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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Of Nights So Hollow, Of Legends So Great

Night Culture AU!Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Angst, Uh..Scary? I guess?

Author's Note: This is based on the wonderful @bunnvoid Night Culture AU and I felt compelled to write this at midnight because I couldn't stop thinking about it. Bunn, I hope I did your ideas justice! Honestly, I keep going back and forth between the drawings to make sure! I had fun writing it! -Thorne

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It was said that at the heart of every legend there was a grain of truth. Legends are just pieces of history fabricated beyond wildest belief, built upon by centuries of retelling, each story sewing a new thread into the tapestry from whence it came. But that’s all that legends are. Threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable.

***

The old castle was a legend. Perhaps not the castle itself, but what supposedly resided inside. Supernatural creatures that skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out fresh blood in the night. That was one form of the legend, if you believed it. The other form was that of creatures who skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out evil and destroying it where it plagued innocence.

The chateau lied in the midst of the Devilwood Wilds, just outside the City of Old Gotham. Even during the days when the sun would peek through the gray clouds, it appeared gloomy, blackened stone walls, charred shingles and shutters. The giant Devilwood and Shadow trees prevented sight of the doors of the castle; only the top could be seen, to get the real view, one would’ve had to go into the forest. There was another legend: the horrors of the Wilds.

Whispers on the school-grounds told of a creature, big and terrifying that could be summoned with ritual stones and fresh bat blood; those that summon the beast are never seen again. The adults were less convinced of the idea, though they still forbid their children from reaching even the edges of the forested area. Whilst they believed those that went in were never heard from again, it wasn’t from a creature eating them, but a lack of guidance. Starvation. Wild animals. The freezing fog that made your breath turn to frost.

Timothy remembers hearing those whispers when he passed the old schoolhouse. His mother and father didn’t let him interact with the common children, instead his lessons were taught by private tutors from the wealthiest lands, paid for with the Drake treasure of gold and gemstones.

What more so Timothy remembered was the inhuman being that appeared in his father’s manor, striking down his mother with a slash of black magic, his father following. He remembers the way his father’s eyes rolled back in his skull, fear spreading through his body as he hid in the corner of the room, whimpering and crying. And he most certainly remembered the cold hand of the demon sliding between his shoulder blades before it dug into his skin, piercing his flesh, laughing as he cried out in pain as pricks spread out along his back and down his arms.

Warmth bled down his back as black feathers pushed from his skin and Timothy panted as his fingernails grew in length, sharpening as they darkened. He remembered scrambling to his feet, darting away from the creature as he ran. Forgetting the corpses of his family and staff around him, throwing the door open, bursting into the night, and sprinting down the street, leaving a trail of bloody, black feathers in the direction of the Devilwood Wilds.

***

The first night was the least remembered but the darkest. Violent and corrupting nightmares slithering inside his head as he tossed and turned along the frigid ground in a feverish deathlike state, the wings at his back only growing in size.

The second night was less nightmare-ridden, but much more painful. Timothy had pierced a wing on a stray Devilwood tree, the syrup like poison only infecting the wound. He was hungry and cold. Exhausted and scared. He tried to remember all the books he read as a child of the knights facing the elements for a week in order to ascend knighthood; he couldn’t seem to recall a thing.

The third night seemed to be his last. He lay huddled up against a raised Shadow tree root, the ebony wood providing stability for his wounded wing. Timothy sniffled, dragging his knees to his chest as he lay his chin on his arms, ignoring the grumbling of his stomach as it ate itself in hunger.

A tree branch creaked above him, and he craned his neck up, eyes widening when he saw the glowing eyes of the masked creature. The legends were right. The creature’s head twisted sideways, reminding Timothy of an owl, then the other way, like it was observing him. It made a noise and he scrambled to the floor of the forest, curling his injured wing above his head and over his body to protect himself.

THUNK!

Timothy whimpered, ready to be torn to shreds, but when no vicious claws or snapping teeth came at him, he carefully peered between his open wing. There lie a satchel, as long as his forearm and as wide as his middle was. He looked up towards the tree branch to where the creature had sat, but there was nothing there anymore; he glanced around, it wasn’t in sight.

He blinked and shuffled towards the satchel, untying the drawstrings with fumbling clawed hands. Inside lay a pair of thick wool socks, a small blanket, and another small bag. Timothy pulled it from the satchel and opened it; half a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat the size of his hand were stowed inside.

Timothy forewent the etiquette he was taught as a child, giving into his ravenous desire as he devoured the meat. It was tender and juicy, the glaze a mixture of honey and cinnamon.

A memory flowed to his mind, the dinner after the rising of the first star, his family and staff all surrounding the dining table, a divine feast laid before them. The smiling faces of his mother and father stilled his hunger and he placed the food back in the satchel, uncurling the wool blanket. Timothy lay underneath the raised Shadow tree roots, one wing curled around him, and he fell into a restless sleep with tears frozen on his cheeks.

***

When he awoke the next morning, his wing was no longer torn and infected. A new feather had appeared where the wound had been. Timothy wanted to learn to fly. He’d owned a bird once. A Ruby Firebird, with long, crimson-colored feathers and big ruby eyes. It had been his only real friend and he’d watched it a lot. It couldn’t be that hard.

He stretched his wings out, unable to fight the urge to touch them with a single black claw. It tingled. Timothy blinked and beat them, unsure. He beat them again, this time a little harder, keeping at it until with each beat he was able to blow the long grass flat against the ground. A giddy smile came across his lips when the tips of his toes grazed the ground.

What he had not counted on was how tired he was going to get after only a few brief minutes of trying. His wings felt sore. Timothy would try again tomorrow to rise above the tall grass.

***

The creature would appear at odd times during the night and Timothy had stopped feeling the cold fear in his gut when it did. It never came near him; it just watched with the cocked head, back and forth, then would drop the satchel again and disappear. Sometimes there were scribbles inside. He didn’t know what they meant; but he knew the language. Thaatisgani. An old language his writing teacher had shown him one day. A language long died out amongst the common and even the elite folk.

Timothy wanted to know what it meant. He wanted to know what the creature was. His determination drew him to the front of the castle during the night of the harshest season storm. Lighting crackled across the sky, the thunder rolled along the clouds and the rain came down in torrents. He was freezing and soaked to the bone and the weight of his wings had him crawling up the steps, collapsing at the door.

He weakly raised a clawed hand, one nail scratching the black glazed door and he descended into darkness.

***

His mother liked to wear scented oils. They smelled of Queen’s Briar and Golden Belladonna. Before he was older, she used to let Timothy sit beside her when she would apply them to her wrist and ears. She would smile at him and tell him stories of far away lands.

Warmth spread across his eyes, and he rolled over in what he thought was his dream, only to roll onto the ground, landing awkwardly on his wings. Timothy whined and unfolded himself off the ground, rubbing his eyes, only to see the creature a hair’s breadth away from his face.

Timothy choked on his fear and scrambled away, only for the creature to grab his shoulder.

“Stay.”

He halted, looking back at it. “You speak the common tongue?”

The creature stared at him. “You are Timothy Drake. Son of Earl Drake.”

“I am,” Timothy responded, then looked at his hands. “But my family is…is dead.”

“Killed by a slithering demon from the Farstead realm.”

Tears prickled Timothy’s vision. “It killed my parents and cursed me.” He looked at the creature. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re cursed to believe what you think you are.” The creature waved a glowing hand and Timothy blinked in shock as the wings disappeared and his hands turned to normal. “It’s merely an illusion. You’ve only been tainted with cursed magic.”

It was much too complicated for Timothy to pull apart now. “Can I be healed?”

The creature blinked its glowing obs. “Cursed magic cannot be healed…but it can be trained.” They leaned forward, getting in his face. “I can teach you to control and transform.”

“You’re not going to eat me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“…Yes.”

“You hesitated just a bit right there.”

A bottle rolled out from the corner of the room and the creature sighed, turning its head to it. “Richard. Jason. Come here.”

Two young boys, not that much older than Timothy appeared from behind a corner, guilty looks on their faces as though they’d been caught eavesdropping.

The creature nodded to Timothy. “Take him upstairs. He is dirty and tired.”

The tallest one, Jason, crossed his arms over his chest. “Just like that, Bruce? You’re going to take the witch boy in?”

“Pot-kettle,” Richard coughed, smiling when Jason elbowed him.

The creature, now known as Bruce, sighed. “Take the boy. He is tired.”

Jason and Richard obeyed, each hauling Timothy up under the armpits, leading him to a dimly lit staircase.

“Are you two going to eat me?”

“Yes,” Jason replied without hesitation.

“Jason!” Richard barked. “Stop.” He looked down at Timothy. “We’re not going to eat you Timothy…we’re going to help you. And that includes having a warm bed to sleep in and hot food to eat.”

Tears once again gathered in Timothy’s eyes, and he lowered his head as he sniffled. For once since that night, he felt safe.

These were the legends that prowled the city streets. They were supposed to be vicious and dark, evil and bloodthirsty, not ribbing and warm.

But then again, what are legends, but threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable?

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gay-and-ready-to-cry · 2 years

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You're somebody else || stiles stilinski

summary: black!fem!reader is a drug addict and she used to be best friends with stiles but they haven't talked in ages so he's confused on how she went from being a kind girl to a drug addict who never behaves.

genre: angst, murder

warnings: drugs, rehab, murder, blood, violence, sexual references, depression, swearing, arguing

word count: 1.1k

song that fits: you're somebody else or gangster or high enough

a/n: for this one, I was inspired when I was listening to you're somebody else and I thought of rue so there is a face claim this time. it's also a lot darker than others I've written.

Y/N's Point of View: I walked through the crowded hallways of Beacon Hills Highschool, my hoodie hiding my face or at least half of my face. I ignored the whispers and disgusted looks directed at me, pushing them away from my train of thought. My curls fell against the side of my face, poking my eyes and cheeks no matter how hard I tried to stop them. I made my way to my locker, entering the combination like I hadn't missed out on two months of school because I had been sent to rehab. I checked the timetable quickly before grabbing my books and whatever else I needed before making my way to Ms. Baird's class for Health. Fun. I entered the classroom before at least half of the class, sitting near the back of the classroom where I'd be hidden from most of the class. "Miss L/N, please remove the hoodie," Ms. Baird told me from the front of the class, making everyone turn around in their seats to whisper. I ignored her. "Miss L/N, I won't repeat myself again," she said in a warning tone. "And what makes you think that I wanted to listen to you the first time?" I asked her, deliberately getting on her nerves. She frowned at me before moving on and continuing to teach the class about random shit that I paid no attention to. I noticed to boys who were on the opposite side of the classroom, both of which were looking at me. I recognised them as Scott McCall who used to be the school nerd and Stiles Stilinski who was my best friend up until we were 14. I raises an eyebrow at them before turning around, making sure my hoodie hid my face from their eyesight.

For the rest of class, I drew small eyes and drawings that could put off anyones appetite for an hour or so.

The annoying bell rang, ending first period.

They really ought to change that awful sound.

---

I sat with my head in one hand as my other scribbled down notes on English even though I doubted that I would graduate.

My so-called therapist always told me to "Believe in yourself and you will achieve great things,"

He also loves to fuck little girls who are struggling with their relationships. It's fucking gross.

I ignored the three boys and two girls who sat at the table with me, all of them most likely looking at me.

"What?" I demanded impatiently, not looking up from my messy notes.

"We thought that we would... join you. You looked lonely," the strawberry blonde lied.

Lydia Martin.

Highschool Prom Queen. She has every boy wrapped around her little pinky finger. Except Danny.

"That's a load of bullshit," I spat at them before grabbing my books and exiting the library, the last bell for the day would go soon anyway.

"Are you sure that's the girl you were friends with when you were younger?" I heard one of them ask (Stiles) as I left.

---

11:23pm.

That's what my watch read as I sat quietly on a park bench, eyes red and puffy.

I had a stolen kitchen knife in hand, stained with blood as were my clothes and my face was splattered with blood.

I could hear huffs and puffs from behind me as my 'friend' Benny jogged up to me, a few bruises marking his face.

"You look wonderful," he said sarcastically.

"You look like shit," I remarked, my voice emotionless as I looked back down at the kitchen knife.

"Who was it?" He asked quietly, sitting down next to me.

"... nobody,"

---

"Why can't you fucking leave me alone!" I screamed angrily at my step-father.

He raised his hands in front of him, like he was calming down an animal, "Y/N... I just want to help you... to be that father figure you're missing," he said calmly.

"My father is dead," I said quietly, voice full of venom and hatred.

He stayed silent.

I walked into the kitchen, disappearing from his eyesight.

"Y/N..." I heard him say nervously as I came back into his eyesight, a large kitchen knife in hand.

It glistened in the moonlight, reflecting onto my step-father's face.

"You're high Y/N, you aren't thinking right," he tried to convince me, trying to grab the knife out of my hand.

I shook my head, my eyes tearing up slightly, "No I'm not. Goodbye," I whispered before quickly plunging the knife into his heart.

Blood squirted out everywhere as a blood-curling scream escaped his lips. I wiped my mouth, staining my hoodie even more.

"What happened to you?" He stuttered before falling onto the carpet, a pool of crimson red blood forming.

I waited a few minutes, watching his lifeless body. I grabbed the knife again, tugging it out of his ghostly coloured body, more blood spitting everywhere.

---

"He wasn't somebody important," I said quietly, running my finger over the blade.

He sighed, looking up at me, "You do know that the police will come after you eventually,"

I shrugged carelessly, "Fuck them,"

He shook his head, "I swear you're the strangest person that I've ever met," he spoke.

I chuckled without emotion, "I'm honoured,"

---

I watched as Mr. Driver wrote the calculations on the board, explaining the whole process again because two of the boys were distracting the class with spitballs.

I held in a sigh, waiting for the day to fucking end already.

"Hey Y/N," a voice whispered from beside me.

Stiles.

"What?" I whispered back.

"Could you meet with us after school?" He asked, making me frown.

"Why-"

"Yes or no?"

I hesitated.

"Yes,"

---

I tapped my foot impatiently, arms crossed with a not-so-pleased expression on my face.

"While we're still young," I muttered to myself.

I picked at a small patch of blood on my finger from the previous night, I hadn't had a proper wash down today so there was still blood.

A pair of footsteps brought me out of my thoughts.

"Hey," he greeted and I nodded, muttering a small hey.

"How are you?" He asked softly.

I frowned.

"I'm... fine," I said hesitantly, not confident about my answer.

He raised an eyebrow, "Really? That was pretty convincing," he said sarcastically, making me roll my eyes.

"What the fuck do you want Stiles?" I asked angrily, wishing that I had that kitchen knife in my hands again.

"I want to know what happened to my best friend! Where did all these drugs, and swearing come from all of a sudden?" He raises his voice, his emotions flying everywhere.

"I-I dunno," I admitted, a pit of guilt forming in my stomach.

He didn't say anything, looking at me sadly.

"I should go," I whispered before turning away and walking away, ignoring him as he yelled out my name.

----

taglist

everything - @just-me-in-my-head

teen wolf - @bluetreecloud20

join my taglist (edited)

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #zendaya #oneshot #murder #dark #blood #stiles x reader

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kevin-day-is-bi · 3 years

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For my dear @frenemies-to-lovers , who is my Knife Wife!! This did turn out on the long side, but I hope you like it!

It’s a Human Thing

Cardan was absolutely, completely, and totally in love with the girl in front of him. He was also not able to focus on how amazing she was because of how odd his human pants felt against his skin. Jeans, Jude had said, thrusting them into his arms. They, she had told him, were going to buy presents. And now they were in this store, this store that was bigger than the High King’s Palace in Elfhame, where everything was bright red. Jude had a list clutched in one hand and was pushing a shopping cart, as she had called it.

“Okay,” She said, turning the cart down an aisle. “We both need to think of something for Taryn. I am going to get her a new scarf. A human scarf.” She turned to me. “You need to get her something, too.”

Cardan frowned, staring at what they were walking past. He pulled one off the shelf and popped off the lid. It was a candle.

“It’s a scented candle.” He looked up at Jude. She was leaning on the cart and smiling slightly. “Sniff it.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, then sniffed the candle lightly. It smelled like vanilla. Cardan hummed and looked at the other candles on the shelf. He pulled another one off and smelled it. It’s light, jasmine. He held it out to Jude.

“Would Taryn like this?” She smelled it and nodded. He tossed it in the cart and they kept shopping.

This was going to be Jude and Taryn’s first Christmas since they were stolen. In Elfhame, they celebrated Solstice. They celebrated it much like they celebrated everything else, with drink and dancing until dawn. Cardan had been assured that they still had drinking and dancing for Christmas, but that there were a few important differences.

Vivienne and Heather were hosting a party Christmas Eve and Christmas day, and Jude had invited the original Court of Shadows to come. Somehow, three humans and six fae were going to fit into Heather’s incredibly small apartment. When Cardan had voiced his worry, Jude had given him a look.

Cardan received a lot of looks from Jude. There was a ‘you are being very annoying’ look, a ‘you need to stop drinking now’ look, a ‘you are making me very turned on in the middle of this important meeting’ look. Cardan felt he gained a new look at least once a week. This was a new one. He was pretty sure it meant ‘if you ruin this for me I will cut off your head with Nightfell’. So he had simply assured her they would easily find the space and changed the subject.

“Ok!” Jude said, tossing a soft-looking midnight blue scarf into the cart. “Ready to go? We still need to wrap them.”

…

“Explain the hat.”

“It’s a human thing.” Cardan raised his eyebrows, looking skeptical. Jude sighed and plunked the red-and-white hat down on his head. “There’s this story they tell kids, I don’t know where it came from, but this fat old man goes around the world Christmas night and delivers presents to all the kids who have been nice, and coal to all the kids who have been naughty.”

“Is he a fae?” Jude made a face.

“Not that we know of.”

“But he is magic?”

“Yep.”

Cardan tilted his head, soft black hair falling over one eye. Jude had her hair pulled back in a thick knot, and Cardan found himself wishing he could run his fingers through it.

Decorating was more fun than Cardan had thought it would be. There was a tree - not real, Vivienne had said with a scoff. Real ones were messy, - and several garlands of holly strung over windows and doors. Heather had pulled out several boxes of decorations from somewhere. Jude had held the plastic and glass ornaments in her hands every time before she hung them up, seemingly trying to comprehend their existence. Cardan was helping, although he wasn’t entirely sure he was doing it right. There didn’t seem to be much of a pattern, it was more of ‘hang things up where you want’.

Oak was also helping, though he was doing more talking than hanging. Cardan found himself fascinated by tales of mortal school; hearing a fae child talk about lunch lines and playing games felt like the whole world was slightly tilted.

“Oh, and in art class we made Christmas decorations! We cut out snowflakes and glued them to blank CDs and decorated them with Sharpies and gems. I brought mine home.”

Oak ran to the door and dug around in his backpack, pulling out the ornament. It was slightly misshapen, with very bright red and green scribbles on it. Cardan raised a brow, but Jude grabbed it and hung it up right in the front.

