#yes i'm a bit drunk.... but what's a fellow to do? talk to people about tangible stuff? i don't think so

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 045 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Only If You Say Yes ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo was the type of boyfriend who never forced himself on you. He was too much of a gentleman you can't help but think maybe you're the toxic one in this relationship.

But he wouldn't give you the opportunity to let it sink in on how good he treats you because he would just bombard you with lovely kisses and gifts.

In the past, he always lacked the funds and time to spoil his precious beloved. Now that he has the means to shower you with luxury, how could he not?

Your lovely and brilliant smile would always be the first memory that plays in his head whenever he feels like burnout and exhaustion is about to swallow him whole. Those precious eyes of yours that never failed to glimmer like twinkling stars are in his mind as he pushes through a hard labor day.

His beloved's face that is like a tender flower blooming at the peak of springtime, his lover's blinding unparalleled beauty will never cease to make his heart stop.

So how could he, a man who is nothing more than a fool in love, not treat you tenderly as if he is handling the more fragile piece of gem?

Every single thing about you is so loveable.

The elders say that the honeymoon phase of a relationship comes and goes quite fast, but Jinwoo begs to differ.

He never really got out of it.

Nor is the fool willing to change his ways.

After all, would you really call it love if you can restrain yourself?

"Sarang, careful there" Jinwoo cooes gently, holding your hand as you curiously took one step in front of the other while playing atop a fallen log. "We wouldn't want you to be hurt."

"I'll be fine, my boyfriend is the scariest hunter after all!" You say proudly, like a proud puppy showing off its toy plush.

"I'm not that scary," Jinwoo hums, the corners of his eyes curling.

"You beat up Thomas Andre like a thug, are you not scary?" He immediately laughs nervously, embarrassed to hear his troublesome history with the fellow hunter.

"...It was justified, sarang, he pissed me off"

"Mhm," You skip, landing playfully on the ground with a soft thud, "So like a thug."

"Sarang...." Jinwoo sighs, relenting in this small banter knowing you will probably not shut up unless he gives in.

And that was the thing about you, you made Jinwoo instantly obedient. Sure, he always considered being polite with other people before but on particularly bad days, he secretly spat and cursed at those people while maintaining an insincere half smile while doing the facade. With you? You can bully him all you like and he would still love you.

Arguements? Rarely ever happens because he is always wrong unless we're talking about safety.

Why is there a need for a fight? Just tell him and he'll correct himself immediately.

Jinwoo just wants to devote himself to you.

That's all he wants.

To see you happy.

"Jagiya?" He calls out, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. "Can I hug you?"

"What's with that question?" You raise an eyebrow but still stretch your arms out for a hug.

Jinwoo's strong arms would immediately.

"Nothing just..." Jinwoo sighs, burying his nose on your hair to inhale the lovely scent he can never grow tired of. "Feeling a bit clingy."

"You know you can always hold me whenever" You say, rubbing his back which prompted the hunter to hold you even closer to himself.

"I don't want to make uncomfortable" He chuckles dryly, "What if I hold you while you're not feeling it?"

"You holding me will always make me happy"

"I still want to ask," Jinwoo smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately. "Just because"

"Jinwoo, you're being sappy, you can't even get drunk yet you're acting like you're drunk" You say, pinching the man's cheek which earned you a soft bite at your digit.

"Well... I cant blame you for saying that" He simply says.

He just wanted to cherish you, really. He really does. The trauma of war can never really be taken out of his system. It's only through you and his family that he can feel sane. If it weren't for that, he would as well be a hollow shell of a human being forced to be a vessel of war by his predecessor.

So don't blame him for being a bit weird sometimes.

He's just a little fucked up in the head after the war.

He'll come around.

But Jinwoo will always, always, cherish you.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I am still in the process of having writer's block so please excuse this very bland story qwq. I'm mind blocked with Jinwoo and I feel so overstimulated. I might do different characters for now until I get my woowoo juices back. For now, please forgive me guys qwq꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[leather-ropebunny]

Time Out

Reposting this from my old deleted blog.

Notes: contains rape, gang rape, free use, mentor/mentee, bondage, objectification, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, slapping, general sexual violence, FTM POV, MxFTM

Minors DNI

♡♡♡♡♡

The first time it happens, I'm thankfully alone.

I usually work with a team of my fellow superheroes, but this had been a simple burglary, so I'd insisted I could handle it alone.

Slipping into the house, I manage to locate a shadowy figure plucking something shiny out of a jewelry box in the bedroom, and then…

And then…

And then I blink, and I'm naked, face down ass up on a stranger's bed, shoulders pressed into the pillows, and my body is convulsing in a mind-blowing orgasm. I can feel a thick river of hot cum sliding down one thigh, pushed out of me as my boycunt clenches with every powerful spasm.

My body is sore, like I'd been in a fight, and I can feel bruises forming on my throat, my hips, my cheekbone. My mind can't latch onto what's happened, and it's all I can do to tug my uniform back on and flee the scene, leaving the mess of cum and my own slick behind in a complete stranger's sheets.

The second time it happens, I'm not so lucky to be alone. The robbery in progress seems a bit more intense, and my mentor and I head to the cafe to put a stop to it. After we arrive, though…

I come to, bent over the counter, my uniform pulled just far enough out of the way to display my cunt and tdick to the staff, the customers, the cops, and my mentor. As soon as I register reality, there's a second of shocked silence, and then I'm cumming again, dripping semen onto the cafe floor, my eyes trained on the reflection of my mentor's gaze in the espresso machine. He's staring at my pulsing cunt, and he looks horrified, yes, but also darkly hungry.

I think it's that thought that makes another, weaker orgasm ripple through me.

We try to figure out what's happening, but to no avail. I know, of course, that somehow I'm having sex. Being raped, most likely. The mystery is how, why neither I nor the people around me seem to remember it. We're all stumped.

It happens again

(on a crowded subway car, pressed up against the doors, coming back to reality as I'm falling onto the platform when they open, twitching and moaning as commuters gather around to watch)

and again

(seated on a park bench, legs in the air until I'm almost folded in half, each ankle tied to the trees on either side of me so I'm helpless and exposed to the cell phones recording me once passers-by realize what's happening)

and again

(trussed up and dangling from a streetlamp, my own panties muffling my whimpering as crowds of drunk men leaving the bars after last call realize my wet, naked boycunt has been conveniently left at cock-height, perfectly set up for it to be gang raped)

until it feels like it's happening every time I go out to fight crime.

Finally, I decide that if my team can't figure out what's happening (won't figure it out? I hate to think it, but they seem like they're starting to…enjoy it…), I'll get to the bottom of it myself.

I rig up nanocams to follow me everywhere as I go about my days, and every night I review the footage, but nothing odd sticks out, no sign of anything unusual for a week.

Then I get called out again, and this time I come to on my back on a detective's desk in the middle of the police station bullpen. They laugh as my eyes roll back in my head, legs shaking, and one of them sticks three fingers into my fucked-out, dripping cunt and finger-rapes me roughly until I cum again. I'm too confused, too humiliated to think of telling him to stop, and while I'm cumming a second time, another cop takes that as an invitation to ram his cock into me and pound it painfully into my cervix again and again until he floods my womb with cum.

They laugh again once he's done raping me, and I totter away on shaky legs to our headquarters, slipping into my room to pull up the footage and get to the bottom of this.

It had been a prisoner escape - no one was sure how he'd managed to get away, but as I fast-forward to the moment I had arrived at the station to assist, I can see exactly what's happening. The perp is periodically freezing time.

It all starts to fall into place.

I watch, horrified, as I run into the police station, and the masked figure on the screen gestures, time stopping in an instant.

I watch as he approaches me, reaching out to caress my cheek, then pulling his arm back and slapping me. My head jerks to the side, but I don't react.

As I watch in the present, I lift a hand to feel the heat of a newly forming bruise on my face.

The perp grabs me around the waist with the ease of practice and drops me none-too-gently on the desk. He runs his hands over my body briefly, and I can feel a tingling sensation now, like I can still feel the phantom touch.

He doesn't seem inclined to linger, though, and after a second he starts to move the officers and detectives so that they form a loose crowd around us, positioned as though they're watching. Then, without preamble, he pulls my bottoms off, grabs my ankles to spread my legs, and starts to rape me.

It's violent, his thrusts pushing me across the desk until my head is hanging off the other end, and he keeps having to haul me back towards him. He drops one of my legs to press his hand to my throat, then to slap me across the face, then to my throat again.

There's no sound, but the footage is clear enough that I can read his lips a little as he violates my unwilling body.

'Fucking cockslut…wet already…like it…slap you around…nasty rapedoll…always cum…rape you…your cunt's…only worthwhile part…take it, take it, fucking take it…'

He slams his cock into me brutally, plunging deep, and I watch as he cums inside me, lifting his hand off my throat to backhand me powerfully.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he backs towards the door, and time starts up again. As the cops around me crack up at my shuddering orgasm, the perp escapes, and I watch now from the outside as two cops assault me, as well.

"So that's it," my mentor's voice comes from behind me. "He manipulates time."

I look up at him as he lingers in the doorway, but he isn't looking at the screen or at my face, but at my crotch. That's when I realize that I'm rubbing my aching boypussy through my ruined uniform bottoms, my rapists' cum squelching under my frantic fingers.

When had I started masturbatung to my own rape? When he'd cum inside me? When he'd choked me? Maybe from that very first slap.

My mentor steps closer, and my gaze is drawn to where his cock bulges in his pants, straining against the fabric. My breath catches, and I shake my head, tears beginning to well up.

"Please…please don't."

"No?" He lunges for me, dragging me off my chair and turning me to face my computer, crowding me up against the desk with his bulk. His cock is a hot, throbbing pressure against my ass. "Are you sure? Because it looks to me like you enjoy this."

With one hand, he yanks my saturated bottoms back down, and with the other, he rewinds the video and hits play.

"Always knew you were a dirty fucking whore," he growls, pulling his own pants down just far enough for his cock to spring out, slapping wetly against my asscheek. "And it's about time I do what I've always wanted to do."

He grabs my hip, jamming his cock into my abused cunt, the mess my previous two rapists had left squishing out of my hole, and he begins to fuck me.

I sob, and he fists his free hand in my hair and pushes me down until my vision is filled with the video of the perp using my motionless body in the middle of the police station.

"Look. Look at how easily his cock slips into your pussy. You were already wet. Bet you started soaking your uniform before you'd even gotten there."

"N-no…stop…"

"Oh, yeah," he grunts, his cockhead pressing hard against my bruised cervix as he thrusts deep and holds it there. "You knew what was gonna happen. You've known every time you were gonna get raped."

"No. No. No."

"Oh, fuck. You're clenching down on my cock right now you fucking rapeslut." He starts pounding into me again, pushing my face closer as the cop on screen starts to ram his fingers into my cunt. "You let them rape you even after time had started again. You that desperate for cock?"

"No! I'm not…I don't…please stop!"

"Yeah? You're stronger than they are. Better trained - I should know." His hand leaves my hair to wrap around my throat and squeeze lightly. "But look at you. Just lying back and taking it."

I whimper, and to my horror, begin to rut back onto my mentor's cock. I'm so, so wet. My cunt is so sore, but I can tell it's also puffy and flushed with need. Even as his fingers tighten, choking me, I can feel another orgasm building.

I don't want this. I don't.

But he rewinds the footage again, forcing me to watch as the perp cums inside my unprotected pussy, and groans.

"Yeah, take that load you fucking cumdump," he grunts. "Fucking nympho, that's what you are."

We watch as time starts again and the me in the video begins to cum violently.

With a growl, my mentor shoves his cock into me as far as he can, and hisses, "take it, you stupid fucking rapeslut."

He pumps his load inside me, and yet again, I cum from being raped.

Once he's satisfied he's filled my unwilling womb, my mentor pulls out and watches as I slump to the floor.

"There's another call," he says, tucking himself away. "No time to clean up your uniform or your whore cunt - get out there."

I do, and this time, when I come to, I know I've just been violated in the middle of a busy street. People are staring, laughing, filming while I lie on the pavement, naked, blocking traffic.

As my orgasm rolls through me, I stuff my fingers into my cunt and mercilessly fuck myself until I cum again, thinking of all the footage I'll have to watch with my mentor later.

[gaianyx]

The Slytherin Party

By Jane F. Nyx

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: At the monthly Slytherin Party there is only one rule. No Gryffindors aloud, except for a pair of twins. What happens when one of those twins happens to be your good friend and latest 'one-night stand'?

W/C: 1.1k

A/N: Based on the 'Hogwarts Party' tiktoks. Feedbacks and tips will be well received :)) Proof read. No use of (y/n).

Happy reading everyone!

The first thing to be heard was the sound of a muffled song blasting through speakers when I got closer to the 'door', the girl's unused bathroom.

Two Slytherin boys were watching the door, so I walked up to them, my trusty bag with all the goodies inside kept closer to me.

"I brought the puff Blaize ordered," I said, showing the boys my bag. 

They opened the door for me to enter.

The loud sound of music becomes much clearer. People dancing, drinking and singing around. Almost every student from every house was there. The monthly Slytherin Party became a tradition.

No Gryffindors aloud. Hufflepuffs, the bakers and herbologists. The Ravenclaws, the potions and spells makers, were always welcome. And of course, no Slytherin could go through a party without their emotional support Hufflepuff buddy next to them.

I walked through the cloud of people trying to find the right ones. That's when I saw them, standing next to what looked like a potion Fontaine.

Blaize Zabini, who had Luna Lovegood leaning on his shoulder. And Mattheo Riddle, with Dove Jackson, aka my best friend, by his side.

I quickened my pace to talk to them.

-"Hey, love! How is it going?" Dove asked when I approached her group.

-"I'm doing good," I responded, "Brought the stuff, made this morning," I showed them all the bag and gave a smaller one that was inside to Zabini who gladly accepted it.

-"Did I ever tell you you're the best?" Zabini asked, passing the bag to Luna to give it to her fellow potion makers.

-"No need to, I already knew that," I laughed at the last part. Dove and Luna then took both of my arms for us to leave the boys and do some business.

We were dressed for the night, Dove wearing a dark green tight dress to match her house. Luna a white cocktail dress with glitter that fit her style perfectly. And me, my favourite, blood red dress.

We had just started to hand out the potions when they walked in...

The Weasley twins.

I quickly turned to Luna and Dove, grabbing them by their arms.

"You told me he wasn't invited," my voice sounded much more like a grunt, after the new discovery.

-"Well, we didn't invite them," Luna said with her calm tone, "Maybe Mattheo did. He was talking to Blaize the other day about some candy he had ordered for the party,".

Of course they did.

There was only one exception to the 'No Gryffindors Rule'. And that exception happened to be George and Fred Weasley.

