#I know life as a kept party boy must be fun but we are starving

[pilvimarja]

#Miles Teller #pilvimarja edits #Miles pls can you go back to making movies so we can have new interviews to gif? #I know life as a kept party boy must be fun but we are starving

[wistfulrat]

a 4-part rec list of my fave drarry fics - the thrillers, dramas, soft bois, and wankbanks getting me through 2020′s shitstorm

[the soft boi list is here and truly i’m not surprised this rec is going to be the longest bc if there’s one thing a bitch is going to do, it’s yearn.

as always! if you love a fic, follow the authors, leave kudos & comments, send them nice msgs bc free art is still labor xoxo]

part 3: soft bois

mood: for when I need respite, a balm to the all-consuming shittiness of life

includes: fluff, comfort, low-stakes, slow-burn fics. a wistful look, a rainy morning, an unexpected grace, a stupidly disarming joke. i could live inside these fics. the smallness of human lives removed from the site of that which hurts & irreparably changes. the story-equivalent of a deep breath after a long day. pregnant silences & pensive mundanity & shy smiles. banter with bite but without the cruelty. the color lavender. weirdly whimsical. soft fics are not necessarily conflict-averse (no drarry fic rly can be, considering the context) but, they offer the reader a generous distance from the initial harm. they’re the quiet cleaning up after a storm. sometimes healing is an exacting surgical knife and other times it’s a slow scabbing. you read these fics to be reassured that the way forward is not always ruthless. and honestly?? they deserve a semblance of peace godDAMmit.

The Way Down by @letteredlettered - 65k - T “and I thought that if someone talked to you as though you were a human being you might—maybe you could act like one” --the way i think about this line daily. the characterization of draco in this fic is one my favorites bc he’s earnest and neurotic and tired of harry’s shit. which is to say, he cares so so much. and harry doesn’t know what to do with that bc he’s got a monster in his chest and lives as a recluse. but they both humanize each other in ways no one else can. “you’re just a person” has to be some kind of drarry ethics of belonging and it makes me CRY. -

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by @greaseonmymouth and dustmouth - 96k - T “Maybe it’s not about deserving it? Maybe you just get to have it anyway. . .I’m allowing myself to want something and to let myself have it and to fight for it.” --harry runs a daycare and also works at a library. draco spends a lot of time in said library. they bond over sci-fi books and therapy anecdotes and quiet philosophical conversations held over cafeteria soup. and harry’s struggling to understand his asexuality. draco’s learning how to live with anxiety and depression. they both want to be deserving of love. incredible fic with beautiful art by dustmouth. - 

Open for Repairs by @drarrytrash - 35k - T “A few leaves rustle in the gutter and the muggle world pays no mind to them, to two lost boys holding on for dear life.” --all of their fics feel exactly like this. like you’ve been allowed to look at something private, tender, unexpected. draco, known abba fan, is a repairman in the muggle world & harry can’t stop breaking thrifted things in order to see him? say less, i'm thERE. also “I think I have a crush on you” goddddd  - other faves by them: Counting Down By Ten - 2k - T: draco’s stepped outside of the party for a smoke. harry follows him bc of course he does. i could read this 100 times and not get tired of it. - Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - 36k - E: FUCKING HILARIOUS I CACKLED THROUGH THE WHOLE THING. draco’s wolfy problem and harry helping him and harry being flustered by how much he likes draco and draco’s hot heroic moment. shutup it’s perfect. “He almost asks if Draco ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit all the time, but he knows that he, personally, never ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit.” and “It’s the traumas,” Harry says gravely” --lines that live rent free in my head -

Harry Potter and the Future He Doesn't Really Want, Thanks by seefin - 70k - E “That was the only logical thing to do here, wasn’t it? It was the next step, it was the end of hurting each other and the beginning of the exact opposite.” --harry lives with luna and neville and also he dreams about the future sometimes? and he keeps running into draco. draco thinks this is sus as hell, until he doesn’t. feat. taxi rides, museums, cinemas, rooftop conversations beneath a lunar eclipse, mid-sex innocuous banter, draco and harry discussing nicki minaj. this fic charmed my ass off. seefin writes the most effortlessly hilarious dialogues. i smiled at my phone like an idiot at least 7 times. -  other faves by them: Wild - 93k - E: “he liked feeling needed, for the things that he was needed for back at the house in Ireland. For cooking and gardening and driving. Easy things.” --this shit makes me cry it’s so good. harry lives in Ireland with these three brilliant, hilarious, wandless witches and draco’s a potions student who's come to study under one of the housemates and the boys have so much shit to work through but their love becomes so tender and honest. draco yells at harry a lot and harry lets him and they both keep each other grounded in something real and fuCK.  - Divination for Dickheads - 7k - G: “I’m terrible at having crushes. I’ve never played anything cool a day in my life.” -- oh harry, we knOW. a bus ride, a fortune teller, an aquarium birthday party. god i love this fic. -

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic​ - 61k - E “But we’ve worked so hard at this, haven’t we? Yeah, I know it’s a horror to have to talk about it, but fuck it. We’re friends now, but it took so long to get here. Have you ever had to work so hard at something before?" --the steady blossoming of their friendship in this fic is so goddamn beautiful i want to yell. it’s draco and harry learning to trust each other and the whole thing unfolds so slowly, in this whimsical mix of london streets, wizarding politics, church halls feat. a Hot vicar, and a magical antique shop owner who’s married to literal poseidon?? goD the environment of this fic. immaculate. [also there’s a tender shower scene that makes me cry every single fucking time so if you read this fic pls dm me so we can be embarrassing about it together tbh] -

Nice Things by aideomai - 22k - M “He kept waiting for the weird shock of touch to not knock him clean out of his head, leave him quiet and warm and happy.” --8th year. harry forms an unlikely friendship with draco that begins with smoking weed on a windowsill. harry is touch-starved and draco touches him like he touches all his close friends - like it’s easy. the quiet affection in this fic, the way harry burrows himself into touch bc he’s been without it for his entire life. reading this is like being held. -

Running On Air by @tinyhistory​ - 74k - T “do you remember when we were eleven?” --alexa play coldplay’s the scientist it’s sad girl hours and we’re about to fucking yearn. you’ve seen this fic rec on every drarry list under the sun and i'm here to be redundant. the hype is so goddamn real. this story is a lyrical masterpiece held together by lines that act as refrains that will rattle around your brain until you die, probably. draco’s been missing for 3yrs. harry goes to find him. it’s their odyssey of homecoming. -

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken - 12k - T “But Draco, Draco was everything but boring. Draco made sitting in the rain watching an empty house fun.” --auror partners pining and draco being eccentric and harry being very earnestly gay about draco’s eccentricities!! god this fic is so genuinely fun skskd feat. undercover missions, murderous faeries, a book heist, a stunning navy dress, harry’s eyelashes. -

How We Throw Our Shadows Down by @thistle-verse - 14k - T “Draco is about to say something else— to thank Potter for what he’d done, however poorly— but Harry is smiling at him again, and it’s so soft and perfect that Draco holds in any inadequate words, lest he spoil it.” --draco collects tea cozies and of course harry has the one he wants. the sad and tender gays are at it again feat. conversations in the rain at a train station, melancholy Blaise, muggle photos, wizarding e-bay, the Dursleys.  -

Helix by Saras_Girl - 92k - E “Draco sighs in his sleep and Harry clings on to consciousness, needing to hold on, to give this tiny, insignificant moment the attention it deserves” --I think maybe you can describe every soft Saras_Girl story as giving tiny, insignificant moments the attention they deserve. like, this is an 8th year fic about snails and it’s full of whimsy, grief, compassion, and easy humor. an absolute must-read author in this genre if you want languorous, episodic fics full of distinct OCs and affectionate creatures. - other faves by them: Light up the Night Sky - 98k - M “Draco, sometimes you make my head feel like soup” --the one where harry is a fireworks artist and has a pet chameleon named ken. draco is on the wizarding arts council. they both pine like hell. - Headlights in the Snow - 71k - M “they stare at each other in silence, Harry’s heart beating so loud in his chest that he thinks the biddies must be able to hear it over the sound of their card game.” --the one where draco drives the knight bus and carts around the biddy club, a group of rambunctious old ladies who knit and drink tea and gossip. harry can’t help but fall in love with the everything about this. -

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 - 38k - T “Harry’s heavy thoughts lift at the sight, like dark clouds blown away from the sun by the wind. The tent doesn’t feel so cramped and stifling now. It feels cozy. And safe. It’s the same feeling that Harry gets when he’s at the Burrow for Sunday roasts, when a group of people who care for each other deeply are crammed into too-small a space.” --harry wanders to the lovegood house on a sunday afternoon. he’s baffled to see that luna’s taken pansy, greg, and draco under her wing. what follows is a summer of forest walks, scavenger hunts, gardening, water fights, odd cakes, faerie rings, and picnics. so many picnics. i love the pace of this fic, the innocent return to childhood things, the way luna brings out the best in all her friends. reluctantly soft slytherins are just *chefs kiss*!! -

Going Postal (A 125pg comic) by dustmouth - T what. a. beautiful. ass. comic. the wizarding fashion, the textures, the character design!! harry travels a lot for his job as a resourcer. draco works in the regulations dept. they pine like a bunch of lovesick idiots via field report notes. god i love dustmouth’s art. -

All the Earnest Young Men by @tepre​ - 29k - E “Draco is twenty-seven layers of personality wrapped up in drama and humour, and a wit so sharp it still stings when he doesn’t see it coming. But there is something below that, too. Something that makes Harry ache just looking at him.” --the way i would lay down my little life for tepre’s characterization of draco, whom invented the word earnest. he’s a magical art theory expert and portraits are disappearing all over London and harry’s the auror assigned to this case. and well. they’re both so very avoidant about how gay they are for each other and it’s like!! shutup and kiss!! which they do in fact, shutup and kiss.  -

Trenches by sara_holmes - 3k - M “Somewhere in the distant part of his mind that hasn't frozen solid, he thinks that maybe he and Draco are about to become more than auror partners, smoking buddies, wine-mates and co-inhabitants of a snow filled trench somewhere in western Scotland.” --the plot line here is literally “it’s cold and i need a fucking cigarette” but let me tell you how I never tire of the shared loaded-silences of two emotionally repressed gays. -

The Years Before Love by lomonaaeren - 13k - M “That’s one of the meanings of peace, he thinks, as Hermione hugs him...That he can do things slowly, softly, without worrying that they won’t be there tomorrow.” --andromeda taking harry under her wing and harry finding solace in teddy. narcissa and draco showing up and the tentative relationships that slowly develop in the quiet calm of andromeda’s house. found families and kisses in the snow and special xmas gifts ugh what’s not to love -

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy - 35k - M “I want this to be a house where people are welcome, where they don’t have to be any one way or another” --in which harry collects lost things--owls, best friends, inept bakers, potions experimenters--and turns the mausoleum that is grimmauld place into a home. feat. your fave drarry tropes like shared-beds and reluctant waltzing partners. -

[part 1: thrillers | part 2: dramas | part 3: soft bois | part 4: wankbanks]

#drarry fic rec #drarry fic #soft drarry #OK FINE I RAMBLED BUT WHAT DID WE EXPECT #alexa play futile devices

[migilini]

Can I request an imagine with Charlie and like a typical day in their lives? Like they show their YouTube viewers their casual (Charlie chaos included) day? 💕

Typical - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: Sorry it took me a bit, had to take my wisdom teeth out... Anyways, I hope you like it :)) - Momo

words: 1.3k

warnings: fluffy like the clouds

requests are open :)

My MASTERLIST

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

“Hello hello and welcome back!” you told the camera propped up on one of your kitchen counters. The shot showing your tired face and loose pyjamas. A yawn escaped your slightly chapped lips as you tried to stretch the sleep away. Your eyes were heavy, your hair standing up in every possible direction, your body not fully awake yet.

“A lot of people asked for a little day to day vlog with the Gillespies,” you muttered as you made yourself a cup of coffee, the sparkling ring on your left ring finger very prominent in the shot.

“So we try to deliver! I just woke up a couple of minutes ago so excuse the light grogginess and don't know where my fiance is. Seems like you guys have to put up with only me for a bit.” you chuckled and poured milk into the steaming hot beverage.

“Sadly, we really don't have a lot to do today, well not much is planned…” you referred to the normal chaos a day with Charlie entailed. “We just need to run some errands, but I have a gut feeling that today will be a good one.”