“I hope you aren’t ruining the tree,” Vivienne called from the kitchen. Cardan examined the tree. It had several empty spots and looked as though they had simply thrown the boxes at it.

“No,” He called back, and Oak snickered. Vivienne came in balancing a tray of mugs and began passing them out. It was hot chocolate with white floating things in it.

“What are these?” He asked. Heather, having followed Vivienne in, gasped.

“You’ve never had marshmallows?” She looked horrified, and distantly Cardan wondered if she was as horrified as him on the first night Jude had kissed him. He doubted it. Oak jumped up and down, sloshing his hot chocolate down his arms.

“They’re amazing! They’re fluffy and light and sweet and you have to try one.”

Cardan hesitantly took a sip, catching a marshmallow as he did it. After a moment of thoughtful chewing, he nodded.

“I believe I do enjoy marshmallows,” He said, trying to get another one with his next sip. Oak giggled.

When Cardan looked up, he noticed Jude giving him another look. He had seen this look before. ‘You are incredibly attractive right now and I am struggling not to throw myself at you with wild abandon’ was the general meaning of it. Cardan was not one to leave and let lie, so he smirked at her, showing just a flash of teeth. Her chin jutted out, challenge ripping through her eyes.

Cardan went for another sip, but someone knocked on the door. Vivienne went to get it, but when she opened the door she inhaled sharply.

“It’s a fae,” She said, voice quiet. Jude and Cardan looked at each other and walked over. It was indeed a small fae, short and furry with distressingly long teeth.

“My King,” The creature gasped, bowing. “My Queen.”

“Yes, what is it?” Cardan was annoyed. He had hoped not to be called upon, just for tonight and tomorrow.

“Your pardon, Majesties. I was told to bring this to you.” The fae held out a cream envelope with a shaking hand. The thick red seal on the back had already been broken, but Cardan could see it was Madoc’s.

Next to him, Jude drew in a sharp breath. Cardan unfolded the letter and scanned the few short lines of text. Wordlessly, he passed it to Jude. She gave him a quick look and read the letter. Cardan was carefully still, shoulders tight. Her head jerked up to look up at him.

To Their Majesties,

I will arrive at sundown. I am excited to see the girls and Oak. I am bringing presents.

…

“He’s coming?” Jude stared, wide-eyed, at Vivienne. Vivienne was leaning against the counter, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Her own cat eyes went huge, and she pushed off the counter.

“He isn’t supposed to be.” Vivienne set her mug down and put her hands on her hips. “He certainly isn’t coming into this apartment.”

Next to her, Taryn pursed her lips and shifted. She fixed her attention on her own cup of coffee and took a sip.

“Taryn?” Cardan cocked his head slightly. “How do you feel about Madoc coming over?” She mumbled something into her coffee, not looking at any of them. Jude spun to her, eyes narrowed.

“What was that?” Taryn lowered her cup and reached a hand up to push her hair over her shoulder. She still wasn’t looking at them.

“I may have invited him.”

“What?” Vivienne and Jude spoke at once.

“Well, he raised us! This is his first Christmas and he’s in the mortal world and we haven’t payed him any heed and I wanted to be nice.” Jude stared at her, horrified. “It’s not like he can ruin the whole day. Even he doesn’t have that much power.”

“He almost took over all of Elfhame.” Jude grabbed Taryn’s shoulders, shaking her a little. “He ruined our childhoods and almost ruined both Cardan and I’s reign! Why would you think he can’t ruin Christmas?!”

Taryn looked taken aback. Cardan crossed his arms. She really should have thought this through.

“I thought-” Taryn bit her lip. “Maybe Oak would want to see him.” Everyone craned their necks to see into the living room where Oak was furiously typing on a laptop. Jude was the first to snap out of it.

“Maybe, but if they miss each other a half-hour visit in the park does just fine.” There was something in Jude’s voice, and Cardan turned to look at her. There was anger and annoyance, but Cardan could see in the tightness of her mouth eyes that she was worried, as well. Worried and scared and hurt.

Taryn kept stammering, but Cardan stopped paying her any attention. He watched Jude, watched the annoyance and anger crest, watched her eyes turn stormy. She turned and left in the middle of Taryn’s pleading to Vivienne, who was just watching with narrowed eyes. Taryn stared after Jude. Cardan followed, nodding slightly to Vivienne as he went.

Jude stormed to her bedroom and stood by the small window. Cardan shut the door quietly behind them and perched on the bed. He remained silent, waiting for her to speak. She broke after only a few short moments.

“I don’t want him here.” Her breath was coming short and fast as she crossed her arms. “I don’t care if it’s childish. This is my first Christmas since I was six, our first break since Eldred stepped down, the first time we are together and not being attacked, not fighting, not having to plan and plot and handle Orlagh or Nicasia or Locke. I wanted a time where I could be with Vivienne and not be mad at Taryn and see Oak smile.”

She broke off, tilting her head back slightly. When she spoke again, it was softer than before. “He has been a presence in my life forever. Even before I knew it, my life was ruled by him. I just wanted this nice human holiday without him.”

Her voice rose, and she lashed out a hand and punched the wall. The plaster cracked ever so slightly, and Jude grunted softly. Cardan rose and skirted the bed, going to stand by her. He took her hand gently. Her knuckles were red, and one of them had split open. He glanced up at her face.

To say she was angry was to say the sea around Elfhame was wet. True, as he couldn’t lie, but vastly underplaying. Cardan had never wished more that he could lie, just so he could hold her and tell her Madoc wouldn’t ruin anything. But Madoc was in the habit of ruining things. Jude sniffled. Cardan looked at her in surprise.

“I’m not going to cry,” She said sullenly. “Unless it’s out of anger.”

Cardan hummed and pulled her close. He tucked her head under his chin and rubbed her arms. Cardan had found out that when Jude was upset, physical touch grounded her. Otherwise, she got in her head and spiraled into anger. Cardan, having the opportunity to touch someone he loved for the first time in his life, was all too willing to comply.

“I can’t stay here,” Jude whispered. “Not with him, not in the same apartment. I don’t want to fight, and I know he’ll ruin it.” She sighed, shoulders hunching under his grip. “I suppose we can go back to Elfhame.” She didn’t sound thrilled. Cardan wished he could just snap his fingers and disappear Madoc.

“If we go back to Eflhame,” Cardan said, mumbling into Jude’s hair. “We could spend the night in my rooms. We need not deal with anyone else.” She pulled back and wrenched her head towards the window.

“I don’t have a choice. I simply cannot be in the same apartment as him.” Cardan straightened. Spending Christmas alone was not the worst idea, but it was for Jude. Cardan wondered…

“Come back to Elfhame, and I will try to distract you.” Jude flashed him a smile.

“You always do such a good job.”

…

Jude opened the carved door. Hair dripping down her back from her bath, she slipped into a blood-red doublet and thick green tights. She sighed, relishing the feeling of the velvet and wool against her skin. It felt like home.

She squeezed out her hair, then braided it back. Cardan had said he had to do something, then left her to bathe. The bath hadn’t been pleasant, all her anger and fury and worry over Madoc coming out in great heaving gasps. When she had dragged herself out, she had sworn not to think about him for the remainder of the night or for Christmas tomorrow.

Someone knocked on her door, and she rushed to open it. She blinked in surprise. It was Fand, out of her usual armour and in a black doublet. Fand bowed.

“Your Majesty. The King asked me to find you.”

Jude reached back inside the door and found her boots, the comfortable worn leather supple beneath her hands as she laced them up. Then she followed Fand, slightly confused. Fand did not lead her to the throne room, instead leading her to a small dining room attached to Cardan’s rooms.

When Fand nodded at her and opened the doors, Jude was taken aback. Inside, someone had put up a large pine tree, and it was covered in bright berries and soft glittering cloths. The whole room seemed to shimmer, and wreaths were flung over every chair and onto the mantlepiece. But what was more shocking were the fae inside.

Surrounding the table were Cardan, The Bomb, The Roach, The Ghost, and Grima Mog, all dressed in fineries. Fand slunk by her and joined them, cerulean skin standing out against the soft browns and greens. The Roach even had on a velvet Santa hat, though it looked odd on him.

Cardan stepped forward, holding two spun glass cups of wine. He handed one to her, taking a sip of the other. Jude shut her mouth, which had fallen open slightly, and gave him a grin.

“Merry Christmas,” He said, the words sounding odd in his mouth. Jude laughed, taking Cardan’s goblet and setting both of theirs aside. She flung herself at him, hugging him tightly enough he gasped for breath. The Bomb cheered loudly as Jude kissed him. She reveled in the softness of his mouth. He put his mouth to her ear and breathed. “I love you with all of my shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous heart.”

“I love you, too,” She whispered back, laughing again and clutching him tighter.

Merry Christmas!!!

Thank you, @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels, for hosting this!

#Jurdan #Jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #high queen of elfhame #christmas #christmas fluff #@frenemies-to-lovers #knife wife #secret snusband

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Photo

Iron Bull: You are made of the fade, right? Cole: I’m not sure what I’m made of, but I suppose I am of the fade. Iron Bull: If I punch you and my fist goes through you, does that mean I am stronger than the fade? Cole: I believe that would kill me. Iron Bull: Don’t sweat the tiny details, think big picture my friend. ----------------------------------------------------

Varric: So you seek out lost ruins and dream in the fade? Solas: Correct. Solas: It is a wondrous experience to relive moments of the ancient past. Varric: When you are in the fade do the spirits talk to you? Solas: Sometimes if they are willing. Solas: It would be to you as if you walked into a crowded market square and attempted to speak with a random stranger. Solas: Some are friendly and welcoming. Solas: Some secretive and guarded. Solas: And there are those that would become hostile. Varric: Interesting. *scribbles some notes* Solas: Your interest in the fade is somewhat perplexing I must say; you’ve never shown interest in it before. Varric: I am an inquisitive man by nature. Cassandra: *walks in* Do not be fooled by his gilded words. Cassandra: His only interest is to speak with the dead and learn where they hid their treasures. Varric: You wound me seeker. Cassandra: Oh? Do you deny it then? Varric: If a spirit was willing to tell me where a chest or two of gold was buried who am I to stop them? Cassandra: *rolls her eyes* ---------------------------------------- Inquisitor: If I asked you to kill someone, what would you say? Cassandra: What were their crimes? Blackwall: What did they do to harm you or others? Dorian: Will it ruin my clothes? Solas: Will it alter the fade? Sera: Can I choose how many bees to use? *All turn to stare at Sera* Inquisitor: And that is why Sera is always in my party. ---------------------------------------- Iron Bull: Dorian, can you use your magic and bring them back to life? Dorian: Do I look like a necromancer to you? Iron Bull: Do you really want the answer to that? ----------------------------------------

Vivienne: I was only stating the facts. Blackwall: That mages are more useful than grey wardens? Vivienne: We mages help guide kings and queens of the land and protect them from all manner of madness. Vivienne: Wardens are only good for fighting blights and they only happen every other hundred years. Blackwall: Yet when they do happen, mages like you go shitting your pretty pairs of pants and beg us to make the monsters go away. Vivienne: I should have expected nothing less from someone down in the mud all the time. Blackwall: Getting dirty is what ends blights. Blackwall: Maybe if you came down from your pedestal you’d see that you can’t talk an arch demon to death. ------------------------------------------------------

Sera: So you can make people forget things? Cole: Sometimes. Cole: It is easier if it is just forgetting me, but I can do other things as well. Sera: What about a door? Cole: A door? Cole: I’ve never tried making someone forget a door before. Sera: But it could be done yeah? Cole: *Ponders* Yes….yes I could make them forget a door. Sera: Make Vivienne forget the door to the war council chamber. Cole: Why? Sera: You’ll see tomorrow. *Next day* Inquisitor: I’ve gathered everyone here to plan out our ne- Inquisitor: *takes head count* Inquisitor: Where’s V- *Loud thud from outside chamber* Vivienne: WHO PUT THIS DOOR HERE!? --------------------------------------------------------- *Inquisitor leading Sera, Iron Bull, and Blackwall across marsh* *Blackwall stops and looks over marshes.* Iron Bull: What’s on your mind? Blackwall: You ever wonder why we’re here. Iron Bull: Rather deep question. Iron Bull: Why are any of us here? Iron Bull: Was it fate that drew us together? Iron Bull: Or maybe the grand scheme of some vengeful gods sitting in a black city? Iron Bull: Who can say? *Blackwall turns to Iron Bull* Blackwall: No, I mean why the hell are we here in this swamp? *Sera walking by*: Our dear leader is lost again. -----------------------------------------------------------

Inquisitor: I swear if that chantry nun tries to have me hanged again I will stab her. Cassandra: I am sure she has brought you here to acknowledge our efforts. *Walks into square and is surrounded by angry mob* Chantry nun: Behold! The false Herald! *Inquisitor reaches for sword* Cassandra: Inquisitor, please! Varric: Oh come on, let the Inquisitor have some fun. ----------------------------------------------------------

Josephine: Inquisitor, we need to talk. Inquisitor: About what? Josephine: We need you to stop messing around with pointless errands. Inquisitor: Everything I do I do to stop the Corypheus. Josephine: Oh really? Josephine: Did you not help a farmer find his lost goat? Inquisitor: He said it spoke to him and gave him magical advice. Josephine: What about your compulsive need to plant a flag at every location you discover? Inquisitor: It is to let our enemies know that we are everywhere. Josephine: Then how about your need to grab every bottle of liquor in the kingdoms? Inquisitor: .......... Inquisitor: Morale boost?

#banter #BioWare #dragon age inquisition #cassandra #iron bull #varric #blackwall #vivienne #dorian #sera #solas dragon age #cole #josephine

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haledamage · 3 years

Text

Double Date

I’m very late in the day posting this, but I still got it before Valentine’s Day is over so I’m counting it as a win! this is sort of for OC Kiss Week, and since technically there’s a kiss between OCs I’m still counting it

a Valentine’s Day double date featuring Wayhaven’s cutest couple, Nate Sewell and Abigail Jenings, from the POV of Kira Kingston, one half of Wayhaven’s most awkward not-couple. AJ belongs to my dear @queen-scribbles, Kira is mine, Nate and Adam are from The Wayhaven Chronicles

---

Kira set a pair of mugs on the squat coffee table in her living room. One mug, proudly proclaiming its owner to be “Pure of Heart, Foul of Mouth, Smart of Ass” held a fresh cup of chai tea. The other, a beautiful handmade mug covered in sunflowers, belonged to Kira’s roommate, AJ, and was filled with coffee to the redhead’s very exacting taste.

It’s a quiet day in the apartment, something both women preferred and rarely got to enjoy. With work and Agency business - not to mention AJ's new boyfriend and Kira's… more complicated situation - it'd been a while since they'd been able to spend time together that didn’t involve casing a crime scene.

AJ had claimed the sofa, legs tucked under her and book open on her lap. It looked to be a very old tome, pages yellowed and spine cracked with time; it didn't take much to figure out where she must've gotten it - or rather, who she’d gotten it from.

Drinks delivered, Kira returned to the old gingham recliner and picked up her own book - a murder mystery; she’s pretty sure she knew who did it already, but didn’t want to skip ahead for vindication.

“Hey, Kir,” AJ's voice broke the silence and Kira's meandering thoughts. She waited for the brunette to hum in acknowledgement before asking, “You doin’ anythin’ on Sunday?”

Kira took a second to think about it, though she didn’t really need to. “I don't think so? In theory, I have the day off. Why?”

“Nate and I were thinkin’ o’ goin’ out and thought you might like t’ join us,” Abigail said in a rush.

Kira blinked. Then blinked again. “You're inviting me to third wheel on your date this weekend?”

“Not... exactly.”

“Spit it out, Red.”

“Y'see, we figured we could maybe…” AJ tugged on a wayward curl, straightening it out before letting it snap back to join the rest, “make it a double date.”

“A double--” Kira was half-tempted to pretend she didn't know who Abigail and Nate intended her date to be, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. “There's no fucking way Adam would agree to that, AJ.”

Grinning victoriously, AJ carefully closed her book so she could lean forward. “But if he did, would y’ go?”

There was no way Kira could say no to that hopeful look and she knew it. “Sure,” she sighed. “Okay. If you can convince Adam to go, then I will too.”

“Trust me, Kir,” Abigail said, patting her friend on the knee as she reached for her coffee, “it'll be fun.”

It's only later that night as she was setting her alarm that Kira realised with a sinking feeling what day Sunday was. She just got roped into a double date on Valentine's Day.

---

Kira resolutely refused to dress up. She was still pretty sure Adam wasn’t going to show up, and she didn’t want to third-wheel in uncomfortable shoes. She wore the same head-to-toe black she always did - though she did slap on some red lipstick at the last minute in an attempt to appear “festive.”

She felt vindicated when Sunday evening came around and AJ was dressed much the same way she normally was, blouse and waistcoat and adorable but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to tame her copper curls. She cycled between checking her phone, wringing her hands, and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her shirt; it looked like only sheer force of will was keeping her from pacing the length of their living room.

“C’mon, Red,” Kira said fondly. She put her hands on AJ’s shoulders. “Relax. You’ve been on dates with Nate before.”

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day.” She somehow sounded even more nervous than she looked.

“First of many.” That finally drew a smile to Abigail’s face. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Hearts Festival,” she admitted quickly. “It was Nate’s idea, showin’ ‘em the local culture.”

“That’s… not a bad idea, actually.” Kira could feel herself relaxing under that knowledge. The Hearts Festival was a fair held every year in the Square, on or around Valentine’s Day. Most of the local artists and crafters set up little stalls of things intended to appeal to couples, but Kira and Abigail had found some of their favorite knick-knacks exploring it together. There was also music and cutesy romantic activities aplenty, but both of them were familiar enough with it that they could approach or avoid it on their own terms.

“Nate said Adam’s lookin’ forward to it,” the redhead said slyly.

“Nate was fucking lying.” Just like that her tension was back, which only made AJ smile wider. “I don’t think Adam knows how to look forward to things. Especially not when I’m involved.”

“Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. The brief measure of calm AJ had found was gone in a blink, nervously brushing a palm over her hair as if that might subdue it. Kira bit back a laugh and took pity on her friend, yelling, “It’s open!”

The door swung open and Nate and Adam stepped inside, the former immediately greeting his girlfriend with a warm smile, the latter scowling at nothing in particular.

Knowing her presence had been immediately forgotten, Kira ducked out of the way to avoid getting stuck between Nate and AJ as they gravitated toward each other like magnets. She busied herself with getting her coat on instead.

She only barely stifled a surprised gasp when Adam came over to help her with it. Neither of them said anything, looking anywhere except at each other.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to break the silence, grabbing the first topic that came to mind. “I’m surprised they talked you into this.” Her voice came out a little rough, so she cleared her throat and finally turned to face him, playful grin in place. “Did Nate have to blackmail you?”

A corner of his lips quirked up in a small smile. “Do you think I’m that averse to your company, Detective?”

She shrugged. “Valentine’s just doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, strangely reluctant. “Why did you agree to this, if you didn’t expect me to?”