And Fred Weasley happened to be my one party date/flow/thing/I don't know what happened that night.

Since then things became weird between us. I was drunk that night, he was drunk that night and we both had smoked a bit. So I don't know how much of it was real.

Yes, there was tension before that. But nothing more than Fred being a flirt. He was just a flirtatious person.

We were both dealers so it was made to happen that we would meet at any party soon. But I didn't know it would take only a week time.

"Looking good, sweetheart!" was the first thing I heard leaving that pretty mouth of his.

I felt two gentle ticks on my shoulder, so I turned around.

The one only Fred Weasley.

He was a little taller than me so I needed to look a bit up to see his face.

And God, did he look good tonight.

Black button-up shirt and dark blue jeans, the first two buttons of his shirt open leaving room for imagination.

Luna and Dove had disappeared, leaving me and Fred alone...

-"Hello, Weasley!" I gathered the courage to talk. "What are you doing here?" I already knew the answer, but everything was better than silence. Even tho we were at a party full of people.

-"Same as you," he said "Just business," Fred pointed at George who had handed a little bag to Mattheo and Blaize.

-"I see..." I didn't know what to say, did he even remember everything that happened last party?

-"I was actually hoping you would be here tonight," he said taking one step closer. I could smell the familiar scent of cinnamon and wood.

The same smell that felt so intoxicating the last time. The same smell that made me wanting for more and wished the night didn't end the way it did.

Both of us were just too scared, scared to take the next step and admit that what we had wasn't only rivalry between dealers, that it wasn't only the friendship we had built, that it wasn't only the flirting and shared glancings.

That it wasn't only me and him, but maybe a us.

He took another step closer, he was looking down into my eyes and I was looking into his.

-"You also look good tonight," a small laugh escaped Fred's lips and a smile appeared in mine.

A slower song started to play. It might have been destiny, but in any way, it happened.

-"Would you like to dance?" Fred asked, "Promise I won't run away this time," he smiled at the last part remembering the chaotic night you guys had had.

-"Yes," and there I was. Once again at the arms of Fred Weasley swaying to a slow song, my hands on his shoulder and his hands on my waist.

-"You know," Fred was talking in a much lower tone now, almost a whisper, "I don't regret the last party, nor do I regret kissing you, the only thing I regret was leaving you afterwards,".

-"Freddie..." I felt my cheeks heating up, "We were drunk," there I was once again blaming everything on the alcohol and the weed. Completely ignoring my feelings and second-guessing the whole thing.

-"I only drank that much to take the courage and finally hit up on you and admit that what I feel for you is much more than friends should feel for each other," his eyes seemed to spark, and I couldn't stop looking at them.

We were in a trance, completely forgetting the world around us.

"And I hope, that you feel the same about this redhead right here," there was hope in his eyes, but there was also fear.

-"What I feel for you is much more than friends should feel," I said, my heart racing, "And I don't regret anything. Not at all, the only thing I regret is that it ended,".

And he kissed me.

But not for the last time.

A/N: If you enjoyed this post please don't forget to like and reblog <3333 Thank you for reading!

Requests: open

See you in the next chapter!

xoxo Jane

[ladysternchen]

You know, I'm quite glad that we're getting the fanon vs canon concerning Elu Thingol and the Sindar in general into focus a bit. When I first came to Tumblr, it felt to me as though I were just about the only one who cared about him (which of course was never the case, but I at least had no-one to talk to about my elf).

But there's a stale note to it- that it seems there must be more fighting, and hardened fronts, more never-ending discussions that always burn down to one thing- do we accept canon or not.

And really, I don't want to go down that road anymore. I really don't want to spend so much time quoting and explaining and re-reading to make sure I get my argumentation right only to have the other side say stuff like 'yeah, true, but I still get a different vibe so I'm gonna ignore canon and keep hating'

And while I really want to emphasise that there is nothing (!) whatsoever wrong with feeling a story, feeling characters and liking or disliking them (yes, happens to me, too. Canonically, Aredhel has done absolutely nothing wrong, and yet I really dislike her), basing actual character-bashing on these 'vibes' is a problem. Excluding people who defend their favourite characters with CANON from discussions. Making up yet more hateful fanon. Accusing people of certain political beliefs because they like the Sindar (and yeah, I did delete a lot of what I've written here. It just... this makes me so so is angry, but starting to insult people is not what I want for this post, so I deleted, and sat on my fingers until I was able to pick up civil tones again).

But I can't change it. I can't change what other people think, and who knows, maybe I'm no more right than they are. Maybe there is no right. Maybe we could accept that this fandom is vast enough for ALL OF US?

So dear fellow Sindar-stans, let's stop arguing and fill Tumblr instead with the content you want to see. Share your headcanons, write your fanfictions, draw and share your fan art.

Let's discuss it all, dive deep. Comment on the works you like, ask for things to be written. Yeah, I have an obsession with character death, I find grief and mourning an incredibly beautiful thing to write and read about, and as I kill off my favourite characters in general, Elu Thingol's death is my prime motive. (who would have guessed, ey? 🤣) And I'd love to read it from time to time, rather than always write it myself. But that is my very specific hyper fixation and understandably not everyone's cup of tea. But give me all those tender moments of love and friendship and loyalty. Give me the conversations between Elwë, Olwë and Elmo on the journey, give me Daeron's backstory, give me Mablung and Beleg standing unwavering behind their king. Give me drunk Elu and Melian and HER found family. Give me an insight into Nimloth's head. Give me loving reaper-like comics with Elurín and Eluréd and Námo Mandos. And hell, yes, all you talented artists out there, give me some spicy Elu and Melian, please? Give me an insight into all those tender moments. Give me the moment of their reunion, and please please please will anyone draw the moment that Elwë stumbled into Olwë's arms on legs that would not yet carry him (lol, ok, that's too specific. But I have that weird hc that Elves that are released from Mandos need some time to get accustomed to their body again, like a butterfly needs to dry after it emerges from its cocoon).

Ok, now I waffled enough, but will we try that, please? Spread some love instead of discord? That belongs to Bauglir after all.

[taste-thewaste]

fic pride tag

thank you so much for the tags my lovely friends <3 @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

this is going to be interesting because I have to be nice to myself and proud of my work lol let's goooo (all of these are firstprince because i'm vanilla)

1. Gorgeous. Another short little dude in my T Swift series, inspired by the song. This is the first line, and I've always loved it:

They are in a small bar in Paris, drunk on French 75s and the nearness of each other, staring at the Eiffel Tower when Alex starts making fun of him.

2. i wanna touch your body (so fucking electric). my beloved first smut fic!! so proud of how this one turned out actually. here's my favorite bit of the boys sexting each other

Later that night, when Henry is safely sequestered in his rooms and able to do what he likes, he opens his text thread with Alex and sends a barb of his own.  Thinking about the way your dick looks when it’s curved against your belly. You’re so fucking pretty.  Alex’s phone goes off, and he looks away from the skillet that he’s cooking chicken in to check. He reads Henry’s text and his cheeks flame, a bolt of lightning heads straight to his groin, and his dick stirs.  Pretty? Yes. You have a pretty cock, Alex. Sue me.   Alex moans, and he can’t think of what to say because his mind is flushed with want and need. Luckily, Henry seems to know this and follows up.  I want your pretty cock in my pretty mouth so I can hear you beg.  Alex’s dick is painfully hard, and he’s grateful for just a moment, in his haze of arousal, that he’d swapped his characteristically tight jeans for sweatpants when he’d gotten home. He manages to tap out a response before he starts taking care of himself. I’d be begging so loud that we’d rattle the ghosts of all those dead gay kings in that castle. I’d peel the wallpaper with my screams for you, baby.   Alex finishes coming as soon as the smoke alarm in the kitchen goes off. He’s burned the chicken.

3. i could've danced all night. henry tutu fic!! this fic is so filthy, and i love this bit

“You…your dick is, uh, ahhhh, cock, and…” is all Alex manages to spit out before throwing his head back and abandoning all pretense of sexy talk. He can’t focus on anything but the feeling of Henry’s giant hands on him ( seriously , is anything about this man tiny?) and how close he is to coming.  “My ‘dick is cock’, eh? That’s eloquent. Pure poetry, love,” Henry says with a low, throaty laugh, feeling himself going even harder than he already had been. Alex cock drunk is his favorite thing; the idea that he can fuck Alex stupid does something to him. He strokes even faster, shutting Alex up before he can even attempt some kind of comeback.

4. only bought this dress so you could take it off. alex in a little black dress and red bottoms! utter filth. here's my favorite part.

Alex knows what’s coming soon, who’s coming soon, and the thought brings a grin to his face. “Look at you, so out of your mind that you’re reduced to fucking a carpet because you just can’t get enough. It hurts, doesn’t it, you little slut? It hurts but it feels good, it feels so good , doesn’t it?” He punctuates each ‘good’ with a dig of the heels, and then Henry screams, fucking screams like his spirit is being wrenched from his body.  He waits until Henry’s finished—he can tell by the way he is just lying there, spent, his body heaving and out of breath—and then he steps off. The vague part of Alex that is still himself underneath the fog of arousal that’s clouded his head wants to pull Henry up, clean him off, make sure he’s okay. That part, however, is locked in the recesses of his brain, and he wants to keep going because it’s his turn now, and by the look Henry gives him when he sits up, he knows that, too.  “Come here.” Alex snaps his fingers again, and Henry starts to rise to his feet. “Did I say to stand up? I said to come here. ” Henry stops, looks up at Alex like he is confused, but he isn’t, and Alex knows it. He drops to his knees and crawls forward, his knees pushing through the mess he’s made without even thinking, moves forward until he is right in front of Alex.

5. turn the desert to glass (you would be the one). henry's tummy fic, the fic I am most proud of. i worked so hard on it!! here's two of my favorite parts bc i can't pick just one

After a few moments, Alex rests one hand on the lower part of Henry’s belly, where he’s the softest, and leans over to grab another spoonful of mousse. “You look like the most pampered, spoiled, overfed little prince right now,” he says in a low voice as the bite of rich dessert disappears down Henry’s pretty throat.

and

A tiny sound squeaks past Henry’s lips, a sound he can’t control but knows will drive Alex mad, a sound that means more . Alex slips a finger inside of him, and another, opens him up like he is a book he’s been dying to read, and Henry bares down shamelessly, his own hand twisted in the sheets at his side. 

6. Your Lipstick, His Collar. my multi chap emo early 2000s college au being co-written with my bestie! this fic is so. much. fun. and here's a bit I love from one of my chapters:

“Here, you dropped this.” Alex’s iPod, suddenly pinker than anything in the world had a real right to be, is being handed to him. Alex looks up finally and his stomach does a flip as Henry’s eyes, as blue as any ocean he’s ever seen, lock with his. Now that he’s up close, he can see the remnants of yesterday’s eyeliner still smudged around Henry’s eyes, and he wants to know why and how and when and where he’s worn it. He wants to sit next to him and watch him put it on. He wants to watch Henry squeeze into those jeans that are really too tight to be allowed, really too tight to be anything more than a major tease, and he wants to…oh, he has to stop thinking right fucking now because things are going to get even more awkward if he doesn’t. “Thanks,” Alex says quietly, trying to not think about the feeling of Henry’s fingers against his as he takes the iPod. They’re soft and gentle, and all he can imagine is the delicate way they must hold an eyeliner pencil. “I like that song,” Henry says, and Alex can’t handle the way the words come out of his mouth, the way they fall from his lips in the lightest, most dignified accent, like the gentle flapping of a bird’s wing. “What?” Alex blurts stupidly, the word falling from his lips with a thud and rolling down the sidewalk like a giant turd. Christ, he’s an idiot.

7. take me out, and take me home. my newest, my lil baby!

Alex tells him the things he’s never told anyone, and Henry places a hand on his knee while he talks. He is quiet and still and holds Alex’s words with so much reverence and care. In return, Henry tells him the things he’s most afraid of, the things that have hurt him the most. He stares Alex in the eyes and gives him pieces of himself that he has never given to anyone. 

tagging: @england-would-fall @henrysfox @agostobuwan @stratocumulusperlucidus @priincebutt

@piratefalls @doublecheekedkinard those are my 7 but please feel free to use this open tag and tag me if you want to do it!!

[idolish7imagines]

Hiii, can I ask for some Tenn x fem reader fanfiction where she's a singer and she often takes part in their concert and they have like really good dynamic, like you can feel how good are their relationship and how they know eachother (they're together but their fans don't know). Beside fans perspective - I would like to see I7 and trigger ones too

Keep Your Eyes On Me :: Kujo Tenn x Reader

A/N: sorry i made this needlessly angsty lol

.::.

Ryuunosuke was so happy for Tenn, practically watching you guys from afar practicing on a song together and exchange tips and opinions about how they should go about it.

Gaku was watching as well, though not as intensely as Ryuu. Tenn's fellow group member was happy for him, sure, but couldn't help but wonder why you and Tenn clicked so quickly and easily. Not that he was jealous or anything, it was just something that left him a little curious.

You had even managed to make Tenn of all people let out a genuine laugh every once in a while.

Though, maybe it had something to do with how you both were obsessed with professionalism and performing things the best to your ability. However Tenn seemed a smidge less prissy about things when around you and more relaxed and able to have fun rather than stressing about the assignment.

The first time the IDOLiSH7 members see you is at an afterparty of a concert. The two of you were woefully tired while Anesagi generously passed out water bottles. On the way to the party, the idol seemed actually a bit..nervous?

Tapping on his arm, you quickly try to figure what's wrong. The concert went great---better than great, and he should be proud of himself, so what could possibly be the matter?

Ryuu and Gaku were a little too excited to drink and recount their time on stage to notice that the two of you were lagging a bit behind them.

"Tenn, is something up? You were amazing as always." Gently, you slide your hands into his, looking in his pink eyes.

"..My brother's in there." He states, trying to look not as bothered as you know he is.

"Oh yeah, he's in IDOLiSH7 right? The center?" A smiles comes upon your lips in an attempt to quell whatever's ailing him right now.

Tenn nods without further input.

Being able to put 2 and 2 together, you realize he might've been nervous about him meeting you.

"Oh, I get it, you're worried he won't like me?" "No, I'm sure he will." He quickly responds this time. "Its not that I'm worried about."

"Then..what is?" Your hands subtly grip his soft ones in concern.

The idol goes a bit quiet again, shaking his head. "We can talk about it after the party." He takes your hand, walking into the room the party was being held. The noise from it was already clear to be heard from the hall.

.::.

You didn't think you'd find fans in the form of IDOLiSH7.

Hitting it off pretty well with the members since they already recognized you, you were kind of swept away with them during the party.

Mitsuki takes a playful jab, half-drunk. "Hey hey, is it true you and Kujo are dating each other?"