You ended the clip and moved into your living room to turn up the radio. Ever since you were little, there was always some sort of music softly playing and therefore you hated a quiet house. It wasn't like you paid attention to the songs dancing through the air but the constant rumbling of background noise calms you down.

A little yellow piece of paper on the coffee table catches your eye. With furrowed eyebrows, you made your way over. Your eyes grew as you recognized Charlie's messy handwriting. Once again, you started a clip on your camera.

“I just found a secret message from Charlie on our coffee table.” you cleared your throat and started reading the note dramatically “‘Good morning Toots! I’m on a run and didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful. I'll bring coffee from Allie’s. I love you, C Swizzle’” you grinned at the note, your heart beating faster with the love you have for him. “Hereby I declare the mystery where C Swizzle aka Char is as solved! I’m so hyped for the coffee. Allie’s is our favourite place in the whole city! Seriously if you're close by go and try it. So worth it. Now, until he’s back I’m gonna answer some emails and do our dishes from yesterday evening. You’re welcome to join me while I jam out to music.”

You propped the camera up on a shelf, filming yourself working for a bit. Then you went to the kitchen and turned up the music blaring out of the speakers you set up mere moments before. “Whenever I walk in the room. All the focus on me. The way I talk, the way I move. They all want on my team. Not tryin' to brag, brag, but I'm flawless.” screaming on the top of your lungs, you swayed your hips while the water from your tap filled the sink, the soap starting to bubble up.

“I'm taking over your playlist. Ain't perfect, but I can't miss, yeah. The party don't start 'til I walk in. I'm stealing all the attention. Don't get me started on mentions, yeah” A poor spoon had to be a placeholder microphone as you jumped through the small kitchen. Genuinely engulfed in the music, you didn't even hear the front door open and close. You didn't hear the footsteps walking towards you or the light chuckle that escaped the person's lips.

Sweaty arms wrapped themselves around your waist, making you scream and drop the cup you’ve been washing. The ceramic dish exploded on the floor, covering it in tiny splinters and shards. Charlie laughed at your reaction and pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder. “Sorry, Toots didn't want to scare you. I thought you heard me come in. Good morning by the way.” At the sound of his voice, you immediately relaxed. You weren't being murdered by an intruder. Turning around in his arms, you faced your boyfriend, your back pressed against the sink.

“I thought this was my last minute on earth. You really want to kill me before you even have the chance to marry me.” you chuckled and kissed his nose. “Where would be the fun in that? I do want to inherit some of your stuff.”

You lightly shoved him away but his arms stayed looking around your smaller frame. Looking down at the cup you frowned. “That was my favourite.”

“I'll get you another one. One that's even better than this one. Again I’m sorry.”

“I'll remember that. How was the run?” absentmindedly your hand brushed away some stray hairs that flew into Charlie's face. “Good.” he murmured “I don't like running with a mask on but it was all worth it because…” he turned around and got a little bag from the counter behind him. “I got us some coffee and that cream bagel you like so much.” you beamed up at him.

“Really?”

The next time you vlogged was at the grocery store several hours later. Charlie was pushing the shopping cart, while still holding your hand as you tried to deceiver your own grocery list. The camera sat comfortably at the front of the cart, framing you perfectly.

“Why did you think it was funny to write most of this in french?” you asked the boy next to you. He gave your hand a squeeze “Because you sometimes write stuff in german as well. It's only fair.”

You only rolled your eyes at that. “Yeah because I forgot the English word.” you huffed “Okay so we need d'oeufs. Eggs? And some milk. Right?”

“Mais oui mademoiselle.” He said amused.

“If you continue I will start to speak german,” you warned your boyfriend and you could bet that he was smiling under that mask.

“Threatening me in the grocery store? That's mean but the game is on honey.”

“You're gonna lose my dear. I had some french at school.” you let go of his hand and crossed your arms, raising one of your eyebrows at him while both of you grabbed some items you needed.

It wasn't the first time that the two of you suddenly challenged each other. One time, a couple of months ago, Charlie just randomly started to run and yelled back at you “Whoever is the last at the restaurant has to pay!” and with these words, he triggered your ambition. You struggled to get rid of your heels, hoping for the majority of the way as the two of you raced, reaching the restaurant sweaty and out of breath, earning some stares from other couples. Or another time where you suddenly claimed that you would be able to eat more pizza than him. A bet that you lost terribly.

Situations like this were normal for you, both really competitive and hardheaded. It was one of the things that spiced up daily life.

He raised both of his eyebrows, sparking a fire behind his eyes. “Essaie-moi, baby (Try me, baby)”

“In Ordnung, ab jetzt werde ich nur noch deutsch mit dir sprechen. (Alright, from now on I will only talk in german to you)”

Let’s just say the grocery shopping was a huge mess and took twice as long. You told Charlie to go and get the toothpaste and he came back with some pears which earned a laugh from you. Charlie tried to explain to you what he wanted to cook for you tomorrow evening, ingredients and everything but you only stared at him confused, occasionally nodding your head so he knew you were still listening. The dinner was gonna be a full surprise.

The two of you kept the act up all the way back to your apartment. You unpacked the food and had a camera recording somewhere. For the second time that day, arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled in the crook of the neck.

“Do you have anything else planned for today?” he mumbled into your skin, his hot breath on your skin giving you goosebumps. A smile spread over your face. Wiggling out of his grip you sat on the tabletop and Charlie immediately stood between your legs, his arms around your neck. He leaned in to kiss you but before his lips touched yours you whispered “I won.”

His eyes grew wide and he pulled away slightly. He huffed and shook his head “Man I totally forgot about that. What is your prize, my lady?”

You traced his jaw with your index finger whilst your eyes never left his. “I demand… a thousand kisses!”

“A thousand?!” he exclaimed “My lady that's too many. You're going to starve the whole town.”

“Well then the town shouldn't have lost.” you teased back.

A smile was prominent on his face as he leaned in closer again “I must say you're a demanding ruler. But it seems like I must comply…”

The two of you stayed in bed for the rest of the day, only moving over to the couch to zap through Netflix. Naturally one of you already placed the camera on the shelf next to you.

Charlie tapped you on the shoulder, looking up from his spot half between your legs and on top of you.

“Yes, bubbs?”

“Play with my hair please.” he nearly whispered and made himself comfortable once again. Tiny hands finding their place in his dark hair.

At first, it was really weird to vlog all the time especially on a day where you and Charlie were just fooling around and being lovey-dovey. Luckily, you could still decide how much you wanted to cut out for the final video.

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Taglist: @alluringworld

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfic

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Caroline Mulford

(My ugly gif)(Requested by @foulobjectdelusion )

- Caroline is the most popular girl in school who’s dating the most popular boy in school, everyone knows who she is, you included. But you’re practically invisible to people like her. You aren’t popular, you aren’t in their circle, the most you’ll get is a friendly wave/nod or an obligatory partnering for a project.

- That doesn’t stop you from having a crush on her ...like practically everyone else in the school. Yeah, you’ve been pining for the pretty blonde since your freshman year, but it isn’t really your fault is it? You could hardly even have a conversation with her, let alone admit you have a Sapphic crush on her. All you can do is pine.

- That all changes after one very special summer. You’d gone on a trip, gotten a bit more fashionable clothing, learned how to properly do your makeup and changed your hair; you’d even had a short fling and felt what it was like to be in a relationship. You were a new woman and it didn’t take long for people to notice.

- One of the popular boys invited you to join him and his friend group at their usual hangout spot, and you, feeling like you were in some sort of teen movie, obviously agreed. That was where she approached you.

- That's right: She approached you. Granted, she didn’t know who you were and actually started your conversation with a “You must be new! I’m Caroline.” as if you’d transferred schools but you didn’t correct her and more or less kept up the façade. You supposed you’d be a new woman in more ways than one.

- Though you did keep just about every other aspect of your life the same, you just let them think you hadn’t attended the school until now. Hey, if they didn’t recognize you that was their fault, right?

- Caroline liked you almost immediately though it was purely platonic. You were surprised to see just how sweet she was, even though you’d heard rumors and seen it for yourself on occasion. The two of you became friends that afternoon and you found yourself thrust into a life of popularity. One you only could have dreamed of until now.

- Now you’re being invited to parties and sitting at the popular table and going to the mall with Caroline; who you’re still practically obsessed with, and your life is practically perfect. You feel like you’re at the top of the world ...but then, you see her kiss Jake and you can feel yourself falling.

- You’d never realized how draining it would be to be up close. It was almost better to be far away from her, at least then you couldn’t be able to see the love shining in her eyes when she looked at him.

- Hell, you now babysat her brother while she went on dates with the boy.

- It was almost humorous, the duality of your popularity; everything could be so good and yet so bad at the same time.

- Finally, everything changed after one of Jakes; or rather her, parties. She’d gotten absolutely plastered; as per usual, and you were the only one sober enough to make sure she didn’t die during the night.

- So there you were, trying to pull drinks out of her hand and guiding her to a couch as she pawed all over you and her surroundings, giggling and stumbling the entire way there.

- Pretty much everyone had left the boys house, leaving a mess in their wake. All except you, who’d been waiting to see if Jake was going to deal with the girl before you drove yourself home.

- As the two of you sat, she sighed and laid her head in your lap, gushing about how much she cared about and loved you. You sighed and told her you cared about her too, brushing the hair from your face exasperatedly.

“No, not like that. I love, love, loveeee you.” She insisted.

- You thought nothing of it, giving her a “yep, yeah I know.” before you felt her hands on your face. Before you knew it, she’d pulled your face down and pressed her lips to yours, causing you to freeze in place.

- You quickly pulled away and shifted her out of your lap, telling her that you needed to get her home and that she was drunk. Fuck Jake. You’d deal with her this time whether he liked it or not.

- So you heaved her up and got her in your car, getting ready to drive her home before she nearly made you crash said car and insisted that you pull over. She was lucid for all of five minutes before she wound up passed out in your backseat with you. You soon followed suit and fell asleep clutching your keys and jacket.

- When you woke up in the morning, the two of you had a nice, awkward talk about what happened and she admitted that she had feelings for you and you for her. You told her that if anything was gonna happen, she’d have to break up with Jake which she agreed to.

- The two of you had your first date later that day. You went to a nice Waffle House to help with her wicked hangover and when you got back inside your car, she leaned over and gave you a real kiss to make up for the one she’d drunkenly stolen the night prior.

- And just like that, things were messily made perfect.

- Most people just think that you’re close friends so the two of you can get away with some pda; though you obviously aren’t really able to kiss in public. Regardless, even if she can’t show people that you’re a couple, she’s going to make it obvious; in one way or another, that you’re off limits. 

- Long hugs. 

- Handholding or your arm around her shoulders and her arm around your waist; or vice versa depending on your height. 

- Corner of the mouth kisses. 

- Deep, soft kisses. 

- Slow makeouts. 

- Hair petting. It’s a habit of hers. 

- There’s quite a bit of snuggling in your relationship. She likes laying her head on your shoulder or chest whenever you do, tracing patterns on your shirt while you wrap your arms around her.

- As we all know, Caroline's little brother is deaf so one can assume that she’s a bit attention starved at home. So, on that note, she always wants to be the center of your attention. God forbid you have homework to do; she’ll bother you until you take a break and give her what she wants.

- She usually just calls you some cutesy form of your given name or honey, maybe hun or babe when you’re out in public since girls can call their friends those. 

- Her parents don’t seem to be uptight in the slightest so you’re usually allowed to stay out for a long time and pretty much do whatever you want.

- Going to parties.

- Taking care of her at parties.

- Staying up until the early morning and watching the sunrise, usually while you’re both a little tipsy.

- Picnics.

- Beach dates.

- Almost always walking to class together. You’ll usually end up carrying her books because she’s a bit of a princess.

- Copying each others school and homework. If you can’t cheat off your partner, are you even dating?

- Taking photos together and of each other. She’ll take offense if you don’t have a picture of her framed on your nightstand.

- Please give her gifts; she loves them so much. You’ll never see her smile wider.

- Her asking you to get her things. She’s the girlfriend who calls you over just to ask you to go and grab her something from somewhere; usually with a cutesy little smile and a please.

- She wouldn’t be caught dead riding the bus and she sort of hates to drive so you usually end up driving her wherever she wants; or at least to and from school.