“I’ve never been able to say no to AJ.” Kira glanced over at Abigail and her boyfriend, who may as well have been the only people in the room for the way they were wrapped up in each other. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll use it for evil.”

“Is it your thing?” he asked quietly, watching their friends as well. “All of… this?”

She scoffed. “Not really. I don’t think I’m a chocolates-and-flowers kind of girl.” She looked back at Adam to find him frowning at her words. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked disappointed. It woke up the butterflies in her stomach and compelled her to add, “I’ve never had anyone try to prove otherwise.”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply to that, scared of what exactly his answer would be, clearing her throat exaggeratedly instead. “Should I go? I can stay at the Warehouse tonight if you lot need to be alone.”

AJ and Nate paused, their lips a hairsbreadth apart as they’d both been leaning toward each other. Kira didn’t need vampire hypersenses to feel the frustration coming from both of them, though neither of them said anything about it; she tried not to feel guilty about interrupting them as they moved apart.

A few minutes later, the four of them stepped out into the cold February evening and began the walk toward the Square.

Nate and Abigail took the lead. They only made it a few steps before he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. They shared a brief, besotted smile before turning their attention back to the sidewalk, walking close enough that their shoulders bumped together.

Kira found herself staring at their linked hands as she walked behind them, something stirring in her chest that she might almost call jealousy, except she knew she wasn’t at all attracted to either of them. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted over to Adam walking next to her, only to find him already staring back. For a beat, their gazes held.

Then they both looked quickly away, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk and the light traffic on the road. Adam shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and after a moment’s hesitation Kira did the same.

The next few minutes were spent in tense silence, the only sound between them the snatches of conversation drifting back from the couple in front of them.

“Where are they taking us?” Adam asked suddenly.

“They didn’t tell you?” He shook his head and she smiled a little. “I only found out just before you arrived. They must’ve assumed we’d refuse as soon as we heard. It’s a little fair that they hold in the Square every year. I mostly just go for the food.”

“You’ve been before?”

“Sure.”

“With a date?” The question forced itself out through clenched teeth.

“Yes. I have a standing date with this cute redhead I know. About yea high,” she held a hand a few inches above her head, “lets me call her Red.” She watched in awe and amusement as the tension left Adam’s shoulders when he realised that his only ‘competition’ was the woman dating his best friend. Kira glanced fondly at the cute redhead in question, who looked back at her as if aware that she was being talked about. She winked at her, and Abigail grinned back. “I kinda thought I’d be spending the day alone this year,” she added quietly to Adam.

“You sound like you would have preferred that.”

“No.” It sounded like a lie, so she corrected herself. “Not exactly. I don’t mind the company. I just don’t like the crowds.”

They turned a corner and were hit by a wave of lights and noise as they entered the Square. Kira flinched under the onslaught more than either of the vampires did, but steadied herself quickly before anyone could fret over her.

The whole area was festooned with lights. Strings of white and pink and red fairy lights wound between poles and covered stalls. Everything was wrapped in ribbons and draped with flowers, and the notes of a familiar Elvis love song drifted to them from a small stage off to one side.

The night passed in a blur. Looking back at it, Kira wouldn’t be able to recall doing much more than just walking through the crowds, eyeing a couple interesting pieces of artwork and very fancy little cakes. She remembered the mulled cider Nate got her and the colorful bouquet he got AJ. She remembered being dragged into the photobooth with AJ, and standing on the sidelines of the dance floor watching her dance with Nate.

She remembered the way Adam stood next to her, a question on his lips that he still couldn’t quite voice. She remembered the single red rose that somehow found its way into her hand.

She remembered that she started the day feeling like she was being dragged along on her best friend’s date, and finished it wishing the date didn’t have to end.

When they arrived back at their apartment building, Kira and Adam acquiesced to their friends’ unspoken request and stayed downstairs to give them time to say good night properly. As soon as they were alone, the familiar silence fell between them, tense and comfortable in equal measure.

Surprisingly, it was Adam that broke it first. “Did you have a nice night, Detective?”

“You know what, I did. And one hundred percent less mirror mazes than our last date, that was nice.” She grinned when he chuckled at that. “I’m dying to see where people trick you into taking me next time.”

He didn't seem at all bothered by the prospect of 'next time.' His smile lingered, wide enough to show the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks. "If I recall, the last one was with Nate and Detective Jenings as well."

Kira leaned against the wall of the apartment building and said, as casually as possible, "True. Maybe we should plan the next one ourselves, then. Invite them along for a change.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” He didn’t seem bothered by that either, though his smile was stifled by the weight of the look he gave her, serious and intense and full of an emotion she couldn’t name.

She tried not to wilt under that look and instead met it with an answering one. “If I was, would you say yes?”

He moved a step closer, struggling between what he wanted to say and what he felt he should. She waited him out, like she always did. Eventually, all he said was “Kira…”

The sound of footsteps on the stairs meant she’d never get to know how the rest of that sentence went. She tried to swallow her disappointment when Adam stepped away again, and turned to smile at Nate as he joined them.

He smiled back, an absolutely giddy expression on his face. Kira knew she’d see an identical one on AJ’s face when she went upstairs. He put a warm hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he walked past and wished her good night.

She expected Adam to follow him, but he still lingered a moment more, brow knotted with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said, a bit too quickly. “I simply… wanted to thank you. For accompanying me.”

“Anytime.” The admission made her blush, but she didn’t take it back. “I-I should probably…” she gestured vaguely up the stairs.

“Of course.”

He reached out and took one of her hands in a gentle grip, moving slowly as if to give her a chance to pull away. As if she had any intention of doing so. As if she wasn’t holding her breath for fear that any gasp or sigh might scare him away. He bowed, the movement so formal that she could clearly see evidence of the knight he once was, and lightly brushed his lips over the back of her hand.

Whatever he saw on her face as he moved away again drew a smirk from him. “Good night, Kira.”

She released the breath she’d been holding in a serrated sigh. “Good night, Adam.” Her voice came out oddly high-pitched, but it made him chuckle again.

Then he was gone.

It took a couple minutes before Kira could remind herself to move and drag herself upstairs. AJ was waiting for her in the living room, grinning ear to ear and still clearly on cloud nine about her night with Nate.

Kira was starting to think she understood the feeling, just a little.

That surprised a giggle out of her, the sound so hopelessly smitten that there would be no way she could keep what just happened a secret. Abigail’s knowing look only confirmed it, her smile somehow even wider and Kira’s growing to match it.

On a whim, she grabbed the redhead’s face and kissed her firmly on the cheek. “You are the best friend and wingwoman a girl could have.”

“You’re welcome, Kir,” AJ chuckled. “Am I forgiven for draggin’ y’ out on Valentine’s Day?”

“You can drag me along wherever you want to. No more complaints from me.”

“I’m gonna remember y’ said that.” She dropped down onto the sofa, leaving enough room for Kira to join her. “Now tell me everythin’.”

#twc #kira kingston #abigail jenings #kira/adam #aj/nate #thank you for letting me borrow your girl cait <3 #and I'm sorry for interrupting that kiss lmao #you'd think kira would know better #hearts festival is based off a little fair we have here sometimes. I used to go with my sister :)

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ravusnightblossom · 3 years

Note

An attendant arrives with a basket of parcels and letters for the royal family most of which addressed to the Queen Oracle herself. However upon seeing the young prince they are quick to make a detour towards him.

❝ My Lord, a few letters came for you, from the ceremonial opening of the new reception hall. Some admirers, no doubt. ❞ There’s a not-so-subtle teasing quality to their voice but it’s quickly curbed as they hand off the letters with a bow of their head and take their leave.

And true, there are some letters carrying hints of perfume or flourishing calligraphy with heart dotted ‘i’s. But there’s one, more humble looking envelope with just a simple script and a plain card embellished with little sunflower and sylleblossom doodles.

There are a few scratched-out greeting starters;;

To His Royal Ma… Greetings Your... Howdy, High…

before

Dear Ravus,

My Ma always had a fondness for writing little notes and things to friends and family. I never really had anyone really far away worth writing to, but I figure now’s as good a time as any, right?! Anyway I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality in showing me around the estate for a bit. It was really interesting and kind of inspiring in a way. Like living in a fairy tale, but not ‘really’. I don’t know, I’m probably making too much of a fuss considering it’s your home and all. Oh goodness, look at me rambling in a letter as if I’m talking right to you!

I don’t even know if we’ll ever meet up to really talk face to face again. Chances like that are probably few and far between. Regardless, I want you to know that even if it was just a fleeting moment, it's one that I will cherish for a very long time. ♡

Sincerely, Cindy S. Aurum 🌻

P.s. Also sorry if I stepped on your toes... Not used to formal dances so I might need a bit of practice. ＞◡＜

Oh and tell Lady Lunafreya I said hi! I absolutely loved walking the gardens with her. Maybe there was more running, but still, it was so much fun!

Unprompted ask | always accepting | @topmechaniic

The constant hints of teasing were none too unusual, but they still drew a sigh from Ravus, none-the-less. “Thank you,” he said with a quiet response, taking the letters before retreating to his quarters. It wasn’t as if he felt much sentimental value to any of the notes and scribbles, but more that he opted to read them in peace to avoid anyone looking over his shoulder. If there was anything embarrassing in them, he would never hear the end of it!

He opened each one, reading some more thoroughly than others-- the ones that stank of perfume remained in front of him for less as long as the ones that did not. Ugh. He would never understand the obsession that girls had with smelling potently like flowers or candy...

The stack of letters he would respond back to was very small, compared to the ones he would file away and likely forget about. As the envelope with the sunflower on it caught his eye, Ravus’ head canted. That was... cute. Opening the piece of mail, his eyes skimmed the words and a small smile grew on his lips. Cindy... She was so kind and cheerful. How could his mood not be lifted when she was around? Interestingly enough, the letter seemed to have a similar effect.

Pushing all the other envelopes and papers aside, he reached for a quill and began to write a response...

𝒯𝑜 𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓎 𝒜𝓊𝓇𝓊𝓂,

𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒹𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒. 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹, 𝒶𝓁𝓈𝑜. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝐿𝓊𝓃𝒶𝒻𝓇𝑒𝓎𝒶. 𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃? 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒.

𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒 - 𝑜𝓇 𝐿𝓊𝓃𝒶𝒻𝓇𝑒𝓎𝒶- 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈. 𝒲𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌.

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹, 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓉. 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒? 𝐼 𝒲𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉.

𝒮𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, 𝑅𝒶𝓋𝓊𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓍 𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓉

Once he was finished, Ravus sealed the letter into an envelope, satisfied. He even took a moment to place the wave seal of Tenebrae on it before calling for a staff member to place it in the post, come morning.

#topmechaniic #(You've Been The Only Thing That's Right :: topmechaniic)#(Asks; “That will be quite enough!”)#(Omg. That's adorable.<3)

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spoocys-funhouse · 3 years

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A Decree from the Queen Potato:

So, I DO dabble in art a little, but I often say my art isn’t the best. as my style never really changed over the years and looks almost the same as it did back when I was in my high school years.

I don’t do digital art. at all. I can barely get colors/shading right on my pieces. I did try to do so ages past, but it looked worse than my original sketches.

nowadays, the only art program I am in possession of at this time is Microsoft paint. my printer with my scanner died ages ago and has since been tossed. there was no fixing it, as the printer broke and ate my ink cartridges. as in: it destroyed them and in turn it ruined my printer to the point it wouldn’t boot properly anymore.

if I want to draw something and upload it, I have to take a picture on my cellphone and upload it to my computer with a cord that allows the transfer of pictures.

despite this, I want to share something with all of you: Just because you don’t have really good skills, or the resources to make wonderful pieces, don’t let that deter you from sharing your creations with the world.

when I draw, I share the actual sketch from the paper I drew it on. it’s not perfect, but it does have uses.

especially if you plan to reach out for commissions in the future. it helps to have references for the characters/poses/etc. you want the artist to draw. it may not be the best, but it does give an artist insight on what you want in your piece precisely. like how you want the characters drawn overall, their basic attire, poses, etc.

and it becomes even more useful if you add notes to the piece, even if it’s just you scribbling a line towards a certain aspect of the reference that is considered important to the piece in question.

I eventually plan to add color swatches to my drawn references. since I do plan on reaching out for colored commissions in time once my funds are stable.

Yes. I admit my art style is not the best, but I still like sharing some of my art pieces from time to time. even if the drawing’s a little messy due to my eraser not getting all of the stuff out of a picture.

I’m actually working on a few references to share onto my Tumblr pages. the Rayman side blog included and my currently private other side blogs that I plan to release in the near future once I get those worked out and I’m comfortable enough sharing those. they are currently work in progress at this time.

Kahli’s not my only oc for Rayman universe. I have a few of them, and they have not been publicly or properly introduced as of yet like Kahli has. I plan to eventually share the reference sheets for her as well since:

1. I did share her general info on a long post on my Oc drop series, and that did not include a drawn reference for the lady.

and 2. I did reach out for a commission on her. (and @nausinoisette made the old Knaaren Mee-Maw so lovely! and I did share a drawn reference for that piece.)

My drawings may not be the best art pieces you ever seen, but it doesn’t hurt in the long run to share them!

you guys should think about that too!

Yes. I will be honest about this: there do exist bullies out here on the internet that will try to poke fun at these. Do NOT let that discourage you.

I myself have been exposed to these people. people who in my youth would bully me due to my terrible art skills online back when i was stationed on Deviantart. its one of the reasons I’ve removed my art and stories on Deviantart entirely as i don’t think its the best place for me to continue my art or my story projects due to my experiences. it wasn’t just because they were old and mostly outdated.

I am now seeking other outlets for my upcoming story projects. the bullying is also one of the reasons that I, myself, have been so dang hesitant to share my own drawing projects. i have recently come out of my shell about that.

there’s also a thread-discussion going on over on twitter about this topic I’m having with you all as well by user DallyCloud.

(keep in mind. the link has some... Cursed commissions shown. click at your own risk if you don’t like that stuff)

Even if you aren’t the best artist in the world, sometimes it does help others if you do share your art. You need that for commissions, and sometimes a friend of yours might need that to, say, draw you a gift or two down the line, and I know that plenty of artists love seeing pieces drawn for them by fans of their work!

(I have one friend who has done that numerous times in our friendship together and would ask me for reference material for certain characters, and she enjoyed the pieces I would make for her, even if they aren’t the best.)

Not everyone may like the piece you present, don’t let that bother you.

Art should be fun for you to create, not stressful. it’s the same principal if you are writing. books, stories, fanfiction. it should be fun, or it ruins the experience.

#Potato Ramblings #Long post #Artist Discussion #Potato Decree

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harringtonheartache · 5 years

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Daybreak | Part Two

Part Three

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part two of this fic. A less eventful chapter but a necessary one! Next part will be super fun n’ cute (-:

Word Count: 2,900+

Warning(s): Cussing

A/N: Here ya go! P.S. When I described Steve’s room I took from what little we saw of it in S1 + added some details of my own. I included the The Smiths poster because their debut album came out around the time of ST (1984) and I love their music & would like to think Steve would enjoy it too. & yes Queen and Joy Division are based on my own music taste as well.

“Okay, so this is my room,” he told her as he welcomed her into his bedroom with grand exclamation. “You can have my bed, I don’t mind the floor,” he said as he gathered a spare pillow and blanket from his closet. They were folded nicely, the work of his mother most likely. Disregardful of their neat composure, he tossed the bedding to the floor. She stared at her proposed sleeping arrangement for the night. His bed was double in size compared to what she was used to, presumably offering greater comfort as well. “I promise the sheets are clean,” he spoke up at her apparent reluctance. Her head moved swiftly in his direction, and he stood with a look of utmost sincerity. “Okay,” she told him. She wanted to thank him again, but did not allow herself when his attention fell from her and he went about setting up his own bed for the night.

She climbed on top of the surrendered piece of furniture, feeling the cushioned fabric beneath her as she did so. Her assumptions were correct, it was much nicer than her bunk at the lab.

“So tomorrow I have to go to school,” Steve said, bringing up a topic of conversation that needed discussing before they could sleep.

“School?”

“Yeah, it’s where people go to learn. I have to leave at 7 in the morning, and you can’t come with me, but I will be back by 3.” The panic returned. As much as she thought herself someone to take comfort in solitude, she knew herself someone to fear such a thing in unfamiliar environments.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be back. You can sleep the entire time I’m gone if you want, I won’t be that long. But you have to stay in this room. My mom will be home and she can’t know you’re here, remember?”

There were too many holes in the plan. “What if she comes upstairs?” Upstairs was supposed to be her hideaway.

“Um,” Steve returned to a place of deep consideration and planning. “Here,” he said. He moved the upper half of his body forward, partially abandoning his makeshift bed to reach underneath the one 009 sat upon. His hands emerged with a few belongings: a sweatshirt, one shoe, and an old backpack. He tossed these forgotten items in the direction of his closet, although they fell short of full entry.

“If you hear anyone come upstairs, hide under here,” he spoke again, confidence in his own scheme restored.

She gave him an inquisitive look. “Under the bed?” she questioned.

“Yes. I would tell you to hide in the closet but if she comes into my room she is probably putting clothes away in there. So, if you hear anything just go under the bed. There’s lots of room, it’s not that bad, and you probably won’t even have to. My mom doesn’t come in my room that much.” That much. To her, that sounded like a game of chance she didn’t care to participate in, but she complied nonetheless as she was grateful for anywhere to hide.

“Okay, under the bed.”

A procedure ready to be followed, spoken and memorized through one conversation.

“Oh, shit,” Steve exclaimed softly, mostly to himself. Standing from his place on the floor, he moved to find the door handle. With a small click, he locked it. The girl watched this action as he performed it much to her consternation. He began to settle himself again but was not able to completely do so without noticing her concern. “Oh, I-,” he started, “I’m not locking you in, I just don’t want my parents walking in here while we’re asleep. You can just turn that small lock on the knob to the right and it will unlock.” He explained this, his tone benevolent. She was appreciative of this clarification, and filed his thoughtful instructions away in her head for possible future reference. A smile was offered in response.

A few minutes passed, the lights no longer illuminating the entire room. Steve’s thoughtful nature did not end with the door lock however, as he left his desk lamp on to rid the girl of any worries pure darkness may have brought. They laid in their respective beds, 009 tucked under Steve’s own comforter that smelled pleasantly of him. It was a strange occurrence for her - sleeping in a bed that smelled of someone else. The scent became comforting; it served as a reminder that she was not sleeping in the same bed she had been in all of one night ago. She was not at the lab. “Hey, Steve?” she was ready to give him the thank-you she intended to give him earlier. He didn’t pause long before offering her a small hmm? to let her know he was listening, but long enough to take recognition of her first use of his name.

“Thank you”.

---

“Shit, where the hell- Are you kidding me I just- shit.” Steve’s thoughts dropped out of his mouth, loudly enough to wake up 009. She sat up quickly, a small gasp leaving her mouth; a gasp she hoped Steve didn’t hear once she realized where she was. Terror was still engraved into her mind, and it would take more than one night of sleeping safely for her to rid herself of this feeling. It had become her daily ritual to fear whomever she would face first thing in the morning.