"Oh yes, we are." You smile, being significantly less drunk than everyone else, therefore not catching his tone as anything noteworthy.

That side of the room goes a bit quiet, having heard you. The atmosphere grew awkward and you frown, feeling like you've said something you shouldn't have.

Riku's eyes light up with joy. "Uwaa~ Tenn-nii's dating (Y/N)-san? That's amazing, congratulations!"

Tenn clearly heard that from the other side of the room, choking on his drink. He was planning to tell him himself once the party died down. It didn't help that their managers were there as well.

"I oddly feel a bit proud." Yuki snarks, running a hand through his hair. Re:vale had mostly been talking amongst themselves and Ryuu and Gaku while you were preoccupied with I7.

The pink-haired idol's eyebrow twitches, wondering what that's supposed to mean.

"Damn I didn't think he'd like..have it in him to date someone instead of finding a way for it to be the entirety of his fans." Yamato remarks, holding an empty beer cup in his hand.

Once again Tenn has a slight knee jerk reaction, glaring to Yamato next. Couldn't there have been a way to do this while they weren't drunk?

"I knew it! Tenn Tenn always smiles harder when talking about them on TV!" Tamaki grins as if he's solved a mystery.

"(Y/N)-san's quite talented and serious about their work, so I suppose I could've seen it sooner." Iori says.

Riku soon bombards you with questions, which Yamato and Iori have to shut down eventually since maybe he's prying a bit too much.

A few more teases are shared with Re:vale, Ryuu and Gaku before its time to leave. You exchange rabbitchats with everyone before you go.

.::.

"How do you feel about Riku?" Is the first thing Tenn asks on the drive back to his apartment

You turn to him with your usual smile. "He's nice. Not too different from how you described him, haha!"

"Right." Tenn says dryly, looking out the window.

Your smile fades a little, putting a hand on his thigh. "Something up?"

"Nanase Riku charms everyone no matter where he goes." Your boyfriend folds his arms.

A beat of silence comes between you, trying to process that.

"I mean yeah, that seems true." You nod.

"Right.." Your boyfriend was typically blunt and straightforward, making assumptions wasn't something you usually had to go through with him because he made his thoughts and opinions loud and clear. But there was a thought nagging at the back of your head.

"..Are you concerned about me getting along with Riku a little..too well?"

it was true that you had taken an interest in Riku, he was Tenn's brother after all and was considered a notable talent among the idol industry, but there was a slight ping in your chest that made you feel bad if Tenn were getting jealous.

On the other hand, jealousy isn't exactly the word Tenn would use to describe it. It isn't like you both don't already have thousands of fans. (who had already been speculating about the two of you dating on social media. Some were in denial while others treated it as if it were confirmed already) In fact, not being nice to Riku would be a dealbreaker for him.

Its simply that Tenn has spent most of his life trying to do things to appease Riku and keep him happy (which in itself turns into a mess from time to time) and he didn't want you to be wrapped into all of that. He feels a bit selfish over it, but its hard to deny now that you've met Riku.

He feels what the two of you have is special and dear to his heart, and doesn't want anything to come between you.

Instead of elaborating further, he simply tilts your chin up towards him, leaning in.

"Keep your eyes on me and only me. I'll show you something promising."

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

For fun pairings

Thorne Jamison x Peter Vincent - Peter meeting whichever parent (s) Thorne has

Thorne Jamison x roderick Peterson - Thorne defends his boyfriend when someone calls Roderick too boring/too weird

(I know both of these prompts have the ability to be angsty, but I feel like they definitely have the ability to be fun too!)

Hope you’re inspired ❤️❤️❤️

Since I haven't written anything for them this month, let's go with Thorne and Roderick!

On with the fic!

--

"You didn't have to come." Roderick said as he opened the front door for Thorne, who gave a nod in thanks before slipping inside.

"I wanted to spend the evenin' with you." Thorne said, his grin charming. "I mean, yeah, it's some borin' get together for stuffy children's choir conductors, but still!"

"It's an annual event." Roderick rolled his eyes. "From all over the kingdom. You'd be shocked on how big of a deal this sort of thing is. We're all stuck in a room together, forced to talk and compare notes and try to play nice when there isn't a competition. Which isn't easy, considering a lot of my fellow conductors can be... well..."

"Absolute petty bitches 24/7?"

"If you want to put it like that, though it is apt." Roderick smirked and removed his coat, bringing it over to a coat check. Thorne did the same, the poor girl behind the counter was surprised to be handed a studded leather jacket instead of something a bit more formal and clean.

Roderick took Thorne by the arm and walked him into a room which, thankfully, had an open bar, and went up to get them drinks. There were people already here, and frankly, Roderick wanted nothing to do with any of them. He hated all their guts, and they hated his, especially considering he happened to be the best in the business.

Well, if you exclude that one year Donald's little group did better, but that had been an... eye-opening experience and Roderick really didn't like thinking about it too much. At least the parts where he had been a complete idiot.

"Look at all these stuffy losers." Thorne said, sipping from his glass, gesturing to his room. "Bet they've got their conductor wands shoved up their asses from how stiff they are."

"Like you wouldn't believe." Roderick sighed. "We play nice, but there is bite in our words."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me, sweetie, I'm in the music scene too. Though, when it comes to catty bullshit, we tend to usually throw drinks at one another to prove a point."

"Please don't."

"We'll see how the evening goes." Thorne grinned and drank down his glass before getting a refill.

Roderick stuck close to the bar, mostly to keep Thorne from getting drunk, and to avoid having to make small talk. He just wanted to hear how things were going and what competitions were planned for the year, maybe grab some nibbles, and get out of here.

He noticed a woman approaching and he inwardly groaned. Oh no, not her...

"Roddy, darling!" The woman smiled, showing her teeth as her red-painted lips were pulled tight. She was really putting on the fake joy today.

"Marge." Roderick replied, setting his glass down. "Didn't expect to see you here, thought I heard word that your husband was in the hospital."

"Oh, he'll be fine, Broken pelvis from an accident. I'd be there with him now, but I never miss one of these, you know that! I've got perfect attendance!"

He tried not to roll his eyes. Marge was a bit too much for his taste, and too damn nosy. She always sniffed out gossip and anything she could use as blackmail to try and get a head in this business. Rumor had it that she was also known for bribing judges.

As if he'd ever sink that low.

Okay, he stole a baby, but frankly, that baby had been stolen once already that day.

"Not sure why that's so important." Roderick sniffed. "It's not like we're students."

"Yes, but it's good to show you're attentive, especially when there's a chance of getting a place in the planning committee!" She practically sang.

"Hm." He picked up his glass, finishing it off, before turning to Thorne. "Could you ask for another gin and tonic for me, please?"

"Got it." Thorne winked and moved down the bar, trying to get the bartender's attention.

Roderick turned back to Marge, who had a look on her face that made him uncomfortable. "You brought a friend?"

"Yes?" He asked, frowning. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"Oh, no, it's just... you've never took up the whole 'plus one' thing, Roddy. Ever." She smirked. "I heard rumors before, about how you've been... collaborating with someone. Is this your collaborator?"

"Yes." He shifted a bit, looking for an exit out of this conversation. "His name is Thorne, he's a metal and punk musician. We're doing research into the combined sounds of classical and rock, considering that they are closely tied."

"Sounds like you've probably been combining sounds for a while, Roddy." She laughed and he felt too hot all of a sudden. "Always did wonder why you never brought any girlfriends before, or straight up rejected some of the ladies here! But I guess what people have been saying about you for years is true!"

"And what would that be?"

"That you're gay! God, it was obvious from the start, should've seen it coming! But really? Really? Some punk? You're really at the bottom of the barrel if you're into that. But then again, it's too hard to really find anyone who would find you date worthy in our business. Considering how much of a hardass you are, probably need someone who finds that kinky. I mean, it's probably a fetish for the more outlandish types, to want someone who is so straightlaced and boring, a total snore-"

Suddenly, something flew over Roderick's shoulder and hit Marge with a splat. She stood there, shocked, covered in a liquid with ice cubes on the ground.

"Oops."

Roderick turned to see Thorne, holding an empty glass in his hand, the other one full. "A bit unsteady on my feet, you know how Doc Martens are."

Marge let out a growl of frustration. "Roderick! Control your freak of a-!"

The second glass's contents hit her in the face. "Whoops." Thorne said casually. "Butterfingers. Best to get refills, sorry baby."

"That's quite alright, accidents happen." Roderick smiled. He turned back to Marge. "What were you saying about my boyfriend?"

She didn't reply, she huffed, walking off, dripping in alcohol. A few of the other guests stared at her, then turned to him. He gave a small shrug. "You heard him, you know how Doc Martens are."

--

*takes these two from terrible movies and has them being happily in love because I said so* This is nice. :)

[heniareth]

Inquisitor as a Companion: Banter

MARELAS OF CLAN ELNORA (ORIGINALLY LAVELLAN)

From the template of dextronoms (original here)

Voice:

Marelas tends to speak quietly and gently, with his voice coming either from his chest or his throat. He enunciates clearly and his voice is warm. He can sing very well, but you will never get to hear it; he's too shy for that. Still, there is a rhythm and a tempo to the way he speaks. Sometimes, it sounds a bit like he's performing theater

Cole’s reflection on their thoughts:

Cole: "Cold, ice and darkness, whirling water all around. It pushes, pulls, presses into-"

Marelas: "Cole, please. This is not helping."

Cole: "It's alright. You don't have to fear the water forever. I can help."

Marelas: (gently) "You are speaking out loud, and dragging me back into that moment, Cole. That is not helping. It's quite violent, in fact."

Cole: "I... it is?

Marelas: "I understand that you didn’t mean to. But if you truly want to help someone, speak to them when you two are alone. Offer your help and detail the kind of help you want to give first. Then let them choose if they want to accept it or not. Don't just jump in."

Cole: "That is better?"

Marelas: "For the big hurts, it is. You can keep hiding the daggers of drunk soldiers, though."

Cole: "But the death I'm avoiding there is not a small hurt!"

Marelas: "That's true. But the help that you offer brings only a small hurt. Talking out loud about other people's painful memories and forcing them to accept help is a much bigger hurt than a lost dagger."

Cole: "I... don't know if I understand. But..."

Marelas: "You can feel our distress. You will learn which of the things you do to help cause more or less hurt. Keep an eye on that."

Cole: "Yes... I will."

Comment(s) on Mages:

(entreating) “Inquisitor, look closely. This is no camp. This is a refuge.”

“No food storage, no tents. Magic can make for warmth when the nights are cold, but these conditions are unlivable in even for a mage.”

Comment(s) on Templars:

(very faintly bitter) “They say mages are dangerous. Are they any better?”

(shocked) “They dragged this poor girl all the way here...”

When looking for something:

"What's that? Inquisitor, moment have a look around?"

"I think taking a closer look might get us something interesting."

When finding a campsite:

“This should do. What do you think?”

“It’s getting late. How about setting up camp?”

“My feet would appreciate some rest. Shall we set up camp?”

"If we make camp now, I might be able to finish that translation I was working on."

When the Inquisitor Falls:

“Inquisitor! Hold on!”

“Cover the Inquisitor!"

If he is friends with a non-elvhen Inquisitor:

"Stay with us, my friend!"

If he is friends with an elvhen Inquisitor:

"Rem syla, lethallin/lethallan!" (Hold on to life, my friend)

If he is in a romance with the Inquisitor:

"Ma vhenan! No!"

(frantic) "Stay awake! Stay awake!"

When they are low on health:

"I need help!"

(groaned) "Mythal las'halani." (Mythal, grant [me] help)

(whimper) "Falon'Din ulielas'el." (Falon'Din, have mercy)

(weak, disjointed) "Falon'Din, Lethanavir..." (beginning of a prayer for the dead to Falon'Din. The full translated prayer can be found here)

When they see a Dragon:

(quietly, in awe) "Mythal ulielas'el!"

"The dragons are just coming back, do we really have to... of course we have to."

When during their small side quest:

"Do we have a moment to take a closer look at this?"

(in quiet awe) "Look at these colors! The symbology! Just one minute, please!"

"I'm so close to figuring out the meaning of these symbols, I just need one more quick look."

Default saying (when you want to talk to them in Skyhold, how do they respond?):

"Hello, Inquisitor."

"Anything I can help with?"

"How are things going?"

"Inquisitor! How are you?"

If the Inquisitor is an elf:

"Aneth ara, amae'len." (Hello, fellow elf [one-who-i-recognize]. It's not a cheeky thing, it's just that lethallin/lethallan/lethallen seems to be reserved for friends and I wanted something similar but more geared towards acquanitances of coworkers)

When greeting a low-approval Inquisitor:

"One moment, please."

(polite, formal) "To what do I owe this visit?"

(hesitant) "I'm afraid I'm a bit busy..."

(undercurrent of fear or annoyance) "Something the matter?"

When greeting a friend:

"Hello, my friend."

(genuine) "It's good to see you."

(happy) "You found time to come by! How good."

If the Inquisitor is an elf:

(warmly) "Creators watch your path, lethallin/lethallan/lethallen."

If he is in a romance with the Inquisitor:

(softly) "Nehn'alas, ma vhenan." (You bring joy, my heart)

(happy) "Ma'latha. I missed you."

(cheeky) "Looking for me, vhenan?"

Travel Banter with Canon Companions of your choice:

Marelas: "Cassandra, I had a... well, actually, nevermind."

Cassandra: "What is it?"

Marelas: "I had a question, but I realize it's... highly likely to be insensitive. Apologies."

Cassandra: "I'm in a good mood. What was it about?"

Marelas: "Well... You believe the Maker has abandoned this world, yes?"

Cassandra: "You wish to know how we believe in an absent god? I thought your gods were absent as well."

Marelas: "They were banished. There is a difference between being forced to leave and leaving voluntarily."

Cassandra: "That we can agree on. But it's not true that the Maker abandoned us entirely. He still hears our prayers. He may grant you His favor."

Marelas: "You, individually?"

Cassandra: "Yes, like He did with Andraste, speaking in very general terms. Do your gods not prefer some individuals over others?"

Marelas: (Brief pause) "Individuals may prefer or fear one of the Creators over the other. But the Creators as a whole guide the People as a whole, as well as the individual people who make them up."

Cassandra: "And what if two elves are opposed to one another? Or two factions of your people?"

Marelas: (not quite sure where this is going) "Then one is in the wrong and one is in the right, although those two usually tend to blend and mix."

Cassandra: "Your Creators do not choose sides and show one greater favor?"

Marelas: "That depends what either side is fighting for."

Cassandra: "But one was right and one was wrong!"

Marelas: "As I said, those two tend to blend very heavily. And to state that the Creators are interested in right or wrong is not entirely true. It is... more complicated than that."

