjin is stopping the time on his phone while Jisung is going through the comments. You yourself haven't dared to take a look at them yet. Even here you aren't save. Most of the time they are flying by so fast that you can't even finish reading one before the next one jumps into vision.

Where is-

can you say hi to-

omg i-

notice me ple-

Most of it is short comments like this, some are just emojis (mostly every different kind of heart there is), wild key smashing and a plethora of "i love you"s in different languages. But some stick out. Some are different. The username is the first thing you notice about that one specific comment.

felix's_girlfriend

When you first made your account you thought about claiming that name for yourself. Just as a joke. But it was already taken. And so was felix's_wife, ilovefelix, freckleslover or any other possibility you could think of. Even when you started adding numbers to the names you couldn't get them. There are at least fifteen people using some variation on Felix's girlfriend as their username. You stopped trying after that.

Jisung probably spots the comment about at the same time as you did.

"Yo, someone with the username felix's_girlfriend just asked when you will finally do a dance cover of the latest Twice song", he says. Or at least something along the lines. You practised Korean to be able to at least get the gist of what's going on when they are talking, but you can't always understand everything. But you sure do understand the way Felix's head just whips up. Like that of a puppy delighted to see its owner coming back home.

"She's watching?", he asks. This time you understand clearly. Jisung looks back at him for a moment, a mixture of shock and surprise on his face. Felix isn't supposed to talk about you. Not here.

"It's just that person's username", he answers, after a moment of silence. Felix's bright smile drops for a moment, but then he nods his head and laughs as if someone just made an amazing joke. The boys continue talking about the Twice comeback and other promotions that are currently going on as if nothing happened. Hyunjin rambles about Got7 while Jisung jokes about how Seungmin is probably really excited about Day6. But the people in the comments are not willing to let go of what happened quite as easily.

I hope that bitch just disappears someone writes. Felix should break up with her, she's not good enough. You can't pretend to not notice it any longer. And maybe the boys noticed too, at least they don't read out any other comments after that one. But you don't really stick around for that long after. You are clearly not welcome here.

The thing is, that you never wanted to drag Felix into this mess. Of course, he is already a part of it, but you didn't want to let him see all of the ugly things that they are saying about you two. Well, in the end it's mostly you they are mad at. Some fans have commented that they are mad or disappointed that Felix would date someone, but they don't say the same things about him that they say about you. And you're glad. You wouldn't wish this on anyone. Especially not Felix, who is always so bright and full of love for his fans. You know that he loves that. He's said it numerous times. And even when he doesn't say it with words, it's obvious. He says it with the way he always smiles and waves at the camera, with all that he pours into performances, with the energy and passion he gives. He loves them.

Felix has never said the l-word to you.

Your phone rings about three hours later. You are hesitant to pick up when you see his name light up on the screen, but you don't want to lead him to believe that you are mad at him or anything.

"Hey there, why are you calling? Isn't it the middle of the night where you are?" You try to make your voice sound cheerful. Like you are a little surprised that he is calling you at that time but all in all happy that he is calling you. Confused, but a pleasant kind of surprise. You're probably not all that convincing, but maybe it's enough since this is just a phone call. Not even video this time.

"Ah, I just wanted to check in on you", Felix replies. His voice sounds a little bit drowsy. A soft kind of deep rumble. Bedroom voice, but not the sexy kind. The soft I'm about to curl up and fall asleep voice. You've heard that before, fell asleep to that soft voice talking to you over the phone. For a moment you almost crack. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them away quickly.

"Oh, I'm fine, just got back home a while ago, going to make myself some food soon. How was your day, did that live go well?"

"Hmm, did you watch it?"

"Oh, just for a bit. I was... busy." Somehow you feel guilty saying it like that. Sure, you did only watch maybe about half of it. You told him in advance that you probably wouldn't watch the whole thing. But you have a feeling that there is a reason he is asking. And you are purposely avoiding it. Felix stays silent for a moment, maybe hesitant to bring it up himself. And for a moment you hope that he just won't. That you can both pretend that everything is alright and just joke around like usual. When he finally does speak his voice sounds so sad.

"There were some... not so nice comments about you. Did you see them?"

You consider lying but you don't see the point in it. He probably knows that you have seen them.

"Yeah."

"Do they often say things like that to you?"

"... yeah."

"That's... awful. I'm so sorry."

You take a deep breath. You really never wanted him to find out about how cruel the fans he loves so much can really get. Of course he knew that not everyone approved of him having a relationship and of course he's seen some of the gossip articles that the tabloids write about you. But what the fans say behind the protection of anonymity is so much worse than that.

"It's not your fault", you mutter finally. You can hear Felix take a deep breath as well.

"You don't- you don't believe what they say, do you? You know that I would never break up with you just like that. You are enough. More than I could ever ask for."

You aggressively blink your eyes a couple of times and tilt back your head. You don't want to cry. It always becomes obvious in your voice when you start crying and you really don't want to worry him any more.

"I know, but it's nice to hear. Thank you."

There's noises in the background. Some loud clatter, like dishes falling over and then several voices talking over each other. You haven't thought about it yet but Felix must be calling you from the dorm. There is the sound of a door being opened, a little noise of surprise and then it's being shut close again. Probably someone looking for Felix.

"You should probably hang up soon", you mumble. Not because you want him to, but because you know that the longer this goes on the harder it will be for you to not burst into tears.

"I guess. I'll call you again tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that very much."

"Great then... good night."

"Goodnight."

"Hey, (y/n), I love you."

"I love you too, Felix."

[silverwhiteraven]

Borne of the Stars - Chapter 9 - An MLB Kryptonian AU

Tag List:  @eve-valution @weird-pale-blonde-person @kris-pines04 @soulmate-game @abrx2002 @amayakans @vixen-uchiha @heldtogetherbysafetypins @raisuke06 @dorkus-minimus @captainartsypants @mopester-is-here @moonlightstar64 @annabellabrookes @maribat-is-lifeblood @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-navistar-carol @elspethshadow @chocolatecatstheron​ @ivymala07

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 8 ] [ Chapter 10 ]

[ Summary: Lunch was enjoyed, Félix has a message, and more talk happens as they return to school. ]

The group of students spent the remainder of their lunch period eating to their hearts’ content. Marinette and Barbara had pitched in together to make sandwich wraps, something the latter had compared to being “just like a burrito!” Everything else was bread and pastries brought up from the bakery below.

“Those were the best scones I ever had, I wish I could live here and eat them every day,” Babs lamented as they all gathered their things, preparing to return to school.

The others giggled at her antics and Marinette shrugged. “You get used to them; besides, those were only the rejects, you should try what they sell in the counter displays.”

“Rejects? Those were rejects? But they were perfect! Absolutely delicious!” 

Marinette only shrugged again with a sheepish grin. Kara chuckled, knowing the reason for the ‘rejects’. Nino, who also understood the reason, hid his laugh at the continued dramatics and answered the unspoken question.

“Yeah, dude, they’re the stuff that didn't come out quite right. Not good enough to sell, y’know? But they're still just as edible as everything else, so they bring them up here to eat with meals.”

“Anything we don't eat with lunch or keep for dinner, we donate,” Marinette finished the explanation, standing from her barstool perch at the countertop table. 

“Is that where you get the macaroons for your class?” Karen gestures to the now empty macaroon box sitting in the recycling can. The last of them had been taken by the girls, Nino content with his scones.

Marinette shook her head, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Made those ones myself from our home supplies. I stopped letting Maman and Papa give me some from the bakery once I perfected the recipes myself. Still as good as my parents’, Nino?”