“Oh, hey. Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up. Have you seen my- what the hell am I saying no you haven’t seen my backp- wait it’s in the car. Right?” He now spoke with a whisper to his tone. As opposed to last night, they were not entirely alone anymore. His parents were now home, and he couldn’t be heard talking to a person they weren’t supposed to know was there.

“Hey yesterday - in the car - did you happen to see a backpack in there?” She blinked a few times in substitution for a response. She had not yet fully returned to Steve’s bedroom from her state of sleep, or from her morning delusion that landed her momentarily in the lab. “I- I don’t know,” She now responded, but her answer did not help him any more than her silence had.

“Shit, well, I hope it’s in there.” He gave up on his bedroom search and now passed his attention to the task of putting on his shoes. “I’ll be back in a few hours, by 3:00, okay? There's a clock on my nightstand so you will know what time it is. And uh, remember your hiding spot if you hear anyone coming upstairs.” He told her these things with quickness to his words. She heard every one though, and chose to say “okay,” when she realized he was focused on tying his shoes and would not see her nod her head ‘yes’.

He now stood from the place he had been crouching on the floor. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He seemed averse to leaving her sitting neatly atop his bed. For a second he pondered who would be more questioning: his mother after finding her in his bedroom, or Hawkins High’s staff and students if they saw her following him through a day of school like a service dog. While the second option allowed him to stay by her side, number one presented itself as the best choice if she were to be discovered. This time she nodded to his farewell, an addition of her own voice leaving a “goodbye” at the gesture’s tail end. He smiled at her, a comforting gesture. Opening the door, he slid his body between the small area of room he left open for his departure. He did not even chance fully opening the door, for someone could be in the hallway. Her responsive smile faded as the door drew closed, and she sat unmoving where he had left her.

While he had originally told her that she could sleep the entire time he was away, she now thought that to be a bad idea since the conversation of someone walking in on her. Why couldn’t she just lock the door? She guessed it would arise too many questions, or just be entered anyway (using a key) without the repellent of a sleeping boy behind it. His family was polite enough not to disturb a resting person. The idea of family sat at the top of her mind, asking her who she could claim to be her own. She refused to answer that question, even to her own brain, recognizing the truth was not a single person. Instead she glanced to his nightstand, where his promised clock sat. 7:09 it read. She thought of getting up to explore his bedroom, the concept of privacy something she was without experience with, but told herself that she shouldn’t move. Moving produced sound, and she didn’t want to have to retreat to the underside of the bed she laid upon.

She settled on exploring with her eyes. His room was simple, the bed she sat upon was the centerpiece. The walls were covered with a white plaid wallpaper, and the curtains that hung in front of the window were patterned to match. The sun was already poking through the blinds, but she did not wish to close the curtains and mask the pale light. On the wall to her left was a poster that read The Smiths. Centered underneath it was a dresser, various items scattered across the top - a hair comb, a few tapes with names like Queen and Joy Division scribbled with slanted writing across the front, and a silver stereo to play said tapes on. She pulled the comforter up to her nose and sank a little - making sure that she could still see the gap under the door that provided half an inch of sight into the hallway. That half inch was going to be watched carefully, as if it could really give her significant insight as to what was going on through to the other side of it. She knew that if someone were to walk in right now, she would be fully visible, but tucked under the covers she still felt safer. Maybe part of it was that reassuring scent of the comforter.

---

2:32. The lock was still climbing to 3, but was now only 28 minutes away. Having abandoned the heat of the covers, the hiding girl who had remained in Steve’s bedroom all day sat cross-legged where she had slept that night. Twenty-eight minutes left, meaning that seven hours and thirty-two minutes had passed where she had not been disturbed. A soft beat: feet on carpeted stairs. A sound perhaps easy to miss if you were not waiting to hear it all day. Number nine heard it, and moved from her place on his bed for the first time that day. She pressed herself onto the floor quickly, using her hands to push herself under the bedskirt of the mattress frame. The sound came to a stop, soon replaced by the noise of a creaking door. She swore the door had not been that loud when Steve had left his morning. Becoming suddenly aware of her breathe, she began to hold it in her lungs. She doesn’t come into my room that much. Steve’s promise was now disproven, or perhaps today was the occurrence that had prohibited him from telling her that his mother did not come into his room at all.

Her hands were pressed to the floor in front of her, sure to be imprinted with marks of the carpet’s texture when she drew them away. She heard another door slide open - the closet. She mentally thanked Steve for choosing her hiding spot with consideration. How long would his mother be? The underside of a bed was no place to stay for the remaining 28 minutes. Perhaps it was closer to 25 now. From under the bed, she scooted backwards until her feet touched the wall. She wanted to be as far away as possible from the woman who threatened her discovery. Her discovery and likely return to the lab. More footsteps were heard now, but these were quick and heavy, someone besides his mom. They entered the room with haste, and the sound of the door hitting the back of Steve’s bedroom wall made 009 flinch. Was it his dad, was he home too? Under the bed, the girl closed her eyes. She had already stopped breathing and hoped that eliminating her sense of sight would somehow eliminate theirs too. A voice broke from the panicked entry. “Mom, hey! What-a- what are you doing?” It was Steve. Home 24 minutes early.

“I was just putting some stuff from downstairs back in your room, why? Is everything okay?” the voice without a face questioned. “Yeah! Yeah everything’s fine, I just have this uh-” Steve stumbled over his own words, trying to spit them out quickly so that he could check the underneath of his bed for the person he worried greatly about. The room looked just how he had left it, aside from her absence. For a second he questioned whether she was under the bed or gone completely. “I have this project I have to finish for tomorrow and I really need to hurry.” A weak lie, he would admit that, but one fitting of a teenager, and one his mother would eat up without question. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair,” she told him. With that last sentence, the soft beat of her steps resumed as she left the room. The door closed again - most likely Steve’s doing considering the amount of force recognizably used to do so. 009 did not move from under the bed, even with her confident suspicion that he was now the only person besides her in the room. “Nine?” he asked in a whisper, a whisper even softer than the one he had utilized this morning. He bent down, lifting the bedskirt a little too rapidly for her comfort. She flinched again. He sighed. “Oh thank fuck, are you okay?” She turned her head to him, meeting his eye with a look of unease. “It’s safe now,” he told her. He reached out a hand, offering her removal from her place of concealment. She took it; an act of trust in the person who eliminated the threat. She was pulled from the narrow opening beneath the bed frame, her feet leaving their place against the wall. Now she was able to stand, and let out her own sigh once she did.

“I’m so sorry, I came home as soon as possible. The traffic in the parking lot was just really bad and- I’m sorry I really didn’t think she would come up here.” He finished his hurried apology, getting it out quickly as if she would retreat back into her place of hiding if he were not fast enough. He turned around to pick up the plate he had abandoned atop his set of drawers during his panic. “Here, I brought you another sandwich,” he told her. The sound of glass leaving a wooden surface rang in the air as he lifted it to give to her. He smiled at her, a look of sincere apology. Her own face dropped the slightly hostile expression and picked up a smile of her own. “Thank you,” she said.

They both sat on his bed now, herself tearing the sandwich into smaller bites and him offering her conversation after hours of silence and seclusion. His explanation of his day fell to a conclusion. Hearing of a normal teenager’s life was both compelling and saddening to Nine. “Do you want to go out?” he decided to present her with a question. “Like to the store? We can buy you some things. You know, like necessities. Your own toothbrush, deodorant, things like that?” An afternoon out of his bedroom, appealing at first thought, but dangerous after a second. “What if someone sees me? They’re probably looking for me, it’s too unsafe,” she reminded him. It was like he had forgotten she was a fugitive. His expression abandoned delight and met dissatisfaction. “Shit,” his response was simple. They sat for another moment, her fingers fiddling with the crust of the wheat bread. “Wait,” he told her. He returned to the place where his mother had been earlier, peering into his closet. He removed from inside a hat, one with a thick brim. “You can wear this! I also have a pair of sunglasses in my car, they will cover your face. Plus you will be in my clothes so nobody will recognize you, right?” His tone was hopeful again. A promise he couldn’t make, but one he was confident in.

She pondered his proposal. It was not the best, certainly, but it was also one that her strong desire to leave the house made hard to shoot down. A hat and sunglasses. Was that all it would really take to keep her safe? Her eyes looked over the hat, studying the object she considered putting her complete faith in to protect her identity. Her eyes then traveled to Steve’s face. It wore a look of both longing and optimism. It made her trust him and his stupid plan a little bit more. “Okay,” she spoke up. “Let’s go.” The underside of her teeth met her bottom lip and she pulled it in to present him with a close-mouthed smile. He returned one, and added a laugh. He took a few paces forward, and extended his hand that held the hat. He watched her face, careful to only make contact if she was comfortable. Gently, he placed the hat on top of her head and smiled down at her. “I don’t even recognize you,” he told her jokingly.

#steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve x reader #st3 #ST fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things requests #steve harrington series #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #SCOOPS TROOP #robin #steve

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baepop · 5 years

Text

PRIVATE // 3

You attend the ill-fated party that changes everything.

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Jennie

Genre: Slight smut / Angst, angst, and more angst

A/N: Who are you guys rooting for? I want to know :)

The ride back to Jennie’s apartment was full of heavy silence, so loaded with her questioning stares and your unspoken frustration. Your leg couldn’t help bouncing up and down anxiously as you stared out of the window. Your mouth rested on your palm, covering your pained expression. It was a rare occurrence for you to cry, and much less over a guy, so you were willing yourself to get over it. You couldn’t though.

“We’re here babe.” Jennie’s voice was barely over a whisper. She’d never seen you this upset. It’s always her who needs to be comforted, so she was out of her element.

You wordlessly climbed out of the car and lead the way up to her penthouse. Taking your shoes off at the door, you rushed into her apartment and began pacing in front of the giant windows in between her living room and her kitchen. The sun was setting behind the skyscrapers that decorated the spectacular view thirty floors up, but you were two busy biting the nail polish off your freshly manicured fingers.

Jennie dropped her handbag on top of the dining table then settled down in a chair to watch your mental breakdown front row. She brought her foot up on the seat to rest her chin on her knee. The girl patiently waited until you paused to look out at the cloudless pink sky with your hands on your hips before clearing her throat. Your head snapped in her directed, realizing how rude you were being.

You turned your gaze back to the view before breaking the silence. “I’m sorry. I owe you an explanation. I’m just trying to calm down before I tell you everything.”

Jennie chewed on her bottom lip with furrowed brows. “It’s okay, you don’t need to explain. I think I already know what’s going on.”

You whipped around to stare at the girl who grew increasingly nervous in her chair. “What do you mean?”

“You saw Jungkook at the restaurant…didn’t you?” You dropped your hands limply to the side, utterly lost for words. Did she see me being an idiot at his table earlier? “I…sort of already knew he’d be there.”

“But...how? Ugh Jennie just tell me already. What the heck is going on!?” You rushed over to the table to sit next to her, but she refused to face you.

“Yesterday, I hung out with Jungkook at the bar. He left to take a phone call, and when Yoongi and I met up with him outside he seemed really frantic on the phone. It seemed like he was talking to a girl, and he didn’t want us to hear his conversation, so he agreed to meet her at that restaurant today before hanging up.” Jennie peaked at your face with a sheepish expression before continuing. “And when I woke up this morning, I realized he had been over last night because his jacket was laying on the couch. I hated thinking this, I really do Y/N,” she reached out to grab your hand, but you pulled away before she could, “but we needed to know if he was two-timing you. And obviously he was! I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

Jennie watched you with wide eyes as you scooted your chair back and stood over her. “Wow Jennie…that was...”

“Thoughtful?” She offered.

“Manipulative.” Your word wounded her deeply, and it shown in her crumpled expression. “Jennie, that was humiliating…and if you felt like he was shady why didn’t you just speak up!?”

Jennie sighed, “Because you wouldn’t listen! You’re sooo head over heels for this guy despite acting like you’re not! You needed to see for yourself!”

You drew in a shaky breath, “Jennie you had no right. I cannot believe you.” You turned towards the door, but your friend grabbed your arm before you could get far. This time it was her eyes that were glassy.

“Why are you acting like I’M the problem here? HE’S the one who’s the dirt bag! I don’t get why you’re so mad!”

You ripped your arm out of her grasp and looked her in the eyes. The sad and frustrated expression on her face would’ve normally worn you down by now, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive her, at least not right away. “No Jennie, you’re the problem here. You need to realize how fucked up your logic is.” You quickly stepped into your shoes and slammed the door on your way out. Jennie’s tears spilled over at the sound of the door’s echoes reverberating through her giant empty apartment.

“Why are you here again?” Yoongi flipped to the next page in his textbook and continued taking notes at his desk under the soft light of his lamp.

Jungkook laid in Yoongi’s bed with his arms crossed under his head staring at the ceiling. The two had been inhabiting the older boy’s bedroom for a while in comfortable silence.

“I don’t know man…I’m just frustrated. I can’t believe my luck right now. Out of all the places to run into her, why across town…and of all days, why tonight…?”

“Dude, you have to back up and start from the beginning. I don’t understand anything you’re saying to me right now.”

Jungkook explained his awkward run in with you at the restaurant just two hours ago. “Wait… so, she thought Jisoo was your date or something?” Jungkook nodded in response. “I mean she’s hot but, that’s just gross.” Jungkook chucked a pillow at Yoongi’s face as he laughed at the boy’s misery.

“Don’t talk about my cousin like that!” Yoongi held his hands up in defeat. “What should I do? She looked really upset. You know how rude J can be.” Yoongi nodded thoughtfully, recalling his own run in with the ice queen.

“You should just be transparent with her. She’s a reasonable person.”

Jungkook plopped back down on the bed and returned his gaze to the ceiling. “Yeah I know…but then I’d have to explain WHY I was seeing Jisoo and that’s not going to be a fun conversation. I just can’t shake the feeling of how weird this all was. Do you think she’s stalking me?”

Yoongi chuckled at the thought of you of all people stalking his friend. “There’s a zero percent chance of that being the case. That seems like something Jennie would do though,” Yoongi added nonchalantly as he scribbled notes in his notebook.

Jungkook scowled as the realization dawned on him. She must have been listening in on his phone call yesterday, he was sure of it now. Did she think she could cause problems between you two and get away with it? Jungkook sat up on the couch suddenly. His blood was boiling, and he needed to figure out a way to turn the tables.

“Thanks for the talk. I’ll see you in a few days for your party.” Yoongi barely acknowledged the younger boy’s departure as he focused on his notes for the big test coming up.

On his way to your apartment, Jungkook called your phone three times but you didn’t answer. His knocks on your door went unanswered as well, much to his disappointment. He hated leaving you alone to mull over something that just was not true, but he had no choice if you were avoiding him.

The boy sat down on your steps and tried your phone one last time before hearing the familiar beep of your voicemail. “Hey Y/N…You looked pretty upset earlier and I just wanted to make sure we were fine. I was having dinner with my cousin and we were discussing some private things. I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea. And I’m sorry about her demeanor. Call me back when you get this.” He slipped his cell back into his pocket then begrudgingly left your apartment.

Jennie turned the chrome knobs of her shower faucets until the water was exactly the way she liked it. The steady streams of liquid fire silently descended from her state-of-the-art waterfall showerhead, causing her vanity mirror to fog rather quickly. After brushing her long hair one hundred times exactly3, she slipped out of her plush robe and entered the shower. The water fell over her head, drenching her locks on the way down to her toes. She knew the hot water was awful for her hair but worrying about the details of her beauty routine was exhausting when she was already worrying about tons of other things. You were at the top of those things.

A few days had passed since she last talked to you. It was easily the longest time apart the two of you had spent since becoming friends. Although she wanted nothing more than to call you or show up to your apartment unannounced, her pride was getting in the way. She just couldn’t believe she was the one getting the short end of the stick despite trying to help you. Although, if she was being entirely truthful, it was for her own benefit. She began thinking that perhaps you were right, perhaps she did need to figure some things out. Jennie never had anyone in her life who would reprimand her and tell her when she was doing things wrong, not until you. It made her love you so much more for it.

Still, she couldn’t allow herself to come crawling back and beg for you to give her the time of day, at least not right away. All Jennie ever wanted to do was be around you, know what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. She tried not to think about her feelings for you, choosing instead to occupy herself with other things when she wasn’t hanging out with you. The truth was that it scared her to death. She never felt like this about anyone. Jennie had dated countless boys and all types including bad boys, ivy leaguers, guitarists from up and coming bands, even a politician once. Nothing was as thrilling as sleeping next to you.

At first, she thought she had finally found the kind of friendship she had grown up seeing on TV; the kind where you’d do anything for each other, no questions asked, the kind where you’d drop everything and come running no matter what, the kind that would rival the longest marriages. While all that was true, she eventually realized that’s not all this was. Jennie realized she was in love with you on the night she saw you flirting with a woman for the first time.

Jennie had known you were bisexual, but she had never given it a second thought, nor had she ever analyzed her own sexuality for that matter. So, her reaction to seeing you seduce someone else came as quite a shock to her. Squirting cherry blossom scented body wash onto her bath sponge, she recalled that crystal clear memory. It was the day after that one stressful test. You had spent the entire week indoors, studying your ass off. Once it was over, all you wanted to do was go out and have some fun. She remembered you telling her you preferred calm pubs over crowded clubs, so it came as a surprise to Jennie when you invited her to go clubbing that night. She remembered the exact outfit you wore too: a little black dress with a light jean jacket and black doc martens. Normally you wore your hair down, but that night you decided on an updo with wispy curls that framed your face.

When you both arrived at a club in the downtown district of the city, you realized it was Latin Night. Jennie was never much of a dancer, so she was content with sitting at the bar and watching your expert salsa moves on the floor from afar. She hadn’t seen you that carefree and graceful before. Your sheer magnetism and confidence had entranced her, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be you or be under you. As if the universe was trying to send her a sign, the redhead who was sipping her drink at the bar two seats away decided to make her way to you on the dance floor. The guy you were reluctantly dancing with was getting a little handsy, and the redhead arrived just in time to save you from him. She had grabbed your hand, spun you around then wrapped her arms around your neck. The male stranger immediately took the hint and backed off, and you were oh so grateful for it. Jennie remembered how you placed your hands on her hips after the mysterious woman began swaying them wildly from side to side.

It happened long ago, but the memory still stung just a bit. It also turned her on a lot. Jennie’s nipples hardened as she pictured the way you romanced that woman. Taking her time rubbing the suds on her stomach and around her breasts, she closed her eyes and suddenly she was at the club again. She watched intently as you held her tightly to you, grinding on her leg in time to the beat of the song. You both smiled at one another, never leaving each other’s eyes. It seemed that the redhead thought you were the funniest person in the world with the way she threw her head back in obnoxious laughter. At that moment, you subtly leaned into her neck and took a whiff of her perfume. It seemed no one noticed such an intimate move, not even the redhead, but Jennie did.

Amidst the steam in her shower, Jennie began pinching her right nipple with her right hand. Her left hand slowly traveled downwards past her navel to her sex. Her breathing grew shallow as her memory played like a projector in her mind.