- Honestly talking about which movie stars you think are hot and would be obligated to marry if they asked.

- Going to the mall. It’s her favorite place.

- Helping her zip herself into dresses or pick things out when the two of you go shopping. She always asks you a million questions before she actually buys something.

- Popularity is pretty important to her so she’ll want the two of you to look your best when you’re out together. If you’re less stylish than her, she’s gonna wanna make you over.

- Doing each other’s nails.

- Laughing and cursing at each other as you do beauty rituals. You always have a lot of fun when you’re putting on face masks or cutting each other’s hair, etc.

- She pretty much lives at your house at this point. She comes over nearly everyday and spends more time in your room than her own.

- She becomes a part of your family whether or not your parents know that the two of you are dating. They either accept her as your girlfriend or just assume that you’re really close friends. The same goes for her family.

- I feel like she has the type of family that packs everyone up and takes them camping at least once a year so ...wanna go camping with her?

- Festive holidays. Her family probably goes skiing every winter and are really into the holidays and you; being her best friend tm, are always invited to join them.

- Staying over while she babysits her little brother. The little dude likes you a lot.

- It’s pretty funny to watch her go from her popular, cutesy teenage girl self to a mature, protective woman when she’s with her little brother. She’ll be batting her eyelashes at you one minute and doing sign language and/or watching her little brother like a hawk the next.

- She’s sort of oblivious when you’re upset and not the most considerate of your feelings but she’s trying to be better.

- That being said, she’s able to be reassuring and comforting when she realizes that she needs to be. She’s even sweeter and smarter than everyone in your school anticipated.

- She’s a bit paranoid when it comes to you and other girls so she’s definitely a pretty jealous person. She’ll usually sit in your lap; when she can, to make it clear that you’re a couple, plastering on a fake smile and greeting the other person like she hadn’t seen them there.

- She’ll later; bluntly, confront you about it, and will take your word for it but she’ll occasionally threaten the fact that she can easily find someone else.

- You’re the one who has to be protective, considering the fact that she tries to kill herself every other weekend.

- The two of you have quite a few short arguments but they’re rarely ever serious. You tend to settle them fairly quickly so you rarely ever have a “we’re in a fight” moment with your mutual friends.

- She usually tries to use cuteness to win you over; if you’re really fighting, or just concedes mid argument and accepts what you’ve said after a bit of convincing. She’ll give a real apology if her cute face doesn’t work but she’d prefer not having to do so.

- She tells you that she loves you fairly often; particularly when she’s drunk.

- She’s pretty fond of talking about the future. She makes it very obvious that’s she’s planning on staying with you for the rest of her life and it always warms your heart to hear it.

#caroline mulford imagine #caroline mulford headcanons #caroline mulford imagines #caroline mulford headcanon #sixteen candles imagine #sixteen candles headcanons #sixteen candles imagines #sixteen candles headcanon #80s movie imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

[shinelikethunder]

Rewatching Hannibal 1x07 Sorbet, and noticing how much of it is about what happens when you don’t become the mask you wear for the rest of the world. What happens to the part of you that’s stubbornly distinct from your façade, when it’s been trapped behind it for so long that even you aren’t sure what it might look like when viewed (...seen). The fear that it’s malformed and pitiable, followed by the slim, terrifying hope that the person who glimpses it might care more about it than about your meticulously-ornamented shell. (Which, among other things, hoo boy if that ain’t a Big Queer Mood... fitting, really, that this is the episode with a gratifying little revenge fantasy about medical homophobia, serophobia, and hostile assumptions about what “ugly little secret” you must be hiding.)

And in that context, one of the Thomas Harris quotes remixed into this episode makes a lot more sense to me than it did on previous viewings: “I see [the Ripper] as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals [...] They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.” It’s a demonstration of the thing Hannibal finds most terrifying and alluring about Will: he keeps seeing through all the personae and person suits. At this point it’s through a glass darkly, but still with shocking clarity, considering he doesn’t even know what--who--he’s seeing. Hannibal spends the episode coming up with new misdirections on the spot to test him: the “Chesapeake Ripper or organ harvesters?” red herring, the little game of “two lies and a truth” with the Ripper photos in Quantico. And every time, Will demolishes the misdirections and acknowledges the tiny scraps of truth, almost effortlessly, without even realizing what he’s doing. The episode ends with Will skipping out on the Extremely Person Suit dinner party to go examine its ugly underbelly: the Ripper cases that put the food on the table. Of course Hannibal is secretly delighted at the snub.

It’s the prospect of being seen that forces Hannibal to reckon with what the thing under his many masks might look like. The thing that so stubbornly refuses to die, even when starved of connection or recognition. And the unpleasant truth is that that thing looks a lot more like Franklyn than he’d ever want to admit.

Franklyn is so cringe-inducing to watch as a character--and no doubt even more unpleasant to interact with--that, as with Freddie Lounds, the audience kinda has to wonder why Hannibal hasn’t killed him already. I suspect the answer is that he has a weird soft spot for Franklyn as a form of painful self-recognition. Trying to help Mr. Secondhand Embarrassment Personified is like watching a well-hidden, well-guarded part of himself walk around naked, no manners or charm or cultivation, none of the protections that make his person suit so well-tailored. The part that craves connection but has no idea how to go about it, the part that’s fascinated with (curious about) other people but avoids looking at the stunted void it fears is where its sense of self should be. Or, to get all purple about it: Franklyn is a man who flinches at the threshold of his innermost self, but shorn of all the exquisite mental architecture Hannibal's built himself to live in, reduced to begging anyone nearby for shelter.

Even in the next episode, Hannibal goes out of his way to encourage Tobias not to murder Franklyn, which is about as much mercy as he ever shows to people he has personal affection for but wouldn’t hesitate to kill for pragmatic reasons. Of course, because he’s Hannibal, he ends up murdering the poor bastard himself with no hesitation or remorse--but it’s not because of some line of unbearableness that Franklyn finally crossed. It’s because his desire to spite Tobias was stronger than any hope of sparing Franklyn, who by that point had probably seen too much anyway. In his next session with Bedelia he tells her one of his little sideways truths--yes, it’s funny on its face to see him go “I feel responsible for what happened to him” about the man whose neck he snapped with his own hands, but I do think he feels regret if not remorse, for not managing to engineer a situation that kept his cringey shadow self out of the line of fire.

(Side note: I suspect the reason Freddie Lounds didn’t get eaten in the very second episode is that she was the only other person to see through Will’s protective suit of “socially inept smol bean who is very distressed by the insights he gets from his Unspecified Problems Disorder.” Sure, she’s an absolute bitch about it, but she’s an absolute bitch who can pull off outfits even more outrageous than Hannibal’s--she appeals to his sense of fun. As soon as he realized she’d clocked Will as absolutely fucking seething with all kinds of dark potential 24/7, he decided her rudeness and vulgarity were far outweighed by the entertainment value of having her around to cause problems on purpose.)

(Side note #2: All of this neglects the main casefic plot, which does connect to the same themes, but somewhat less directly. The other person going around without a mask in 1x07 is Devon Silvestri, who’s also kind of an inept schlub when viewed for what he really is. He didn’t arrange that crime scene to look like a Ripper murder, he just panicked and GTFO’d--all the conflation comes from Jack Crawford’s desire to find the Ripper and from Hannibal seizing on it as an opportunity for misdirection. It does lead to some fun playing with “are the mutilations for Art (artifice, performance) or for more prosaic uses of the organs?” when the answer, of course, is that the difference between the Ripper murders and the botched organ theft is “why not both?” Silvestri’s one real deception is to pass himself off as an emergency first responder (his day job) while he’s working his less altruistic sideline, and we also get some fun triangulation when Hannibal has to take on that role for real. Will sees him, gets his first good look at Hannibal’s mastery of this skillset that he once cultivated as part of his person suit, but also sees him looking absolutely in his element as he uses his power over life and death to preserve life. He sees it even more clearly against the backdrop of Silvestri’s dubious competence and furtive discomfort with what he’s doing. In his conscious mind he accepts the best possible interpretation of that glimpse, even as he feels a bunch of less-conscious connections snap into place at the sight--ones he isn’t ready to face yet, but boy is he having Big Feelings about it. Some of which may or may not be diverting blood from his brain, and/or setting him up for uncomfortable wet dreams about Hannibal’s hands in his viscera, but thaaat’s probably a topic for another post.)

Anyway. Sorbet as an episode is about the exact opposite of “fake it ‘til you make it”--it’s about the self that doesn’t become what it performs, the wonder of having someone glimpse it no matter how well-hidden it is, and, crucially, the terror of finally examining what someone else may have glimpsed and finding it stunted, ugly, even pitiable in its isolation. Neither the “thing that doesn’t die” quote nor any of the stuff with Franklyn makes sense, IMO, without the realization that Franklyn is an uncomfortable mirror of what’s under Hannibal’s human veil--and that Hannibal is equal parts intrigued and freaked the fuck out that Will keeps catching glimpses of him through the veil.

#hannibal #meta #sorbet #hannibal lecter #will graham #franklyn froideveaux #freddie lounds #sure is a bunch of tasty Mortifying Ordeal bullshit in this episode #here have some tl;dr about it

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

So I finally started to write another story...

I will try and post weekly, but can’t promise on account of real life and my inability to actually focus on translating what’s in my head onto paper (or screen!)

Getting the courage to post never gets any easier, but here goes. I hope you enjoy this frothy bit of fun. I will also post on AO3.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for being an excellent beta.

Chapter 1: From Airport to Aggravation

Bank holiday crowds, on the whole, are hell.

And this one is rapidly turning into an even deeper level of purgatory. The hottest May for years in Scotland and I’m stuck at Glasgow airport with a dozen women, collectively known as ‘Geillis’s Hen Party Posse’, each displaying varying degrees of inebriation, hangover or general sleep deprivation, and all aiming for the luggage carousel showing the flight from Barcelona. Which apparently is where several hundred other disembarked passengers are also heading.

Eventually, I manage to get a view of the bags and cases slowly making their way around the belt. They’re pretty picked over by this time, apart from the couple of boxes covered in gaffer tape that always seem to be first off a plane—any plane—and last to be collected. They’re always there, on every flight. Why is that?

I pause from my musings to wave frantically at Geillis, who now has a trolley and is clearing a path straight towards me.

“I got us a trolley.” she informs me, stating the obvious. “I thought it’d be easier. Have ye seen ours yet, Claire? I canna see the others. They must have already gone through.”

“No,” I answer, keeping my eyes firmly on the little hatch, willing our bags to appear. All I want is to go home, put my sleep mask on and try and get some sleep. Three days in Barcelona celebrating Geillis’s forthcoming nuptials have worn me out, and, I glance at my watch, I am due in theatre in approximately seventeen hours time.

"It's there, it's there," Geillis points excitedly at the neon pink and green leopard print bag making its way towards us.

She makes a grab for it as I continue to look for my bag. Predictably, it’s one of the last ones on the carousel. I recognise it immediately from the piece of red gift ribbon tied to the handle of the plain black Samsonite. I load it onto the trolley and Geillis and I head through customs to join the rest of the posse.

We say our goodbyes loudly, with much hugging and kisses. A stranger viewing this scene might imagine we won’t be seeing each other again for weeks or even months. In truth, I’ll be seeing most of them in the next week or so at the hospital as our schedules coincide.

“Shall we two get a taxi, then?” Geillis asks me.

I start to answer as my mobile pings — a text from Frank...very nice, very caring, very predictable.

Darling, it’s been a long three days without you. I am ready to collect you from the airport if you would like. If not, might I see you later this evening? xxx

And that is very clearly Frank. Correct grammar and punctuation, even on his texts. I shake my head as if to drive away my inner bitch and pretend I haven’t read it. I will respond, of course, just later when I’m back at home.

So, I smile at Geillis and agree. “Of course, we can go halves.”

***********

As I walk into my flat, the peace and quiet and sheer bloody calm wraps itself around me like a swaddling cloth. It’s blissfully cool too, with all the shutters closed.

It’s not that I didn’t have a good time in Barcelona. It was actually great. But being in the company of others twenty four hours a day is wearing, much as I love them. And we all had to do everything together. No sneaking off for a solitary walk, or escaping to bed for a little siesta.

I deposit my suitcase by the bedroom door, slip off my converse, pour myself a glass of orange juice, settle down on the sofa and figure out how best to tell Frank not tonight without offending him.