Friendship?: (what they call the PC if they are friends or the dialog)

"When I first arrived in Haven I had little hopes of finding a friendly face in the Inquisition. Thank you for taking me in. Thank you for trusting me. I am honored to call you my friend."

Leaving the Inquisition (what do they say or do if the approval is low enough for them to leave?):

Before they leave, Marelas will confront the Inquisitor, express his wish to leave and ask them if they will allow him to take his notes with him. Depending on the direction the conversation takes, there are several possible outcomes:

1) The Inquisitor doesn’t allow Marelas to take his research notes and convinces him to stay to keep an eye on how they are used. Marelas agrees, albeit reluctantly.

2) The Inquisitor allows Marelas to leave with his research notes. They part on more or less amiable terms.

3) The Inquisitor doesn’t allow Marelas to leave with his research OR doesn’t allow Marelas to leave at all. In this case, Marelas waits until the Inquisitor leaves, then packs as much of his research as he can carry and makes a run for it. The Inquisitor decides if they let him go or try to follow him. If they try to follow him, they will enter combat. The Inquisitor will defeat Marelas, and will have the opportunity to submit him to judgement. As a result of the judgement, the Inquisitor may a) execute him, b) imprison him, c) make him tranquil and have him work for the Inquisition or d) release him without his research notes.

If Marelas is executed or made tranquil, Hawen’s clan in the Exalted Plains disappears and the Inquisitor is unable to access Din’an Hanin if the area has remained unexplored.

If Marelas has been imprisoned, his Keeper will ask the Inquisitor to release Marelas to them in a war table mission. Josephine suggests asking the Dalish for something of value in return. Leliana advises to keep Marelas as leverage. Cullen argues that entering a potential conflict with the Dalish over one elf is not worth their time or resources and suggests to return Marelas without further conditions. Taking Josephine's route will garner the Inquisition a new and unique rune. Clan Elnora's Keeper states: "We value our knowledge, but one of the People will always take precedent. I trust this sharing of knowledge will keep our relationship amiable." This route will, however, also incur in a loss of approval with Haven's clan. The rewards for Cullen's route are the same as the one for Josephine's, but without the drawbacks. If Leliana's option is taken, a small group of Dalish elves will infiltrate Skyhold to try and free Marelas, and manage to escape with him. Clan Elnora denies any knowledge of the plan and Leliana's spies confirm that the group wasn't traveling back to clan Elnora. Leliana suspects this may be a smoke screen, but without further proof, the Inquisition's hands are tied.

If Marelas is made tranquil, a similar war table mission will be available. Josephine and Leliana will counsel the same approach. Cullen however will deem it too dangerous to give a Dalish clan access to a powerful enchanter and suggest placing Marelas under watch. If Josephine's route is chosen, the Inquisitor receives a powerful mage armor. The clan had made it for Marelas, to take on when he returned, but now he will never get to wear it. If Leliana's or Cullen's options are taken, a small group of Dalish elves tries to free Marelas, but fails. Both Marelas and the would-be liberators die in the ensuing scuffle.

[illgiveyouahint]

why is it that I feel more bi when I am tipsy or similar. I mean today I had a fairly bi experience, I met my lesbian step cousin and her wife and that was a pretty cool experience because a) it’s like when you meet fellow queers/gays (I write this in thinking about the all of us strangers conversation when they’re discussing gay va queer conversation. I feel like I would say queer more than gay because growing up people would be like oh that’s so gay etc) and also haven’t seen them in several years. Not close to them but they just seem like nice people. The other bi experience is, is that her sibling is really good looking and it was hard to keep a conversation because he was so good looking. Also as I write this I was not drunk when I was at this step family event but I’d still say bi experience cause gay step cousin and wife etc. it’s also nice when you meet fellow people who identify as that. I realise I’m repeating myself and it’s kinda like verbal vomit so I hope you understand what I’m saying here.

Hello my dear anon,

hmm from your situation explained here and if you are the same anon who occasionally comes to my box it it seems to me that maybe you don't meet queer people quite so often and so that might be why you're a bit overwhelmed when you do meet some. And when you're drunk you allow yourself to let your emotions flow more freely than they would when you're sober.

While I haven't had alcohol in over a decade i do remember how it made some of the feelings deep inside me come more to the surface. In my case it meant I would get more depressive and generally alcohol didn't make me feel better or more fun. But for you it just might be that you allow yourself to feel all the bi feelings that are stuck inside you.

I also remember in my early days of my bi-hood that I would often examine and question and be surprised when I got struck with sudden BI FEELS. There still some old posts here somewhere or maybe still in my drafts about me seeing two people - man and a woman dance on the dance floor and not knowing whether I'd want to rather dance with him or her. Or seeing a girl smile at me in a metro and thinking about it weeks and months later etc.

In any case I don't know your situation or where you live so idk how possible it would be for you but I do think you'd benefit from meeting other queer people and befriend them. I feel like getting bunch of queer friends and hanging out regularly has really helped me feel more at ease in my bisexuality and allowed me the freedom to feel whatever I want to feel. So if you live in a populous area maybe try searching for some local queer communities. It doesn't have to be a club. But like I have my queer student association where I met all my friends. We have a queer community center in my city. There's queer dnd groups. There's a queer group that just goes on hikes together. there's a queer religious group. Like yes my country is small and I live in the main city. But I know there's now also so many local groups in all the various smaller cities in my country. What I'm saying that even here in my little country there's so many options so maybe look if there's some in your area that sound interesting. I think you'd benefit from that.

Good luck on your bi journey and feel free to come to my askbox anytime (or you can always message me if you ever want to talk in private)

[bironism]

given the url and all, i don’t talk about byron nearly enough and it could just do with the reason i like him -- not why i started to, why i like him as of now -- which is utterly embarrasing. i really like the way his later poems sound a bit defeated, like that one when he’s thirty-six or the one in which we’ll go no more a-roving, although i think the tone of looking back at that which is no longer to be touched ever again is particularly touching (ha) about his oeuvre - in childe, well, sometimes i think it’s all a distraction from this, though it’s also palpable in the nostalgic poem about the tree from his schoolboy days, & in near anything about a past lover. it’s so peculiar, but these moments aren’t played for cheap tragedy and left to resonate on their own. there’s a sincerity so fragile it could be killed by crescendoing in on one word. one keeps making fun of one’s feats especially when they were inspired. the utter foolishness in being inspired by what one sees as greatness. for all the talk of b the rebel and revolutionary i think he’s awfully backwards a lot of the time. aren’t we all. well. nevermind. i can’t fucking get over the occasional tenderness especially when it becomes discarded quickly. i’m also really into queering gender and consider being a bitch to people a commendable pastime. i get a particular kick out of his situationally femme heroes and homotextuality. i kind of like his heroines too, the more vicious the better, i’m not a prude. actually i kind of like that manfred hints at inc*st cause had the affair been taboo for the reasons they’re taboo in victorian fiction i would’ve punched a wall in raging disappointment. it’s also uh, relatable to what i feel as unspeakable in myself et cetera. there’s too much speculation on what b meant or what it meant to him & not to be a new critic or anything but sometimes i don’t care & especially when the texts mean something to me. 

[justalazywriter]

Hcs | Tobirama | relationship headcannons| mostly Gn!reader

Warning: none

Requests are open

➢Masterlist

A/n: idk why but I think this is written so bad;-; but I'm a professional at self criticism anyways lol

At first he isn't much into physical love language or verbal instead you'll make up to breakfast in bed when he has a free day or little notes even with a flower if he's feeling like it

He's just not used to verbally or physically expressing love so you'll have to slowly ease him into it

Start in private when you're both sitting together , holding hands or leaning on his shoulder .

After some time he'll initiate holding hands and hugs by himself. With cuddles ? He's akward at first not knowing where to place his hands or stuff but after you help him and he sees you're enjoying it (Wich means he's doing it right) it'll be much more common

Even to the point where you bring food into this overworking man's office and you'll end up sitting on his lap and fall asleep while he does his paperwork

Coming to the next point , tobirama appreciates if you bring him food when he's working knowing he forgets to eat and take a break (he only takes them when you come around and he'll talk with you for some minutes )

On free days and after he is used to cuddling expect to be pulled back into bed just because he wants to chill with you there for a bit longer

He won't go back to sleep then but yeah , he'll just lay there and enjoy your presence

Something tells me he gets more open to giving verbal love when he is really tired out and he might be convincible to be the little spoon in cuddling then

Can he cook? Yes , perfectly even . On free days you'll sometimes find him cooking for you both

After some times tobirama gets an extremely soft spot for you and he'll be completely different from the cold self he shows others

Initiating cuddles , coming home for dinner (brings his work with him) , getting more free days to spend with you and even saying I love yous more than before (it's still rare but not as super rare as before)

Nightwalks? You'll have to convince him since you could run into danger and get hurt but he'll say yes if he's coming with you and you're not going to wander off the village far

Now if you're friends with any Uchiha or worse Madara , tobirama will be jealous and so on but you seem to enjoy being friends with them so he'll keep it low . He just doesn't want you to get hurt by them

If they dare to hurt you ... Yeah let's just say they'll be gone missing

Tobirama is overprotective but he knows to control it and not act like it everytime (is this even a thing? Idk)

He is more of a cat person but he would get along with dogs too if they are calm enough. But he doesn't necessarily want a pet still if you want one , he'll allow it and care for it too

As for kids , it'll take long till he would be ready to get one or 2 and if you don't want one he would accept it

Dates with him are always fancy and impressive if he's feeling like making you go "wow"

But if you aren't a fan of it tobirama will enjoy sitting under a tree and eating takeout with you too . Or a nice picnic even tho it has to be a place where people don't go often

Imagine seeing the mighty tobirama doing such "childish thing" yeah he thinks it would ruin his reputation

For the female fellows he knows what period is and what you need , he won't be grossed out at the normal bloodstains and stuff but he'll be confused and helpless about the moodswings for the first few times

In public he is acting more subtle in lovelanguage depending on how many people are around and paying attention to the both of you

This will change if someone is trying to hit on you. The person must be extremely drunk or dumb to hit on his lover. As soon as he sees you're clearly uncomfortable and they won't stop hell be at your side and a hand at your waist pulling you closer to him while giving them a deathglare

Now imagine if an Uchiha hit on you like that? While you're passing by next to them tobirama will casually whisper a threat like "next time you try it you'll be dead" and then act like he didn't just threaten them and buy you something you cheer you up if they made you feel down

Anyways , i hate it but hope you like it?

If you got tips to improve drop them in the comments and leave a like if you enjoyed it

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 7

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lunch with Bucky was spent in a little Italian place right across the bar. It belonged to a seventy-year old Italian immigrant named Marco who invested in it with nothing but his savings when he first came to New York. Fifteen years later, his little dining place stood still through its ups and downs. In fact, business was getting stronger for Marco ever since the bar opened.  His target customers expanded from fellow immigrants to little boys who played soccer in the little league and finally to drunk bastards who wanted pizza in the middle of the night. He also started putting up a 24/7 sign and hired more people to work for him. Marco gave me a sympathetic smile as soon as he passed by you with a bottle of hot sauce he knew you liked.

"Where's the hunk?" His Italian accent never faltered. "Ditched ya?"

Lunch with Bucky was also cut short when he received a phone call from Leonard about an emergency in the White Wolf. "It's Leonard." He said. "Gotta get back to the hotel." Then you slipped in a tiny question, seeing a different phone on his hand: "Is that your phone? I thought you left it in your penthouse, that's why you crashed into our apartment."

"I borrowed Peter's old phone when we did our little fiancè act back there. Then I got my phone back after I ate all that food."

"And here you are again eating."

"Not anymore, I'm not." He chuckled, getting up from the chair and throwing his napkin gently on the table. "I gotta go, doll. Duty awaits. I'll see you around."

You were left there with two plates of pasta, one large pizza, and a hundred dollar bill that covered the whole meal. "Plus tip." Bucky then fled and hailed a cab. He gave you one last look and a small salute before getting inside then off he went.

"He had some business work to do." You replied. "Can I take these to-go please? Oh, and here." You handed Marco the hundred dollar bill and said something you have never said (not once!) in your entire life. "Keep the change."

Marco grinned, took the money and placed it inside his apron pockets. "Any chance you got four more of this?"

"Hey, that's with the tip already!" You playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back on the chair. "And you should ask the hunk that. Not me."

He started taking some plates off the table, his back a bit hunched as he did. "Who was that anyway? Finally replaced that old boyfriend of yours?"

"Old boyfriend? Marco, I'm single. Oh no, you're not at that stage now, are you?" It was meant as a joke but you did genuinely care for the old guy.

Marco stopped from picking up the plates and stood taller. "What ya talking 'bout?"

"You know," you whispered, "the forgetful stage."

"Oh fuck off." You earned a glare from him then continued to pick up the plates from the table before wiping it clean. A mother covered her three-year-old daughter's ears, with pasta noodles falling out of her mouth. She said something to Marco but was overpowered by his voice. A man in his 40's kept looking at you and Marco, probably wondering what the fuss was all about. "I'm still young!" He added. "And you know who I'm talking about. The guy you live with."

You scoffed and gave him an unbelievable look as you watched him clean, avoiding the stares people were starting to give. "That's not my boyfriend, Marco." You whispered.

"What? He's not?"

"He's my roommate." You took a sip of your bottled water. "We're roommates, nothing more."

"Well, good. I like the hunk better than that skinny roommate of yours." He bellowed laughing, holding his big, round belly. His voice echoed against the walls.

"Wait, so you thought Peter was my boyfriend this whole time?" You genuinely asked.

"Well, yeah! You were always together eating and whatnot. What was I supposed to think?"

You were supposed to argue with Marco that it was okay to be friends with someone of the opposite gender: to platonically hangout twenty-four seven, have pizza nights, movie nights, and all the things couples do but in a very platonic way. But Marco was an old man who stubbornly clung to his ancient beliefs. You didn't want to light a fire you and him. Besides, you were still on your way to earning his trust and getting a friend discount.

"Unbelievable." You mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear it. Despite his old age, Marco still had the ears of a twenty-year old.

"You and me, both. All the time I was thinking to myself, you could do better!"

Oh, God. I know where this is going. You thought. "I'm not letting you set me up with your son, Marco."

"Why not?"

"Because he's old." You groaned, wishing he would just clear the table and just get it on with your to-go Italian food.

"So was that hunk you were with!"

Tired of all the back and forths, you sighed. "Marco, can't you just give me the food? I still have work to do."

"Yeah, yeah, aight. Don't nag me." Marco grunted. "You sounding like my ex-wife back there." His voice faded once he went back towards the counter, and started placing the food in the little to-go boxes.

Your phone on the table lit up. A text message from Peter asking you if you were still with Bucky. You replied back instantly that he went back to the White Wolf. You received no more messages from him after that.