The boy gave her two thumbs up and a nod with a big smile. “Can’t even tell the difference, dudette.”

“Aw, sure you can, Major!” Kara exclaims, calling Nino by one of her music-based nicknames for him. “Can't you taste it? She puts much more love into the baking she does for her friends.” 

There’s barely a beat before the group bursts into laughs and giggles at the claim, and Marinette covers her blushing embarrassment with her hands. However, she can't help but smile with a bit of appreciation and pride at the statement.

“Thank you, Kara, I’m glad you liked them. Come on guys, it’s a bit of a walk back to the lycée.” She sighs, and adds in lament, “I’m going to miss the days of walking to the collège; living right next door is a blessing I never savored.”

Nino nods in understanding, patting her back and staring at a chain of all the girls following suit in their own pats of comfort, bringing out a giggle from the now comforted girl. 

As everyone files out the door and heads down the stairs, Marinette holds the door and leaves last. “Head out the ground floor’s back door, the lunch rush is too busy to get through,” she reminds the group as they head down. Her phone chimes in her pocket as she descends the last of the steps, and she pulls the device out as she exits outside. 

“Félix?” Her brow scrunches in confusion and she frowns, pulling the attention of her friends.

“Adrien’s cousin?” Nino asks, stepping closer.

“The Luthor boy?” Babs voiced her own curiosity.

“You mean the Graham de Vanily heir?” Karen pitches in, a little more excited.

Kara breaks the chain of questioning the identity of Félix with a: “What did he say?”

“‘Something doesn't seem right about today. Be careful. And just in case, keep that reporter’s contact open. Paris may need assistance.’” Marinette read the message out loud, her confusion turning to worry.

“I've never gotten a message like this from him before. He never contacts me during school hours, either, even breaks. I wonder what’s wrong…” As she muses, she sends a simple return text: ‘Will do. And you too, Fé. Let’s hope it’s nothing.’

She doesn’t voice her reply before she puts the phone away, or the last one from Félix. 

‘We shall see.’

“That was…ominous,” Babs voices skeptically as the group resumes their walk back towards the school. 

“He can get like that sometimes, it’s nothing to worry about,” Maritnette shrugs, trying to brush the new worry off everyone’s shoulders. As the only one of them who had been around him the most so far, she was the only one at the moment who could reassure them. And as such, she didn’t voice that Félix’s hunches were usually right in some way or another. Yet she refused to worry anyone else any further, and kept the tidbit to herself.

Her efforts seem to work as the others seem to relax. All except Kara, looking pensive.

Marinette and Kara both drop to the back of their small group, a couple paces behind the other three who had struck up a new conversation about Nino’s hat and the girls’ preferences of headgear that didn't act difficult with their longer hair. 

“Rolling Penny for your thoughts?” Marinette jokes to the hero, who snorts at the play on words with their shared interest in music.

“Get me a Stone with Jagged edges and you can have your pick of thoughts for the rest of our lives.” Marinette laughs as she imagines handing over her only famous commissioner as a trade offering.

She shakes her head and chuckles, “No can do, that’s a free Stone, no keeping it like a pet rock. You'll have to settle for the Penny.”

Kara taps her chin in thought before snapping, smirking with a tease; “How ‘bout a nice crystal cluster instead? I hear Geodes are pretty and valuable.”

The teased girl snorts and shakes her head. “This crystal is already around you often enough. I’ll add in extra tarts to our next hang out, would you consider that payment enough?”

“It’ll do, for now,” was the joking return, and the two shared a laugh.

“But really, Kara, what is it? Is Félix’s text bothering you?”

A shrug, and then, “Well, yeah, I’m still a little wary around him, ya’know? His dad was still Lex Luthor, and no hero, let alone any Kryptonian, could trust that man to be as far away from us as we could throw him; and trust me, we could have thrown him far if we wanted to. And you say Félix says things like that a lot?? It sounds a lot like something similar to my original suspicions about you.”

Marinette glances back up at Kara quizzically. “What suspicion in particular?”

“Well the whole ‘Kryptonite in your body’ thing isn't exactly a common thing. Seeing Félix at the same time I saw those crystals in you? Painted a really bad picture. Lex wasn't exactly against human experimentation.”

She recalled a few of the stories both Supergirl and Alya had told her about Lex Luthor, even a few of his family getting their hands dirty in the same villainous business, and factoring in the new information, Marinette understood a bit more about how easy  it could be to have suspicions like this against people around the Luthor family. Not to mention the family itself.

“So, you think...Monsieur Luthor did something to Félix?” She was a bit alarmed at the conclusion, worry coating her words and thoughts. 

“That, or he’s just a really observant guy. But! Now it’s your turn not to worry about it!” Kara explains, her voice gaining a light cheerfulness and reassurance as she pulls Marinette against her side with one arm. “School is no time to fret over anything except making it to the last bell.”

Marinette laughs and leans into the side-hug, taking comfort in it. “Since when did you prefer school over thinking about all the potential future dangers you could be punching into the sun?”

“Since I had friends to hang out with,” was the returned quip, and an added, “And no more etiquette classes was a huge bonus, too.”

“They have etiquette in America?”

“Nope, on Krypton, it was kinda a thing for me. Kal got lucky.” The Kryptonian scoffs. “But I have a feeling I'm going to dread being at my new home because I'll be suffering through it again,” she groans, nodding out towards the school they could now see down the street.

A glaringly obvious person decked out in all yellows, white and black was standing out front.

“Chloé? What did she do this time? Is this why she was glaring at you all morning?”

“Yep,” Kara scowls, “Publicity stunt from her dad, he offered to host the cousin of world-renowned reporter Clark Kent during her stay in Paris. Lady Bourgeois over there doesn't like my ‘uncivilized, barbarian lifestyle’,” she mocked with a sarcastic one-handed air quote and an eye-roll.  

“She’s a bit of a handful, I can agree with that,” Marinette smiled sympathetically, suppressing a laugh at the inaccurate jabs. “I’ll help you out if you want, I’ve dealt with her for enough years to gain a life-long tolerance.”

“I’ve got your number; I’ll call you if I need to. Or,” came the teasing tone, “I’ll just do it anyways; I could never get tired of talking with you.” 

With a laugh and an eye-roll of her own, Marinette stepped away from the other and picked up her pace to catch up with the rest of their group. “School first, we can figure out our new phone schedule later, if we even need one now that we share a timezone.”

“Touché, lil’ Butterfly, touché,” Kara concedes, catching up only a step behind.

The Parisian girl raises a brown, “Butterfly?” 

“Beautiful, always a step ahead, and always dodging around everything.”

“Dodging?” Kara, I can't dodge anything for my life without warning first.”

The two laughed, and Kara nudged the other girl reassuringly. “Besides avoiding compliments you shouldn’t, I think you’re doing just fine on your own.”

“Well, besides those embarrassing compliments, if there's anything I shouldn't be missing, warn me, okay? I’d hate to leave anything hanging.”

Kara gave a big sideways grin, her eyes hinted with wistfulness. “Sure, Geode, I’ll do that; at least for anything that doesn't want to wait for a perfect timing first.”

“Like?”

“The fact that we’re back at school and the warning bell just rang?”

“AH!! Kara! Warn me next time!”

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, JENNA! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF BASTIEN AVALOS.