Frank, Sorry but tonight isn’t —

I delete and try again.

Thanks for the offer to pick me up. I was already in the taxi when I got it. Can we give tonight a miss? Theatre in the morning and I’m knackered totally exhausted. You know what Geillis is like. Speak tomorrow, I promise. C

Frank knows what Geillis is like. Frank thinks Geillis is a bad influence on me, with her larger than life personality and wild ideas. I think Frank doesn’t really know me at all if he believes I can be influenced like that. I hang out with Geillis and my friends because they’re fun and we laugh… a lot.

Without realising, I feel my shoulder muscles relax as soon as I’ve sent the message. These are not good signs for my relationship with Frank. He’s investing far more into ‘us’ than I am willing to do. But as long as I’m honest with him…

There are advantages to being with Frank, of course. He’s punctual, very organised and a proficient and considerate lover. He always makes sure I come, even if I sometimes...er… exaggerate my reactions to hurry things along. So much for honesty, then.

I finish my orange juice and plan my evening. Four things to do - unpack, grab some food, shower and sleep. Not even going to wash my hair. That would really be too much effort, struggling with my untameable mane, and it’s going to be stuck under a surgical cap for most of tomorrow anyway.

It takes a bit of effort to actually move from the sofa. I could quite happily fall asleep there. But then I’d wake up in the middle of the night—starving hungry and still smelling of sweaty airports. Reluctantly, I haul myself into a vertical position and head for my bedroom picking up my suitcase en route.

Opening the suitcase, I am not greeted with the expected haphazard mass of sun dresses, t shirts and shorts—all with the evocative aroma of Hawaiian Tropic—but a layer of white dress shirts, immaculately folded and the faint scent of a musky cologne.

Shit, shit, shit!! Some else has walked off with my black samsonite with the red ribbon on the handle. My evening plans are rapidly going awry. I delve into my handbag praying that I kept my boarding pass with the sticky bar code luggage receipt. The relief when I find it lurking in the bottom of my bag is immense. Quickly I google the airline lost baggage number and dial.

After a few bars of some god awful plinky plinky hold music, I hear a recorded message. “Your call is important to us, please hold. Your call is important to us, please hold.”

Good to know, then back to the plinky plinky before another message. “The office you are trying to reach is now closed. Please try again during office hours nine am to five thirty. Thank you.”

“If my call is so important to you, why is no one there at six o’clock?” I yell down the phone, but the plinky plinky ignores me and continues its irritating melody.

I sigh. I don’t want to have to wait until tomorrow morning to sort this out. Besides, by nine am tomorrow morning, I will be somewhat unavailable - reshaping the hip bone of a seven year old boy. So, I have no alternative. I will have to have a bit of a dig around this stranger’s suitcase, looking for any clue or contact details.

As I start to have a feel around, it occurs to me that some stranger might, at this very moment, be doing exactly the same thing — having a poke around my suitcase in the hope of finding my details. No doubt judging me based on my choice of holiday attire.  And, I suddenly realise, his judgement may well be coloured by the discovery of some items of a more adult nature.

I say ‘he’, based on the XL white shirts, the pair of battered jeans and faded Scotland rugby shirt, but I could be wrong. I don’t have to dig any further into the case as I spy, in a mesh pocket, a neat rectangle of card with a name — James Fraser — a mobile number and an email address.

Relief sweeps over me. Perhaps we can get this all sorted tonight. Unless this James Fraser lives miles away and was just passing through Glasgow on his way to, say, the Outer Hebrides. That could be a whole other level of problem.

I quickly reach for my phone. Another message from Frank awaits.

Are you sure, darling? I’m looking forward to seeing you. Would tomorrow evening work for you?

I ignore it for the moment. Let me sort my luggage issue out first.

I dial the number on the card and begin to pace around my bedroom as it rings and rings. I am just about to give up when, thankfully, it’s answered.

“Hello?” A female voice asks warily.

I clear my throat and put on my most pleasant phone voice. “Is there a James Fraser there please?”

“Ye’ve the wrong number.”

“Oh, sorry, I must have mis—“ I begin, but find myself apologising to dead air.

I try again, carefully comparing each digit to those written, very neatly, on the card.

“Hello?” The same female voice answers, more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry, but this is the number I have for James Fra—“

“And I already told ye, ye’ve the wrong number. Dinna bother again.”

In the days before mobiles, I’m sure this would have been accompanied by a deafening crash as the receiver hit the cradle. Pressing a soft key doesn’t have the same dramatic effect. But I get the message anyway.

So, new plan needed. All I can do is email this James Fraser and hope he actually has written down the correct email address. If not, I’ll have to sort it out with the airline tomorrow afternoon.

My stomach rumbles and I suddenly realise that I’ve not eaten since breakfast, unless you count the slices of fruit in my jug of sangria. I wander into the kitchen and peruse the contents of my cupboards and fridge. I’m not the most gifted cook, but I’m not too bad and can usually rustle up something edible and fairly tasty. The bread feels a bit on the dry side but will be fine toasted, and I know I have eggs.

I put a knob of butter in a pan and text Frank while I’m waiting for it to sizzle.

Think tomoz will be ok. Talk 2morrow. C

I don’t normally use text speak at all,  but something about Frank’s perfectly formed text messages always makes me want to rebel. I can imagine him wincing right now.  He’s a professor at the university and is forever complaining about the standard of literacy amongst his undergraduates. If he thinks he has problems, he should try dealing with junior doctors.

With my scrambled egg on toast all eaten, I focus my attention on the email to James Fraser. I write it quickly, brief and to the point: I have your suitcase and therefore presume you have mine, can we meet to swap them over and here’s my phone number.

The longing for a shower and then bed is now overwhelming. I strip off and bundle all my clothes into the laundry basket, tie my hair up with a scrunchie and step into my shower. This is undoubtedly one of my favourite places on earth and possibly the reason that I bought this flat. Large enough for two, I suppose. Although none have yet been invited to partake in this heavenly experience. Maybe I’m saving that for someone extra special. It has a huge overhead rainfall shower head and a handheld shower head too.

My indulgences are all in here — a selection of expensive shower gels, scrubs and lotions and an assortment of huge fluffy bath towels. I choose a lavender scented gel and scrub all traces of the day from my skin.

Wrapping myself  in one of my pristine white towels, I slather shea butter lotion on my slightly sun-burnt skin, noticing the uneven red patches where the sun cream hadn’t quite reached but at least it’s not sore.

A quick check of my emails shows there’s no word from James Fraser as yet, so I decide to just settle down to sleep and leave luggage worries until the morning. Fortunately, I had changed the sheets before my weekend away, so I simply unwrap my towel, leaving it in a heap on the floor and slide into bed. The feeling of the cool, crisp bedding against my skin is wonderful. I assume a sort of diagonal starfish position, not having to worry about any other occupants. It crosses my mind whether to reach for the tiny vibrator in my bedside drawer, but I’m too comfortable and drowsy for that, so instead I check my alarm and settle down for sleep.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Just a Friend #chapter 1 #Here goes

[angst-fairygodmother]

Tinsel: All Aglow (A Light Fingers Christmas Special 2/2)

Read Chapter 1 here: First Christmas A/N: We go from happy Christmas fluff to angsty sort of plot relevant stuff. But still kind of soft? Word Count: 2314 Content Warnings: discussion of childhood poverty, social workers, implied/referenced child abuse and neglect (past), references to drugs Cross-posted to AO3: here

“Hey, Y/N,” Klaus asked after the others had left, having stuck around to help with clean up the party and have the chance to get to know you better. “You look really familiar. Have we met before?”

“What?” you asked, frowning in confusion, at the same time Diego did with a seemingly affronted tone, one you knew was a cover for his insecurity at being reminded of your colorful acquaintances.

“Yeah. Yeah, I definitely do. I’d recognize that adorable face anywhere. It’s the eyes I think…I just can’t figure out where from…”

You grimaced. You could think of a lot of places a junkie might know you from: pawn shops, back alleys, sketchy clubs, your fence’s house, to name just a few. Luckily Eudora was long gone, so reference to your illegal activities wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if it came up, but honestly you didn’t want to be reminded of them tonight of all nights, not after the evening had gone so well up until now. 

“The mausoleum!” he suddenly shouted with a snap of his fingers.

“What?” Diego asked with real confusion now. 

Klaus turned excitedly to Diego. “Remember, I swore you and Ben to secrecy because Dad would have been so pissed? The girl, the one that glowed and kept me company when Dad locked me up, and helped hold the ghosts at bay?”

“I always thought you were making that up. Or that it was a friendly ghost that made the others back off somehow. I never…You’re telling me it was Y/N?”

He turned back to you for confirmation. You studied Klaus, the pinch of your eyebrows as you concentrated creating that cute little furrow that was of Diego’s favorite quirks of yours. 

“Oh!” you cried suddenly, remembering. 

You had snuck into one of the creepy old buildings in the graveyard near your family’s home to hide from the woman discussing “removal.” You were just making yourself comfortable in one of the cubbies, meant for coffins and just tall enough to sit in, when the doors were thrown wide and a boy about your age had stumbled in. 

“Three hours,” a voice which later haunted your nightmares had barked. “Maybe by then you will have learned that death is to be controlled, not feared.”

The boy was crying. You felt terrible. So you made yourself glow, though it was hard without much to draw from, and poked your head out of your hiding spot. He screamed and started crying more. It took quite a bit to calm him down and explain that you weren’t a ghost or a monster, and then he’d explained that he could see ghosts but they terrified him and his father was unhappy with him because of it. 

“Your dad is a bully, and when he comes back, I’ll kick him,” you offered your new friend. 

While he hadn’t accepted that offer, he had the one to come back again in case he was ever thrown in there again, and to shed a little light while he was there (even though it made you feel sleepy and sick to keep it up for so long. It wasn’t like your new friend needed to know that, and he needed your power more than enough to make it worthwhile). 

It was no surprise, really, that you hadn’t recognized Klaus. He looked extremely different from his childhood self. It wasn’t a bad look by any means, but it certainly wasn’t the round-cheeked, freckle-faced and crying boy you had known. And it had been so long ago, a friendship that had ended when you were about seven, after one incident where you'd nearly been caught and he had been more scared of what his father might do to you than he was of the dark and the ghosts. He had insisted that he never wanted to see you again, and not knowing yet how to fight for the things that mattered, you had let him push you away.  

“Huh,” you finally said, acknowledging the accusation. “Small world.”

“You knew Klaus? Why didn’t you say anything?” Diego asked, unable to keep the hurt from his voice. 

“To be honest, I didn’t realize...I sort of forgot,” you said, hoping to brush the whole thing aside. “I try not to think about...roughly ages four to nine. It wasn’t a good time to be me.”

Diego raised an eyebrow and you knew he wouldn’t let it go, so you sighed.

“Look. It was after Dad died. Mom wasn’t doing well emotionally, and money was tight. Apparently when your kids constantly show up to school with no breakfast in them and no lunch, and their jeans are held together with strips of duct tape because a roll of that is cheaper than trying to get new clothes, it raises questions about parental fitness. There were a lot of social workers in and out of my life, and I spent a lot of time running away. Can we not talk about this on Christmas?” you asked quickly, your voice tight, before turning to Diego’s brother. “Where are you staying tonight Klaus? Our couch is available if you don’t already have a place.”

“I’d love to crash at yours, if my brother doesn’t mind,” Klaus said, offering you a hesitant smile. 

“He doesn’t,” you replied determinedly, and both brothers glanced at each other over your head, a silent conversation about your sudden terseness and the ways they might be able to help. 

~

Later that night, the three of you sat around the apartment, earlier tension forgotten. Your back rested against Diego's shins from your seat on the floor, head falling on his knees as you threw it back in laughter from some story Klaus was telling about when they were children and he and Diego had started some sort of prank war with Ben (secretly supported by Five or Vanya or maybe both, Diego had said he suspected). It made you happy to hear about the good times, that they had still found ways to be children despite their harsh upbringing. 

“The way he stuck to the honey in his mattress was so worth having mine taken away for a month,” Klaus concluded, laughing and oblivious to the horror widening your eyes. 

Diego’s fingers combed unconsciously through your hair, massaging your scalp. You started to feel calmer with each pass, matching your breathing to his movements. The physical contact grounded you, reminding you that, despite everything, you had both made it through and made it here. 