A few seconds later, a figure approached and stopped right in front of you. You looked up and saw one of your friends who also did photography back in college.

"Wanda?"

Wanda flashed you that sweet smile of hers that reminded you of chocolates, rainbows, and unicorns.

"Aria! Wow, it's so nice to see you!" She crouched down to envelope you in a warm hug, then sat across from you, where Bucky was sitting a few minutes ago. She placed her small, shiny purse right on the table, her painted nails never letting it go. "I was just walking down the street and then saw you from the window. How are you? It's been quite long, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm doing good." Wanda could be such a Chatty Cathy. She was the kind of person that never let silence take over a room. If you memory served you right, you haven't seen each other since you graduated from college. She was a year younger than you and even though you stayed in New York the whole time, you never bothered to visit her at NYU Tisch during her last year. "How about you? How have you been doing?"

"I'm doing real good too! I actually set up my own studio a year ago in Manhattan after being a wedding photographer. I now photograph models, sometimes I do photowalks. I also hold photo exhibits from time to time." Unlike you, Wanda chose to follow her passion and majored in Photography and Imaging. "It's been really fun!"

Albeit feeling happy for her, a pang of jealousy struck you. You tried your best to ignore it and said: "That's great, Wanda. I'm so proud of you. You've come a long way since then."

She grinned. "I did, yeah. How about you? How's the business thing?"

You pursed your lips. "I'm actually juggling two jobs right now. I bartend at that bar over there," you pointed across the street, "and I also started a photography business." You continued. "I just do product photos for small businesses."

It was nothing big like Wanda's. Actually, it wasn't anything compared to her Manhattan studio and photowalks and photo exhibits. Nothing at all.

Her jaw dropped. Eyes wide. "Bartending? Wow! That doesn't sound like you at all!"

You chuckled then shook your head. "Who would've thought, huh? But it's pretty convenient and it pays half of my rent."

"You're still living with the Parker guy?"

"Actually, yes I still am." You replied. "But it's just the two of us now."

"Nothing more comforting than a familiar face around, huh?" She answered. "Oh hey, it's great you're still doing photography. I thought it was just a hobby of yours."

"I fell in love with it more during college, you know that."

Wanda just nodded her head in response then looked at her wrist watch. "Right. Well, this has been fun but I have a meeting to go to at some company who wants to talk about collaborations and stuff. You know the drill." She stood up from the chair, its legs scraping the wooden floors. "It was really nice to see you, Aria. I hope we can see each other again soon."

You mirrored her and stood up, reaching for a hug. "It's nice to see you too, Wanda." You let her go, then rambled. "I'm just in the bar if you ever wanna grab a drink or maybe coffee or lunch or anything, really."

"I will." She replied.

Before walking out, Wanda placed her hand on your shoulder, matched with a tight-lipped smile; like the gesture of someone towards a family member at one's funeral. Funnily enough, it was kind of appropriate. Your career in photography might as well be dead. You haven't received any work inquiry in over a month now, and some businesses have been rejecting your photography services. It was the classic "it's not you, it's me" scenario. They just found someone better.

With Wanda out of sight, you drained your thoughts and continued to stare at the moving cars on the streets. Getting you out of your trance was Marco tapping you on the shoulder.

"You alright there, kid?" He asked while handing you a plastic bag full.

"Yeah, sorry." You answered. "Just got distracted." You relieved him of your to-go food, grabbing it from his calloused hands.

"I know that kid you were talking to."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah, yeah. She photographed my son's wedding."

"The one you kept setting me up with?"

"Not that old bastard." He answered, frowning. "The younger, hotter one. With all the cheekbones and the eyes. Got them from me." Marco looked like a taller Danny DeVito. You doubted this "younger, hotter one" of his looked anything like Marco. "She also photographed my daughter's wedding."

"Jesus. How many children do you have?"

"Five." He chuckled. "I got some great swimmers."

You made a guttural sound and rolled your eyes. "Oh, God. Did not need to know that. Anyway, I gotta go. See you around, Marco." With that, you started to walk out and headed straight to the apartment.

There was nothing much to do once you got in the apartment besides putting the leftovers inside the fridge. The bar usually opened at four in the afternoon for happy hour so you took a short nap and was able to clear you head of all the things that happened overnight.

You woke up at about three in the afternoon and headed down the bar. By the time you got there, Nick was already inside, arranging the tables and chairs that were turned upside down.

"Hey, you got in early today." You greeted him as you approached the bar counter.

Nick looked up, hands still wrapped around a table. "Yeah well, I can't let you be employee of the month every single time."

"Living right above the bar does have some of its perks." You chuckled, grabbing an apron. "Need help with those?"

He answered no but his actions said otherwise. You jogged towards him and lifted the other side of the table, placing it on the floor without making much of a sound. You walked towards the other tables then started lifting one, praying to God you won't let it slip away from your arms but of course, you still had no luck on your side. Once Nick asked you that one question ("Do you want to go on a date with me?") you didn't want to hear, you dropped the table on your right foot. Bam! You stifled the sound of pain that itched your throat. Nick shuffled towards me and asked me if you were okay. You gently shrugged him off, telling him that it was nothing and that you you recently had a concussion less than twenty-four hours ago, this was absolutely nothing.

"You sure?" He asked. His hand gripped my waist, trying to maintain my balance.

"Yes, Nick." You straightened up and tried to stretch your right foot, checking if it was sprained or not. Thankfully, it was still good for running.

He let go of you then scratched the back of his head. His eyes focused on the wooden floors. "That was not a good time to ask that."

"I don't think there was ever a good time to ask that."

"Is that a no?"

Your mind recalled the conversation you and Peter had at the elevator: "Never dip the pen in company ink, right?"

Yes, it was easier to let him down easy with no one else around. You could also tell him you'll think about it but either way, you'd still be spending the remaining minutes in the bar with the fleeting awkwardness hanging in the air. But the silence was becoming heavier each second you weren't saying anything so you just shut your mind for a second and said: "Is it okay if I think about it first?"

"Yes. Sure. Of course!" He replied, finally meeting your eyes. "Just let me know. You know where to find me. Just here in the bar. 'Cause I work here."

"I know, Nick." You snickered. "I work here too."

"Right, right." He shook his head. "I'm just gonna..." He trailed off, pointing to the tables with his thumb.

"Yeah, I'll just..." You didn't know where else to go so you just made up an excuse. "I'll just be in the kitchen."

"What are you gonna do there?"

"I think there are still some shipments there? From earlier?" Lie. "I'll take care of them. Don't worry."

"O-okay."

And with that, you left Nick arranging tables and chairs while you headed towards the kitchen, sat on the floor and scrolled through different social media platforms before one of the cooks entered the kitchen. You ignored the befuddled look she gave you. It was the sign to  stand up and walk out of the kitchen. So you did.

Once Peter walked in the doors, you grabbed a bottle of beer and removed the bottle cap. You greeted him with a smile and placed his drink on the counter. "Hey, Parker. Guess what?"

"Hey, y/n." He smiled, sitting on the stool and placing his briefcase on the counter. He immediately grabbed the beer bottle and took his first sip. "Nick finally asked you out?"

"You don't know the rules to the 'Guess What' game, do you?"

"Oh, I know the rules." He replied. "I'm just a born rule breaker. So," he stared at his beer bottle scratching the sticker with his thumbs, "did you say yes?"

"I told him I'll think about it."

"And you've thought about it?"

"Yes."

"...and?"

"I'm gonna tell him no." You walked away from Peter, pouring beer from the beer tap into a beer mug for one of the regulars who just walked in. "It's kind of hard to work with someone you're dating or you've dated. I mean, you learned that the hard way, right?"

Peter groaned, reminiscing the time he dated his co-worker, a certain Denise, for six months, stringing her along for a couple more before dumping her. He couldn't even begin to describe how much hatred Denise had for Peter. One night, you found Peter on the rooftop, writing his resignation letter. Of course, you had to throw it after sneaking up on him behind his back. Apparently, Peter couldn't take any more of Denise's death stares during meetings, lunch breaks, and any time she was around Peter. Luckily, Denise got fired the next day for some legal dispute. Peter drank his whole night away that very day and you ended up taking care of him. The next day, you told him everything he'd done that night except one thing: trying to kiss you.

"Hey," Peter hissed, "here he comes. Good luck." He swiftly left his briefcase and beer bottle on the counter, hurrying his way towards the toilet.

You gave Nick a small smile once he opened the counter pass-through. "Nick. Hi."

"Y/n. Hi!"

"So, about the thing earlier -- "

"Can I get a beer?" Interrupted a man on your left side but you couldn't care less. You put up your hand in front of his face. "In a mug!"

Before you could even say "I'm sorry, Nick, but I can't date a co-worker. It's just not right. But you're great. Not just with me" the man shooed your hand away. "Hey! The hell is this?"

You groaned. "You'll get your beer in just one moment, okay?"

The man huffed and left the counter then sat on a nearby table, flipping me off. You rolled your eyes at him and brought your attention back to Nick who was still waiting for your answer. While halfway through your short speech you have been preparing in your head, he interrupted with a: "Yeah, yeah, I know where this is going. It's fine. It's alright. I understand. I'll let you get back to work."

He started turning around but you immediately stopped him. "So this is okay, right? No weird tension between us, or something like that?"

He nodded his head and sent you a warm smile. "Yeah, everything's good. At least I tried, y'know. I'll, uh, see ya around 'cause y'know -- "

"You work here, yeah."

"Yeah. Well... " And with that, he treaded away towards the pass-through and approached some newcomers.

The man from earlier was still staring at you so you went ahead and opened the beer tap. Before the liquid even reached the top of the mug, a hand laid on top of the tap handle and turned the tap off.

"Now," Bucky's voice rang inside your ears, "how about you make me a mean drink, doll?"

[soliverse]

baby don’t like it - q.kn

pairing: royal au duke!kun x princess!reader ft my best girl, Irene of Red Velvet

genre: angst, much muuuch stronger than the last one

warnings: mentions of violence, cheating, cussing, alcohol consumption (again, nothing too explicit, just giving you a bit of a heads up.

word count: 3171

Prompts:

“Keep the change, ya filthy animal.” - Home Alone (weird choice, I know)

“Baby, whether rain or shine, naughty or nice. I'm by your side.” - Ariana Grande (Not Just On Christmas)

ps: did I just write another angst for another Christmas special?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Baby Don’t Like It is a part of my Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab with @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​. Once again, this is one of my first collabs and I am thankful for the approachable anons that let me join this event.

You can check the Walking In A Winter Wonderland event and the works of my fellow NCT writers over here!

networks: @nctcreations​ @kdiarynet @kpopscape

Men.

You’ve always hated them.

You’ve hated how your father treated your mother. You’ve hated how you’re treated all your life just because you’re not born as a man. You've always hated how they controlled every single decision in your life. You've hated how you're forced to marry someone you don't love for "the sake of our people".

But out of all the men that you hated; it was the one right in front of you.

As your assistants helped you get dressed, your husband was just sitting there on his phone, looking all nice and fine and smiling from ear to ear. He looked divine, suit garbed in black and red, making him look almost ethereal. Strands of his dark hair falls into his forehead, framing his perfect face even more. At the same time, he decided to wear his circular glasses, something that he did if he didn’t want to use his contact lenses.

Overall, his outfit made him look like one of those princes from those fairytale books that you had as a kid.

You can't help but roll your eyes, but you can't say whether it's from your assistants eyeing Kun or that he just HAD to be there to see you get dressed. After hours of getting ready, they placed a heavy tiara on your head as a finishing touch.

You stood up from your seat and twirled, making sure that everything looked perfect. You walked towards Kun and did a little wave to get his attention away from his phone. It didn’t work, so you walked closer to the couch and tapped his leg. This time, he shot up a look in your direction, still smiling.

“Oh hey. You good to go?”

You nodded as an answer. The two of you then made your way into your car, him being the driver. The car ride was eerily quiet. None can be heard except for other vehicles passing by and funky Christmas songs blasting from people outside. Well, there isn’t that much to talk about. You’ve spent every hour with each other that you feel like there’s more to share.

This is probably the reason why he suggested the event in the first place. Social events aren't really your thing, but at least it’s better than to stay at home and celebrate Christmas in silence. Or worse, spend it at your parents' mansion.

“Hey baby, cheer up a little.”

He was the first one to break the silence.

“Thank you for coming with me to the event. It means a lot to me.”

His voice was soft, just like it had always been whenever he’s talking to you. He moves closer from the other side of the and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. You never said anything. You just smiled at him in return, not really knowing what to say. It stayed that way until you reached the venue.

It was already a bit late at night and the whole city glistened from the twinkling lights that adorned it. The snow slowly falling down made your entrance to the party even more magical.

The car door has opened and cameras started flashing left and right. Dozens of paparazzi surrounded the area while the guards tried their best to keep them out. Kun made a point to wave to everyone, a move that everyone loved. You tried to force a smile as he wrapped his arms around your hips, feeling the silky fabric of the dress that you’re wearing.

Everyone greeted him, of course. His cheery self was acknowledged by everyone around him. Meanwhile, you just politely bowed at everyone else, forcing an awkward smile whenever someone tried to make interactions. They were probably bummed up that YOU had to go with, though. After all, Kun was the life of the party. The darling of the crowd. The Diana to your Charles.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our honorable guests for tonight. The main benefactor of Little Angels’ Children Hospital and the people behind this lovely event, Duke Kun and Her Highness Princess Y/N of the Northernshore.”

The crowd applauded as you made your way into the grand halls and took your place in the seat designated for the both you. It was a table that was isolated from everyone else, so the two of you are just stuck together. Sitting there was uncomfortable to say the least. You knew he wanted to mingle with people, but being the introvert that you are, he can’t leave you alone.

The program proceeded as usual. The children from the hospital sang some carols which touched everyone’s hearts. One of the cute little girls gave you a small figurine that she made. You gave her a warm hug before letting her join the other children on the stage. Kun, on the other hand, was trying his best to focus on the gala.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Not at all.” He chuckled awkwardly, sneaking peeking on his phone from time to time. You didn’t pay him that much attention and shifted your focus back to the kids. The host announced that dinner will be served soon and the program will resume right after. You felt the need to go to the bathroom and so you tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Some Christmas carol was playing overhead and so he leaned down to hear what you had to say.

“Excuse me for a second. I need to powder my nose.”

You shyly whispered in his ear. He again flashes a sweet smile before nodding. Other people are so standing up from their seats, taking this opportunity to mingle with other people while dinner is being prepared. The guards offered to go with you but you declined and insisted that they stayed with Kun. From far away, you can see a bunch of people enthusiastically going to his direction. You just sighed as you walked across the crowd of people with your head down.