She remembered how you spun her around as the beat slowed down, so the redhead was grinding on your front. The more she rotated her hips the harder you gripped onto her. As if feeling brazen from your reaction to her dancing, the amber-haired seductress dipped into a squat and rubbed her ass on you the entire way up, flipping her hair cheekily in the process. Jennie could tell you were already feeling the effects of the liquor you had downed before heading to the dancefloor. The lazy smile on your face from her move had Jennie squeezing her glass of liquor tightly in envy. She wished so badly that she could reverse time so she could be the one to steal you away from the guy with grabby hands. Just then, a broad chest blocked your view of the dancers. Jennie’s look of annoyance wasn’t enough to deter his advancements. The blonde stranger chatted away about playing some sport, but Jennie was too focused on watching you two to pay any attention to him. Nodding and throwing “mhm’s” his way every once in a while was all she could manage as she watched you two from the bar.

Jennie’s fingers swirled around her clit. Sighs of contentment and light moaning could be heard from beyond the glass that lined her shower. Jennie’s body writhed in pleasure as she recalled your brazen actions that fateful night. As the sexy stranger grinded on you, you moved her hair off her shoulder, but not without lightly touching the exposed skin on her collarbones and holding up a few strands close to your face. You then leaned into her ear and began whispering things to the girl that made her smile and close her eyes. Jennie surmised that you had suggested they take a break and get a drink, probably because the male onlookers your show had attracted was becoming quite obvious, even to Jennie who was perched at the bar. As the two of you made your way towards her hand in hand, your eyes met Jennie’s. You smiled, looking in between her and the man who was in her way, wiggling your brows. Jennie smiled halfheartedly, realizing you weren’t feeling the same jealousy that she was. She didn’t care the way you did.

Jennie was growing wetter and wetter by the second, and it had nothing to do with the water dowsing her body. She bit her lip as she dipped a finger into her core. She placed a foot on the rim of the shower to get better access and held onto the wall for support. She curled her finger to reach her g-spot and thought about what that night would have been like if she had been braver. She could almost feel what your hands might feel like, gripping her hips that same way. Jennie began panting at the pleasure she was feeling. She slipped another finger in, pumping them in and out with increased speed. Taking turns rubbing each breast, she bit her lip and imagined what it might have felt like for you to whisper filthy things in her ear, for your finger to caress her skin, to feel you pushing your body up against her.

Jennie’s eyes burst open as the telling signs of her orgasm shown. Her walls clenched around her fingers and her toes curled involuntarily. She barely registered the curses slipping from her lips, reveling in images of you and her enthralled in the heat of romance.

As the pale brunette toweled off in her bedroom, she finished recalling the memory of that night. She had watched you flirt with the redhead for nearly an hour before deciding to feign illness. She barely had to act, since watching the two of you together really had made her sick to her stomach. She blew off the muscular blonde and interjected in between you two as the redhead was in the middle of telling you a story. Thankfully, you immediately jumped to your feet and agreed to take her home. The sexy stranger’s soured expression at your goodbyes made Jennie secretly happy, as if inflicting a karma that the girl had unknowingly accrued. When you two reached the doors of the high-rise building, she begged you to stay the night to which you conceded. As if another cosmic sign had presented itself to the lucky girl, you left the crumpled-up phone number that the redhead slipped you on Jennie’s nightstand unknowingly. When you phoned her the next day asking if she had seen the small piece of paper, Jennie assured you she hadn’t but would keep an eye out for it.

She pulled her drawer out and picked up the piece of paper she had kept from you. She never understood why she refused to throw it out, but now it was quite clear. The paper served as physical proof of the intentions you were accusing her of, like some kind of righteous magnetic force, she couldn’t escape the truth of her deceitful behavior.

It had been almost a week since you’d spoken to Jennie and Jungkook. It was also the slow season for retailers, so the unstimulating hours at work each day afterward gave you lots of time to reflect on the situation.

While Jungkook had reached out several times, you still had yet to receive a simple text from your best friend. This didn’t surprise you in the slightest, however. Jennie was not the best at making amends, much less making the first move. You weren’t sure that you were ready to make up anyway. You hated feeling like her little puppet, like you were too stupid to realize what was going on without her help. And listening to Jungkook’s voicemail explaining what was really going on made your fight with Jennie worse because it confirmed how willing she was to come between you two without knowing all the facts. You weren’t any better though, because you quickly assumed the worst too, which is why you still hadn’t answered Jungkook’s messages. You were older than him, yet you felt you handled the situation immaturely and you hated it. You wanted to spend a few more days sulking alone, but Yoongi was being extremely persistent on getting you to attend his house party tonight. You laid on your couch with your head hanging off the edge staring at his name flashing on your cell phone’s screen. With a groan, you answered the call, “What do you want from my life?”

“Get over here now. The party’s already started and you’re going to be doing some serious catch up if you don’t get a move on.” Yoongi spoke closely into the receiver as the music blared in the background. He wanted to beg you to come over because he was tired of seeing Jungkook’s face drop every time someone walked in and it wasn’t you. “Come on. You’ve been all moody and MIA for days now. It’s starting to weird me out.”

You groaned extra loudly into the receiver knowing he was right. You couldn’t hide out forever, and you weren’t a coward who avoided fun parties where you knew a certain someone might be. “Give me 20 minutes.” You abruptly ended the phone call and dragged your feet every step of the way to the closet to find something to wear.

Yoongi sighed with relief as he put his phone in his back pocket and headed to the kitchen for another drink. The sight of Jennie swaying drunkenly atop his marble counter stopped him in his tracks. “Uhhhhh…when did you get here Jen?”

“I let myself in through the back. What’s in this jungle juice by the way? I’m totally feeling it right now.” Yoongi tried to take the red cup out of her hand but she moved it out of his grasp, sloshing the liquid toward the cabinet.

“Dude you’re way too drunk way too early. Slow down.” He tried to grab the cup once more, but she mushed his face away with her free hand.

“Stop it. I’m sad. I need this. Leave me alone.” Jennie pouted childishly into her cup. Yoongi sighed and retreated to the fridge to make his own drink.

“Why is everyone so goddamn sad right now? I need new friends.” The blonde boy slammed the fridge and headed into the living room to rejoin the party.

It was only 10 minutes later that you joined the party. Jungkook had been too busy cheering on one of his friends who was shotgunning a beer to notice your arrival. Yoongi, however, saw you at once and pulled you to the side.

“Come with me.” Yoongi grabbed your forearm and led you to the kitchen. “We need to get you drunk. And more importantly you need to make Jennie fun because she’s really stinking up the party right now.” As you entered the kitchen, you immediately noticed the brunette animatedly conversing with a stranger by the fridge. The guy looked happy you two had come in and took his chance to escape the conversation, and the kitchen for that matter, as Jennie turned her attention on you. “Please handle this.” Yoongi pushed you in her direction before busying himself with making your drinks.

You figured she hadn’t told him about your fight, or else he wouldn’t be acting the way he was. You tongued the inside of your cheek and crossed your arms while Jennie pretended you weren’t even there. The pale girl flipped her hair and sipped on her drink, staring ahead. You snatched the cup out of her hand and placed it out of her reach. “OK, that’s enough. You’re way too drunk, I can already tell.”

“Why do you care? Jungkook’s in the living room if you haven’t noticed. Why don’t you join him so he can deceive you some more?” Jennie rolled her eyes.

“You know what, Jennie? I think I will. Excuse me.” Yoongi’s eyes followed you as you marched out of the kitchen angrily. He immediately realized what was going on and felt bad for pushing the two of you together.

You found Jungkook sipping from his cup on the couch. His eyes instantly locked with yours as you entered the room and you noticed how rosy his cheeks were already. His hair was curlier than usual, and he wore those ripped jeans that drove you crazy. Fuck, he’s way too hot. Without hesitating, you grabbed his drink and downed the entirety of it in seconds. The boy stared at you in confusion and admiration. The taste of the liquid was extremely tart and unnaturally sweet, but you didn’t care. When Yoongi appeared by your side with the drink he had made you, you did the same to that one as well.

Wiping your mouth with your hand, you turned towards Jungkook. “Can we talk?” He nodded in response before you lead him into Yoongi’s bedroom. You closed the door softly and turned to the boy who had plopped down on the bed. His expectant stare made you blush, or maybe it was the alcohol kicking in already. The way his thighs spread out has he comfortably supported himself with his hands behind him made your mouth go dry, but his expectant stare had you clearing your throat. “I’m sorry I’ve been so lame. I’m thankful you called to explain what happened, because I definitely got the wrong idea,” you chuckled nervously before continuing, “But to be honest, I’ve been in a shitty mood after arguing with Jennie that night, so I’ve been avoiding this conversation. But we’re both here now and…I’m realizing I should’ve just called you back.” Your blush crept over your face and made your complexion the color of a tomato.

Jungkook’s smile had grown twice in size after listening to you rambling. He was peeved with you at first but quickly became enamored with your bravery. His smug expression only flustered you more. “Yeah, you should’ve called me back. But you’re right, we’re here now. So how are you going to make it up to me?” The way his head tilted back exposing the veins on his neck instantly had you thinking filthy things. However, you didn’t want to make having sex with him within earshot of other people a regular occurrence. The liquor flowing through your system, however, did not agree one bit.

“I…I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me how I can make it up to you?” You swallowed thickly as Jungkook got up from the bed and made his way to you still standing in front of the door. He stopped with only a few inches of space in between you. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, he inhaled deeply, making your baby hairs stand at attention. He then brushed his lips so lightly along the soft skin below your ear that you weren’t sure whether he really did it or not. As he brought his hand up to your face, he pulled on a curl of yours so that it sprang back once he let go. A shiver ran down your spine, making his cocky crooked smile return. You stared at his lips, willing them to make contact with yours, but instead, the words you least expect to hear from him tumbled out of them.

“Be my girlfriend?” You stared at his mouth forming the words, unable to understand them for some reason. When your eyes shifted upwards to gaze at his innocent expression, you realized exactly what was going on.

“You’re asking me to be your girlfriend? After I made a scene in front of your cousin then ghosted you?” You couldn’t help your giggles that followed.

Jungkook laughed and tipped your chin up with his finger to get a better look at your face. “Yeah, I guess I am. Look, I don’t know any other girl that would’ve had me at the palm of their hands this past week without so much as a text. I like you. And I’m not willing to share you. So, what do you say?” Jungkook squeezed your nose playfully, making you giggle again and swat his hand away.

Suddenly the memory of his weird behavior before he went down on you came creeping back. “Why do you keep insinuating that you’d have to share me? Did your ex fuck you up that bad Jeon?” Your joke seemed to have hit a nerve as his smile faded.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the only one who’s interested in you Y/N.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his statement because he didn’t understand how utterly single you were. “What’s so funny?”

“You. You’re what’s funny. The fact that you think you have to compete with anyone else is hilarious. Look, I don’t really do the whole girlfriend thing but it’s sweet that you care about that kind of thing.” You attempted to curl your arms around his neck, but he stopped you before you could.

“Well it’s important to me and I’d like it if you reconsider.”

“Why is it so important to you?” You stared into his eyes but he avoids your gaze. Before you could press him for answers, there was a loud knock on the door that startled the both of you. You opened it to see Yoongi on the other side.

“Please don’t fuck in my room,” Yoongi remarked as he looked between you both.

Jungkook placed his hand on your hip and kissed your temple. “Don’t worry, we’ll find somewhere else to do the deed.” He then lifted you off your feet and proceeded to carry you away. You squealed at his unexpected notion as he carried you back to the kitchen. The curly haired boy placed you on the counter a few feet away from Jennie then wrapped your legs around his waist. “So, where were we? Oh yeah, you were agreeing to be my girlfriend!” He smiled widely up at you so you just couldn’t help but run your fingers through his silky raven locks.

Boys like him were so dangerous. You’d agree to anything he wanted from you just so he could look at you this way again, like you’re the only girl in the world. But you’d been through this before. You’d done the whole gross couple young love thing and you found out you just weren’t cut out for it. You hated sacrificing your needs and your wants to accommodate someone else. You hated having weird domestic expectations thrust onto you when all you wanted was to fuck and maybe have some stimulating conversation afterwards if you felt like it. Maybe it was the utter boredom of your last relationship that turned you away from doing relationships at all, maybe it was the exciting hookups that had turned sour after making it a regular thing. Either way, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give Jungkook exactly what he wanted, so you were hoping he’d be willing to compromise.

Jennie’s sounds of disgust broke the silence between you two. You looked over at her and realized she was witnessing your tender moment with Jungkook. You were getting so fed up of her negativity that you turned back to the cute boy between your legs and said, “Ignore her. Say something to convince me to let you have me all to yourself.” He met your smirk with his own, leaning in to steal a soft kiss from your lips.

“Wow Y/N, I didn’t know you were so into fuckboys,” Jennie remarked casually.

“As opposed to what? You?” Jungkook spoke up with pure venom directed at the drunken girl. You stared between the both of them, confused as to what was going on.

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jennie squeezed her cup and glowered at the tall boy.

“Sure you do! Why don’t you just admit that you’re madly in love with Y/N already? Everyone knows it.” Jennie chewed on the inside of her lip, unable to say a word. “Y/N, I’m sorry for being so frank, but you have realize she’s getting in the way of us for a reason, right?”

You looked back at Jennie whose piercing dark eyes were still trained on Jungkook as if his head would spontaneously combust if she focused hard enough. You turned back to Jungkook who was returning her hateful stare. “Jennie’s my BEST FRIEND Jungkook. Just because she cares about me doesn’t mean she’s in love with me.”

“So I suppose her bragging to me about sleeping in your bed every night is a show of friendship too, huh?” You couldn’t understand what he was saying, and why they hated each other so much. It was obvious they developed more of a relationship than either of them let on. But there was no way Jungkook’s words held any merit. They couldn’t. You looked back at your friend whose cup was shaking in her trembling hands.

“Jungkook! That’s enough. You’re upsetting her. What’s the matter with you?” You pushed him away so you could console Jennie, but she had already gone out the back door.

“What’s the matter with me?! Seriously Y/N? Are you that blind? That girl wants you and for some reason you’re none the wiser.” You looked up at Jungkook feeling as if you didn’t recognize him anymore. Before you could register what you were doing, you slapped him so hard your hand tingled. He clutched his throbbing cheek and regarded you incredulously. Before he could say anything, you were already out of the door in search of your friend.

It was very dark in Yoongi’s backyard due to the lack of lighting on his back porch and the late hour, not to mention there were a ton of trees that offered the house privacy from the neighboring houses. You had to squint to spot her. Jennie was stumbling through the grass holding herself up on a tree. You were no doubt already drunk yourself, so you tried not to trip as you hurried over to the girl.

“Jennie! Wait up!” You called out to your friend, but she walked deeper into the foliage ignoring you. When you finally caught up to her you grabbed her shoulder and turned her towards you. “Jennie!” As you looked at her face you realized she was crying. You hated when she cried. “I’m really trying here. But I don’t know what to do. How do I fix this?” You buried her head in your chest as her sobs wracked her thin frame. She wrapped her arms around you and held you tightly close to her. Her tiny sniffles broke your heart every time you heard one slip out. “Babe…it’s not like you to cry when someone’s being mean to you. Is it ‘cause you’re drunk?” You crooned your words as you rested your chin on her head. She shook her head “no” in response. “Then what is it?”

Jennie looked up at you. You could barely make out her tear stained cheeks in the darkness. She uncurled her arms from around you to place her hands on your shoulders. Suddenly she was pushing you against the nearest tree with enough force to let loose the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Her cold fingers knotted themselves in your hair as she leaned in to crash her lips against yours. Your entire body was frozen with pure shock. Time stopped as her fervent lips pressed into your still mouth, willing them to return the sentiment. Jennie was kissing you and you didn’t know how to react, so you settled for just letting it happen. Your mind struggled to process the moment, but your body had other ideas. Your hands, which were glued to the rough bark of the tree, found a new home on her waist. Your lips began imitating the rhythm that her mouth was setting. Soon you were holding her body against yours and leaning into her to deepen the kiss. The unexpected passion lit something inside of you and suddenly you needed more. Both of your hands began exploring each other’s bodies. Hers took turns resting on your cheeks then on the back of your neck as yours glided across her lower back then down to her upper thighs. A small voice at the back of your head repeatedly asked you what the hell you were doing right now, but you didn’t have any answers for it.

Leaning down to find the back of her knee, you hiked her leg onto your hip as your other hand got a full grip on her hair. You tugged at it until her neck was exposed to you and began planting open mouthed kisses on her alabaster skin. Jennie’s soft mewls barely disturbed the stillness of the night. “Is this what you wanted from me?” You manhandled Jennie with her hair, willing her to look you in the eyes. Her blown out pupils could only focus on your puffy lips as her chest heaved dramatically. “Answer me!” You turned your bodies so that she was now caged by you against the tree. From beyond your hidden spot in the woods, you could see the back door swinging open to reveal a few students from the party spilling out into the backyard.

The low buzzing of the far-off conversations sobered Jennie enough to look up at you. “Well, I guess Jungkook was right after all.”

You backed off the tree to see the serious expression on her face. Her words brought back the anger you still hadn’t worked through. “What the hell is happening here Jennie? You’re not gay. Is this another one of your manipulative moves to get me away from Jungkook?!”

“You don’t know what the hell I am!” Jennie screamed back at you. Her sudden outburst alerted a few of the stragglers by the back porch, so you pressed your hand tightly against her mouth to keep her quiet until they stopped looking into the wooded area. Jennie pulled your hand away so she could continue, “Stop being so naïve Y/N. I just needed to know that you wanted this too. And you do.”

You stared at the girl, realizing you didn’t recognize her either. You wanted to scream and call her a psychopath, but goddamn you also wanted to taste her again too. Without a warning you took her face in your hands and kissed her intensely. Instead of kissing you back, she bit your bottom lip roughly and dragged it out.

Jennie struggled to get her words out as you both stood there panting, centimeters from each other’s mouths. “I’m tired of waiting for you Y/N. I want you. And you want me too. So I’m leaving this party to go climb into your bed. And I won’t be wearing much when you find me. Don’t keep me waiting.” With that, Jennie pushed herself off the tree and started walking back towards the house. You turned your back and leaned on the tree for support, feeling how fast your heart was beating with your clammy hand.

“I’m drunk right now. I’m so drunk right now.” You said aloud to yourself as you tried to process what the hell was going on. Your best friend wants to fuck you tonight, meanwhile the boy you’ve been dating is inside with a red cheek. “OMG, Jungkook!” You gasped aloud and hurried inside to make amends with him, only for Yoongi to tell you that he jetted off 15 minutes ago.

“What the hell happened Y/N!? He said you slapped him then left the party! You are the least dramatic person I know, so this doesn’t sound like you at all.” Yoongi admonished you quietly by the front door as his party guests busied themselves with the brand-new keg that had just arrived.