“It couldn’t have all been like that though...right?” you asked hesitantly. “There must have been just average days where you got to be normal kids?”

“We were allowed to have fun on Saturdays,” Diego was quick to assure you.

“For a whole half hour!” Klaus chimed in, still laughing, false cheerfulness radiating a sharp sting of bitterness. “And on special occasions, Mom made chocolate chip pancakes.” He paused, seeming to listen to something. “Yeah. I think Ben’s funeral was the last time we had any.”

“Oh.” 

You sighed, leaning as far into Diego as possible, as if he could give you strength, or you could give him back the peace he had been robbed of pretty much from birth.

“I used to envy you, growing up,” you admitted. “I thought if I had been adopted things would have been better. But really I just wouldn’t have known how bad they were. There really wasn’t a not shitty end of the deal, was there?”

Silence fell over the three of you, uncomfortable and awkward. 

“It’s okay though,” Klaus said eventually, shifting nervously and picking at his nails. “We survived it, figured out to be functioning - semi-functioning - adults. And never have to go back.”

“Right,” Diego said and you felt his body shift as he nodded at his brother. “It’s just a thing in our pasts. Everyone’s got...stuff.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I guess.”

“Hey is there any of that roast left? I’m starving,” Klaus said, standing to climb over the back of the couch and wander toward the kitchen. 

You stared after him, unsure if he was serious or just trying to lighten the mood. When you shifted your gaze to Diego questioningly, he just shrugged.

“It should be in the container with the blue lid,” he told Klaus, waving vaguely at the fridge.

~

The three of you talked (one might even have dared to call it bonded) long into the night. It was past midnight when Diego finally bowed out, practically asleep on the couch already before he stumbled off to bed. You took his spot, sitting cross-legged and facing Klaus at the other end of the couch, and the pair of you continued to talk for at least another hour.

“Y/N, you should sleep,” Klaus eventually suggested. “You look exhausted, and it’s no surprise, with everything you did today, and putting up with my brother all the time to boot.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you sighed. “I’ll go grab you some stuff to sleep and be right back.”

Quietly you slipped past the screen into the darkened bedroom area and frowned, scolding yourself internally for not doing this before Diego was in bed. He was a light sleeper and got so little of it on a regular basis, and though you could adjust the light to not wake him, it was an imperfect solution. Trying not to disturb your sleeping husband (the word still felt weird and wonderful to wrap your head around and you couldn’t help but smile), you lit your hand with a faint glow and dug through the bins beneath your bed to find your spare bedding. 

“You really don't have to worry about it, Y/N,” Klaus whispered, having followed you to the doorway, trying to wave off your efforts. “The couch alone is better than I've had lately. I can just use my coat as a blanket.”

“Absolutely not,” you hissed back determinedly. “You are a guest in my home. I want you to be comfortable, not just 'good enough.'”

He opened his mouth to protest and you held up a finger warningly. 

“Klaus, be smarter than Diego, and know that you can’t argue with me and win. Especially not over something as simple as me finding the spare bedding.”

His mouth shut with a dramatic popping sound that made you tense as Diego stirred in the bed.

“Go wait in the living room before you wake him up,” you asked, “please? He’s tired enough as it is most days.”

You felt more than saw Klaus’s eyes as he studied you for a moment before nodding and, shockingly, doing as he was told. A few minutes later, you emerged once more, handing Klaus a pile of bedding. 

“Blanket, light sheet, pillow,” you said, patting the pile. “I can grab another blanket if you need, if this won’t be warm enough. I have like a hundred of them.”

“No, this will be fine,” he said sincerely. “I sleep warm anyway. I think it’s the nightmares. Or the drugs.”

“Riiight. Are you sure you’re good? You don’t need anything else? Glass of water? More food? Cup of tea?”

He laughed, reaching out to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Relax, Y/N. I appreciate it, but I’m fine. If I need a drink, I’ll raid the kitchen later. I have everything I need. More than I deserve.”

“That’s not--” he put a finger to your lips dramatically, stopping you short as you squinted in confusion at him, going cross-eyed to try and look at the offending digit.

“Don’t try to argue it. It’s a lifetime of a feeling. But I appreciate you trying. And everything you’ve done, then and now.”

You cocked your head softly. “You know, that offer to kick your father remains on the table.”

He grinned.

“But maybe we should table that discussion for tomorrow, it’s getting late. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Actually, I’ll be gone then,” Klaus said in a tone clearly meant to be reassuring. “Before you wake up, if my brother’s smart enough to take a day off or learn that there’s no reason in general to get up with the crack of dawn. Especially with a beautiful woman in his bed.” He shot you an exaggerated wink.

You rolled your eyes fondly. “You don’t have to, Klaus. You can stay for a while. Days, weeks, whatever.”

“You’re sweet. But you don’t really want me around.”

“Of course I do,” you insisted, frowning at how casually he said such a thing. “We do. You’re family.”

“I don’t think anyone with the last name of Hargreeves really knows what that means.”

“Actually, I took your brother’s name when we got married so…” you shrugged.

Klaus laughed and you smiled. 

“I’m serious though,” you pushed. “Diego will never admit it because he’s stubborn and dumb, but he cares about you, and worries. And I think he misses you.”

Suddenly, Klaus’s long arms were wrapped around you, hugging you fiercely. There were tears in his voice when he next spoke. 

“Thank you, Y/N. That means...a lot. And hey, take care of him, will you? He’s gonna get himself killed otherwise.”

“Of course I will, Klaus,” you said, hugging him back. “I do kinda love him.”

The pair of you pulled away to share a smile, and somewhere deep inside, you felt the stirrings of your ancient friendship awakening from hibernation. After a moment, you shook yourself.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get some sleep. And if you happen to stick around, I’ll make pancakes in the morning. See if I can’t scrounge up some chocolate chips?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Y/N. I’ll think about it.”

You chuckled, before flicking off most (leaving the one above the sink to help ease his fear of the dark) of the lights. “Goodnight, Klaus.”

#Light Fingers #canonical Christmas special #sibling and sibling in law bonding #twas the night after Christmas and all through the apartment...these idiots were having just as bad sleep habits as me #Diego Hargreeves x Reader #The Umbrella Academy fic #I have been trying to figure out how to incorporate the idea that the reader and Klaus were old friends for ages #and since I decided to make the special canon #I took the presented opportunity to shoehorn it in

[mccnyoongi]

buttercup ⇢ pt one

⇢ pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut + slight angst

⇢ au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope

⇢ word count: 6k+

⇢ warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongi’s hands because who doesn’t, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.

⇢ synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely aren’t falling in love with him.

⇢ author’s note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and it’s definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx

If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, you’d find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair you’ve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate. 

But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldn’t be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.

You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongi’s were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. He’s always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You aren’t, but you’re pretty good at pretending.

Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didn’t. You figured, hey,  you’re young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor. 

Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but he’s also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And you’re pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.

“I can’t believe you’ve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and haven’t divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-” Jimin’s voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.

“Keep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.”

“Don’t change the subject,” You can’t say you’re surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed ‘disaster bisexual,’ Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman. 

He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and… most people you know. Even if they weren’t at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.

“We don’t keep anything from each other, Y/N,” He’s whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. “I even told you about that time I puked on Namjoon’s dick in our second year!”

“Mmm, and I wish you hadn’t told me, Minnie-” The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. “‘Sides, I didn’t figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-”

“His dick, you mean.”

“Because it’s not like we’re getting married,” You carefully ignore him, a useful habit you’ve picked up three years into being his friend. “Just sex, remember?”

“So fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeon’s cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-” You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no you’re an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention he’s got a giant mouth that couldn’t keep a secret even if it killed him.

“Jesus you could’ve picked any other example-” You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think you’d have learned by now. “I’m sorry, okay? You big baby.”

“Hey, you’re on thin ice,” He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when you’re only half a medium coffee in. “And how do you expect me to do that, Park.”

“Dick details, fucking obviously,” He says it like you’re a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. “Well details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if you’ve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.”

“I’m not giving you measurements, Jimin, I’ve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just ‘cause you do.”

“Okay, vanilla bitch. You’re lucky I already know he’s got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.”

“Then why’d you even ask?”

“To see if you’d tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.”

“I may be a college student but you’re gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,” You roll your eyes playfully- there’s no real threat in his words, there never is.

“You’re right, I’m sure you’d much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?”

                    ..............................................................................

Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you weren’t so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But you’re stronger than that- except for when you’re not. 

Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, you’re thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you can’t roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week you’ve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongi’s torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.

The weed would help, you’d told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated what’re u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. 

“Alright, dove,” He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names don’t tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know… gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive. 

He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where he’s uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how you’re looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. He’s used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though it’s considerably less common for a sober you.

“Dove?” Nothing. “Y/N?” It’s the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention.  You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know you’ve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. “You need to stop worrying so much, dove.”

“That’s what the weed is for, Yoongs.”

“The weed? You’re just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?” His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs “Fine. Just here to sesh. C’mere then.”

You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesn’t mean it to be. He’s almost always tantalizing to you.

“Don’t be grumpy. You invited me over,” Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.

“Well, technically,” He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. “I invited the best pussy on campus over.” You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.

“Yoongi-” You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. “Don’t be an asshole, you asshole.” He grins despite the insult like he’d expected it. Or he’s revelling in it.

“You know I’m just fucking around, angel,” His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. “Tryna chill you out. I can tell when you’re all strung out. I know how you,” He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. “Tick.” 

He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When he’s not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.

He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful he’s too distracted to notice since he’d probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.

A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and you’re feeling substantially... floaty. You’ve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpart’s. What’s left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.

Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. You’ve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy. 

Which is why you can’t help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones you’re so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Bet you’re extra sensitive right now, huh petal?” He doesn’t have to bet because he knows it’s true, knows how needy you get when you’ve smoked. And he loves it- it’s why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.

“Fuck off,” You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs. 

“Be nice,” His words are still jovial, but there’s a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.

“I am nice, you’re just a dick,” You pout- childish, but you can’t quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided it’s enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. It’s certainly not the harshest hit you’ve received from him, it’s more playful than anything, but it’s enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.

His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high he’s in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that you’ve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.

“I told you, I know how you tick,” He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. “Which means I know you like it when I’m mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,” The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. “And- and I know you’re probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.”

It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties. 

“Aren’t you?” His tone doesn’t leave room for playfulness anymore, and you’re nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to bask in the praise before he’s leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. He’s domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist. 

Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.

He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that you’re properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, it’s with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. He’s still smirking.

“Gonna fuck you so good petal,” Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks. 

Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didn’t fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess. 

Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think you’d ever been. how you’d brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. He’d immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.

Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).

“Y-yoongi-” You’re trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast it’ll get him to fuck you faster. “C’mon, just fuck me already.”

“So demanding for such a needy bitch,” He has you squirming on his lap and you don’t know why you thought you had any power over him left. “Have you forgotten your place? Can’t think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?”

You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when you’re met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. “Yeah, yeah Yoongi ‘m sorry, just need it.”

“I know, baby, I know, you can’t even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,” You can’t decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way he’s got you another pair of panties.

“Need you to fix it, Yoongs,” All pride is out the window when he’s got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.

“I will,” He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. “Now fucking get up,” He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.

You’re in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isn’t far behind. Soon you’re clad only in your panties while he’s still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.

He doesn’t make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.

“God, you’re fucking dripping,” He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. “All this from almost nothing, huh? You’re such a fucking slut for me, shit.” He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you weren’t facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you weren’t distracted by the hand that isn’t on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.

He smirks when he notices what’s grabbed your attention, knowing you’re only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. “Is this what you want? Hm?”

“Ye-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,” Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.

“And you’ll fucking get it, dove,” The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting. 

You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt. 

“Yoongi-” You’re whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.

And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and you’re whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.

“Be fucking patient,” He hisses out, but at least he’s finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hold you down just like this so you can’t even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,” His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. “And then I’ll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so you’ll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.” At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“Shit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-” You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you don’t know why. “I’ll be good, okay? ‘M your good girl, I am, promise, I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume he’s happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit. 

It’s too much, but it’s not nearly enough. It’s when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.

Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. “Yoongi- gonna come-” You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.

You know that he wouldn’t be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. “Yeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.” 

When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you can’t help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbour’s delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongi’s name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him. 