Admin Rosey: Jenna, I cannot emphasize enough how in love I am with the way that you captured Bastien. He was one of the characters that is driven singularly by passion and impulse, and he is the one character that takes a person’s heart and never lets go of it until he tires, then goes for another. From your ideas for development, to the para sample - this application holds you captive just as Bastien does. The Holy Land isn’t ready for Bastien to enter center stage, but boy, I definitely am. Thank you for this wonderful application - and please, be handle our hearts gently...before smashing them to pieces.  Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Jenna Age | 21 Personal Pronouns | she/they Activity Level | My activity really varies throughout the week! I work on weekdays ( gross, I know ), and am also completing an honours degree this year so will mostly be around on evenings and on the weekends!! My aim is usually to get on for replies every couple of days, but I generally make myself available for plotting every day! Timezone | gmt+10 Triggers | REMOVED. How did you find the group?  | in the tags! but I recognised your names from diverona and just knew I had to apply!! Current/Past RP Accounts | https://marymacd.tumblr.com/ // https://leonagw.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Bastien Avalos

What drew you to this character? | Wow, okay, where do I begin? Bastien is a very different character to the ones I usually play, and I think I was initially drawn to his recklessness. Bastien doesn’t just flirt with danger - he courts it, and I find this very fascinating as I’ve always tended to play very strategic, cautious, and calculated characters in the past, which Bastien just isn’t. I think there’s lots of potential to develop him as a character - both in the way of coming to terms with his past and exploring the events that have brought him to where he is, and in terms of his future - now that he’s had his autonomy ripped from him and burdened with a responsibility he never wanted, and one that he’s quite ill-equipped for, there’s definitely a lot of room to develop him in very interesting ways.

I’m also drawn to the idea of portraying a mortal walking among immortals - and yet, having very little regard for his own mortality. He’s spent his whole life running headfirst into danger - picking fights he knows he won’t win just for the sheer thrill of it - just to get a few battle scars and a great story at the end of it. It’s fascinating to me that, out of all the characters in this group, he’s perhaps the most vulnerable due to his status as mortal, and yet he acts as though he’s unbreakable, living life with a sort of heedlessness that is so uniquely human. He’s aware of his limited lifespan in comparison to those around him, but he’s determined to do as much as he possibly can with the time he has, to ensure that he leaves a great story behind when he goes.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |

001. SINS OF THE FATHER - Listen, the potential to explore Bastien’s relationships with his family was far too rich and complex for me to pass up putting it first. Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? Bastien killed his father - obviously, it was in defence of his mother, and I don’t necessarily think that he regrets what he did ( only that it put him into a position of power and left him responsibility he is neither equipped nor wanting to handle ), but it definitely has left an impact on him. Though not specifically mentioned in his bio - I think it’s very unlikely that Bastien has told anyone what really happened that night ( the family probably lied it away, that the former Lord Avalos was murdered by someone seeking some kind of retribution before fleeing in the night, never to be seen again ), and I think it would be very interesting to see how this guilt plays on him, and how he struggles with having to feign anger at the mystery of his father’s demise while knowing full well what really happened. Yes, Bastien may be a dumbass, but he’s not as stupid as everyone thinks, and he knows that the truth of what happened to his father coming out would be bad not only for him, but for his whole family, and he’s going to do whatever it can to keep the secret from surfacing, even if that means lying to the ones closest to him ( of course….. I, personally, would love for people to find out what happened to his father eventually, the drama of it all is too much to pass on ).

I would also love to explore how the death of his father has shaped his relationships with the rest of his family - his mother in particular. Though his sisters may have their suspicions, I also feel that they’re likely as in the dark as anyone else regarding the circumstances of their father’s death ( and, honestly, he wasn’t a particularly nice man, so none of them have any intention of digging any deeper into it ). However, Bastien’s mother knows exactly what happened, and, more importantly, why. I’d honestly love to explore the idea of her being angry with Bastien for what he did - for jeopardising the family name and putting himself in harm’s way yet again, despite it being to save her life. In my head, she cares more about Bastien’s wellbeing than her own, and thinks that what he did was a mistake that he didn’t think through ( which, to be fair, he did not ). Also, now that Bastien is Lord Avalos - how does this change their relationship? It’s a responsibility he never wanted, but one that his mother insisted he must take on after the death of his father. I think there’s the potential for a lot of resentment to build between them, which is particularly interesting ( and sad ) because I think they have always had a fairly strong relationship throughout Bastien’s youth and early adulthood.

002. ADAM & EVE - Let’s! Talk! About! Evangeline! In all seriousness, I think that the relationship between Basien and Evangeline has so, so much potential and is definitely one of the main reasons I was drawn to the character in the first place. I mean, best friends who are practically closer than family is one of my favourite tropes. I really think of Evangeline as being one of the only things that really keeps Bastien grounded - he’s reckless and foolish at the best of times, and she has the potential to be a counter to this rashness. At the same time, Bastien’s immaturity ( for lack of a better word ) can help lift Evangeline and invite some youthfulness into both of their lives. I don’t want to infer too much about their past or their current relationship, as this is obviously something I want to discuss with Evangeline’s mun, but I do want to discuss the secrets that Bastien is keeping from Evangeline. For one, their connection states that he knows the truth about what happened to Evangeline’s parents, something she herself doesn’t know, and something he’s been keeping from her ( for what he believes to be her own good - but, really, shouldn’t Evangeline get to be the judge of that? ).

But, what happens when she finds out what really happened, and that her best friend has been lying to her for so long? Again, I don’t want to assume anything as this is entirely up to Evangeline’s mun, but I do think there is the potential for some drama™ here. Bastien didn’t do what he did for bad reasons, he’s not a sinister character, and he genuinely thought he was doing the right thing - but I can definitely see a world where it doesn’t come across this way. Along the same lines, I think that if Bastien was going to tell anyone about what happened to his father, it would be Evangeline. I don’t imagine that he’s told her yet, but I can definitely see this as a possibility. I think he would be worried about how she would react, and I can really see it going either way ( again, this is all subject to the interpretation of Evangeline’s mun ), but her reaction ( especially in light of what happened to Lady Treme ) is again, something which could be very interesting to explore.

003. A SEAT AT THE TABLE - Does Bastien deserve a seat at the Round Table? Absolutely not. Will he work hard to ensure he is respected and taken seriously? Also no. Bastien and responsibility are two things that nobody would have ever previously thought to associate. Growing up, Bastien seemed to exist on the periphery of his father’s world, a reckless kid always looking for trouble and never bothering to learn from his mistakes - he was an unwelcome stain on an otherwise pristine Avalos legacy. Nobody in any position of power thought to take the former Lord Avalos’ heir seriously, and perhaps many of them prayed the father world outlive the son ( it wouldn’t have been too unreasonable an assumption to make, given the number of times Bastien would return home late at night, bloody and bruised after picking a fight with someone he shoudn’t have ). Perhaps many of them were rightfully surprised to see Bastien take his seat at the Round Table following the untimely demise of his father - perhaps they’d been expecting him to simply walk away from the responsibility, to throw in the towel and leave the Round Table without an Avalos for the first time in history.

He’d wanted to - power and responsibility weren’t well-suited to Bastien’s personality. Sure, he had a knack for military strategy, and he wasn’t a bad fighter on his own, but he never saw himself as a general, as a leader, and he certainly doesn’t see himself this way now. He’d been willing to walk away from it all, but urgent prompting from his mother forced Bastien to rethink this position and take up a seat of power that he never imagined himself holding. He’s angry, of course, that his life has been whittled down to this - that he didn’t see this coming when he’d taken his father’s life, but he’ll do it for the sake of his family. I’d love to explore Bastien’s newfound responsibilities, and how he reacts to this. There’s the potential for a great amount of resentment to form - he never wanted this life for himself, he always imagined himself surmounting to bigger and better things, and, yes, he’s angry that he has to spend his days playing politics when he could be out exploring the world and living a life worthwhile.