“Ugh Yoongi, I know! I think I‘ve seriously screwed things up and I don’t know how it got away from me. Those two just…they just get my blood boiling!” You covered your eyes as your head thudded against the wall. “Everything’s all screwed up.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and placed his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N, don’t be so dramatic! Jungkook is head over heels for you. I’m sure if you just go over to his place and apologize, he’ll forgive you! As far as Jennie’s concerned…well I don’t know. You’ve really got your hands full with that one.” You groaned as he chuckled humorlessly. “Come, let’s get you some liquid courage so you can deal with your messy life.” Yoongi ushered you forward toward the keg as you reluctantly led the way.

Twenty minutes later you were laughing at the top of your lungs listening to a story from a theatre major. By now, there were twice as many people in the room and the simultaneous conversations occurring made it hard to hear. Your drink sloshed around in your cup as you drunkenly traded stories with the group of people keeping you company. Your entire body was warm and buzzing from all the beer you had consumed in record time. You had finally started to forget about the love triangle you were in before your phone buzzed in your pocket. Without a second thought, you pulled it out to see what the notification was. Jennie texted you a picture. When you unlocked your phone to see what she had sent you, you almost dropped your phone inside of your drink. Holding It to your chest, you looked around to see if anyone had noticed what was on your screen. Since no one seemed to be paying any attention to you, you slowly tipped your phone back to get a better look. It was a picture of Jennie laying on your bed, wearing a red lace lingerie set. You gulped as your eyes traced the curves of her body barely covered by the delicate material. The bright color against her perfect skin turned you on. She was laying sideways on your bed on top of rumpled sheets. Her shiny hair seemed to have been falling off her shoulder mid picture. Her top leg was folded over the other, showing you just a little bit of her ass cheek. Her head rested against her palm and the other laid on her thigh in a pose that said “I’m bored, get over here already.” You chuckled at the thought of her propping the phone up against your windowsill and striking a pose. You knew her like the back of your hand.

You also remembered exactly where that lingerie set was from, because you helped her pick it out. A few months ago, Jennie had dragged you all around the mall during a routine shopping trip. Only this time, to end it off, she led you into an Agent Provocateur to pick out a full set of lingerie. You smiled at the memory of her rudely turning the salesperson away in favor of your expertise. You made your way along the decorated wall, feeling all kinds of fabrics and cups and beaded designs with your fingers until you settled on a beautiful balcony bra with a matching panty, and garter belt.

“Who’s this for?” you remember asking her during check-out.

She blushed and answered simply, “For someone special.”

You locked your phone and put it away to contemplate on what to do. On one hand, Jennie was waiting for you to show her a good time. And boy did you really want to. On the other hand, if you waited too long to make amends with Jungkook you may end up losing him for good. But if you kept Jennie waiting, she might get mad and leave which would prolong your fight. You also weren’t ready to end whatever this thing that was going on between you two was. You sighed and closed your eyes. Either way someone was going to be hurt, and you hated it. What would you even say to Jungkook? What would you say to Jennie? It would be all too easy to just stay here with Yoongi and pretend tonight didn’t happen, but you knew you couldn’t.

However much you tried to simplify the situation, you knew it was way more complicated than just choosing someone. They were both making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a really long time. But it seems Jennie isn’t out of the closet yet, so you knew this thing with her would not be easy by any means. She was also your best friend and continuing to go down this road with her could lead to your friendship being completely over. The thought of never speaking to her again was painful.

You downed the rest of your drink and said your goodbyes to the nice strangers who were sad to see you go. Yoongi was busy chatting up a girl by his bedroom door, so you decided to leave without saying anything to him. As you walked down the block, the brisk air licked at your rosy cheeks, but the alcohol in your system kept you too warm to care. You knew Jungkook’s dorm was only a few blocks away, so you decided to just walk instead of Uber, hoping that the fresh air would clear your head so you’d know just what to say.

After a few minutes, the grey exterior of the residence halls came into sight. Your stomach flip flopped, knowing you’d be seeing Jungkook again. You bit your lip, thinking about how sweet it was that he insisted on making you his girlfriend. You really should try to keep your hands to yourself, what a mess they’ve made tonight.

Once you reached the steps leading to the door of the lobby, you took a seat and called Jungkook. He didn’t answer so you sent him a quick text asking if he could open the door for you. Five minutes passed without any sign of him. You weren’t sure if he was sleeping or just ignoring you. Either way, you weren’t giving up.

12:06 am – Open the door Jeon. We need to talk.

12:07 am – I need to see you right now. Don’t leave me hanging out here.

12:09 am – Please?

The door swung open in the middle of you typing your next text to Jungkook. You turned around to see him holding a frozen bag of peas up to his face as he held the door for you. You smiled with relief and let yourself into the building. As he led the way to his room, you focused on what he looked like from the back. It seemed he had showered and changed into his pajamas on your way here. His pants hung low on his hips, exposing his boxer briefs just a bit. You gulped and looked upwards to deter your inappropriate thoughts. Instead, you focused on how his hair bounced subtly with every step he took. If you were sober, you’d be planning what to say to him right now. Drunk you, however, was content with absorbing every bit of his presence.

You caught the door to his room as Jungkook opened it and entered. He placed the cold pack of vegetables back into his mini fridge then sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh. You stood in the center of his bedroom, unsure of what to do. When he finally looked at you, you realized just how mad he was.

When you refused to speak first, Jungkook initiated the talk, “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I told you, I really needed to see you.” Your voice sounded so small you couldn’t believe it was coming from you.

“Y/N…you don’t want to be with me. You should’ve just sent your apology over text. I can take a hint.”

You could understand why he felt this way, but it still upset you nonetheless. You crossed the room to sit next to him on the bed. “Jungkook…I’m sorry that I slapped you. Believe me, I feel really guilty looking at that giant red mark on your cheek. I won’t make excuses for my behavior, but I also need you to understand that what you did tonight was not cool.”

“I know,” Jungkook answered before you could get the rest of your speech out, “What I did to Jennie was fucked and I need to apologize to her. Outing her like that…it definitely wasn’t cool. But Y/N…” He paused to run his fingers through his hair frustratedly. He looked at you and smiled bitterly. “I really fucking like you. I’m just not sure I fit into your life. At least not in the way that I want to be in it.”

You gently turned Jungkook’s face towards you so he could see the honesty in your words. “Jungkook, I really fucking like you too. And I think you’re wrong. I think it’d be really stupid to end things here. As long as we’re both open and honest with each other from now on, I don’t see why we can’t still get to know each other.” Jungkook searched your eyes before looking down at his feet to mull over your words.

You held your breath waiting for his reply. When he finally looked up at you, he said, “Then stay with me tonight.” You stared back at him, knowing the statement wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. If you agreed, then you’d be standing Jennie up. If you left, then things would definitely be over between you. His wide-eyed expression was too much for you to handle. Fuck.

“Sure. I’ll stay.” Jungkook smiled with relief. It was only just past midnight, but you were both already spent. As he laid down and patted the spot beside him, you placed your phone on the nightstand next to him then removed your pants. Climbing over him to claim your spot next to the wall, you laid down on your side to be little spoon. Jungkook reached over and turned off the lamp, leaving you both in the dark.

#bts fanfiction #blackpink fanfic #jungkook smut #jennie smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #bangtan #private #private fanfic #baepop private

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dancing-deacon · 5 years

Text

In Only Seven Days

(Joe!John x Reader)

(A/N) I just want to say a huge shoutout to @rogertaylor-stole-my-heart ( @blissfully-queen )and for her writing challenge because it actually got my creative juices flowing once again! This is based off the Queen song by the same name so check it out! Also this took me forever I suck lol I wasn’t creative and was in a rut and all that. But enjoy!!

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, angst, toxic ex’s

Word Count: 4.3+k

Monday the start of my holiday

Freedom for just one week

Feels good to get away ooh

“It’s only a week, Laura, I just…need to get away,” You breathed out those heavy words, looking down at your sparkly white toenails peeking from your new strappy sandals.

“I know but, (Y/N) I’m worried. It’s only been six days. I mean, you were engaged for Christ sake. Are you sure leaving is right?” Your sisters voice pierced through the phone. Her growing concern for your actions growing with each remembrance of the past week. She had found you sobbing on the bedroom floor, the carpet drenched from your tears. The note in your hand crumpled to oblivion, she could barely make out the words scribbled in your fiancés early-morning handwriting when she pried it from your shaking fingers-

To my high-school sweetheart-

As long as we have been together, all we’ve done is grown apart. I need to find myself without you.

-Jonathon

Days following the discovery of the note Laura helped you move all your belongings into her flat. Going through yours and Jonathon’s shared apartment, laying down flat pictures from your engagement, Laura was cautious what to ask you to bring with, afraid of making you cry again. From the mere mention of his name or any nicknames you gave him broke you even more.

“I need this. I’ll be alright, I just can’t have any reminders of…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, a light ocean breeze moved through your open window, tickling your loose hairs against your neck. You tensed at the feeling, how your ex would tease your neck in the same place before you gave yourself to him. Choking back tears through a closed throat, you dropped the phone on the receiver and slammed the window shut, barely avoiding your fingertips.

The now stuffy room allowed your head to clear. Sliding into your new swimsuit, a high waist and stringy top you had tied tight to press together whatever cleavage you wanted to pretend you had. The plum- jewel tone accentuated your pale winter skin.

Crossed legged in front of the hotel’s floor length mirror you carefully makeover your face. Sure to hide the dark bags under your eyes from the tears shed the past six days, bring color to your cheeks, and restore the glow you once had that was stripped away.

Ruffling your hair as you stood up, you crack your ankles and shift your weight, accepting the view in front of you, as drained as you felt, you looked renewed on the outside. The corner of your mouth turned up lightly as you thought about how much Jonathon would have hated the way you looked at this moment, heavily made up, revealing a little too much skin to the world, and wearing a color he stated to be “not flattering to your skin tone, babe.”

Nodding to your yourself in the mirror for the message you wanted to send, you grabbed your sunglasses and bag stuffed with a bottle of tequila and headed out to forget all your troubles in Bali.

Tuesday I saw her down on the beach

I stood and watched a while

And she looked and smiled at me

John Deacon was tired. The demand of being a rock star came to be too much, early in the studio one day he scribbled a note, a note he didn’t think would change his life.

“I’ve gone to Bali.”

Twisting it between the strings of his bass, John rushed out the recording studio with his packed bag, careful to not be seen by the rest of the band. Grabbing a cab, he fled to the airport.

Avoiding the crowds, you perched at the end of the bar, face out towards the crowds and open ocean, the waves foaming up the beach every few seconds. You sipped your too strong drink from a tiny straw, head leaning into your hand trying to rub away the headache you were already gaining. You were miserable and alone, at least being around a people helped drag your thoughts away. Going back to your hotel was the last thing you wanted to do, you didn’t want to remember the past or be alone with your thoughts with no music to drown them out.

You really tried to mingle. But all the partiers are…kids to you. Four, five years too young for you at least. Losing count after two spilled drinks, four ass grabs, and five slurred pickup lines whispered in your ear, you had enough. You threw forty bucks down on the bar, and sat, tapping your empty glasses one after another.

Deaky wasn’t looking for a woman, he was looking for an escape from the drab routine of his everyday life. Minimal movements of his head occurred between gulps of his drink, far to the outer edge of the partygoers. Laid back in his chair his eyes flickered up, noticing the one person in the entirety of Bali who wasn’t looking for fun or for a hookup.

The girl on the edge of the bar, eyes hazed. Made up better than any other person on the beach, none of that could hide the look on your face and how you’re carrying a load of stories and pain. John watched you slide your fist off your cheek, head dangling off, showing clear as day how many drinks you’ve knocked back, to hinder whatever pain that was. He knew because he had experienced the same. A red blotch where your fist had pressed to your skin drew his gaze.

Your weight shifted in your seat, cracking your back from your poor posture. The cracks led to your neck, moving it to the right to get the last ache out, you see the man across the beach. His sweet eyes peeking at you, intrigued and awed by the drastic difference between you and the partiers.

You glanced away quickly, body following, not to stare at the slender man lounging, especially because he was wearing so little. A deep blue speedo. It made your stomach flutter with interest of what was underneath. For the first time in a week, you had your mind off Jonathon, you just didn’t realize it until later that night.

Downing the rest of your drink you peaked over your right shoulder back at the man, who’s now looking at the crowd, his fingers combing through his short brown locks, the silver rings tugging on loose strands. Your chin tilted back, your body wondering what it’d feel like to have those rings tugging at your locks, but not the same way, rougher.

The man glimpsed back to you, hand lowering to the edge of the deck chair. John scooted his butt backwards to sit up, his blue speedo catching on the wood and revealing a large sliver of his pale cheek. He yanked his hand up to pull the fabric back down, blushing lightly as he glanced back up just in time to see your sweet smile, followed by a playful lip bite. You couldn’t help but blush back at the man who was obviously just as out of place as you were, and not as comfortable in the current youthful party situation.

Reaching into your bag you pull out a tip for the bartender, ready to get up and speak to the mysterious man you’d been subtly flirting with. Smacking it down you launched up from your seat. The change from sitting made the number of drinks you had finally hit you. Spinning around, the crowd seemed to have grown, bodies clumping together, the flickering of the tiki torches, you lost where the man was. Reaching out to the bar, your stomach felt queasy, mouth growing warm, you knew you had to go back to the hotel before you, the older partier, made a fool of yourself. Staggering away from the beach, you didn’t know that the man was pushing through the sweaty bodies towards you, before he noticed you sprint clumsily away.

---

Wednesday I didn't see her

I hoped that she'd be back tomorrow

You could barely open your eyes, the tears you had cried since the early morning had made your face puffy and raw. The end of your hair between your head and the pillow stuck to your face, the fabric of the sheets drenched. You couldn’t tell if it was from your tears or from the night sweats from the dream.

You managed to peak through your swollen lids to see the time, barely 5 AM. Staring at the crack in the ceiling above your head you replayed your nightmare. Every detail, fresh.

The remembrance of youth when looking at Jonathon. The thrill of Friday night football games beneath the lights Looking over at his short blonde hair become tussled from the open window of his first car, driving country roads to nowhere, filing up empty time. Him taking you for the first of only a few times in your childhood home, walls still pink from when you were eight.

You were in your apartment together, the streaks of morning light streamed over your bed. Where his usual good morning face was pleasant, overjoyed to wake up next to his fiancé, that morning it hadn’t been. His face, stoic, staring up and away, not even noticing you blink awake. But the heaviness of your lids lured you back to sleep, just as he rotated to get up.

When you woke again, you were greeted by an eerie stillness. That was when you found the note, right next to your head.

Every step you took from the bed you shrunk shorter, barely reaching the doorknob Jonathon stood on the other side, tower over you, growing taller by the second. As he lifted his foot above your head, he repeated what the note said, “All we’ve done is grow apart.”

Then his foot came down.

Each night the dream repeated it was a little better than the last. You were slowly moving on. Last night, you didn’t think you were going to have it, it was only when he dozed off after waking up initially had you dreamt it. Your first dreams were filled with someone else…the man from the beach.

But between the pounding against your skull and the rolling thunder in the distance, you absolutely couldn’t find it in yourself to leave your bed.

John sat at the corner of the outdoor bar, the same seat your fine ass sat in the night before. He played with the condensation ring left behind from you glass. Fingering the drips into different directions, every so often a fat drop of rain leaking through the cabana roof adding to his art.

John counted those drops. One drop,

bloop, splash

Every 30 seconds.

bloop, splash

He counted three hundred seventy-four.

Bloop, splash

By the three hundred seventy-fifth, John had enough.

He wiped the water off the bar top with the sleeve of his jean jacket, standing up from the stool to stretch his legs. With the back facing the bar, he stared out at the beach, now empty compared to the night before. The heavy rain created deep pockets in the sand, a steam rising from the surface from the change in temperature.

No one had been on the beach for hours, since the first rolling of thunder in the distance. The storm got bad, quick, but John hoped you would be back.

All night only you were on his mind. Your smile left him speechless, but he didn’t even talk to you. It drove him completely mad.

Craning his neck around the beach one last time, he curled his lips in, accepting the defeat he may have lost his chance with the gorgeous girl at the bar he saw not twelve hours ago. The one he saw almost running from the bar, enveloped by the crowd, turning to dust.

John removed his sandals and scooped them up, making it easier for him to dash towards his hotel, to be alone with his thoughts of you, only hoping you would be back tomorrow.

---

And then on Thursday

My luck had changed

She stood there all alone

I went and asked her name

I never thought that this could happen to me

In only seven days

Waking up drenched from another nightmare, your vision a blur from the early sun peeking through the drapes.

You were tired. Tired of having your nights ruined by images of your ex. Tired of thinking you need approval from anyone. Tired of not having fun while single in Bali. And lastly, tired of not going up to the only man who caught your eye while on the beach.

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself, beelining towards your makeup. Covering the bags under your eyes you checked yourself out. Impressed by how you gave yourself the look of three extra hours of sleep.

You sat in your same spot at the bar. It was perfect for people watching on the beach, and you hoped the man would come find you again.

And he did.

Playing with your fingernails, chipping off the polish, you see a pair of long pale legs walk up out of the corner of your eye.

Glancing up, the orange sun illuminates his features, the man from the beach. His gorgeous jawline you can’t help but imagine trailing your lips along and green eyes you want to see begging for your body.

“May I buy you a drink, love?” A light smile spread across his face. You felt yourself slide your tongue across your bottom lip in response.

He shifted his face down to meet your eyes, not before taking a peek at your red lips too.

That accent was perfect. It was so uniquely him in a way you couldn’t describe, as if he had made it up himself. The sound of his voice hitting you made your knees weak.

Clearing your throat, you felt lightly embarrassed by your less cute accent. “I’d love to.” The man intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you to the end of the bar. You couldn’t help but to take a peek at his ass in a pair of colored jeans and it moved in front of you.

He pulled out the barstool for you, guiding you up to it before ordering two martinis.

Taking the full glass from the bartender, you lean into the man from the beach, your knees touching his. “Cheers.”

He raised his glass to yours, clinking them together with his cheeky grin that initially pulled you in from across the beach. “Cheers to you, um…” He shook his head, “I’m sorry I never asked your name.”

Swallowing the first sip quickly you respond, “(Y/N)”, followed by another swig of your drink.

“(Y/N),” he whispered back, as if your name was too good to be uttered by his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is John.”

John.

You almost choke on your drink. Slamming it on the counter you rise from your seat, snatching your bag from the countertop.

Between coughs from your drink going down the wrong pipe you manage to speak out, “Hell no, I can’t do this.”

You scurried away, only looking back once at John, his head in his hands on the bar, a look of confusion and hurt spread out through his body language.

Of all people, in all the world. The one man who you felt something for after the breakup, was named John.

---

It would take a hundred or more

For memories to fade

I wish Friday would last for ever

I held her close to me

It took approximately ten minutes of being angry to start feeling horrible for what you did to John, as you found the man’s name to be.

It wasn’t fair, to him at least. He did nothing wrong, just have an unfortunate similarity to someone who broke your heart into a thousand pieces.