“Good fucking girl,” The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head weren’t a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but you’re too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.

Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. “Yoongi,” You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.

“Hm,” He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of what’s to come. “What, is my babygirl still needy?” 

The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you don’t even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. “Such a greedy, desperate girl, won’t be happy ‘til you’re stuffed full of my fat cock,” His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you don’t have to look to know you’re leaving a stain on his favourite jeans.  If you’re unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- he’ll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture. 

But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he can’t wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor blades’ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.

Which is why you don’t doubt him for a second when he’s murmuring things about how he’s ‘gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,’ and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of ‘I knows’ and ‘pleases’ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. It’s wonderfully overwhelming and he’s not even fucking you yet.

You can’t even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. You’ve never been one to describe guys’ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, you’re not blind. But Yoongi’s dick is gorgeous. It’s not the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t have to be, not when it’s girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.

He’s pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and you’re back to straddling him, and you don’t complain because you know he’s tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.

“Need you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,” And you’d have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.

“Need it too, Yoongs,” You don’t know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. “Can’t think of anything else.”

“I know,” He’s rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands weren’t heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldn’t a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. “So pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet, huh?”

You nod frantically, and you can’t even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending ‘awe’ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. “Careful, slut, or you won’t be coming for the next week-”

“Please, Yoongi-” You don’t let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay just please-”

You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. “Shit, god, you’re always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.”

I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but you’re sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what you’re feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock you’ve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and it’s all Yoongi’s dick. 

“Fucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,” He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And it’s with the satisfaction you get knowing he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.

With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm. 

It’s not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. It’s intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.

All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe. 

Yoongi’s words are swirling around in your head, though you’re not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’re a good girl and it’s all another instrument in your downfall. You’ve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and you’re just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.

“Tell me you’re fucking close, baby, c’mon,” This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but you’re still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. “Gonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.”

And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, you’re gone. It’s considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you don’t mind and you know Yoongi doesn’t. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.

And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. He’s grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how he’s filling you up, just like you’re meant to be that you can just barely hear.

Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you don’t know when you’ve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit you’ve ever taken off of one of his blunts.

“Shit, buttercup,” He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where you’ve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. “I don’t know how we’re gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.” Mood killer.

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.”

You pull back from the spot you wish he’d just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He can’t find the sight of you… adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable. 

At that moment he’s glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.

You don’t know what time it is, just that it’s late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep you’ve given up in lieu of Yoongi’s pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you can’t miss, but that’s for future you to worry about. For now, it’s time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.

                     ..............................................................................

Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because you’re sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and it’s all Yoongi’s fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a ‘little bitch boy’ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasn’t responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.

But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous ‘I got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didn’t so I’m better than you look.’ You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.

And now you’re in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didn’t have time to cover up.

When your phone pings you assume it’s Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But it’s not. It’s Yoongi- well, it’s what you have Yoongi’s number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over… You’re surprised he’s awake, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have shit to do until the afternoon. 

You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah it’s a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and you’d previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year. 

Yoongi isn’t a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, he’s the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. He’s the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what he’s gonna do next.

[9:23 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: you could have woken me you know dummy

[9:24 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: subways are gross in the morning

[9:25 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: i could have u know, driven u…

[9:26 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: cant really say no to u buttercup.

You don’t know why you’re heart’s beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.

#bts smut #btswritingcafe #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #buttercup #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts writing #def not my best work but u know JKFDHKJFHS

[mylovelyfandoms]

Chan’s Backstory

The Symbol of the Raindrop

Basic Information

A/N: I read over Hansol’s Backstory and I realized I accidentally wrote that they spoke English so sorry about that...

Warnings: The word ‘condom,’ teenage pregnancy, abandonment, bullying, guilt, and I think that’s it??

(GIF not mine)

- It all started with a young couple

- It was the first day of summer for their school, so they went to a friend’s party in celebration of their freedom 

- Everything was perfect

- But then, one shot too many and a three year old condom later, the girl started to feel off

- For a couple of days, it was just a feeling in her chest

- But then, she started throwing up at routine times in the morning

- She started to feeling tired and fatigued even when she wasn’t doing anything

- The girl told her boyfriend, but he just brushed it off

- But she was still suspicious

- So she went to the local pharmacy and bought the one stick that would determine the rest of her life just by peeing on it

- And there was a plus sign

- Once she told her boyfriend, the young couple agreed to run away together, terrified of what their parents would do if they found out

- So they took all the money they could from their savings and just started driving

- They drove all around the land of the unaffected and ended up a couple of towns down where no one knew who they were

- They had new lives

- And nine months later, the girl went into labor

- The two went to the local doctors and prepared for a natural birth

- But the girl spiked a fever of 40 Celsius

- So they rushed her to the operating room and started on a C-section

- When they finally managed to cut her open and take her baby boy out, they nearly dropped him back in

- The baby’s skin was burning like he was on fire

- So he must have caught her fever

- It wasn’t exactly the only diagnosis they had for this baby, but it was definitely the one they hoped was true

- The young couple were lucky enough to stumble into a hospital that was accepting of the affected

- They kept him in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) for a couple of days to keep an eye on him

- And a week later, his temperature was back down to a normal baby’s and they were able to take him home

- They named their baby ‘Chan’ and loved him to bits and pieces 

- They had a nursery for him with dinosaur wallpapers and stuffed animals

- Chan’s dad was a little obsessed with dinosaurs 

- The three of them were a happy little family for a good year until their parents found them

- Chan’s grandparents were furious

- They were disgusted with the baby and forced the three of them to go home

- And once they did, there was a lot of arguing

- The adults were trying to drill it into the young couple that there was a possibility that Chan could be an affected and wanted to bring him to get tested

- But Chan’s parents refused

- They were a part of the younger generation and detested the way that the adults outcasted the affected

- They wanted to keep Chan safe no matter what

- But with some horrible luck, Chan started to cry and scream at all of the arguing

- When Chan’s mother walked up to him in an attempt to calm him down, he swung his hand, his body glowing orange as a flame hit his mother’s face

- She cried out and fell to the floor, but that only made Chan cry even harder

- Chan’s father immediately ran to his girlfriend’s side and tried to soothe her

- Chan’s father went with his girlfriend and her family to the hospital, leaving his son with his own parents

- He trusted that they wouldn’t do anything, but boy was he wrong

- Chan’s grandparents wrapped him in a blanket, placed him in a basket, and made their way to the soldier base

- They set him down in front and banged on the doors, turning around and left him behind

- Upon seeing him, the soldiers brought Chan in to start testing him in ways they should never do to a baby

- Once they learned Chan was able to manipulate fire, he was sent to the closest facility to that base

- The other affected that were watching the newcomers were horrified when they saw a baby in the group of new kids

- And since he was brought in so young, he couldn’t work yet

- So he grew up in a cell

- He was basically adopted by the oldest ones in his cell since none of the soldiers were going to take care of him

- But he was still too young to understand anything that was happening

- He barely even understood what was going on when he turned three and all of his caretakers were taken away

- All he knew was that he was left behindagain

- Two year later, he was brought into the testing room again

- Chan was confused to say the least when he wasn’t able to make fire like he had been before

- And then he was absolutely bewildered when he was able to lift a piece of the floor up just by stomping

- He was then brought into the next room where they held him down and lifted his shirt, drawing a tattoo at his lower abdomen

- He didn’t even scream or struggle

- He was used to the pain already at this point

- Almost right after, he was thrown into work

- He was herded into the rest of the ‘E Raindrops’ as the soldiers called them

- There were a couple of people he recognized from his cell so he tried to go up and talk to them

- But then they were taken away by the soldiers for socializing when they weren’t supposed to

- That was the first time Chan was beat

- From then on, the rest of the affected avoided Chan

- They didn’t want to get beat just by talking to him

- Even if that wasn’t the case

- But that never stopped Chan

- He kept trying to talk to people around him in the cells or during mealtime

- Never at work anymore...he learned his lesson

- But his reputation preceded him so people either snapped at him to leave them alone or just ignored him

- Some kids eventually started to mess with him for the fun of it

- They knocked his food tray out of his hands, knowing that he would either have to eat it off the filthy floor or starve

- They knocked him over when he was focusing on his work

- They even beat him when they were out in the courtyard

- And of course the bullies never had to worry about the soldiers because they were probably just watching with amusement

- So eventually, Chan just stopped talking to people

- He stopped going up to them and asking if they wanted to sit together at meal time

- He just sat quietly and didn’t even speak up when the bullies messed with him

- So one day, the same group of bullies were doing what they usually did

- They were trying to corner Chan since it would be easier to beat up the poor kid

- When they were barely a foot away, the biggest bully lifted his arm, ready to pummel the younger boy

- But then, as if it were an angel sent down to protect him, someone landed right in between the bullies and Chan

- Chan was honestly confused as to where this boy came from, but he pushed the feeling away and was just grateful

- There was a strange look on the boy’s face, Chan observed

- The boy was facing the left, staring straight at the building in front of him with confusion before looking back down at the strange bracelet on his hand that was shaking 

- The bully’s fist connected with the strange boy’s arm and immediately he yelled out and retracted the hand as if he was just burned

- The strange boy turned to look at him as if he just noticed the bullies for the first time

- “Oh! I’m-”

- “Let’s get out of here!” The biggest bully shouted, running away with the rest of the kids following after him

- Chan stared at the boy in shock, but he never turned around to face him

- The strange boy just shrugged and turned to the right and started to run in a speed that Chan didn’t know was possible

- For the next couple of days, word spread about how Chan was protected by the strange boy 

- No one touched him

- Chan was relieved and he wanted to find the boy, just to talk to him and thank him

- However, Chan didn’t even know where to start

- So for the next week, he sat down by himself like he usually did, but this time, there was no fear that someone was about to take his food

- But one day, he was sitting alone in his usual spot when a group of older elementals that he had never seen before approached him

- “Get lost, kid. We’re going to sit here.” 

- “But why do I have to go?”

- The older elemental scoffed. “Because we don’t want to sit with some brat. Now scram.” 

- Chan knew better than to oppose anyone

- People had just stopped bullying him

- So, he picked up his tray and started to walk around the dining hall, looking for an empty place to sit

- When he finally approached the end of the elementals table, Chan saw him

- The strange boy

- He was sitting alone just like Chan had for the past couple of years

- Chan took a breath, suddenly feeling nervous about meeting his saviour

- “Hi, can I sit with you?”

- The strange boy snapped his head up and stared at Chan for an uncomfortably long time

- His expression was confused, so that’s when it dawned on Chan

- ‘He doesn’t know who I am’

- So quickly, he had to make up a reason as to why he needed to sit with the boy

-  “The older elementals won’t let me sit near them.”

- The strange boy nodded and gestured to the empty seat in front of him with a piece of stale bread that he had been eating

- Chan’s body flooded with joy

- This strange boy was the first person to ever let him sit with them

- Trying to hide his excitement, Chan dug into the food

- He then looked back up at the strange boy when he managed to calm down a little

- “What’s your name? I’m Lee Chan.”

- Chan had a couple of memories from his life on the outside

- The elementals that took care of him had asked him what he remembered and made sure that he held onto it

- Something about ‘keeping him human’

- So Chan knew his surname 

- The boy in front of him had a soft smile

- “My name is Hansol, but you can call me Vernon. It’s my middle name.”

- “Oh.”

- Chan started to think

- ‘If he can get called something other than his first name, then so can I. But what?’

- Chan smiled, a small memory from his life on the outside flashing in his mind

- “Well in that case, you can call me Dino.”

- Vernon let out a soft giggle, but Chan could tell that it wasn’t mocking like all of the bullies...it was kinder

- “Why Dino?”

- Chan brightened up

- He always loved his own thought process, but no one ever talked to him long enough for him to tell people about it

- “Because I’m an earth elemental, and the way I stomp around to manipulate the earth makes me feel like a dinosaur.”

- Vernon let out another giggle and this time, Chan joined in

- Chan talked on and on and Vernon listened with great interest, chiming in every now and then

- And that’s how their dynamic was everyday

- Chan would talk and Vernon would listen

- The few days that Vernon did feel like talking, Chan made sure to pay extra attention, just so his new friend felt comfortable with him and didn’t leave

- So Chan finally had a new friend

- But unfortunately for him, the bullies picked up on the fact that Vernon was harmless 

- So they started to pick on Chan again

- But Chan would never admit it

- He just brushed off the bruises and cuts as beatings from the soldiers

- One day, Chan and Vernon were sitting at their spot at the bench as per usual 

- Chan was talking about his day, making sure to leave out the part where he was shoved to the floor by bullies of course, when someone took a seat next to Vernon

- Chan stopped mid-sentence, looking at the taller boy who had a bright smile on his face

- He offered a hand to Vernon, and Chan immediately felt a jolt of jealousy

- Vernon was his friend, why couldn’t he find another one? 