I do see a possibility of it all becoming too much for Bastien - of him wanting to give up and escape and start anew. I’m not really sure how this would play out, in all honesty, but I think the resentment that Bastien has towards his life and his position could be very interesting to explore. I also would love to develop Bastien’s connections with the other members of the Round Table. I don’t imagine anyone will take him very seriously, and his naivety leaves him open to manipulation and sabotage. How do the others perceive him? How will they use him? This is the aspect of Bastien that is the most vulnerable - because he has no idea what he’s doing, and I’d love to see this come back to bite him, I’d love to see someone use this to their advantage, and against Bastien’s.

004. REFLECTION OF THE PAST - Although he isn’t aware of it, Bastien’s current life isn’t his first. He’s the reincarnation of Adam - how does this affect the way that he lives? I don’t imagine that Bastien is very aware of this fact, sure, he has strange dreams from time to time, and can’t help but feel as though he’s experienced certain moments in his life beforehand, feelings so familiar that he can practically grasp them - but he never stops for long enough to think much of them. As the memories of his past life begin to come back to him more clearly, I’d really like to explore how this impacts the way that Bastien lives. Is he doomed to simply repeat the same mistakes that he made in the past, or is there room for him to forge his own destiny? I think that Bastien likes to think of himself as a free spirit - all his life, he was actively rebelling from the part that his father wished for him to play, seeking out danger and relishing in the thrill of adrenaline pumping through his veins, rather than playing politics or making power grabs or leading the military with a steady hand - I think it would come as quite a shock to him to realise that he hasn’t really been becoming his own man at all - that he was simply following in the footsteps of a past life. I think it could actually be, potentially, quite upsetting for Bastien, and trigger some serious changes and introspection on his part. Of all my plot ideas, this is probably the least fleshed out, but I really want to explore how this impacts him, as I think there’s potentially a lot of room for some serious character development on the back of him realising that he’s just a copy of someone who came before.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | I think, more so than anything else, Bastien is driven by passion. He’s certainly not the type of person to sit around and think things through before he does them - he doesn’t consider consequences or the why of his actions until later on. He chases whatever he imagines will be the most exciting use of his time, what he thinks will make the best story later on, what will make him feel the most alive. He’s not motivated to think very far beyond what is happening right in front of him, to consider how his actions might have repercussions for himself or for others later down the track. He’s motivated to follow whatever will serve him best in any given moment - whether it be pleasure, a thrill, or material gains. He flirts with danger not to test his own mortality ( okay, a little to test his own mortality ) but because he finds there to be no better feeling than that of pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. His loyalties and beliefs come second to that search for adventure, that search for the next high, the next story, the next great escapade.

Character Traits |

+ CHARISMATIC - exercising a compelling charm which inspires devotion in others. + PASSIONATE - having, showing, or caused by strong feelings or beliefs. + OPPORTUNISTIC - exploiting immediate opportunities, especially regardless of planning or principle. - RECKLESS - heedless of danger or the consequences of one’s actions; rash or impetuous. - MERCURIAL - subject to sudden or unpredictable changes of mood or mind. - IRRESPONSIBLE - not showing a proper sense of responsibility.

In-Character Para sample |

It’s raining.

This kind of weather would usually annoy Bastien ( there’s far fewer possibilities of what to do with oneself when the weather is poorly ), but, today, he’s glad for it - while the rain mixes with tears on his mother and sisters’ faces, it manages to conceal the fact that, were it not for the unfortunate weather, Bastien’s own cheeks would be perfectly dry. His eyes are not spilling a single drop, his breath does not hitch, and his limbs only tremble from the cold - his knuckles turning white as he holds an imposing charcoal umbrella over his head.

For one normally so consumed with emotion ( one to whom anger and joy come in equal, loud measures and often within the same beat ), Bastian looks almost akin to the statues he currently finds himself surrounded by - stony faced and lifeless. Normally his face can tell a story all on its own - one of joy, or triumph, adventure, or defeat - and perhaps, to the uninformed observer, his current sterility could be chalked up to grief or to shock, but, in truth, he has quashed any emotion he might feel so as to avoid the catastrophic mistake of letting something slip that he’d prefer the public weren’t privy to. His mother had warned him - you’re grieving. You’re grieving. You’re grieving.

He wasn’t grieving.

Perhaps it should be a concern, he thinks, as he gazes at his father’s headstone ( some ironic inscription about a loving husband and father stares back at him, mockingly ), that he doesn’t feel anything akin to sorrow - the emotion he’d expect most people to feel when attending their parent’s funeral. Perhaps he should be sad - after all, this is the final day of his life as he knows it, is it not? The final day where he is able to wake up and enjoy a clean slate, to have possibilities stretched out ahead of him, tantalisingly close and yet just a stone’s throw out of reach. This ceremony marks the end of his father’s reign as Lord Avalos, and tomorrow morning, the title and responsibilities that come with it will fall to him. It’s a rather unenviable situation, he’d say.

He glances sideways at his mother - she’s sobbing quietly as one of his sisters recites some old poem. He’s suddenly angry, the desire to shake her and scream washes over him - he wasn’t a good man, mother, he had no love for us, mother, he would have killed you, mother - but then he remembers how she had screamed as Bastien plunged the dagger he’d been gifted for his twenty-fifth birthday into the heart of the man who had raised him, remembers the silence that followed as they had cleaned his blood from their clothes, and the urge goes as quickly as it had came, replaced again by stony faced resolve.

It’s been raining for the past two days, and Bastien can feel himself slowly sinking into the mud underfoot.

He’s not cut out for leadership, he thinks. Sure, he has a knack for military strategy, and a keen interest in it ( this is perhaps the only thing he and his father had had in common ), but general? A seat at the Round Table? It all seemed like too much of a stretch for the man who just a few weeks ago was picking fights with men twice his size in the city square for a bit of fun, the man who had three fake teeth because the real ones had been knocked out by quicker, stronger opponents, the man who had skirted responsibility for most of his life. If he’d had time to think, he might have tried a different method to stop his father from laying a hand upon his mother ( it had been a blur, though, adrenaline taking over and the urge to protect stronger than any rationality ) - but this was the problem, wasn’t it?

Bastien didn’t think. He never did. He’d always been a doer - acting with his heart and leaving his head to deal with the consequences later on ( if he ever did deal with them - too often it seemed he simply walked away from the messes he made, leaving a trail of skeletons behind him wherever he went, hoping desperately to outrun them lest they grab hold and pull him back down to face the music ). Now, suddenly, he’s expected to take up a position of power, of responsibility - to represent not only his family ( which he’d never done a particularly good job of ), but all of mortalkind. He’d tried to run from this, too, but sometimes fate is too powerful to escape. His mother had insisted he grin and bear his new responsibilities - he’d hurt the Avalos name enough by this point, hadn’t he?