Ditching him on that beach when he looked so fondly at you, and how you had looked at him the same way.

Sitting in the corner chair of your hotel room you pressed your hands into your face you pray to yourself John didn’t leave the resort yet, and that you’d be able to find him.

Popping up from your chair, you grabbed the nearest pair of sandals and decided to spend the rest of the day searching for the John that deserved the best you.

After hours of walking around, the sun was kissing the water, blue and orange streaks trailed across the sky. Tiki torches already lit in preparation of the impending party. The beach was already scattered with people, drinks in hand.

Scanning the groups, you finally see him. His short brown hair fluffed and bobbing as he laughed at some tall model type girl’s joke. A small amount of jealousy grows in your stomach, combined with worry you’ve royally fucked up.

Pushing those feelings deep down, you swallow your pride, marching over to the cute brunette.

“John?” You asked, putting your hand on his shoulder, causing the three lean, tanned girls chatting to him to snarl at you.

John, recognizing your sweet voice turned his head towards you hand, a light smile forming across his lips. Just the fact you came back to see him the next day after last night was promising to him.

John moved his fingers up to yours, gingerly grabbing the tips and pressing them to his lips. The green of his eyes flickering, showing you his undivided attention. “Hello, (Y/N).”

A dark blush filled your cheeks at the sound of your name rolling of his accented tongue. Out of the corners of your vision you saw the girl group rolling their eyes, sauntering away to go bother another man for free drinks.

“I wanted to apologize, for last night,” you bit your lip shyly, removing your hands from John’s, embarrassed by how childish you acted. “You of all people didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“It’s alright, love.” John whispered above the crowd, his hot breath hitting your ear, sending a chill down your spine. “You want to tell me what I did wrong though? So I can avoid upsetting you in the future.” He gave a sweet wink at his comment, making your face turn bright red.

You pressed your hand against his chest, thumb rubbing delicate circles. “How about I make it up to your now, and tell you later?” Your voice is low, and you glanced up into John’s green eyes, a gentle smile on your face.

His fingers trailed up to your jaw line, tilting your face up towards his. “Sounds perfect, love.”

John leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, but eager. You wanted to explore them more and in a more private setting.

Your lips hovered over his, your breathing matches his as you manage to choke out, “John, come with me.”

The journey back to your hotel room is blurry, filled with eager touches, hungry kisses, and playful bites. Shaking as you turn your door key, your mind is filled with his name, John. This John.

Glad you were both wearing swimwear, a few string pulls and tugs later, your both naked, John hovering over you on the bed.

John swiped his first fingers over the tip of his tongue, red lips, stained from your gloss, parting slowly. You swallowed with a dry throat at the sight, mind racing at what those fingers were going to do next. Your eyes never broke from his, low and eager for all of you.

His wet fingers trail down from your bellybutton, every inch moved making your skin tremble beneath his touch. His fingertips reach your folds, already soaked beyond belief from the thought of him, the man from the beach you saw just two days ago, who you couldn’t get your mind off of.

Parting your lips, he swiped across your clit, you drew in a sharp breath at the tease, biting your lip shyly at how much of a mess you were for John already.

“You’re gorgeous,” John murmured as he moved his face lower down your body, trailing light kisses across your breasts and stomach. Stopping between your legs he glances up, seeing your head back, chest heaving. He flicks his tongue across your clit, circling the mound. Smiling as your hips buck up, begging for more.

Done with the teasing you pull him up from between your legs, rotating him off you, moving to straddle his body. Your hands roam over his hairy chest, sweat starting to bead. His shallow breaths in response to your dominance make you want him to plead for more.

Your legs straddled his waist, spreading apart further as you lowered closer to his throbbing member. His teeth dug into his lip, his insatiable eyes begging you to fuck him.

The tip of his cock is against your entrance but watching John’s face you love seeing him beg for your body. Your hands rest on his hips, holding him down and feeling him squirm in anticipation for you around him. “I need you right now, love…please.” The low growl of his voice shakes you, a heat growing deep in the pit of your stomach as you were drawn even closer to the man under you.

Lowering yourself more you gave him what he craved, your lips spreading around his tip. You take him in all at once, walls gripping his length. In unison a moan escaped from deep in your throat, a light smile creeping onto your face.

John’s hand wrapped around your wrist gently, your fingertips clutching onto his hips for dear life as you increased your speed, sliding up and down his length.

John pulled your wrists away from his hips to his hair. Sitting up he wrapped his arms around your back, tugging at the base of your hair to have access to your neck. He nips the skin at the base of your ear, followed by a sweet kiss. You moaned through your teeth, gently pulling his brown locks in response to his teasing.

“Mmm, John.” The whimpers from your mouth turned John on even more as he guides your hips up and down his cock, getting him close to the edge. His mouth sucks at your neck, creating a line of dark bruises.

You ride faster, the deep throbbing growing larger as your sweaty bodies crash together. Loud moans and grunts fill the air as you both release yourselves.

Finally riding off both your highs, you slide up from John, his hands guiding your hips towards the bed next to him, never loosing his grip from you.

Drifting off to sleep you moved your fingers slowly towards the center of the bed, where John’s hand laid. His hand sensing yours, he gently intertwined his fingers perfectly with yours, letting you know he was there for you.

You kept your eyes on the crack in the ceiling until your vision started to blur, eyelids drooping shut. That was your first of many nightmare-free sleeps. Your mind only filled with images of John Deacon.

---

I couldn't bear to leave her there

Saturday just twenty four hours

“So, when you told me your name, it ignited that…that anger and frustration towards him.” Your voice was low, calm. It surprised you how little sadness was in your words. There was almost none.

John played with your hair as he listened to you explain yourself. It was dark outside when you started your story, but early light creeped through the drapes.

Every so often you’d feel under your cheek John’s chest vibrate as he “mhm’d” and “yeah’d” to your story of the last eight years of your life. How much has changed since then, and how much had changed in the past seven days.

“I would never do that to you, love.” John’s only full comment after your story was finished, all the way up until when you met him on the beach.

“I know, John.” Was all you could say as he pressed his lips to your forehead. You couldn’t promise him the same.

Sniffling from the chilled air in the room you know you had succeeded. Your goal for this vacation was to get away, find yourself again, and move on from your heartbreak. John helped you do that, but that’s all he could help you with.

You enjoyed the lounging with him the entire day, playful tickles and butt smacked as you went up to get a drink. The casual conversation about your families and job, what music you listen to, what your guilty pleasures are at three in the morning.

But hinting in the back of your mind was the constant nagging of leaving Bali in less than 24 hours.

But you wished it would come faster. Going back to your normal life, a routine, and walking away from the man on the beach. You couldn’t admit to yourself you had used him, but you did to move on. And you feared if you spent more time with him, you’d realize how perfect he was for you. Sweet, kind, feisty, so similar to yourself. And that thought, the thought of being close to someone again…it scared you to death.

---

Oh no I'm going back home on Sunday

Ooh so sad alone

Waking up, John was eager to go with you to the airport as you had planned the moments before falling asleep in his arms the night before. The final kiss he would remember and cherish until the next time he saw you, and every time after that. But when he rolled over in bed, he was greeted with emptiness.

He sat up, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes to see all your suitcases to be gone.

You hadn’t said goodbye.

Then his eyes fell onto it. The note placed onto the pillow, sealed with a lipstick kiss.

John had tears in his eyes as he read, reread, and memorized your letter:

John,

I never thought that this could happen to me. In only seven days, you changed me and my outlook. You gave ‘John’ a new meaning. I’ll be so sad alone.

Tags: @hodgepodge-of-rog @sunnnymercury @rogertaylor-stole-my-heart @bowiequeen @queensilveryrog @queen-irl-af @rogerisinlovewithhiscar @browneyedfloozy @brinteylovesaliens

#borhap #bohemian rhapsody #joe mazzello #joe as john #john deacon #john deacon x reader #joe!john #joe!john x reader #queen #queen fic #in only seven days

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cobaltash · 4 years

Photo

Outfit Prompts! - 6. Warm weather pajamas

Here’s @queen-scribbles‘ gorgeous AJ in a light, fancy little PJ dress. Thank you so much for the prompt!

#drawing meme #outfit prompts #queen-scribbles #this was so much fun #AJ is so pretty #i loved drawing her face #and the frills #I hope you like it #stuff I drew

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Friendship, But A Friendship Nonetheless

A Jason Todd and Harley Quinn One-Shot (Non-Reader Insert)

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: So I wrote this for @aurailia or @nitebirdie because she drew that wonderful Jason picture for me which you can find right here! I hope you like this, Jess! Love you! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Jason expected a lot of things.

1. Getting yelled at by Bruce for shooting serial murderers and rapists? Check.

2. Getting yelled at by Damian for calling him short? Check.

3. Getting yelled at by Tim for spray painting a billboard of him with penises? Check.

4. Getting yelled at by Dick for picking on his younger brothers? Check.

So really, it was getting yelled at by his family that he expected the most, but all things considered about his life, his expectations weren’t pretty high. He knew he was going to get hurt on patrol, knew was going to spend the rest of his life dealing with the chronic pain and learning how to manage it.

But the one thing Jason never expected, was to end up being friends with Harley Quinn.

And honest to God, the whole friendship only started because the psychiatrist they both went to accidentally scheduled them at the same time. A screw up. A monumental screw up. But it did lead to a revolutionary session where Jason and Harley spent most of their time badgering each other about their habits while the woman merely watched on and scribbled furiously at her notepad.

When they both left, they were in such a heated argument about which way would be better to deal with the Joker. Jason suggested a bullet in the head and Harley suggested cutting off his arms and legs. An excellent suggestion, he had to admit, but nothing would satisfy him more than killing the pasty bastard, and she knew that too.

Surprisingly, when Harley got to her bus stop, she grabbed the front collar of his shirt to keep him in place while she typed her number in his phone. Of course, Jason wasn’t sure what to be more concerned about: the fact that she’d lifted his phone without him knowing, or that she was putting her number in it and telling him to call her when he needed someone to talk to.

He’d responded that he didn’t need another shrink in his head.

She’d given him a pitied look and said it wasn’t for that, but for a friend.

And Jason wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but three weeks after, he was dialing her number at two A.M. just to hear someone’s voice over the deafening silence in his apartment.

They talked for hours about anything and everything. Cars, weapons, games, favorite childhood memories, everything they could think of. And by the time they’d finally talked until their tongues were numb, the sun had started peeking above the buildings in the distance.

He apologized for keeping her all night.

Harley laughed and asked to hang out on patrol come Friday night then hung up.

Jason hadn’t even told her who he was, but low and behold she was doing cartwheels on the roof of the building he was looking out on that night. And it should’ve annoyed him but hell, he’d grown up with Dick—gymnastics was something he was used to being around.

Halfway through their stakeout, she was perched on the side of the ledge, staring at the side of his head, and it shouldn’t’ve unnerved him like it did, but there was something about her bright blue eyes drilling into his brain that made his skin crawl—and not in the good way.

Will you stop boring holes in me, Quinn? He’d grunted. Pay attention.

Why? She’d retorted. Aren’t you tired of doing this? Don’t you wanna go do something fun?

Stopping drug dealers is good for Gotham.

I’m not talking about good for Gotham, Jason. I’m talking about for you.

Harley hauled him up and tugged him along, him barely resisting because good God she was relentless and headstrong when she put her mind to something. So, he let her. And she dragged him to the Bat-Burger down the block and shoved a roll of money towards the cashier, ordering one of everything on the menu.

And Jason found it really odd when he was balancing two trays in his hands while Harley carried the milkshakes over to the booth in the corner where they huddled in and started eating.

She held up a packet in between her fingers. Want some Jokerized seasoning?

He blinked at her and gently took it, sprinkling the red, white, and green flakes over his fries. And he wasn’t offended when she reached over and took one, popping it in her mouth.

It’s terrible to say it, but God I love this shit. She laughed and Jason’s jaw dropped.

I know! He agreed with a grin. I can’t help it! It’s so good!

Her eyes had narrowed at that. You should smile more, Jason. You look normal when you do.

Normal? He repeated.

You look happy. And that’s what you should strive for. She finalized and took the Robin Nuggets from his tray, grinning when he let out a noise of complaint.

When they could finally move after consuming so much food, she tugged him along to the department store that had closed hours before and while Jason wasn’t one to ever care about breaking and entering, he did have a problem with property that wasn’t a center for criminal activity.

Don’t be a baby. She griped and slipped in though one of the vents and Jason merely stared at the opening before he heard her yell to him. Get a move on! We have stuff to do!

Begrudgingly, he squeezed himself into the way too small vent and shimmied after her.

And Harley Quinn must’ve been planning this for a while because when his feet finally hit the floor, he watched as she started disabling security cameras and alarms in the entire building before spinning around and grinning at him.

Mall’s ours. Let’s get it. And she was off.

Bruce was not going to be happy about this but watching her swing that electrified bat at the glass windows, watching them shatter into millions of shards stirred up something devious in him and Harley was cackling when he broke a window with an armored elbow and yanked out the mannequin, tugging the black leather jacket off before shrugging it on.

He posed with his shoulders squared and strong and she clapped her hands. Looks good! Wanna go hit one of the jewelry stores and find some silver earrings to go with it?

Jason nodded and somehow Harley ended up piggybacking on him, giggling profusely when he started belting out Queen at the top of his lungs; she even joined when they got to the operatics.

And somehow, he let her convince him to go and help her raid the major makeup store in the mall. Harley managed to fill three backpacks full of lipsticks, foundations, eye-shadows, and a whole lotta other shit that Jason had no idea what they were for.

How much money do you think all that is? He inquired and she shrugged.

Probably a grand? Maybe two if I’m being honest. This place is a money-sucking-makeup-hog and I’ll be damned if I’m paying a hundred bucks for one set of lipstick and eyeliner.

She turned to him. Anywhere you wanna go? There’s a map out there if you wanna go look.

Jason nodded and walked out of the store while she was busy filling whatever belt pocket wasn’t empty.

After a few minutes, he heard, Found anywhere?

He pointed silently at one of the stores on the brightened map and she squinted, looking it over.

You wanna go there?

Wouldn’t’ve suggested it if I didn’t.

She shrugged and piggybacked him again. Lead the way, Jason.

He hated that the elevators had been out, and while he hadn’t broken a sweat carrying Harley up three flights of immovable stairs, his knees and his back were killing him when they finally got to the store.

He started wandering inside but stopped when she tossed him a duffel bag.

Fill it up with everything you want.

Jason tried to smile but could only manage a grimace as he stepped in and started going up and down the aisles. He wasn’t too picky with his choosing. Books that looked like they’d help manage his pain he shoved in the duffel bag. An electric pulsing gel pad went in too followed by a vibrating roller he could stretch his muscles on.

He was flipping through a book geared towards mindful chronic pain management when he felt her slide next to him.

Finding everything alright?

Mostly…this one is all about conditioning the mind to work with the pain.

Sounds useful. Meditation and mindfulness have been known to work. It’s really all about placebo-ing your mind into it. She looked at him. Jason, do you ever think about going to a physical therapist?

He scoffed. I already go see a shrink. Why would I go see another doctor?

Because your mind is one thing, and your body is another. Her hand was cool when she placed it on his arm. Jason, if you’re in pain, there are people who can help you.

He really wanted to be snarky but all he could do was glare at her. And what about you? Do you go see a doctor for all the things he did to you too?

Harley gazed at him for a long time before answering him firmly. I will if you do. Or… she started, then trailed off and picked up a few books on physical therapy. You can come to the apartment that Ivy and I live in and we can do it together.

And Jason blinked in shock because he’d never met a person who would agree to do something for themselves if he did something for himself, an agreement for dual help.

You’d really do that for me? For you too?

Harley smiled, big and pearly white, red lipstick a bit smeared in the corner from their meal earlier.

We’re both screwed up cause of what he did, Jason. But here��s where we’re different from everyone else.She linked her arm with his, leaned close and murmured. We’re not going to stew in it while healing is in our futures.

You know we’ll never be one hundred percent fixed, right?

It’s not about fixing, Jason. It’s about healing. Healing doesn’t mean you’re fixed. Memories, pain, it’ll always be there and no amount of management for pain or therapy is going to fix that.

She stared up at him. But it will remind you that you’re still you. Even if there’s a few broken pieces here and there. And no one can take that from you. Not even him.

Jason’s lungs were too tight to form words and his eyes stung horribly but he managed to swallow the lump enough to choke out his reply. You’re alright, Harley.

Smiling, she pressed her cheek into his bicep. Call me Harleen, Jason.

Not Harley?

No, not Harley. I only let the ones I care about call me Harleen.

Does this mean we’re friends then?

Oh, this absolutely means we’re friends now. Best friends, in fact. She tugged at his arm. And I think there’s a Wayne Enterprises outlet somewhere in here and I think we should leave Brucie boy a message.

Jason laughed and wiped his eyes, hurrying after her. Can we spray paint dicks everywhere?

Only if I can spray paint boobs.

You’ve got yourself a deal, Harleen.

Jason expected a lot in his life. To be yelled at by his family for being a pain-in-the-ass son and brother, to be injured on the job, to see a therapist every Tuesday and Thursday, to call his family every night to tell them he loved them.

But the one thing he never expected, was to find one of the greatest friends he’d ever had in a woman he had once been on opposite sides with.

He also didn’t expect Batman to come through the window of the outlet in the middle of their spray painting but that’s another story for another time.

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siriuslyblack12 · 4 years

Text

chapter 2

Sirius stood on the blocks, heart beating fast, legs threatening to give out at any moment. His arms gripped the block tighter, steadying his nerves as he let out a long breath. Thoughts spiralled chaotically in his head, impossible to ignore as they built in strength and severity.

Is my cap on tight enough?

Don’t go too soon.

Don’t go too late.

I have to win. Dad’ll go mad if I don’t win.

I have to make him proud.

I don’t give a shit whether I make him proud or not.

“Mr Black,”

Don’t breathe on breakout.

Don’t breathe at all.

You need to get a good time.

“Mr Black,”

Winning is everything.

But be a good loser.

“Mr Black,” the distant voice was getting louder and louder.

You know what happens when you lose.

“Mr Black, I asked you a question! You could at least pretend to be paying attention.” Professor McGonagall scolded, bringing his attention back to the classroom. He wasn’t at the pool, rather in an English classroom, his almost empty page of notes lying in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Professor. Won’t happen again.” He said shyly, not daring to meet her eyes.

School had only started a couple of days ago and Sirius already felt as if he was suffocating. Their professors really weren’t holding back this year, piling up homework and lectures and revision to the point where the student’s backs ached with the pressure. Atop of all of that, social lives and media presences took a lot to keep afloat, as well as sport and fitness. Sport seemed to take up 90 percent of Sirius’s current brain capacity, which was now seeming to be a problem.

English was by far his favourite subject, being the only one that he shared with all 3 of his closest friends. He looked over at James only to see him staring adoringly at the back of Lily’s red head, chin on his hands. With a roll of his eyes, he turned the other way to meet the sight of Peter sneaking snacks out of his bag, handing a few crisps to Remus under the desk. At least he was eating.