As you’ve finally reached the bathroom, the first thing you did was lock the stall and breathe. You rested your head at the door for a few seconds before finally doing your business. You’ve heard some people entered the bathroom. Your ears perked up to listen at their conversation. To your relief, none of them talked about you. They didn’t take long inside, probably just touched up, and left the bathroom.

Making sure that no one is inside, you opened the door and proceeded to look at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t that bad. Your red silky dress complimented your body and skin well. There are strands of your hair cascading from your messy bun, but that just added to your look. You look fine. It’s just that in everything that you say and do, everything pales in comparison to your husband. Opening the sink, you washed your hands and tried to snap out of Grinch mode. After all, it’s almost Christmas. You should be having fun.

///

After leaving the bathroom, this time with a much jollier attitude, you saw Kun sitting in the same table. This time, he was with a woman. A woman that you knew pretty well.

Minji used to be your bestfriend during highschool. She was the only one kind enough to talk to you and actually get to know you as a person. Unfortunately, things changed just as soon as you reached college. Kun was a junior at that time and he became the guide that toured the freshmen throughout the university. Minji has been whipped ever since and Kun returned the favor.

Her family aren’t a part of the royals, which meant they can’t be together. A fact that had always pained you whenever you think about it. A part of you still felt guilty upon breaking the former couple apart. You never had the guts to faced Minji and so you made your way towards the open bar. Maybe some drinks will help you clear your head.

Trying to hide from other people and the guards, you picked a seat just right at the farthest corner of the open bar. You sat at one of the counters and ordered whatever drink that can get you drunk the fastest. You downed the drink fast, not even minding the harsh taste that it leaves as soon as it hits your tastebuds.

A voice suddenly interrupted your drinking session. You tried to hide your face to avoid being recognized, but the woman still sat down right next to you.

“A princess shouldn’t be drinking like that.”

“Excuse me?”

You finally turned around, casually flashing a playful smile at you. Your eyes grew wider at the sudden realization of who she is.

“Irene! It’s been ages!”

You almost spilled your drink to the floor as you stood up to hug one of your old college pals.

“It’s been forever, and yet you still act like a royal novice.”

The lass never changed. She was still her snobby self, a trait that you used to hate before you came to realize that that’s just her quirk.

The two of you are almost squealing before finally letting go of each other. You sat back down excitedly before pouring yourself another drink.

“Okay. Why are you here?”

“Remember Suho? The doctor? Well, he’s thinking doing business with the hospital. He’s making it some sort of an extension.”

"I still couldn’t believe that you got married." You said while chuckling. The old Irene had always had this intimidating aura to her that no boy ever dared to talk to her. It’s something that the two of you had in common.

"I could say the same about you."

Irene snickered as she motioned the bartender to bring more drinks for the two of you.  She casually grabbed her wine glass, being the classy lady that she is, and took a bit of a sip at her sparkling champagne, eyeing you shadily like there’s something she’s trying to tell you.

“I see that your husband is having fun without you.”

You just sighed as a response.

“Royals are for royals, Y/N. Minji isn’t born with a title.That is not your fault. Keep your head high for fuck’s sake. You’re THE Princess.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, preparing to talk her down to filth. However, her phone lit up from a phone call that she's receiving.

"I'm gonna have to leave you for a sec. It's Suhyun's babysitter."

She gave an apologetic smile before grabbing her purse from the counter and finishing the last of her drink.

"I’ll be back in a moment.”

She tossed a wink at your direction before you’re left alone in the bar once again. You started drinking once again when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Thinking it was Irene, you turned around and was about to talk smack to her. Instead, it was your husband. He grabbed you by your wrist and took you to an empty storage room nearby.

“The guards have been looking for you everywhere.”

His voice was low, but you can tell that he’s incredibly pissed.

"I just needed a drink to lighten myself up. Figured you need some time to hang out with your colleagues without your boring wife tagging along."

“You’re glad that I found you first. What would the media say if they saw the princess drinking like she’s in a college frat party?”

You just rolled your eyes at him and tried to free your hand from his tightening grip.

“I want to go home.”

“You are not going home in the middle of the event!”

You scoffed.

“Yes, I can. I’m the Princess. Just tell them I feel sick or something.”

You finally managed to escape his grasp and you walked out of the storage room by yourself and walked back into the. Sure enough, you used your acting lessons to feign an illness. The guards took charge immediately and escorted you back to the car. It caused a bit of a scene, so it didn’t take long before Irene found you. She whispered something in your ear and you just nodded.

“Change of plans boys. I’m going to we’re going to the hospital.”

///

"Wakey-wakey…”

Kun felt a sudden surge of pain running through his body. His vision was blurry, pupil still adjusting to the light blaring through his face. Despite this, he can definitely see one thing. It was a silhouette of a woman.

"Ugh… Who are you?"

Moans and groans escaped his busted lips, the taste of metal fills his mouth. Not only was his mouth filled with his own blood, he was struggling to talk because of the dryness in his throat. He tried to move but his body felt sore. His arms and feet were tied up to this chair, making it impossible for him to get up.

The last thing that he remembered is that he is on a car ride somewhere, until his own guards pointed their guns at him.

The woman just laughed as a response. She walked towards him, dragging something heavy behind her. The screeching sound coming from the friction of the floor and metal stings in his ear.

Suddenly, he felt a hand run up to his shoulder into his neck making all of the hair in his body stand up. He had never felt more scared in his life. He felt her face lean over and whispered something to his ear.

"You know very well who I am Kun."

"Irene…"

The woman laughed once again. It sounded darker and more maniacal than earlier.

"I'm glad you remembered you my name after all these years. However, I'm afraid I’d have to cut this reunion short."

Just as she stood up, another silhouette appeared from the dark. The tapping of the back of her heels filled echoed across the hospital room, completely stealing your attention from Irene.

This time, he's certain about who it is.

"When you said that you'll make my problems disappear, this isn't what I had in mind."

You took the coat off of your body, letting in fall to the floor. He was about to beg you to release him, but he noticed something.

You had that dangerous look in you. Your blank cold stare even scarier than Irene's. The typical shy demeanor was dropped and instead replaced by those of predator. Someone that wants to eat him alive and make him disappear in the face of the Earth.

"I had a little fun with him already, if you don't mind.”

Irene walked towards your direction, smiling from ear to ear seeing her old friend back like this.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you here darling. Suhyun and her father is probably looking for mommy right now. Call me when you need me.” She gave you a delicate peck on your cheek before walking away from the room.

Now, the two of you are left alone. Silence once again peeks in as the two of you just stared at each other. Even up until now, that never changed.

This time, you’re the first one to speak up.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re in this situation.”

You took one of the seats and dragged it just a few meters in front of him. You sat down, leaned back while your arms and legs are crossed.

“I know about the affair between you and Minji.”

“Baby, please. It’s nothing...”

He used his sweet voice again, but to you it sounded more like teeth-rotting sugar. That sickly sweet taste that made you want to gag.

“Oh, stop the bullshit. I know about ALL of the affairs.”

You finally stood up from your seat and held your right hand up in the air.

“Let’s see. There’s Rosie, Jessica, Heather…” You spouted more names, taking down a finger every time you mentioned one. Kun is now looking even more uncomfortable. This time, it was his turn to look down, hiding the guilt-ridden expression of his face. Your finger touched his chin, tipping his face up in your direction.

“Wanna know how I knew?”

You poked your tongue in your cheeks and rolled your eyes before giving him one hard slap on his cheek.

“It’s because of those damn glasses! I can see every lewd picture that they send you, asshole!”

You look down at his direction and you saw tears running down from his face. He was trying his best not to sob because his own mouth betrayed him.

“What, baby? you don’t like being slapped in the face? Isn’t that what you wanted Minji to do to you whenever you’re fucking at the manor when I’m at business trips?”

The last sentence made you choke on your words. The combination of seeing Kun crying and the recollection of memories made you a bit soft. Your legs shook, making you kneel down on the ground and sob like a little girl when someone had taken her toys away from her.

“Why did it have to be Minji?”

“I-I’m sorry Y/N. Please… Let me fix this.”

You wiped you tears away just as you dropped this bombshell.

“Why did it have to be her? My first love?”

Picking yourself from the floor, you went back to where your discarded coat is. You wiped your tears out with the sleeves of the coat while you rummaged through its pockets.

“I can’t stand it. Even when you married me, she ‘s still stupidly in love with you.”

“W-wait… What do you mean?”

“Minji used to be my pretty little angel. You just had to turn her into your slutty mistress, don’t you?”

You felt something hard on your right pocket. It was the gun that Irene left you earlier at the party. Right beside it was your phone, blowing up with notifications of people greeting you a Merry Christmas as the clock just turned 12:00 a few minutes ago.

“It’s a sad thing that this will be our last Christmas together.”

You said once again, finally calmed down from the tears that you have just shed a few moments ago. Kun was now shouting at his seat, finally aware of what you’re about to do.

“You are not gonna get away with this!”

“Oh. But I will…”

You smirked at him once again.

“If I killed you right now, Irene and his men would take care of your body and discard it without anyone noticing. They do it all the time. If people suspect that I did something to you, I can just say that I went to the hospital to get treated. They have logs and cameras over here to back up my claims.”

You cocked the gun in your hands and started pointing it to his temples.

“..And as for you baby, text records show that you’re about to run away with Minji tonight. All of your other secrets will be exposed and people will finally see what you really are…”

You took a deep breathe before mustering up the courage to pull the trigger.

“Merry Christmas baby. I’m sure they’d appreciate charity events in hell.”

[angelsswirl]

American Style

Chapter 2: Vegas Lights

Wrd Cnt: 1k+

Rating: M

The lies and affectations. Sensation. We're winning 'til the curtain's coming down.

"You'll never believe who I met at work last night?" You threw your rather expensive purse down onto the sofa next to your roommates.

You kicked off your shoes near the front door then threw yourself across said roommates lap's. One of them let out a grunt, but otherwise didn't say anything.

"Lisa Manoban, Park Rosé, and Bae Irene?" Doyeon answered easily. She yanked her arms from underneath your thighs.

"How'd you know?" Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. You normally didn't tell either of your roommates about your clientele out of respect for their privacy. There's no way that Doyeon could have just gotten that on the first try.

"It's all over twitter." Ryujin, her other roommate, handed her phone to the woman laying across her lap.

This was the routine, you would get home, normally around 5:00 a.m., maybe pick up breakfast for the three of you, then get back to the apartment, and hangout until Ryujin and Doyeon left for the day.

Ryu had been right, there were a few paparazzi photos of the three of them entering the building, none seemed to depict them leaving, however.

"Ugh, Jeremy's going to be in so much trouble. Normally, he does a way better job of keeping those vultures away." You handed Ryujin her phone back with a tired sigh.

"So, whose mind did Royalty blow into a million horny peices?" Doyeon asked with a smirk encompassing the whole of her face. She even muted the television none of them were watching for extra assurance.

"I wouldn't say I blew her mind, but I gave Lisa Manoban a lap dance because it's my job." You made sure to point those last words at Doyeon. For some reason, Doyeon's been in perpetual matchmaker mode since you met, and that was when you were all 14.

"If you didn't blow her mind, where's your bra?" Ryu asked with a suspicious raise to her eyebrow.

You scoffed loudly, "How did you even notice that?!"

"I notice everything."

"Fine! I may have stuffed it in her pocket as a parting gift." You crossed your arms over your chest protectively, a small pout forming on your now plain lips.

"Oh my God! You did blow her mind!" Doyeon shouted, an accusing finger pointed in your direction.

"You're into her." Ryu's revelation is way softer in execution, but just as accusatory and astonished.

"Why? Just because I stuffed my bra in her pants pocket?"

"No. Because you took off your bra in the first place." Ryujin answered smoothly. Doyeon nodded along slowly. They all knew the implications but know one seemed keen to elaborate.

You rolled your eyes and huffed, "Fine. You win again. I might be a tiny bit into her, but it doesn't matter."

"And why doesn't it matter?"

"Hello, Shin Ryujin. My name's Y/N Y/LN. Would you like a copy of my business card? Yes, I know it says Royalty, but don't worry, that's my stage name. I'm a stripper. Nice to meet you."

"No. You're an exotic dancer. Say it with me. 'Exotic dancer'." Doyeon spoke slowly. You promptly ignored her.

"That's only a problem because you're making it a problem." Ryujin said softly.

You shook your head, "She was so sweet and nervous. She seemed to be genuinely interested in me. Not Royalty. In me. But she doesn't even know my actual name. I'm never going to see her again. I'm fine with that." You shrugged harshly.

"Why do you insist on lying to your best friends?"

You don't answer.

"And she does know your name."

"What?" You sat up, your eyes zeroing in on Ryujin. She winced at the elbows digging into her thigh.

"I sew your name into all of your lingerie so those bitches you work with can't steal it. So, assuming she's smart enough to look at the tag, she knows your name." Ryujin's face suggested she thought this was completely normal.

"You sewed my name into my bras and panties? She's going to think I'm a narcissist. Good going, Ryujin." You plopped back down, this time groaning into your hands.

"That's our Jinjin. Always looking out for her besties!" Doyeon patted Ryu's shoulder placatingly.

"Now, you can wait for her to find you and then you can fuck into the sunset or whatever."

"Or just finish what you started back at the club. Or did you already finish?" Doyeon giggled at her own joke. Ryujin didn't giggle, but she did want to know the answer.

"Doesn't talking about your fellow singer like this make you uncomfortable?" You asked pointedly.

Doyeon rolled her eyes, "That would imply we actually get a deal soon."

An odd look passed over your face. Ryujin eyed her best friend with a sympathetic frown, "You could get a deal soon too. So people can see you. You're still good. Still better range and rhythm than Doyeon."

"Hey!"

You only shook your head. It was just too late for you.

Lisa had been trying to fight off this headache since she had woken up that morning.

She had tried fighting it off during breakfast, during their morning meeting where Jungwook yelled at them, (Well, Jungwook had mainly yelled at Irene, and she seemed more mad that they had gotten caught than anything else. It was safe to say that Jisoo was still Jungwook's favorite), during rehearsals, and now when she's alone, save for her snoozing roommate.

Her memories from the previous night hadn't helped soothe the throbbing in her temples. In fact, they had did the opposite, and not just to her head. To her entire body.

Royalty did things to her entire body. They had spent maybe a total of 15 minutes together, and yet that had been enough time for Lisa to memorize every last one of the woman's dips and bumps and ridges and curves.

Really, it's no wonder that Lisa still has a hangover, because thinking about Royalty makes her feel a bit drunk.

It's something she's got to get over quickly. They're going to leave after their benefit concert the next day, and there's going to be little to no room for insignificant crushes on women she doesn't know.

And yet, Lisa still feels like she's got unfinished business. Lisa still feels like she's got to find this woman and at the very least talk, with all of their clothing on, over a cup of coffee.