It seems almost like a cruel twist of fate - that someone who had become so used to avoiding responsibility would be suddenly weighed down by one so great. Suddenly dashed were all of Bastien’s hopes to live life as a free man - to go where he wanted, to do as he pleased. This had never been the life he’d envisioned from himself - from the moment he could dream of something beyond himself, he’d dreamt of a life beyond all of this - beyond the rigid structure his father had long tried to force him into, beyond the rules everyone around here seemed so keen to follow blindly. He’d quickly earned the reputation of reckless, foolhardy, untoward, tempestuous, and he’d secretly reveled in it. Now, he can practically feel the eyes of his father’s former associates boring into the back of his skull - waiting for him to make a mistake, to claw their own way into power.

It’s ironic, really - they’re waiting to make him a villain, yet everything he’d done until now would suggest him to already be one.

He’s become quite accustomed to feigning grief over the past few days - it wasn’t too much of a stretch, really, he’s always been a terribly gifted liar. Not always for nefarious purposes, mind you. More often than not, his lies were altruistic in nature. He’d spin elaborate tales of grandeur and chivalry out of petty fights for his sisters and classmates. He’d convince his mother that the ghastly gash above his eye would heal up just fine ( it didn’t ) and that it didn’t even hurt ( it did ). He could brush off concern or anger or disappointment with a flash of his teeth and a little white lie, he could bounce from person to person, emotion to emotion, leaving everyone he met with a slightly different impression depending on what they wanted to see. And he could keep secrets buried deep in his chest, rotting him from the inside, when he felt they might do more harm when spoken aloud.

He could lie about this, then, too. He could lie that he was ready ( and willing ) to take on this new responsibility - just as he had feigned shock at the sight of his father’s dead body. Just as he had feigned anger that no culprit had yet been found. Just as he could feign mourning around his sisters, or remorse around his mother. Just as he could feign grief - just as he is right now, the fat droplets of rain serving as decent enough replacements for genuine tears. He’d handle this - of course he would handle this, just as he had handled everything else in his life up until now - with a laugh and a grin and a great story at the end of it.

“Bastien,” It’s his mother speaking, she tugs gently at his arm. The ceremony is over. He hadn’t even noticed that people had started to file out of the cemetery. “It’s time to go.”

Extras | Pinterest / Mock blog

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my application ( again )! I love the look of this group, and I love Bastien, and I hope I get the opportunity to write with you all soon!!

[ofhoneyblood]

SECTION 1. OOC INFO

NAME / ALIAS: lydia * nary AGE: twenty-five PRONOUNS: demigirl * she & her and / or they & them TIMEZONE: central OOC FC: dita von teese

P. S. i’m super thrilled i ran across this group , it’s so incredibly original and well thought out ! i’m super glad  i made the cut , because i can’t wait to get involved in what is happening on the dash !!

SECTION 2. IC INFO

FACECLAIM: milo ventimiglia CHARACTER NAME: bryce atlas winslow GENDER AND PRONOUNS: cisman * he , him & his  AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: thirty-eight , january 29th * nineteen eighty-two   OCCUPATION: red hot pussy liquors burlesque & booze PLACE OF BIRTH: dublin , republic of ireland HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN PLEASANCE? since july of 1996 , he was twenty-four WHY DID THEY COME TO PLEASANCE? running from his past & happenstance for the most part ? something paranormal per chance ?

SECTION 3. ABOUT CHARACTER

“ have you had any strange encounters in town that you couldn’t provide a rational explanation for ? how did it make you feel ? if you haven’t had any encounters , have you heard any stories of people who have ? what do you think of these stories ? “

he irishman scoffs lightly , honey brown eyes dropping to avoid any potential eye contact for the briefest moment , “ been here o’er a decade , whadye’ think ? “ strong arms cross over a broad chest  , head lifting only to loll to the side as he regards the individual questioning him “ can’t really explain goin’ fer a walk out by the lake all on yer lones’m when suddenly ye hear a lass moanin’ an’ cryin’ in ye ear , but ye can’t see ‘er  and ye never find ‘er , now can ye ? coulda’ been that edith alby they’re always on about though , aye  ? “ eyes drop again as the dark haired man’s entire demeanour changes , clearing his throat bryce turns his attention once more to the other , “ then there’s that gideon’s friend. . . i think ye probably know about what happened in that encounter though , don’t ye ? “ he sighs lightly as the questions continue , nodding slowly , “ well , makes ye feel a bit like a mentaller , dunn’it ? can’t really get through a day without ‘earing about summit spooky happenin’ in this town. “ 

“ do you have any theories as to why you and other people have had these encounters ? can you support these theories or are they just at the top of your head ? “

his brow furrows as he considers the question asked , never having put too much thought into the strange rumors and happenings that only occurred in pleasance as far as he was concerned. he gives a light nonchalant shrug of his shoulders , “ i’m guessin’ summit paranormal might be goin’ on in pleasance er maybe i’m just a few brassers short of a whore house. “ bryce arches an eyebrow  , turning the second half of their question over in his head for a few moments, “ not sure i know what yer gettin’ at exactly , but i suppose it’s just all off the top o’ me head then. haven’t got any proof to support any of my blarney theories , if that’s what yer askin’. “   

why did you come to pleasance ? do you have any plans of leaving ?

bryce heaves a sigh as the next question is thrown at him , there was little the irishman disliked more than having to explain to others how or why he wound up in pleasance all those years ago. the big man drops into the thin , rickety wooden chair and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling , “ made a right hames of me life back in dublin. me da’ was a feckin’ holy joe arsehole , so i legged it right the ‘ell outta’ there to the land o’dreams. what else ? “ he sat up straight , leaning forward to rest elbows on knees , “ to be honest witch’ye , can’t even tell ye how i ended up in pleasance anymore , probably just looking for a kip to crash in for the night but instead i grew roots. it’s a mystery why i decided to stay , but i just found a decent enough gaff an’ never really had any reason to leave. “ 

what is your favorite spot in town ? 

a smile actually graced the man’s face for the first time since the conversation started though , if you asked bryce , it was more of an interrogation. the smile proving just how handsome he was and providing if just a hint of the true warmth he held within. the bouncer stands to his full six feet , golden brown eyes roaming his small kitchen for his forgotten now warm beer , “ there’s a few places i frequent , fer keeps is a great shop an’ red hot pussy liquors is always a massive time. “ he moves to retrieve his newly found beer , but continues to speak , “ if we’re not talkin’ establishments , i’d hafta’ say northwood lake seein’ as i enjoy a good , quiet walk by moonlight on occasion even if that poor dead lass does lurk about. “  an easy shrug as the irishman takes a swig from the beer bottle now in hand.

what do you think of lourdes mason ? 

a roll of the eyes is the man’s immediate reaction , “ when’re ya’ll gonna’ give that geebag a rest ? no one’s chiseller can go on survivin’ in a feckin’ tree ! plus , it’s been such a holy show for donkey’s years , so why hasn’t anyone ever gone lookin’ in’te the shite ? “ it was his turn to pose questions , leaning back into the kitchen counter as he arched an inquisitorial eyebrow in the other’s direction , “ can’t think much’a someone ye’ve never met or seen , can ye ? as fer the gossip , just a bunch’a small town blather if ye ask me.“ 

if you could be any fictional character from a movie , tv show , book , etc. who would it be and why ?

the man chuckled as he finished off his warm beer and tossed it into the glass bin for recycling , “ i’ve actually been compared to a feckin’  animated rabbit before if ye can believe that er not , some bigwig er summit. “ the more inebriated bryce became the more noticeable his accent was and it was slowly creeping up on him. this question was probably the hardest for him to answer yet , but only for the fact he’d never truly given it any thought. a few quiet moments pass as he moves across the room to his almost comically small fridge  , pulling the door open and hunching slightly to peer inside only to find it void of anymore beer. with an unhappy huff he shuts the refrigerator door and turns back to face the other , “ i guess if i had teh choose it’d be that cute hoor , whas’s name ? gambit , believe it is... bit of a skiver really , but he can definitely put the heart crossways in ye. not too bad lookin’ either , aye ? “      

lastly , what is your greatest fear ? is it irrational ? did it come from experience ? why do you fear it ?