- “I never properly introduced myself. My name is Mingyu.” 

- Chan’s heart dropped a little when Vernon took Mingyu’s hand and shook it

- Suddenly, the feeling of being left behindthat was once a memory came flooding back to him

- Mingyu then turned to Chan with the same bright smile and offered him a hand

- “What’s your name?”

- Chan raised an eyebrow at the hand and hesitantly took it

- “Dino.” 

- “That’s so cool! Did you know that some dinosaur tails were over 45 feet long? That’s like at least five of me!” 

- Chan forced a smile on his face

- The only connection he had with the outside was his small knowledge of dinosaurs

- He didn’t even know where he knew it from, but he did

- “Yes. I did.” 

- Eventually, Mingyu just became a part of his life whether he wanted him to or not

- Chan remained civil with Mingyu because he didn’t seem like he was trying to take Vernon away, but he could never be too cautious 

- There were times where Mingyu wasn’t around

- Sometimes he had gotten in trouble again for being so clumsy

- Other times he was somewhere else in the dining hall, being the social butterfly Chan wished he was

- The fact that Mingyu was effortlessly able to make friends just made Chan like him less

- But still, when Mingyu was away, the atmosphere felt weird

- It was like there was something missing from them

- But Chan just ignored the feeling 

- He didn’t like Mingyu and he was pretty sure that nothing he did would ever make Chan like him

- Especially now as Mingyu stood before the two with his hands on another boy’s shoulders

- Another boy just meant it was more likely that they would take his friend away

- And taking his friend away meant that he didn’t have safe place to go to after the soldiers beat him or when the bullies messed with him

-  “Hey guys! This is my new friend, Junhui. He just got transferred into here from Facility C!”

- Chan glared holes into the side of Mingyu’s head, but the tall boy didn’t notice

-  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Vernon, that’s Dino.”

- Chan whipped his head over to his friend and saw Vernon smiling at the new boy, bringing a pout to Chan’s lips

- The new boy didn’t quite seem to notice, instead taking a seat next to Chan while Mingyu took one next to Vernon

- “You can call me Jun.”

- Chan’s anger towards Jun immediately started to fade away once the boy started to talk

- Jun was probably one of the funniest people Chan had ever met

- There was just something about the way that Jun told a story that just hooked Chan on 

- So, maybe Jun wasn’t so bad

- But Chan was still and would probably be forever cautious of Mingyu

- As time went by, the group only grew

- First it was Jun’s friend, The8

- Chan didn’t know much about him, just that he stayed in the same cell as him

- He had never talked to the boy until Jun introduced him to everyone, but he knew that The8 was one of the scariest elementals in the facility

- Chan didn’t really think that The8 liked him, but then he started to notice how Chan’s bullies started to stay away 

- So maybe The8 wasn’t that bad

- And then Mingyu’s friend, Wonwoo came along

- Wonwoo wasn’t an elemental, so Chan was all the more suspicious of him

- Why would a healer want to be friends with a group of elementals?

- But over time, Chan learned to get along with Wonwoo

- He was still being too stubborn to get along with Mingyu

- Everything was routine for a while

- Chan would wake up, go to work, meet up with his friends at meal time, go back to work, and back to the cells

- Sure there were some instances where one of them (including Chan) got in trouble, but other than that it was normal for Chan

- But one night, Chan was woken up by a blaring alarm

- Immediately, he went to find The8

- These kinds of things never happened before, but that just made it all the more scary

- But of course, Chan would never admit that he was scared

- “The8!” Chan called once he saw his friend

- “Hey, stick by me, it’s alright,” The8 replied, wrapping a protective arm around Chan, who didn’t make any move to push it off

- “Everyone out!” The soldiers bellowed

- If The8 noticed the way Chan flinched, he didn’t say anything. And Chan was grateful for that

- When they were outside, Chan looked around and saw the affected from other cells piling out as well

- But among them, there was a thick cloud of smoke that came from a tree that was lit on fire

- Chan whipped his head to look at The8, but The8 was staring at the tree in horror

- But Chan didn’t exactly know why

- The soldiers started shouting for the affected to stay in groups according to their cells 

- The specific soldiers for each cell herded them together and publicly beat the ones they didn’t recognize, even if they were in the right place

- “’F’ Raindrops! Gather around here!” 

- Chan turned to look at The8 

- The8 grabbed Chan by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes with concern

- “Stay right here, got it? I’ll be back soon.” 

- Chan nodded silently with a lump in his throat

- With the soldiers, he wasn’t sure if that would be true

- Chan kept his eyes on the tree as the water elementals started to put it out

- “Looks like someone’s a scaredy cat,” A heckling voice called from behind Chan

- Chan ignored the bullies, knowing they wouldn’t do anything because of their fear of The8

- So he kept his gaze up at the tree

- “Dino”

- Chan’s gaze snapped down and he saw Vernon jogging towards him

- “What’s everyone doing out?” 

- Chan furrowed his eyebrows together

- Did he not get called out?

- “The soldiers wanted to keep us all in one place while they questioned the fire elementals I think.” 

- “Why? They won’t care if we burn.” 

- Chan shrugged, “I think it’s because if we all die they can’t test on us or something.” 

- Once the elementals were sent back to their cells, it was near morning

- So there really was no point in going back to sleep

- Instead, Chan paced the room as he waited for The8 to return

- If he returned

- And much to Chan’s relief, he did

- “What happened? Are you okay?”

- The8 chuckled softly and ruffled Chan’s hair

- “Yeah, I’m fine. They just interrogated me in front of a senser to see if I was the one that set the tree on fire.”

- “Do you think it was an elemental?” 

- The8 looked off to the side

- “I don’t think so.”

- The facility was on complete lockdown for the next couple of months

- So that meant they weren’t allowed to leave their cells for anything

- Not even meal time

 - Chan didn’t know why until he listened in on the soldiers’ conversations one day

- “...seventeen or something like that.”

- “So has anyone found them yet?”

- “No not yet. We keep getting close but right when we think we got them, they’re gone.”

- “How many have they gotten out?”

- “I think it was the three of them, four more stars, and two clouds.”

- “Clouds? How did they get the clouds out from isolation?”

- “No clue. These affected are getting smarter and smarter.”

- Chan immediately rushed over to where The8 was laying and told him everything

- The8 didn’t seem to believe him, but he let Chan talk about it whenever he heard new information

- Eventually, when lockdown was over but security was heavier than ever and it just seemed to be getting worse

- Wonwoo wasn’t allowed to sit with them anymore, so it was just the five elementals

- And Chan chattered excitedly about the group of escapees called ‘seventeen’ 

- It had become the main topic for the affected for a while

- Vernon and The8 didn’t believe it, but Mingyu and Jun did

- But that didn’t stop Chan from talking about it

- One day, Chan met up with the other elementals as he usually did

- Jun, The8, and Vernon were there, but Wonwoo and Mingyu weren’t

- It wasn’t rare for one of the elementals to be missing, but for Wonwoo it was just strange

- As Chan sat down and ate his food, Mingyu came sprinting towards them

-  “Guys! Wonwoo was...I just...I saw...”

- “Words, Gyu, words!”

- “Wonwoo escaped. He’s gone.”

- “What do you mean gone?”

- Mingyu sat down in his seat next to Vernon, looking at the rest of the group with wide eyes

- “As in he ran off with these...these bandits or something! And I could have sworn I saw the sun. You know, the one that watched over us every now and then? The scary one?”

- Chan smiled

- So it was true after all

- And someone he knew, someone he was friends with, managed to get out

- Chan was beaming with pride

- Even if it wasn’t him that had escaped, he was happy that his friend was able to experience the freedom he would never get

- A week passed and everything was as normal as it could be

- Chan was just talking to his friends about something that happened during work when the doors slammed open with a loud bang

- Two shoulders stormed in with rifles in hand, pointing them around the room and shouting at everyone to get down

- It wasn’t like soldiers never carried around rifles, but it was just unsettling that two of them would run in with them

- As everyone sank to the floor, Chan followed the suit, trying not to show his fear

- Mingyu put a hand on Chan’s back, but that only made him spiteful rather than comforted

- There was a ear shattering scream that made Chan flinch, only for Mingyu to hold him tighter

- But Chan just ignored the boy, digging his face into the floor

- “Vernon”

- Chan stiffened up, cursing whoever had just called for his friend

- Who would talk at a time like this?

-  “Vernon it’s me!”

- Chan looked up once he realized that the voice was coming from above them

- There was a boy standing on top of the benches, looking down at Vernon

- “Seungkwan?” Vernon asked, having Chan whip his head to him

- Vernon did mention making a friend before

-  “Get up, we’re busting you and your friends out of here.”

- At the news, Chan scrambled to his feet followed by the rest of their group

- “They’re coming!” One of the soldiers at the door shouted at the boy, Seungkwan

-  “Okay, we gotta go, like, now.”

- Seungkwan turned and started running on the bench so none of the affected on the floor would get in his way

- Vernon jumped on the bench and followed after him

- Chan started to climb onto the bench and Mingyu started to help him onto it

- There was a small part of Chan that got annoyed with Mingyu, but he just pushed the feeling down and focused on getting out

- When the group got to the door, they were immediately met with a large army of soldiers running towards them

- “Cover your ears!” Seungkwan shouted and Chan immediately brought his hands to the side of his head

- Chan watched as a strange kind of ripple in the air shot at the soldiers, having them pause in their step, bring their hands to their ears for a moment, and keep running

-  “I don’t get it, that was supposed to mess with their earpieces!” Seungkwan exclaimed

- With a small sense of urgency, Chan pushed past Seungkwan.

- Getting into a stance with his feet shoulder width apart and knees bent, Chan stomped one foot on the floor like he had done many times before and felt around for the exact spot in the earth that he wanted to move

- He lifted his arm up and saw a large block from the floor follow

- Then, he pushed his hands out, having the block slide towards the middle of the crowd of soldiers and push them back

- When Chan was satisfied with the clearing of soldiers, Vernon stepped up next to him

- Chan watched as Vernon took a deep breath before pushing his hands towards the soldiers

- The sides of his head started to glow an icy blue, almost white

- Though Chan couldn’t see anything different in the air, he heard the whistling of wind and saw the soldiers flying backwards

- “Come on!” Seungkwan shouted before running to the soldiers towards the gate

- As they ran through the crowd of soldiers, Chan watched from behind as The8′s body started to glow as used his fire manipulation to keep the soldiers back

- When the group was out of the crowd, they started to run as fast as they can

- But for Chan, that wasn’t very fast

- He knew that he had to keep going as they wove through the facility, but he was an earth elemental...something about them were just kind of slow

- Chan was starting to fall behind as they approached the closed gates 

- Seungkwan and Vernon were far ahead with Jun and The8 close behind

- Chan was a good three feet away from the rest of the group and he couldn’t seem to close the gap

- Mingyu was next to him, but Chan knew deep down that Mingyu could go faster than he was going at the moment

- “I’m not going to make it...I’m not going to make it,” Chan muttered to himself as he glanced over his shoulder to see the soldiers less than a foot behind him, reaching out to grab his arm

- Before he could say anything, Mingyu grabbed his wrist and roughly yanked him forward

- Chan felt two hands on his back pushing him forward, making him stumble into step with The8 and Jun

- “Mingyu! No!” Chan cried as he looked back to see the soldiers pulling Mingyu towards them, pushing him to the floor and surrounding him

- “What happened?” Vernon demanded, having Chan turn his head back to the front

- “He pushed me forward!” 

- “We’ll come back for him!” Seungkwan shouted breathlessly

- Chan sent another glance back, heart dropping when he saw Mingyu’s limp body getting dragged away

- His mind was so clouded with guilt that he barely registered the floor rumbling from under him

- He only came back to reality when a large branch started to reach down from the top of the wall

- “Wonwoo!” Vernon exclaimed, having Chan look up and smile at the familiar face

-  “Hurry! They’re right behind you!”