She sat on the edge of the hotel bed soflty. Her suitcase, placed haphazardly in the corner, stared back at her.

Lisa reached over to it. Her hand finding its way into one of the small pockets on the side. She yanked out the peice of fiery red lace. A glance over her shoulder tells her Jenny is still asleep.

Maybe she's holding it differently then she had last night. Maybe it's fate. Who actually knows. Whatever it is pulls the tag of the garment free from its confines.

Property of Y/N "Royalty" Y/LN.

So, that's what she was supposed to do with a stripper's bra.

[somedayonbroadway]

Have you ever done oe thought about a Bandstand AU? Because I'm now obsessed.

Okay, so I was obsessed with Bandstand for a good six months after they performed at the Tonys. Kid you not, it was the only thing I listened to. For six months straight. And it still hasn’t gotten old.

Quick rant:

Corey Cott deserves a Tony.

Laura Osnes deserves a Tony.

The show deserved to at least be nominated for best musical, if not win the whole thing.

Dear Evan Hansen is great.

But it is nothing compared to Bandstand.

(Also, DEH won best orchestrations against Great Comet… like… what? Did the judges even see that show? DEH had like… a violin, a piano and a couple guitars. It hardly had orchestrations. Great Comet is a ****ing masterpiece of complex, insane music.)

End rant.

Anyways.

Bandstand AU

Characters

Jack Kelly — Donny Novitski (Piano)

Katherine Plumber — Julia Trojan (Singer)

David Jacobs — Wayne Wright (trombone)

Spot Conlon — Davy Zlatic (bass)

Racetrack Higgins — Jimmy Campbell (saxophone)

Crutchie Morris — Johny Simpson (drums)

Albert DaSilva — Nick Radel (trumpet)

Joseph Pulitzer — June Adams

Medda Larkin — Oliver

Bryan Denton — Jo

Specs — Michael “Rubber” Trojan

Okay, so…

Newly back home, Jack Kelly is having difficulty adjusting to life after the war. After losing his best friend from friendly fire, he’s guilt ridden. The minute Jack gets home, he’s bombarded with propaganda that everything would go back to the way it was before. He doesn’t believe that as he is now jobless, is struggling for money, is struggling hard with insomnia and PTSD.

As a composer, vocalist, accordion player and pianist, Jack begins to go to old clubs he used to perform at, only to find he’d been easily replaced. Finding an old friend, Medda, for whom he’d worked with before, he manages to secure gigs at weddings, getting slim money, just enough to eat and pay rent.

After a few weeks, he finds himself slowly losing it. He hears stories of soldiers’ funerals. Those guys came back fine a while ago.

They needed a way to make it stop.

Jack is on the verge of a breakdown. He can’t go a night without a drink. He can’t stop thinking about the war. About Specs.

He can’t get it out of his head.

He’s a genius and he knows it. He’s been musically inclined his whole life. He started playing when he was seven and he started composing when he was nine. And here he is, fifteen years later, still playing weddings. No one’s giving him a job. No one seems to care that he’s struggling or needs to play because if he can’t play, there’s nothing left for him.

But he hears about a contest on the radio. A contest for a swing band to compete in a contest as a tribute to the troops just back from the war.

In a moment of clarity, Jack decides that he’s going to put together a band made up of his fellow vets to shoot for fame and fortune, to show the vets that made it home that there’s hope for them.

So he takes a name that he remembers his best friend mentioned at one time, and he goes out to find a man about to play a gig at a club named Antonio Higgins who Specs had used to call Racer. Racer is a sax player, now studying to be a lawyer. While Race does try to send him away, he realizes that he might need this as much as Jack did and once he finds out that Specs is dead, he can’t say no. He’s doing this for Specs.

Race leads him to find more musicians who served. Spot, David, Crutchie and Albert.

Race doesn’t trust anyone.

Spot is an alcoholic, cracking jokes to get through the day as best he can.

David is OCD. He has clear schedules and plans out every minute of his day.

Albert is a control freak. He’s constantly irritated and just wants everything to be done the right way and for things to work out.

Crutchie lost a leg in the war as well as receiving brain damage in an accident that sent his vehicle flipping three times while he was in the war

Not all of them get along at first. But, for the sack of all of the vets that are losing hope in a post war world where there’s no place for them, they keep it together.

They get through their first gig together. All is well for about two minutes as Race tells Jack he’s glad he decided to play with him and Spot jokes around with Crutchie after Crutchie tells the guys about his meds and how they slow him down, asking him how much slower he can get without being put in reverse. Crutchie is very slow and goofy most of the time, unable to truly remember the events that occurred overseas, but he is a monster on drums. He doesn’t mind the jokes, in fact, he takes a liking to Spot.

It’s after this that Jack tells Albert he needs to come down off the ceiling while playing his solo, claiming that it’s selfish and out of line. Albert argues with him, sparking a bit of tension between the rest of the group. Albert then announced he has a chance to play with Dwight Anson Orchestra. Davey explains that Jack needs to work around his schedule. Albert says that they need to get paid.

Jack shoots back that the gigs they get are where and when they are going to play and he promises to try and give more of an advance in the future.

Once the others leave, Spot with Crutchie, trying to joke with him as he’s taken a liking to the youngest kid of the group, Race approaches Jack and tries to gently explain to him that he needs to learn how to talk to people if he’s gonna be a band leader. This sparks a small argument, almost leading to Race giving up and leaving, only resulting in Jack admitting that he has to do this for Specs.

He explains that Specs’s death was friendly fire and that he’d promised Specs should anything happen to him, he’d check in on his wife. Race advises Jack not to tell Specs’s wife how he died and tells him not to go to trial unless he was prepared to lose. Then he leaves, promising to see Jack for their next gig on Sunday.

So Jack goes to talk to Specs’s wife.

Katherine Plumber.

He knocks on the door before chickening out and turning to leave.

But he’s not quite fast enough.

Katherine laughs at him, accusing him of being too old for ding dong ditch. Jack laughs and shyly walks back, introducing himself as Spencer’s friend. Katherine’s smile fades and she asks him more questions, resulting in Jack telling her he has some pictures that might be of interest to her. Katherine invites him over for dinner.

Explaining to her father the situation, Joseph Pulitzer (yes, he’s very nice in this one. Deal with it.) he agrees to the dinner, telling Katherine that they won’t be great hosts. He tells Katherine to be careful and not to pry, that if Jack wants to tell her more information about Specs, he would.

So Katherine tries to respect the boundaries.

Katherine explains to her father that she feels selfish because sometimes she wishes she could be the same person she was before and that she doesn’t want to be defined as a Gold Star Wife. She used to have a life and she used to be somebody.

She pulls herself together when the knock on the door comes.

Joe welcomes Jack inside and Jack thanks him for his kindness while Katherine jokes that he works hard at being nice and explains that her mother is away visiting her grandparents.

While getting to know each other a little, Jack learns that Katherine can sing but she only sings a church and jokes that if he wanted to hear her sing, he’d have to go to a service. Katherine learns that Jack lost his parents when he was very young and has fended for himself ever since.

Eventually, they get around to looking at the pictures Jack brought. He tries to make the memories light.

But Katherine can’t help but ask if Jack was there when he’d died.

Jack tells her yes.

And Katherine can’t take it. So she excuses herself before dinner has even begun, leaving Jack and Joe to have dinner alone.

That Sunday, Jack finds himself at church, watching Katherine sing beautifully in front of an entire gathering of people.

He catches her afterwards, asking why she didn’t tell him that she got to perform the big finale. He then asks her if she’d like to see him and his band play that night, eventually convincing her that it might be fun.

Joe encourages her to go, telling her that she hasn’t been out since her husband had died. So she goes.

After watching their set, Katherine is surprised to be invited up onstage to sing a standard. She’s incredibly nervous, forgetting the bridge of the song but finishing strong with some encouragement from Jack. She meets the boys. She takes a liking to all of them, telling Davey that his family should be proud, joking along with Spot, immediately wanting to protect Crutchie, much like Spot does.

Jack tells them that he wants to win for the guys who got nothing.

Katherine asks him if he means Specs. And he tries to take it back but she runs off, upset. And Racer tells the guys that she has every right to be a part of this band as she lost her husband in the war. The guys tell Jack that he should try to get Katherine to sing with them.

So he goes to her work the next day. She tries to send him away, claiming she doesn’t need to be saved. Jack counters. “What if I do?” And then he sings her First Steps First before inviting her to rehearsal that night walking away. Katherine tells him on his way out that she’ll be there, on the condition that Jack tells her more about Specs.

At rehearsal, things are a little tense. Katherine quickly finds that Race tries his best to stay out of confrontation, David is constantly questioning Jack’s harmonies and chord progressions, Spot is always drunk, Crutchie is often confused, and Albert is hard to rely on. Katherine loosens up the tension as much as she can, learning the music and getting to know all the boys. She loves talking to Crutchie. She constantly takes Spot’s drinks from his hands and offers him coffee and water. She tries to get Race to open up and Davey to loosen up, while also somehow getting on Albert’s good side.

She finds that once they’re all playing together, things seem a little easier, like they all get along and work well together.

They play at a club in town called Medda’s, playing a song Jack hopes to be a winning song called “You Deserve It”. It’s snappy and catchy and all the boys really enjoy it. After this, Medda asks the band to play the next night and Jack and Kath celebrate with drinks.

Jack then asks Katherine if she’d be willing to take on a stage name, Kathy Pulitzer, saying it had a better ring to it than Katherine Plumber. Katherine doesn’t like this and leaves, unable to handle the idea of losing another part of Specs.

Jack follows her, apologizing after Katherine breaks, crying about how she’ll never see her husband’s body or get to say goodbye.

Jack promises to give her answers if she comes back to the band. So they go tell the guys they have another gig.

The next night, after escorting a very drunk Spot home, Jack expresses his worries that Spot will be wasted on the night of the competition to which Albert replies he has bigger problems and reveals he’d been rehearsing with Dwight Anson and thinks they might have a better song. He leaves, telling Jack he’d be playing with the band that had the better song.

Jack walks Katherine home, angry and scared and exhausted knowing he can’t sleep. He tells Katherine that if it were Specs, he’d be saying how they’d be winning this thing, on their way to New York in some Pullman cars, living the dream.

Katherine shows Jack a poem she’d written that makes Jack feel better. After promising — mostly — not to tease, Jack asks Katherine if he can look through more of her poems. Reluctantly, Katherine agrees.

The next day, Jack returns Katherine’s book with a new song, word for word lyrics to one of Katherine’s poems. He explains that this is the song they need to win. Katherine is hesitant but agrees to sing it.

Going to the contest, the band wins easily, hitting the judges hard with a song with a true story and one that many were too scared to tell.

Ecstatic, the band has a moment of victory before reality sets in.

They’re told that no one is paying for them to get to New York. They’re responsible for travel and getting there doesn’t guarantee them a spot on the broadcast. Jack and Race try to argue, telling them that they have to help them get there because everyone just heard them win, to which one of the producers replies that hardly anyone was listening.

And if no one saw it, it never happened.

(That moment gets me every ****ing time. The lights go out and a spotlight hits every single one of the boys. It hurts so bad.)

Their arguments get nowhere. And they’re left with this crippling news.

Jack falls to the ground in mental and emotional agony. The guys are arguing and getting worked up but Katherine is holding onto Jack, trying to make sure he’s alright.

Jack finally stands and tells them that they’re going to that contest. They have to make it there anyway they can and they’ll take every gig they can get because they have a right to respect.

And all the guys agree.

They’re done fighting for their country. It’s time to fight for themselves.

They take every gig offered to them, writing new songs and winning the hearts of their hometown (Cleveland). They even write a song about their hometown. Everyone adores it.

Jack and Katherine are closer than ever, Jack telling Katherine all the stories about Specs he can remember. He tells her one of his favorite memories of Specs which was when they were playing with some other cats in the army. Specs was playing the drums so fast, telling everyone to go faster and faster until finally he looked at Jack and just told him to sing. And Jack did. It was less of a song than a battle call.

When they write their new song, they begin to perform it everywhere they can as their town loves the song that’s all about them. While they do this, a certain club owner overheard the band talking about making enough money to get to New York. And Miss Medda hatches a scheme.

She asks the band to play more often for more pay and gets the rest of the town in on the game. Jack doesn’t realize what she’s doing.

Davey admits to Albert that his wife kicked him out. Albert offers up his home, igniting the first selfless act any of the others had ever seen from him.

Katherine tried to get Spot to give up the bottle. He refuses.

Spot starts massaging Crutchie’s back every now and then to help him relax and make him feel better after his injury.

In the midst of all of this, Katherine explains to Jack that she has to quit her job in order to make sure she could be at the contest. She says she’d be taking all the overtime and lipsticks as she could before then. She tells Jack how she lied about her mother being away to visit family and how she walked out on her and her father years ago.

And she says she wants to know what happens to Specs.

Unable to keep dodging the question, Jack breaks. He loses it, telling her that she couldn't understand. He’s crying as he recounts every detail in his brain, telling her how it happened, how it was his fault that his best friend was dead.

And Katherine runs away from him, horrified at what she’d just heard.

She doesn’t show up to the gig the next night.

Jack confides in Race who tells him that he’s letting this girl slip away from him. Jack tries to joke about Race not chasing after any pretty girls even though he has plenty of girls lining up to get a kiss from him after shows. Race says that he thought a smart guy like Jack would’ve had him figured out already.

Race lost his partner in the war.

Suddenly, things make a lot more sense.

Katherine stays home with her father, sobbing, explaining that it was Jack’s fault her husband was dead. But Pulitzer tells her that there aren’t reasons for what happens. Everything just happens. He tells her the only thing that matters is what she does next.

Katherine writes a poem and shows it to Jack the next day, apologizing even though Jack says she has nothing to apologize for. She says the same thing goes to him. She explains that she doesn’t know and cannot understand what happened in the frontlines. And this poem was for Jack and the boys.

Jack sets it to music knowing this song is too real and genuine to be played for an audience. So they change the lyrics.

This is the song Katherine would have sung if Specs had come home.

After performing this song for the first at Medda’s, Jack stands up to tell the audience that they won’t make it to New York, getting emotional and telling them that he was no hero and that the wrong guy made it home from the war. Medda stops him and explains to him he doesn’t need NBC when he has Cleveland. She hands him seven tickets to the Cleveland Limited. Pullman Cars. First class.

Jack literally breaks into tears and hugs Medda as tightly as he possibly can.

The band’s going to New York.

Jack gears up the guys for a successful contest while being awestruck and exploring New York City. Jack walks Katherine back to her room after a night exploring. They stop themselves from going into her room together after they both admit there’s more than just friendship between them.

They part ways that night, promising to see each other in the morning.

The next day, they go through preliminaries and are told they’ll be on the broadcast. Jack and Katherine sign the contract and the whole band celebrates until the next night when no one can seem to find Racer.