the last question had the irishman nearly ready to go into complete shut down mode and ask the nosy individual to leave his home , but he was able to steel himself after a brief moment of jaw clenching. bryce cleared his throat to fill the now awkward silence , shoving big hands into his jean pockets and dropping honied hues to the old linoleum floor , “ me greatest fear is just... teh past catchin’ up t’me. rejection might be another , if ye count that kind of thing. “ a light scoff as he was berated by more of the personal questions , talk about adding insult to injury  , “  oi , what do ye think ? o’course it’s irrational and o’course it comes from experience , whadye mean ? “ his brow furrows as he shakes his head as if in denial of something before , almost as if in defeat , he goes completely still and admits maybe for the first time “ i don’t think i can bear t’face it. “      

[cxlvins]

...000. INTRODUCTION.

helloooo lovelies ! my name is naomi (he/him), i’m twenty-two and from the gmt timezone ! i’m super excited for this to open because i’ve got so much muse right now. i’m down for any and all plots, seriously, i love plotting ! this is calvin, he’s an angry mess of a character, but he’s fun to play, so ! if you just wanna get to know the character, you can skip past the other sections and just focus on personality, i’ve also put some wanted connections in there too ! if you would like to plot, then either shoot me a message here or on discord (heterosexual? how vintage!#8600) or alternatively, like this post and i will message you !

caution: alcohol, drugs, mental health, death.

°☼ ◜ xavier serrano, cismale, he/him ◞ ∗ ∘ good to see you again, calvin marx. you're twenty-three now, right ? i heard you’ve been streaming professionally on twitch  … crazy how time flies. you were always known as the crimson. i’m glad to see you’re just as gregarious as always — and volatile, too .. kidding ! bella used to always mention it …you were her bad influence, after all. don’t worry, we’ll find her soon. what matter is that we’re together now, right ? not really.  + thrift-store clothing, bruised knuckles, a scent of cologne & cigarettes.  + watermelon sugar by harry styles.

...001. BRIEF HISTORY.

calvin grew up very underprivileged for the first 11 years of his life in brooklyn, ny.

his father died when he was 5 years old to a drug overdose, leading his mother became a single mother to him and his younger sister, essentially meaning that calvin had to grow up and be the ‘man of the house’ without having a choice.

because of her new single-mother status, calvins mother had to work 3 different jobs in order for the family to pay rent (a cleaner in mornings, a store assistant in the day and a bartender in the evenings), which meant she was rarely home and left calvin to raise both himself and younger sister.

from a very early age, it was apparent that calvin suffered from anger issues, dyslexia and adhd, constantly getting into fights at every opportunity, his complete inability to focus and never managing to make it through a week at school without a phone call home.

these issues remained untreated, due to his mother putting it down to the ‘boys will be boys’ ideology, and concluding that calvin was just an energetic one at that.

because of this, calvin fell into the wrong crowd pretty quickly and settled into his mindset that he was never going to achieve all that much anyway, because no matter how hard he tried, he could never score well on any test at school.

at the age of 9, calvins mother met, fell in love with and soon married a former client for whom she cleaned for.  calvins new step father was incredibly wealthy, due to being a successful franchisee and also being very largely into stock trading.

calvin, his sister and mother were all moved to his home in wilmington, which calvin struggled to adjust to, as he missed his friends back north.

he quickly made friends with the clique as he was brought into it by jordan and it did put some ease on his pressure, but part of him always felt like he should still be back in brooklyn.

now having access to as much money as he want led him down an early path into experimenting with drugs and alcohol, which soon became a bad habit.

although he wanted to drop out of school, his new step-father would not allow it, which became a large source of conflict for the family over the course of the next few years.

failing to graduate high school at age eighteen, calvin couldn’t deal with living with his family any more and left the house to move into a small apartment, 30 minutes away, with a roommate (possibly a member of the clique).

calvins only real passions were for gaming and sport, and as he smoked and did way too many drugs to make it in any sporting profession, he turned his attention to twitch streaming. he began this pretty soon and built up a solid fanbase (which he wanted to call the marxists, but in calvins words, apparently some dead man already claimed that title). 

...002. PERSONALITY.

calvin is a naturally angry person who can lose his cool and go from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds, he rarely gives off signs that he is getting angry until he boils over, so people tend to watch what they say around him.

calvin is self-serving, his feelings will always come before those around him. although he is getting better at managing this, if something will result in calvin gaining something at the expense of somebody else, he will most likely go ahead with it.

calvin is not well educated, so he doesn’t tend to enjoy arguing with words, as he can never seem to find the ones to correctly express how he feels. instead, calvin is much more likely to act physically when something has irritated him (whether this be on a person or inanimate object).

calvin is an awful liar, he cannot lie to save his life as his face always tends to show when he doesn’t agree with an idea/opion/thought that somebody says. because of this, he is very outspoken, and will just say what he’s thinking regardless of if it’s going to hurt somebodies feelings. he’d rather upset them with the truth, than get caught out for lying.

calvin is an extrovert and gains energy from being around people - the more people the better, because of this, he has become a major party animal and loves attending any and all parties that is going on, despite if he’s fond of the hosts or not.

calvin is a heavy user of drugs, alcohol & cigarettes. this is primarily down to his naturally addictive personality and constant need to feel like he’s happy, so that he doesn’t get sad again. there will rarely be a day where he will not  be intoxicated in some way and he will have a cigarette at least once an hour -- and that’s on a good day.

calvin is very much into sports. although not a natural athlete, nor somebody interested in playing sports competitively, calvin loves watching any and all sports, and he likes to play them when he can. due to his smoking habit, he can’t play sports for too long, but will always give it a good go.

similarly to this, calvin is very much into gaming. calvin loves fast-paced games, because they manage to keep his attention despite him not having a very long attention span. most games that he plays are first person shooters, and he’s usually the guy on the mic screaming when a teammate fucks up during online play. a big appeal to him was that games were the only thing he could focus his mind on as a child.

calvin is very much a boys boy, he genuinely abides by the bible of ‘ bros before hoes ‘ because he’s stupid.

calvin hates movies but loves tv, he finds that watching moves involves sitting still for too long, but tv allows him to take more breaks and keeps his interest for longer. although. he’d probably trade both of them for a chance to leave the house.

...003. TRAITS.

[ G R E G A R I O U S ] (+) — a person fond of company; sociable.

[ I N T U I T I V E ] (+) — using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive.

[ F O R T H R I G H T ] (+) — direct and outspoken.

[ V O L A T I L E ] (-) — liable to change rapidly and unpredictably, especially for the worse.

[ V E N G E F U L ] (-) — not willing to forgive or excuse people's faults or wrongdoings.

[ H E D O N I S T I C ] (-) — engaged in the pursuit of pleasure; sensually self-indulgent.