The lesson came to an end with the sharp sound of the bell, and Sirius collected his things as quickly and quietly as possible, heading for the door to finally sort through the anxieties swirling in his head; until he heard an old voice call out, “Mr Black, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Shit, this was exactly what he didn’t need.

Defeated and ashamed, Sirius was surprised as his eyes met a kind looking smile and a careful gesture to take a seat. His mind reeled in confusion, but he did what was asked of him anyway. McGonagall cleared her throat and began to speak.

“Is everything alright?” Three words, simple yet powerful, and definitely out of the ordinary. He had no idea how to answer that, not exactly knowing where his boundaries were and how much he could say. He may have been one to overshare on social media, but he was certainly not one to spill his emotions wholeheartedly.

“Never better, Minnie.”

“It sure doesn’t seem like it, Mr Black. I remind you that this is a safe space.”

Sirius looked down at his hands, wrapped in tight fists with his knuckles turning white with the effort. The walls suddenly felt as if hey were closing in on him, his heart rate picking up and foot tapping a rhythm on the floor.

“I’m just finding it hard to concentrate, that’s all.” He said defensively. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

McGonagall nodded glumly. This situation was uncomfortable to say the least. Sirius glanced back at the door of the room, where he could have sworn he saw Remus looking in through the window before hurrying away awkwardly. That boy was a mystery, which only drew Sirius further to him.

“You know Sirius,” his professor never called him by his first name. “Help is always given to those who ask for it.”

“Please Moony,”

“No.”

“I’m begging you!”

“No, Sirius.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun, I promise. I really need it.”

Sirius really was like an excited puppy, Remus thought to himself. He’d just been relaxing in the library, catching up on some reading and enjoying the quiet lull in the day before he was quite rudely interrupted by the one and only trade of Hogwarts High. He supposed he didn’t mind it, given that he was always happy for Sirius’s company – no matter the circumstances. However, on this occasion he was less willing to participate in what the other had planned, that being tutoring him.

Remus let his mind wonder for a few moments, imagining what it would be like to be alone with Sirius, bonding over books and equation. Now that he thought about, it sounded stupid, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Why are you asking me, Pads? Why not one of the girls?” He suggested thoughtfully. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would be better than me.”

“I’m calling bullshit, because you my friend are the smartest person I know.”

Remus slumped back into his chair, his heart skipping a beat. He desperately wanted to say yes, to help him out and be a good friend. He knew that Sirius hated studying, so asking for the blue-eyed boy to help him with that must have been a challenge for him. He also knew that he needed to exercise at least some self-control. Maybe tutoring Sirius would be an excellent idea, a chance to do a good deed and spend some quality time boding with his crush at the same time, without it being too suspicious.

Do you know how pathetic you sound?

He watched as the boy in question looked down towards the floor, one hand running through his hair which Remus had quickly learned was a nervous habit of his. This wasn’t going to end well, nothing ever ended well for him. Rising to stand on two weak legs, he swept his things that had been spread over the table into his bag and slung it over his shoulder with as much swagger as he could muster. He looked back to see that Sirius’s eyes were trained on him, silently reading the room and atmosphere.

“Tomorrow lunch, 12:30, in the library. Don’t you dare be late.”

Remus walked briskly away, not waiting see Sirius’s reaction and biting back a wide smile.

Turns out that tutoring Sirius Black was not the gentle, romantic, flirt-fest he thought it would be, and was in fact turning out to be a lost cause. The boy had a lot of trouble recalling metaphors, understanding Shakespeare and the like, frustrating Remus with basically everything he said. Often times he would zone out, picking at a loose thread on his t-shirt or twirling a piece of hair through his fingers, and even more likely were his frankly stupid remarks that were only made out of his compulsive need to be the funniest in the room. The most stupid thing about them is that they were actually funny, and Remus couldn’t always contain his laughter.

“Pads, stop, stop, no,” He warned. “You cannot compare Romeo and Juliet to fucking Spider-Man and MJ.”

“What? Why not? It fits, that’s all that matters, right? Sirius reasoned, pen between his teeth.

“You have to get rid of that. The whole paragraph would probably be best, so it still makes sense.”

“But that’s my best one! If you didn’t like that then you’re definitely not gonna like the next few.”

Remus buried his face in hands, as Sirius took the essay and out of his hands and ripped it right in half. Drama queen was the only thing he thought to think but a closer look at the other’s face told a different story. “You didn’t have to do that.” Remus said softly.

Sirius didn’t reply, instead opening his notebook and flipping through to find a blank page and start again. The remnants of drawings and doodles did not go unnoticed, some of which were surprisingly good. He wasn’t taking art this year, but by the looks of the pages in front of him, he should be. Sirius got back to work quickly, scribbling none sense that wouldn’t do him any favours in front of his teachers.

“C’mon, you can do better than that. Let me help you.” Remus pried the pen from his hand and pushed the textbook towards him. “And no more drama.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sirius added with an enthusiastic wink that made him swoon and squirm in his seat.

The table was subdued for the next few minutes, Remus’s intelligence never failing to impress Sirius, but this was more due to the fact that he shared practically none of the same wit. He wasn’t actually as clueless as he had previously made himself out to be, but that didn’t keep him from acting like it. Perhaps some people’s smarts were more suited to other areas: those areas not exactly helping Sirius’s grades. Remus helping him out was just an extra bonus, or so he told himself.

Long hair fell into his eyes as Sirius leaned over Remus’s shoulder, too close for comfort, inspecting what he was pointing to and explaining. Something about themes that even Remus was quickly forgetting as the boy by his shoulder got closer.

His trance was broken as the bell rang, penetrating through his ears, earning a laugh out of Sirius as he jumped slightly.

“Well, moony, I best get going,” he said briskly. “Maybe we could do this again sometime, eh?”

“Yeah, sure, yeah” Remus stumbled exasperatedly, a blush forming on his cheeks that was often present these days. “Whenever you need me.”

It was an authentic moment, sweet and short, but meaningful nonetheless. Until…

“Padfoot! Moony! Get over here, Peter’s trying to arm wrestle Marlene.” James. Always one to ruin it.

“Poor thing, why the hell would he?” Sirius laughed, rushing to follow him. “Moons, you coming?”

Remus smiled. “You go ahead, I’ve got my own work to catch up on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sick of you anyway.” He added sarcastically, earning another deep laugh.

They continued to have these study sessions, Sirius becoming alarmingly enthusiastic about what would once have kept him far away and out of reach. It was a strange change in the groups’ dynamic, as where Remus and Lily would disappear of to the library, or a classroom to interrogate professors about the work, Sirius now trailed along with them. The red-headed girl had at first raised her eyebrows, or squinted her eyes suspiciously, but had now acclimated nicely. But that didn’t stop her from forming her own theories about what was going on with Remus and Sirius.

This also had the unexpected effect of getting James Potter of all people in the library for what must have been the first time in his life. Seeing Sirius so confident surrounded by nerdy things like books and papers had been the push he needed to follow him and shamelessly flirt with Lily. Remus noted the way she tucked her hair behind her ears and fiddled with her bracelets whenever James was around.

At this current moment, the four of them were hard at work on different projects, making mindless small talk as they grew increasingly bored. Sirius whispered something to James, obviously amusing as they burst into fits of laughter.

“Do you two ever shut up?” Lily said, fighting her own amusement.

“Lily, my dear,” she rolled her eyes. “That would take the fun out of it!”

More comments were exchanged, mainly between Lily and James, as Remus found himself unable to form any words of his own in the presence of Sirius.

Stop it. If you fall too deep you won’t be able to swim back up.

Maybe I don’t want to swim back up anymore.

“Hey, moons, what do you think about this?” Sirius questioned happily, thrusting a sketchbook towards him. To say it was absolutely beautiful would be an understatement, Remus thought as he studied what was in front of him. It was a detailed drawing, all in coloured pencil, of a field at sunset. The outline of a forest coated in orange and pink shades covered the page and his eyes were drawn to the silhouette of a rabbit, burying itself a hole in the grass.

“I’ve been trying my hand at art, my dad hates it.” He said, directed only at Remus. “I know you saw some drawings the other day and thought you’d like it.”

“I-, Sirius this is amazing.” He gushed, until Lily saw what he was looking at and joined on his shock.

“Where have you been hiding all this talent? Are you serious?!” She squealed.

“Nah, I’m Sirius. You know that.” The familiar joke didn’t exactly catch anyone off-guard.

Remus’s mind went to what he’d said about his father, and he began to wonder the exact meaning. He only knew what everyone knew about Sirius’s home life: it was shit and he didn’t like to talk about it. He’d speculated that his parents were quite controlling, but the details were unknown. James hadn’t even been informed.

He secretly hoped that perhaps one day he would know, and he would be able to help Sirius through whatever was going on, but he would wait until the other boy was ready. In the meantime he supposed he would do whatever he could, whilst making sure his secret didn’t show itself.

He’s your friend. That’s all.

But when a friend is hurting, you should put in a little more effort.

#as we grow older wolfstar sirius black remus lupin fluff modern au high school studying friendzoned

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b-rainlet · 5 years

Note

i really loved reading what you wrote about allison and luther so how about alluther again for the new ship q&a? :D

This is years late but I just wanted to give y’all some sweet hcs while I am battling this monster of a Luego WiP!

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa

Okay have you seen Luther? Luther tries to dance and accidentally wrecks havoc across his room (which is very relatable) while Allison is a Queen who is able to flawlessly fight in heels.

Luther will try to be a gentleman and open the door for Allison in this one fancy restaurant he invited her to on their first serious Date - because she is a movie star, she’s probably used to expensive food and champagne and guys who can talk about politics instead of scared boys who still write poetry - but he’s so fucking nervous, he pulls the door when he should push.

And normally that would be a little hiccup for an otherwise perfect night but not with Luther. Luther accidentally pulls the door and tears it straight out of the frame.

“Uhhh…, sorry?”

(They don’t eat at the restaurant. He isn’t allowed to set foot there anymore. He also has to pay for a new door).

(Luther is terribly sorry he ruined the night but Allison is to busy doubling over laughing to say anything).

(They eat at home, pizza and leftover pasta from dinner. Allison drinks beer instead of champagne and laughs some more when Luther spills juice on his shirt).

(Allison also thanks him for such a nice Date before kissing him, hands on his face, so maybe it wasn’t ruined after all).

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them

Both! Have you seen them as kids, making love eyes at each other over dinner? You can bet that both of them have a bunch of notebooks that are just full of ‘A+L’ or ‘A.H. + L.H. = Hearts’

Allison has an old doodle she made as a kid of them on their wedding day and she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away.

She shows it to Luther once, joking how hopelessly in love she was as a child, how childish!

And Luther looks at her for a long moment, all serious, before getting up and fishing something from under his bed.

A box.

A box full of poems.

More precisely, a box full of poems about Allison, some from back when they were 13 and some from only a month ago.

Luther refuses to read them out loud - face all pink and biting his lower lip - but Allison trades them for the picture she drew.

Once they live together, the picture somehow ends up on the fridge, along with some of Allison’s favourite poems.

They don’t talk about it but both smile every time they enter the kitchen.

Who starts the tickle fights

Luther!

Allison is a ticklish little thing and Luther has used that to his advantage since they were kids.

(All of them used that to their advantage, especially Klaus who liked to raid Allison’s room for nail polish and skirts).

And ever since she was kid, Allison had hated it.

Which is only normal, who enjoys having hands all over their body, tickling her sides?

So Luther doesn’t do it often.

But sometimes…..

Sometimes when Allison is in a bad mood, he knows he just needs to trail his finger over the underside of her foot and she’ll be a giggling mess.

“C’mon, cheer up a little? For me?” - “No.”

“Well, okay then.” *starts to wiggle his fingers under Allison’s shirt, scratching his nails over her stomach* Allison, immediately giggling: “Stop iiiiiit.”

“If you give me a smile.” Allison: *trying her best to smile while also trying to wiggle away from Luther’s gentle touches* “And a kiss.”

(Maybe, if Allison is honest with herself, she doesn’t hate being tickled as much when it’s Luther doing it, less because he likes how she squeals, but more because he’s earnestly trying to stop her from being moody).

(And maybe Luther touching her simply isn’t the same level of awful as anyone else touching her).

(Maybe she likes being tickled when it’s big hands doing the tickling, touching her as gently as possible despite their size).

Who starts the pillow fights

Allison!

They rarely have pillow fights because Luther is afraid he’ll get carried away

(And do you have any idea how awful that was as a child? He once hit Klaus with a pillow hard enough he got thrown against the opposite wall and had a concussion. Luther rarely participated in any ‘rowdy’ games after that).

But sometimes, Allison will throw a pillow at him when she wants him to pay attention to her or when she’s too lazy to move and tries to sweet talk him into getting something so she doesn’t have to stand up.

And Luther will throw the pillow back - gently - and they’ll just try to hit each other with pillows and blankets and shirts and whatever else that’s soft enough to be flung at each other.

They rarely do the typical ‘jumping around on the bed, hitting each other with pillows’ though, because Luther jumping on a bed? You want the bed to survive a few years, right?

He used to be more bummed about this kinda stuff as a kid anyway, no need to be sad about it as an adult. Allison still tries to get him to play wrestle with her a little, tries to pin him to the bed or just slumps down on top of him like they’re still 13. It’s cute.

(It also leads to kissing 90% of the time now, so Luther is good).

As teeny tiny children, Allison felt bad for Luther not being able to play with their brothers without accidentally breaking their bones, so they always played together. Baby Alluther playing house together, colouring pictures, telling each other fantasy stories and going on made up quests…...Luther would’ve followed Allison anywhere.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile

Depends on who falls asleep first, lmao. In a world where Skype exists, they probably facetime each other whenever Allison can’t be home, murmuring things back and forth already half asleep. And sometimes, one of them will actually fall asleep, softly snore as the other either keeps talking to them (Luther) or softly sings for them (Allison).

They never end the calls, btw, they just watch the other sleep, peaceful expression on their face before slowly falling asleep themselves, dreaming about being able to reach out and touch.

Who mistakes salt for sugar

This is something that could happen to both of them. Like, maybe they’re at a diner and Luther accidentally salts his pancakes so Allison feeds him bits of hers, or Allison is cooking at the mansion and after all those years she isn’t sure about which shaker contains what anymore and just grabs the one she thinks has the sugar in it.

Although Allison would probably be thoughtful enough to check which is which first, whereas Luther lives a dangerous life.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning

Luther. He tries to prevent it but he’s sluggish and slow when he’s tired so he never manages to.

Allison rarely wakes up from it though, which Luther is very grateful for because he feels a little bit embarrassed about his nightly food cravings.

(He eats...weird stuff at night. A lot of it covered with melted cheese, whether cheese should be on that dish or not. Allison stops commenting on it once she figures out how guilty Luther feels for it).

She does try to get him to talk about things instead of stuffing his feelings with food but it’s a long journey.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines

Allison!

Allison likes to make Luther blush by stepping next to him and saying things like “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?” even though they’re only standing in the living room.

Luther tries to retaliate by coming up with his own pick up lines but he spectacularly fails each time.

“Are you from Tennessee? Because I got lost in your eyes.”

Allison thinks it’s cute though, so that’s alright.

(Diego’s the one who tells him all the pick up lines and face palms when he gets them wrong. And then mentally yells when Allison still kisses Luther and proclaims herself ‘swooned’ because HOW?

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order

Luther.

Allison doesn’t mind but Luther gets really peculiar about where certain books should be.

He has different shelves for crime novels, for romance stuff and for books that have multiple installments (“Because they belong together, Allison!”).

He also gets upset when Allison sets down a book upside down because that’s not good for the back of the book and in Luther’s words “It hurts the books.”

Also, Luther is the kinda person who tries his hardest not to dog-ear paperbacks, not holding them open too wildly so there aren’t any crinkles on the back.

He got Allison rainbow coloured bookmarks for Christmas because Allison is the kinda person to just use whatever as a bookmark - even another book.

(Allison also writes into books, highlights her favourite paragraphs or just scribbles down her thoughts on something next to the dialogue. Luther kinda hates it but sometimes he’ll turn a page and just see Allison’s elegant handwriting, spelling out “I love you!” or “Hey Handsome ;)” and he can’t help but smile.

(Sometimes he goes to Allison and tries his best to burrow into her lap without crushing her when he finds a note like that. Allison kisses his forehead and makes space for him on the couch).

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies

Luther!

Luther is a little boy who just so happens to be 6’5 (Fun Fact! I did not make that up, Tom Hopper actually is that tall).

So he’ll help Allison and Grace bake and hope he gets the empty bowl with the leftover cookie batter.

He has to fight Diego over it though. And most of the time Five gets it anyway, simply because they can dial up the puppy eyes whenever they want to).

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion

Luther!

He is a big sappy romantic who buys flowers for his beloved whenever he walks past a flower shop or he sees some pretty ones outside and he absolutely won’t have dinner without lighting candles. Especially when he’s the one doing the cooking (which he does a lot simply because Allison is a very busy woman and Luther likes providing for her).

He also prepares bubbles baths for Allison with loads of candles and scented bath bombs and stuff and they don’t fit into the bathtub together, but Allison talks him into at least dipping his feet in too.

And more often than not, Luther will rub over Allison’s back and wash her hair while Allison idly plays with her hands or tries to get her hands on Luther’s arms or his face.

(Allison is grabby and Luther enjoys that but not when he’s trying to wash her hair).

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen

Allison!

Allison isn’t a big artist but she likes doodling, especially when she’s stressed. And Luther never complains when she draws a little heart on his arm or his cheek.

And it’s also a nice way of being intimate? Allison holding one of Luther’s hands with her own, his arm gently laying on her thighs as she leans over and draws on it, her hair tickling him when she moves.

Luther actually considers getting some of her drawings done as tattoos but Allison always shakes her head, claims they’re silly little things.

Luther loves them either way.

(Sometimes Allison writes her name on Luther’s wrists and Luther’s name on hers. Pretends they’re in one of her romance novels, the ones she read as a pre-teen, daydreaming about Luther being her soulmate. Still does apparently.

Luther kisses his arm when she does it, kisses her name on it and then his name on hers).

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation

Allison!

She’s the one who comes around loads, be it because she’s going on vacation with Claire or because she’s on a promo tour for her upcoming movie.

Luther….feels better just staying home. Safer.

Allison doesn’t push him but she does remind him that he’s always welcome to join her. Luther nods everytime, puts the magnet on the - slowly overflowing - fridge, but never takes her up on the offer.

They have time.

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines

Luther!

Luther does every single survey he can. What kinda boyfriend is he? Does he fall for bad boys too easily? Is he trapped in a loveless relationship? What Hogwarts House does he have? What kinda Girl is he?

He does them all. And he always shares his results with Allison very excitedly.

Allison humours him by doing the surveys with him but she isn’t as obsessed.

(She also doesn’t believe in astrology and horoscopes, not the way Luther does, but she still checks his horoscope daily and send him those ‘The signs as…’ posts).

She thinks they’re doing quite well, no matter what the survey results are.

#Alluther #I love them

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