When Race arrives, two minutes before they’re on, he explains that Jack and Katherine signed away the rights to their own song and would be no more than walk ons if they won.

This just about breaks Jack.

Spot suggests leaving. The rest of the guys agree.

But Jack asks Katherine if she remembers all the original lyrics to Welcome Home, the poem she’d written for her boys.

She says yes.

And they know what they have to do for the soldiers out there to know they’re not alone.

They get on stage and they blow it up.

Crutchie starts the drums. Jack tells him to go faster. Faster. Faster.

Then he looks at Katherine. And he tells her to sing.

Charlie made it home.

Most of him at least .

Had three operations,

But the pain has not decreased .

Al learned to survive.

Means you never trust .

Once you see the worst in man,

Then how do you adjust?

Sean, he cracks a joke.

Claims to be alright .

Drinks a fifth of vodka

In his kitchen every night

And I stand here trying

Like mother Mary

With my private burden

Of grief to carry  

Welcome home my boys

Welcome home my sons

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love  

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home  

David’s never free.

Schedules out his day.

Filling every minute

Just to keep the ghosts away .

He could never get

Back the life he had .

Faced with raising kids

Who did not recognize their dad .

Tony made it back to town

Four months ago

Lives to tell the things

No one could bear to know

Keeps his guard up now

A lot goes undiscussed

Focuses on fighting

What he finds unjust  

Welcome home my boys

Welcome home my sons

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love  

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home  

Jack, he does his best,

Trying to pretend

What he doesn't talk about

Won't matter in the end

Jack, he made it home

But thinks it wasn't fair

How he made it out

But left his buddy there

Jack, he doesn't sleep

Because the nightmares come

Jack looks for an answer,

Jack, he looks for absolution,

And I'd give up anything

If I could give him some

And I stand here helpless

My arms extended

Knowing full well, darling,

Your war's not ended

Welcome home

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home my boys

Welcome home my sons

Welcome home my husband

Welcome home my love

Welcome home

Welcome home

Welcome home

It’s the most honest performance these men have ever given.

Months later, Jack and the band walk out of a movie theatre, joking about how good Dwight Anson Orchestra looked while Sinatra sang their song.

And some girls run up to them, asking for an autograph.

Jack gives them one, telling them to bring their father who served backstage at their next concert.

And then they leave.

They have a gig to get to.

What do you guys think? Wanna see any specific scenes?

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

[noctuascion]

I'm gonna make 2 requests, because I'm greedy and a little Cryptage starved right now. Also, you write so good and you have this way of turning a phrase that makes me super jealous so here goes. 1) FAKE DATING! Just... always with the fake dating. 2) Not sure how the lore works on your au but if it's applicable, either vamp crypto accidentally exposing wolf mirage to silver or wolf mirage exposing vamp crypto to sunlight.

;; Be as greedy as you want, sweetums. I love writing your prompts and also love you so it works out. uwu

Also, anything to keep me from falling asleep lol

I'll write your second request in a different post, but it'll be a bit. I write kinda slowly chjdjw ;;

--

Elliott Witt has had a lot of things happen to him. He's had first loves, first kisses, first everythings. He's done a lot in his life, but, in all his years of living and loving, he didn't think fake dating his rival would ever make the list. It did, though, as much as both of them resented it.

One of the promotional managers had called them in for a quick meeting. Basically, he laid down that they were to start appearing in public more and that they were doing it together. At first, Elliott had been on board. Having more time in the limelight sounded amazing, but then came in Park, who was now going to be his boyfriend.

Now, he's not saying Park's disgusting or revolting or that he isn't comfortable enough with his sexuality to be able to freely hug and tell his buddies he loves them (because, well, his only friends are a lesbian and a drug addict for the most part), but he's straight, a ladies man! Sure, the kid's pretty and everything, but he's not feminine either. He has his own special type of charm that's not entirely easy to put into words. (He has nice legs, though. Elliott will give him that much.)

He's glad, though, that he's not the only one entirely against this. Park managed to miss a lot of meet 'n greets, forgoing seeing his fans and opting out of photo shoots. He's rarely seen in public, and, if he is, he looks about as shady as a drug dealer—hiding his face, oversized clothing, etc. He hates the spotlight, Elliott quickly figured out, and that was his only real issue with this whole ordeal.

And when Elliott pointed out that he seemed to be perfectly fine with dating him, he called him what he assumes are curse words and insults in his native tongue before telling him he'd sooner date Nox.

However, their word was final, and the two were now a "couple" in the eyes of the public. Their fellow competitors were allowed insight on their little "agreement," and they did what any supportive friends would do: they laughed and wished the new couple a happy life.

Today was their first official "date" as a couple, so Elliott intended for it to be at least somewhat decent for them. He was aware Park hated public places, but they wanted them to be seen in public together. He couldn't please both parties, so he decided a small, family restaurant would be their destination. There wasn't a lot of people that normally visited, but Elliott was a personal fan of the food served there. The atmosphere was warm and friendly and he's sure Park would appreciate that much.

Why am I trying so hard again…?

Shrugging, he pulled on his second nicest jacket—a nice yellow shade that went well with his white shirt and blue jeans. His hair was done up in its usual style, though he lacked the goggles he normally wore, so his hair fell in his eyes a bit. He was sure Park wasn't going to try too hard, so he didn't either. It was a casual outing, after all; no need for either to wear anything extravagant.

Well, Elliott was wrong when Park met up with him wearing a white turtleneck, a nice black blazer, and matching slacks. He suspects a turtleneck because he's at least trying to hide his cybernetic implantations without being too obvious and still looking like effort was put in. There was such a stark color difference, though—he felt like the sun next to the moon.

"Oh, h-hey, you look…" Elliott trailed off, unsure if he should give a genuine compliment or play it off like a joke—but he's already stuttered, so he may as well commit, "… good—you dress up nice."

"Paquette and Wraith helped." He huffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I wouldn't have put in so much effort otherwise."

"Such a heartbreaker, Kim."

Elliott chuckled before reaching out and opening the door, gesturing for him to hop inside his car. The hacker rolled his eyes before slipping inside, the trickster shutting it before hurrying to the other side.

"Where are we going?" Park asked once Elliott was inside, turning the engine on and beginning to leave the complex.

"I know you don't like public places, and a movie is a terrible first date, so I picked out a small family restaurant that has some of the best lemon cakes I've tasted. Not to mention some people will see us, together, so it'll make the higher-ups happy, y'know?"

"Hm. You're smarter than I thought you were."

"I'm full of surprises, sugar."

"Don't push your luck with this 'dating' thing, Witt."

"Oh! That reminds me—we should probably establish some boundaries." Elliott took a right, keeping his eyes on the road but focus elsewhere. "Personally, I don't really care. So long as we don't have sex, I think I'm good otherwise. How about you?"

"No kissing, holding hands, touching in general, stupid pet names, or sex."

"… Well, you've eliminated every possible way of showing we're 'dating.' Anymore you wanna ban there, kid?" Elliott sighed, stopping at a red light and looking over to where Park was seated, glaring out the window. "This is definitely more like a friendly outing, if anything, but no one's gonna talk about us if we just seem like friends. Higher-ups will have our necks."

"I take back what I said earlier. You're an idiot if you think I care about whether or not they're happy with what I do."

"All right, fair point. Can we at least hold hands? That shouldn't be too much to ask."

Park sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and sinking into his seat. "Fine. If it'll get them out of our business, we can do that. But only for a few seconds."

"Gotcha. Man, whoever dated you in the past must've been as touch-adv—avd—ad—ad… adverse as you."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… Holy shit—you've never dated anybody."

"Shut up."

"No, no, that just makes this whole thing worse!" Elliott began driving again once the red light changed to green. His eyes returned to the road as well, though he was no less focused on the topic at hand. "You're experiencing a date for the first time with someone you don't even like, a-and that's not fair!"

"I—"

"No, y'know what? No, you're getting a date. Getting everything! You're getting the ol' Mirage charm, gonna get swept right off your feet."

"Witt—"

"No buts! You're being dragged out of your cave and getting screwed out of a first date with someone you're actually interested in. The least I can do is be as good to you as possible."

Park only stared at him, silent, before an amused breath left him, letting himself smile. "Okay."

—;;

Park wasn't a conversationalist, Elliott quickly found out. He was very quiet and reserved, which didn't help much either. He was, however, a great listener, and Elliott loved to talk, so, in a way, it worked out for the better.

The small restaurant they were seated in was relatively quiet, but they could hear hushed whispers about them being together, seated in a secluded booth that helped alleviate any anxiety Park might have with being seen by a bunch of people.

The holographic expert had ordered himself a steak, medium rare, with a salad on the side. He opted out for any alcohol, since he was the driver and he had no idea if Park was comfortable dealing with someone drunk, so all he ordered was some tea. Park, though, only asked for steak fries and a soda.

"Y'know," Elliott said after taking a sip of his tea, "you should get more meat in your diet. Helps build muscle, gets some meat on your bones."

"Hm…"

"C'mon! You also never join us for dinner. Or lunch—or, actually, I don't… see you eat. You eat, right?"

"Yes."

Elliott hummed in suspicion, a hand smoothing down his beard, though Park's stoic gaze didn't relent any. "All right… What do you normally eat?"

"Usually from whatever takeout menu is closer."

"… How are you even standing right now?" Elliott looked sad for a moment before shaking his head. "Let's make a quick deal here—"

"We've already made a deal."

"Let's make another. If you agree to come out of your cave for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I'll agree to do whatever you want. Anything. Well, except really bad stuff. Like, I won't kill someone. Too far."

It was Park's turn to hum, taking a sip from his straw, before placing the glass on the table. "I benefit from this more than you do."

"I get the benefit of helping my sweet sugar plum get better, even if it's just a little bit."

Park raised a brow. "What did I say about pushing luck?"

"Ya love me. You wouldn't leave me on our date like this… Well, I hope not."

Park wanted to roll his eyes, say "I would and I will," but he didn't. He kept silent, giving Elliott a look, who seemingly took the hint and changed subject.

"So, have you ever been asked out before?"

"Isn't that a bad topic for dates?"

"Just curious. Feel free to not say. Besides, it's not a real date."

"Don't let them hear you say that." Park stirred his drink with his straw absentmindedly, watching it fizz up at his ministrations. "No, no one's ever asked me out."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

Elliott laughed in disbelief. "Well, yeah! I mean, you're…"

"What?"

"I dunno—gorgeous, beautiful, cool and mysterious! You'd think girls would be all over you."

"I'm not exactly pleasant to be around, Witt. I'd think you'd have figured that out by now."

The trickster waved a hand, like he was denying Park's claim. "You're rough around the edges, but you're not horrible." He shrugged, taking another sip from his drink. "I'm sure someone out there's just dying to wanna date you! Or maybe you haven't met them yet. Who knows!"

Park let another faint smile curl his lips, looking into his drink. "Who knows, indeed."

—;;

Day two of their time as a couple was during a duos match (of course it was just them), and Elliott had counted this as possibly his most unlucky match.

They had landed at Epicenter and Park landed on top of the tower, alone, and Elliott landed on the ground with two other squads, one consisting of Nox and Octavio and the other being Natalie and Ajay. Nox had trained his sights on him immediately and began chasing him down (the sadistic bastard), and he had to rush to find a gun. All he could find was a P2020, and it wasn't exactly a fair match against the scientist's Spitfire.

Neither of them had any shields, but just a couple of shots from the toxic trapper's gun was enough to down him, slipping on ice and colliding with the hard ground.

"Oh—fuck!" the trickster cursed, trying to crawl away from the man towering over him. "C-C'mon, Caustic, don't you have anyone else to shoot at?"

"No."

"That's a lie and you know it."

However, before Nox could kill him off, the sound of a Sentinel going off, following by Nox quickly being down, sent a wave of relief through his system, looking over onto the cliff to see Park perched atop it, the bolt-action sniper in his hands.

No scope. That's kinda hot.

The hacker had shot off a few more rounds, and Elliott could hear Octavio shout in pain, before he began sliding down the hill, swapping out his sniper for a Wingman. The revolver was shot off twice before Nox's death box suddenly popped up in front of him, signaling the end of that squad.

However, they still had Natalie and Ajay, though they'd been injured by Octavio. They were clinging to D.O.C.'s healing up until Park tosses a grenade where they were healing. Natalie hadn't escaped fast enough, and she ended up downed, whereas Ajay was only injured.

She put up a fight, firing off her Alternator with frightening precision, and, had Park not hit his shots, he would've been killed off.

However, the man calmly approaching his fallen teammate was enough of an indicator that he won that battle, only a few wounds and scratches indicating his prior struggle.

"Kid, if I didn't know better," he said, pausing to let out a grunt at the syringe being plunged into his chest, "I'd think you're trying to show off and steal my heart."

For a moment, Park was silent, helping Elliott back to his feet, before a smirk crossed those dashing fractures, looking up at the other with a faint sense of mirth dancing in his eyes.

"Did it work?"

For once in his life, Elliott was left stunned, mouth open, unable to formulate a response, before the surveillance expert left to loot.

He regained his senses after a moment, blinking himself back into reality, and shutting his mouth.

Kid's full of surprises.

—;;

Their third date wasn't for the public. Their third date wasn't even suggested by Elliott. Park had just grabbed Elliott by the arm, dragged him out to god-knows-where, late at night, and laid down on a small hill. He didn't say anything, didn't give any explanation, and, honestly, Elliott didn't expect anything less. He just laid down beside the other, looked up at the stars, and let out a breath.

However, as Park's own mind was clear, hands resting on his stomach and a leg bent at the knee, Elliott's own was filled with thoughts of confusion, his hands behind his head, acting as a pillow.

Park was such a strange guy. One day, he acts like he's the bane of his existence, and, the next, he's smiling and making quips that make Elliott's heart race. Elliott's been with a lot of people, and he's learned a lot from his time with them, but there's never been a time where they've made him feel like… this.

They never badger him about his gross, smelly hair spray, they never playfully banter with him, they never push him off of exploding trains, and they certainly never made him speechless, never made him feel like he lost the ability to function. They never treated him like a person. They always just treated him like… Mirage.

"Hyeon?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think I'm straight."

"Mm. What makes you say that?"

"Because I think I'm in love with you."

Park smiled, letting out a quiet laugh. "You don't even know how I feel about you."

"I don't. You're weird, and you're never forward w-with how you feel, but… I just… thought you should, y'know, know, since we're doing this whole… thing."

"Mm. The fake dating thing?"

"The fake dating thing, yeah."

"… Do you want it to be fake anymore?"

Elliott turned into his side, Park own head moving to meet his gaze. "No."

"Mm. Good." Park's head turned back to the stars, shutting his eyes. "Neither did I."