...004. BELLA KIM.

when calvin met bella, he never took too much of a shine to her, deeming her to be a rather fake individual and not understanding the rest of the groups investment with her. however, because he was a new introduction to the group and not there from the beginning, calvin felt he couldn’t really speak up and vocalise that without being dropped from the group himself.

for whatever reason, bella herself took a liking to calvin and he decided to use this to his advantage. for a girl with such a clean reputation, it seemed only the sensible thing to try and corrupt her -- which proved successful. 

calvin introduced bella to the world of bad decisions and the two spent many nights breaking several laws and it created a sort of bond that only the pair really understood. they never talked about anything personal -- or, if they did, they were too high to remember -- but calvin saw a side to bella that not many others did, which he liked.

after moving out, calvin and bellas meetings became much less frequent as the group drifted apart. they would still meet up for occasional meet-ups, their last one being 3 months before the disappearance of bella.

calvin does not believe that she is alive and is dealing with it, as expected, not very well.

...005. WANTED CONNECTIONS.

CURRENT BEST FRIENDS — Possibly a boy squad? I live for a good boy squad. This person will have similar interests to Calvin, or be able to tolerate his volatile mood.

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS — Someone with a similar upbringing from Brooklyn, most likely they grew apart when Calvin moved to Wilmington.

RIDE OR DIES — Although he primarily looks out for himself, I’m down to have Calvin have one person who he’s loyal to and will refuse to betray, we can come up with a fun reason for why he cares so much if you’re interested in this one.

HIS ROOMMATE — Somebody that moved with Calvin into his current apartment when he moved out at 18.

A GOOD INFLUENCE ON CALVIN — One of my favorite connections for Calvin to have is somebody who knows all of his flaws and attempts to help fix them. They’ll have to be patient, though, as Calvin doesn’t see himself for having any issues.

SOMEBODY HE IS A BAD INFLUENCE OF — On the opposite, I love when Calvin has somebody that he can introduce to bad things, corrupt easily and get a kick out of watching the commotion.

EXES ON BAD TERMS — Cheating on each other is usually an easy one to go with, but if you want, we can think of something more unique as to how it all fucked up and why they now hate each other.

EXES ON GOOD TERMS — Maybe they still occasionally fuck? There could still be an attraction there, but just no romantic chemistry. Alternatively, they tried it and both just couldn’t see it going anywhere.

EXES WITH LINGERING FEELINGS — There’s a ton of different reasons for why there’s still lingering feelings. The feelings could be one-sided or both ways.

EX FLINGS — Started as friends with benefits, one of them wanted more, the other didn’t, they decided to stop before someone got hurt.

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS — No romantic intention, just a good way to kill time at 2 AM, or maybe it’s easy to know you have someone to go home to if you don’t find someone at a party.

FRIENDS FOR NECESSITY — This friend may not have that much in common with Calvin, they may not really get on in day to day life, but they are always there to get high, attend a party or do something dumb. an easy person to talk to when they’re both bored and wanna get out.

HIS YOUNGER SISTER — If anybody fancies a second character, I’m always down to have Calvins sister in the roleplay. They can either get along or not, we’ll just figure out the details.

EX FRIENDS — Used to be close but now aren’t, plenty of reasons as to why.

ENEMIES — Despise each other, seeing this person literally makes Calvins blood boil. Possibly sexual tension too if that would work, if not, they can just fight a lot.

WILL THEY / WON’T THEY — Lots of leading on and teasing each other, maybe they both think they’re stringing the other along but it turns out neither of them are interested? Maybe they start out not interested and it backfires later, by that time the other could’ve lost interest.

ANY OTHER IDEAS YOU THINK WILL WORK !

...006. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

Calvin is bisexual but heteroromantic, so any sexual-based connections can be taken by any gender.

Calvins Pinterest can be located here. Please note that it contains triggers for alcohol, drugs, blood & violence.

[padfootagain]

A Crimson Christmas (II)

Chapter 2: Erika

 Here we go for the next part of my Steve Rogers series! Will be focusing quite a lot on some character building for the reader, and some cute things with Steve. As several of you seemed to appreciate how I started the first chapter, I tried to make something similar for this chapter too. I hope you all like it!

Gif not mine

Word Count: 2417

18 000

11

400

150 000 to 300 000

It is a strange thing to sum up an event in numbers. It makes one's head spin, and yet it never quite stirs the true horror of a tragedy or joy of a miracle. Yet, most of the times, when trying to describe an event, using numbers as a first weapon is almost a reflex, an automatic response of our brain as it tries to grasp something it can't hold.

If one wanted to sum up the sinking of the oil tanker Erika in December 1999, off the shores of Brittany, they would use the 4 numbers written above.

The first is the number of litres of gasoline that were released in the ocean from the cracked hull of the ship.

The second is the number of days it took for the fuel to cross the distance from the wreckage to the shore.

The third is the number of kilometres of French coast that were polluted by the floating gasoline.

The fourth, and last, is the estimated number of birds that died in the catastrophe.

Numbers though are but abstract quantities, and if one wants to truly describe the event, there is no other way but to attempt to draw a fair picture of the shores at the time.

The scenery is easy. December 1999, a lot of grey and blue as a storm rages out. The violent waves end to pierce the already weakened steel skin of the oil tanker and cause its carcass to sink to the bottom of the ocean. Its sailors are saved, but the shipment, 30 884 tons of petrol, is partially released in the Atlantic Ocean. The attempts to stop the black wave to reach the coast are cut short by the storm that shakes the sea at this time of year.

11 days later, the first pools of gasoline touch the islands that stain the French coast.

4 more days and 400 km of coast are completely covered by toxic oil.

At first, it is but a few dots staining the sand, some grey caught in the foam left by the waves. A few hours later, there are large blocks of black sticky substance all over the seashells. The next day, the rocks, and the paint of the boats, and the sand are barely visible at all. The army is sent to clean the shores, but the scale is too great. Volunteers join in, with shovels and sponges and knives and brushes in an attempt to clean up every rock, every grain of sand.

Walking through a beach at this time is walking midst soldiers and volunteers. Every step is a fight against the sticky product, with boots sometimes buried ankles deep into the dark petrol. It is the fresh salty smell of seaweeds replaced by the sour one of gasoline. It is cliffs falling in black sand instead of the blue sea. It is bodies of birds stranded all over the place.

What did it change? For the people living on the coast, it is still today an open wound. If one tries to talk about the incident with the local population, they will be met by a pair of sad eyes and the tale of Christmas holidays spent ankle-deep in gasoline.

For the world? Nothing. Just one more incident to add to the long list of chasms carved in the environment.

For you? Everything.

You remembered the long ride from Saint-Malo to the western coast. First holidays since you entered University. For this first semester, you were majoring in all subjects, but you already had a vivid passion for bio-ecosystems, and in particular, marine biology.

Then the Erika sank. It was natural to go and help. You remembered Christmas day spent breathing the toxic petrol until it was all you could smell. Your boots buried in the sticky, black slime. Shovels and shovels digging the polluted sand. Soldiers all around you, but despite all this help, it wasn’t enough. You knew everything the gasoline would touch would surely die. It would take years for nature to heal. It had taken a few hours and a few minds craving for money to destroy it all.

You were picking up your fifth dead gull of the day. The gasoline, stuck to its feathers, made it impossible for it to float, and impossible for it to fly. Most of them had drowned, and all you could do was pick up the corpses.

You had ventured further than the rest of your friends, closer to the rocks now barely visible in all this black, when you heard a loud cry. A cormorant, without a doubt. You needed only a few seconds to spot the bird, covered in oil already, struggling to escape, struggling to avoid drowning, struggling to survive…

Somehow, it was just too much. After all you had seen that day, it was the last thing you could endure. You didn’t think at all as you ran across the slippery rocks and jumped in the salty water, trying to keep your head above the petrol.

You grabbed that poor agonizing thing in your arm, trying to keep it afloat, and you didn’t let go as it tried to escape.

The sea was far from calm though, and the thick layer of gasoline made it impossible to swim. At the first big wave, you were submerged, swallowing a bitter gulp of mixed salty water and fuel. You heard then the distant voices of your friends calling after you, they sounded scared, and you realized that you were too. Another forceful wave had you pushed against the rocks and you hit your head hard, and all went as dark as that bloody gasoline…

The rest was a blur. You remembered waking up in a hospital bed a week later, a real miracle. You should have died, that was what everybody said. But you didn’t, instead, somehow, you lived with new abilities.

You didn’t know where they came from, and were too scared of what any doctor could do to you if you ever showed any sign of abnormality, you had seen too many movies and read too many books to ignore the threat of becoming a lab rat. Years later, the Avengers formed, and you were spotted by Nick Fury. What had happened in your mind when you accepted to join them, you didn’t know. You reckoned that in the end, it was worth it all. This moment now, especially, made it all worthwhile.

After all, seeing Captain America wearing mascara and red lipstick was a sight to see.

"Mets tes lèvres comme ça!" the ten-year-old girl instructed Steve as she pursed her lips to show him what she wanted him to do, and he imitated her.

"Parfait!" she clapped her little hands in excitement as she added even more red to Steve’s lips.

"Gwen, laisse-le tranquille," your brother admonished, trying to rescue Steve from the excited child. But Steve merely smiled.

"It’s okay, we’re just playing," he reassured the worried father.

"Lèvres! Comme ça!"t Gwenn called Steve back into position and he pursed his lips again.

You picked up your phone and sneaked a picture, that you immediately sent to the entire Avengers WhatsApp group. With the different timezones, you reckoned you would have no answer before a few hours, but it was worth the wait.

It was true that joining the Avengers had meant a lot of changes, a lot of risks, a lot of pain. But it meant that you had met your best friends as well, and you couldn’t refrain a tender smile as you watched Steve play with your niece now.

"Y/N… the coffee is growing cold!"

You reached absentmindedly for your cup and warmed the beverage again. Your sister gave you a look.

"Cheating again."

"Controlling water has to have a few advantages. My drinks are always at the perfect temperature!"

She rolled her eyes.

"So, for how long are the two of you staying in Saint-Malo?"

You merely shrugged as an answer.

"We don't really know. I mean, we're supposed to just stay for the holidays, but I guess we don't know what to do next."

"Ha… retiring superheroes… poor you. You will definitely not have the complete retiring allowance now! Does that even count as a job, superhero?"

"I don't think it does. Shit… I've lost all these years…"

The two of you giggled, but your father did not.

"You should think about what to do next. And you could stay here. It's home."

"Papa, it's not that easy."

"Why not? Because monsieur muscle over there won't move here for you? So, you could be with your family."

You and Steve exchanged a glance.

"Well, we… haven't really talked about that," Steve tried to elusively respond, but it failed.

"You've spent years living a dangerous life. It's time to settle down. And you have to think about financial security now."

"Papa…"

"You need to get a job. A real one."

"Saving the Earth was not a job important enough for you?" you fired back, feeling more and more annoyed.

"You wasted years over this superhero adventure. I'm not saying it was useless, of course not. And I am proud of you. But you sacrificed your life during all this time. You didn't settle down, you didn't think about having a family, you didn't think about your old days… And I think it's time for you to have a normal life for a change."

You considered his words, and realized there was wisdom in them. You didn't quite like the way he put it, but you couldn't deny that you had spent years putting your life on the line. And maybe he was right, maybe now it was time to think about your own happiness before everyone else's.

"And you?" your father turned to Steve, his tone accusatory. "Don't you want her to be happy?"

Steve was playing your fake boyfriend, yet, he didn't need to lie to answer that question. And you could see it, deep down, in the depth of his blue eyes, that he meant the words he spoke. That was what friends were made for, right?

"There's nothing I want more than for Y/N to be happy, sir."

It was hard to look away from his baby blue eyes for some reason. Despite his funny look, covered in make-up, you didn't want to laugh at all. You just… wanted to keep on looking at him.

You guessed that you were letting your thoughts drift too far, and forced your brain to focus on your family again.

"We'll see, papa," you gave your father a smile. "It's not that easy to decide what to do next. It was our life for so long."

"I haven't forgotten how much you had to sacrifice," he mumbled in a dark tone, and you knew that he was referencing to the years you spent on the run with Steve.

You heaved a tired sigh.

"We've talked about it… countless times. It was my choice to make, and I agreed with Steve. You would have preferred for me to become a pawn that could be used by governments whenever they wanted?"

"Of course not. Governments couldn't be trusted…"

"Then why are you still bringing that up?"

"Because I didn't see my daughter for two years, that's why!"

You heaved yet another sigh, and Steve finally stood up from his spot on the carpet where he had been playing with Gwen. He took some cotton and started to clean up his face.

"I think we've both had a life that was out of the ordinary for too long," Steve spoke with a slow, quiet tone, his voice deep and calm showing he had been giving the situation a lot of thought. "It's hard to imagine what to do with the life we have left. I think… we just need a little time to let it all sink in, the truth that it can be over, that we don't have to be the ones in charge anymore. I think… we had both come to be at peace with the idea that we didn't have the choice of a life of our own. Now that we do, it feels strange. We don't really know what to do with it. Personally, I've never been anything else. We just need a little bit of time, to get used to it all. Then, I'm sure the decisions will come to us quite naturally. In the meantime, we just want to enjoy Christmas."

He reached for your hand, and you guessed that it was just for the act. Just because he played your fake boyfriend. It would be logical, if you were a couple, to be holding hands then, you reckoned. He was right. Besides, it felt safe to hold his hand.

"You know, I think I'm very tired after our long journey and everything. We should go to bed," you proposed.

Your grandmother finally joined the conversation.

"I've forgotten the blankets."

"I know where they are, mamie, don't bother."

But she was already walking towards the bedroom, and after you bid goodnight to your family, while they were getting ready to go as well, you and Steve joined Martine in the bedroom she had prepared for Steve and you.

You were not surprised to find that she had already put the blanket upon the bed.

"Oh, I forgot," she explained, but you were not fooled.

There was a short silence, before she heaved a sigh.

"Your father is worried. He always is. He's just not good at showing it. He does it all wrong."

"I know."

"It doesn't matter what you choose to do next. We're all here for you. Et puis, je l'aime bien, ton petit Steve," she added with a tender smile towards your 'boyfriend'.

He gave her a warm smile.

"I'm glad you like me, I've spent a lovely afternoon with you, Martine," he answered.

"Tomorrow you can show him the town," your grandmother instructed you.

"Yes, I will."

"Goodnight, les amoureux!"

You could only bury your face in your palm. She had to call you lovebirds, of course… if only she knew the truth.

"Bonne nuit, mamie."

The second she closed the door behind her, Steve and you exchanged a tired glance. It was more than time to go to bed. Tomorrow would be a brand new day. And there was much to do, and many questions to find answers to.

********************************************************

Taglist : @ponycake27​ @horsesreign​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @jbluevelvet​ @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss​ @stuckupstucky​ @snek-shit​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @i-padfootblack-things​  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10​ @emyyjemyy​ @addictedtofictionalcharacters​ @staringmoony​

@marvelcapsicle @madamrogers @rishlo @theshortegg​ @blacklilyqueen​