- Vernon ran to the back of the crowd helping everyone onto the branch

- The small gesture made Chan’s heart hurt since Mingyu had done the same thing when he helped everyone onto the branch

- Chan had been too stubborn to realize that Mingyu was actually a good friend

- But now it was too late

- “Vernon get on!” Seungkwan shouted, snapping Chan out of his pity party to see the branch rising until it horizontal 

- “He can jump,” Jun informed Seungkwan 

- The group on the branch started to walk onto the wall

- Wonwoo’s hands were glowing green as he brought the branch back down to the other side of the wall, burying it back in the ground

- There were a couple more people that Chan didn’t recognize, but from the way they weren’t trying to attack them, Chan knew they were on their side

- Wonwoo started to look at the group with wide eyes, his posture growing more and more frantic

- Chan knew exactly what Wonwoo was going to ask, and he felt horrible for it

-  “Where’s Mingyu?”

- Chan knew that Wonwoo and Mingyu were close, closer than Mingyu was with anyone else in the group

- It felt like he was telling a loved one about their dead relative

- But after all, it was like that wasn’t it? Getting caught only meant the worst...

- “I was... I was falling behind so he...he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward so that the soldiers would get him instead of me.”

- Chan looked down in shame

- He knew that it wasn’t his fault that Mingyu sacrificed himself, but it was his fault that he didn’t let Mingyu know how much of a good friend he was 

- “What?” Wonwoo ran past Chan, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up

-  Chan heard Wonwoo shout desperately, begging to go back for him

- The fact that Wonwoo was never the type to show emotion broke him

-  “We have to go now” One of the unfamiliar boys said, ushering Chan towards the edge of the wall where another boy dropped a rope and tied it to a bar

- “Come on, Dino. You first,” Jun said, helping Chan climb over the bars and grab onto the rope

- Once everyone was on the floor, they ran again

- Chan couldn’t shake his thoughts away from Mingyu

- The guilt only got worse as they arrived at some sort of hidden campsite

- Mingyu would have loved this...

- “Welcome to our camp,” One of the rescuers said as he pulled on a glove. “My name is S. Coups and I’m the leader of our clan, ‘Seventeen.’”

- “Hey,” Jun said in a low tone as he walked up to stand next to Chan

- Chan didn’t look up. He didn’t want to meet his eyes after what he did

- “What happened to Mingyu wasn’t your fault.”

- Despite his friend’s words, Chan couldn’t shake the feeling

- So, after S. Coups explained to them that they would be going on missions, Chan immediately went to the side of the camp to train

- Chan was going to make sure that no one was left behind again

#lee chan #dino #dino seventeen #seventeen #lee chan seventeen #chan seventeen #lee chan x reader #dino x reader #kpop #seventeen kpop #lee chan kpop #chan kpop #chwe hansol #vernon #jeon wonwoo #kim mingyu #mingyu #wonwoo #meanie #wen junhui #jun #xu minghao #minghao #the8 #seventeen dystopian au #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #seventeen x reader

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Undead and Well Read || Morgan & Leah

Timing: Current 

Parties: @mor-beck-more-problems & @phoenixleah

Summary: Having fun isn’t hard when you’ve got a library card! 

Warnings: none!

It had been a terrible few weeks for Morgan. She couldn’t remember when, exactly, it had started, but the woman’s voice in her head was definitely making matters much worse. There was irony, of course, in finally being tired, even sleepy. Three months of death had passed with almost complete, awful consciousness. It would be nice, after everything, to have one six hour zonk-out in Deirdre’s arms to fill her head with nothing but black. Not forever, not for a day, just...six hours in bed to scrub out all the weird shit she was seeing. She dragged herself into the library, almost shambling with the weight of death she couldn’t erase from her mind, and the absence of the life that, apparently, she was never going to have in White Crest no matter what she did. But three months dead and Morgan still didn’t know hot to accept all of this. What acceptance and moving on and being actually okay and not just zombing through functionality was really supposed to look like. All the more reason, she guessed, for finally following up on her plans with Leah.

I deserve to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.

Morgan grimaced and shouldered her way into the library. Intrusive thoughts were hard enough when they were her own. For the first time in her existence, dead or not, Morgan didn’t stop to smell the stacks and run her fingers over the protective wrap over the covers. She went straight to the front desk and slumped onto the counter as soon as it was her turn. “Hey, yeah, I um...called ahead. Leah’s supposed to help me out with uh...a research project I’m doing. Are you maybe please possibly Leah?”

Summer was in its prime.  And with the yearly (spooky) carnival now long gone, residents of White Crest were once again looking for somewhere to entertain themselves and cool off. Leah couldn’t understand why, then,  the library wasn’t crowded beyond belief at this point.  It was cool, it was quiet, it was entertaining… what more could people need?  Normally, she wouldn’t mind the library being slow- less people coming in and out meant more time to add to the archives, and boy did she have a lot to add lately. Between the cursed game with Skylar and her new fae friend’s height problem, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been so backed up since she became a Scribe.  But still, the library staying afloat was the only thing keeping her family’s archives together and intact, thanks to the secret basement.  She couldn’t imagine years of research wasted just because White Cresters would rather go to some lake than read.  

She smiled at the man in front of her, thanking him for the payment of his late fee (his 4th one this year, maybe she should tell this guy to invest in a phone reminder), and watched him as he went on his way to check out more books.  Now that was a person she could relate to.  A woman she didn’t recognize came up next, and the poor thing looked positively exhausted.  She smiled at her, pulling her reading glasses to rest on the top of her head to get a better look.  I called ahead.  Leah wracked her brain to try and think of the call, and it all came at once.  The call… their conversation online.  “Morgan!” She popped out of the stool she was sitting in, turning around to rummage through the shelf behind her.  This was the girl from the internet… the new zombie who loved reading.  “You’re Morgan, right?” she asked, still rummaging.  When she was finally done, she’d pulled about six large books from the shelf, turning around and plopping them in front of Morgan.  In her excitement, she’d forgotten to confirm she was actually the woman Morgan was looking for.  She pressed her hands together, smiling.  “Yes, sorry.  I’m Leah.  You were looking for some...special books, right?”

Morgan’s head perked up at the enthusiasm from the girl. “Yes! Me Morgan! I mean, I’m Morgan! Beck. From the university, and online.” Wow, her mind meld was really getting under her skin. She could usually count on herself to act at least relatively normal in public, even in the middle or White Crest’s nonsense of the month. Despite her gracelessness, she couldn’t help but smile with relief and recognition. So this was Leah. Morgan must have seen her in passing half a dozen times or more without realizing. Even her work outfit and her reading glasses struck her as familiar. “Leah,” sighed, a smile melting over her face. “I cannot begin to express how glad I am to see you. Yes. Please, please take me to the special books. Things have only gotten weirder since we last talked and I would love for something to be easy. Or make sense. Or both.”

“I’m so glad to finally meet you”, Leah said, holding her hand out for Morgan to shake.  Normally she shied away from handshakes.  Her body temperature always made people give her a second glance, and she didn’t have time to be answering questions from people that she barely knew.  But something about Morgan’s recent confession and her coming so willingly to Leah for help made her trustworthy in Leah’s eyes.  She probably wouldn’t even question it.  “Well”, she started, indicating to the books she’d placed in front of Morgan. “These are some of them”.  She was glad she was here to help Morgan through all of this… it must be hard for someone not in the know to try and sift through what was real and what was essentially fanfiction.  “I have more set aside if you need them.  And a few that were checked out before I got to them.  Shall we go sit over there and take a look?” she asked, her head nodding over to a table in a secluded area by a window.  “Weirder?”she asked curiously, picking up half of the stack.  “Weirder how?”

Morgan took Leah’s hand gratefully, amazed that she didn’t mind inviting the chill of corpse-flesh, knowing what she was. She tried to return the kindness by taking her hand with the best care she knew how. “It feels a long time coming, huh?” She said. Am I losing my mind? Have I already lost it? Please don’t lock me up… Morgan went stiff and caughted, as if someone might hear the voice and think them rude. She picked up some of the titles and flipped through some of the chapter headings, her chest starting to tighten in spite of herself. “Are any of these..um...you know...first hand? Or, well, why don’t we take these to that table, like you said. And uh, as for weird…” She cleared her throat, trying to drown out more ruminations on love and sanity. Apparently the woman hadn’t has sex in seven years over this guy and it was all way more than she knew how to process alongside the normal chatter in her dead brain. “I know you know about how things really are around here, but this is something else. Maybe we’ll find something in these books but...uh...magic mind shares shouldn’t be a thing for the undead, right? Because I can’t carry a witchy charge anymore...because I’m, you know, d-e-a-d?”

Leah nodded with a warm smile.  It really had felt like she’d been talking to Morgan for years, when really it hadn’t been more than a few weeks.  Even before she learned about Morgan’s… undeadness, she found talking to the woman was a breeze.  “Some of them are!  Others are collections of records from Scribes”- not her own, Leah noted inwardly, though if Morgan wasn’t finding the information she was looking for, Leah would find a way to slip hers in as well. -”which is just about as close to first hand as you can get.  Scribes are known for being incredibly unbiased.” After confirming that there was someone else there to man the desk, Leah made her way to the table briskly.  She sat down as she listened to Morgan explain.  It was confusing, really, because she had never heard of anyone experiencing mind shares.  “It’s not something I’ve ever heard of… but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.  I mean, personality-wise… it’s not uncommon for you to take on a bit of someone’s personality after… their brain is ingested.”  Morgan had mentioned she was feeding ethically, but Leah didn’t want to judge if that wasn’t still the case.  “You’re just like… hearing this other person’s thoughts all the time?  Is it someone you’re close to?”

Morgan smirked ruefully at the mention of the brain. “Oh yeah, found that out the hard way by accident. He was already dead! Just, so you know. Long dead. No one was using it by the time I uh...happened upon it. And after the whole ‘holy shit this is almost as good as burgers used to be’ thing, came this weird sense of like...wanting to listen to a hockey game? And listen to A Prairie Home Companion? And play like, old people boardgames? It was weird. I called my friend sport. Harmless, but still unsettling. Not actually that big of a fan of doing that blindly again. I don’t want to get essence of asshole, you know? But this feeling is...weirder than that.” She opened the nearest book, flipping through the table of contents and the index for the good parts. There was a section on a zombie hoard that had taken over a town. Bites had spread rapidfire from one starving spawn to the next. Morgan’s stomach lurched at the idea and she picked up a different book. “This new thing is...different. I don’t even know the person I’m hearing. She--” MARRY ME PLEASE. “--Is definitely in a place. And I think I may have seen her in...dream is the only word I can think of. Except I haven’t dreamed or slept since I died. It’s not all the time, more of an eb and flow, but when it flow it’s kind of a lot.”

Leah threw up her arms, a playfully defensive stance to show Morgan that she wasn’t being judgy.  “Hey, you do what you got to do.  If I ever happen to be undead with you, then I’m allowed to judge how you eat.  Until then, I’m just a passive observer.”  She grinned at Morgan’s destination.  All of the archives her family had kept on zombies in the past were written so robotically-- professional and unbiased was basically in the job description of a scribe.  To hear Morgan talk about it so candidly and openly was refreshing.  And amusing, if she were being honest with herself. She chuckled as she answered. “It sounds unsettling!  Thank god you didn’t find someone who liked to listen to polka music, instead.  Now that sounds unsettling.”  It was interesting to watch a newcomer flip through pages that held information all about her new life.  Non-life?  She pressed her lips together, genuinely confused.  “Is it possible someone’s trying to contact you?  I don’t know much about dream visits, but if it’s the same person who’s visiting your day dreams… maybe it’s intentional?”

Morgan’s expression softened at Leah. She hadn’t met a human who she didn’t have to pacify in some capacity in...well she couldn’t quite remember when. She was honest with so few humans these days, and even some of her supernatural friends held reservations against such things as violence and people eating. Maybe she might have even shared their alarm at another time, but she wasn’t even sure of that. But Leah understood somehow. Or at least she understood that there was something beyond her. It was a wisdom that Morgan admired, even envied. Lately she felt like she barreled in with the best of intentions and came up empty. She just wanted everything to be okay and make sense now. Which, now that she thought about it, was a little on the absurd side. She had a few centuries, hopefully, to figure her shit out. What was she rushing for? Morgan smiled at Leah. “You’re pretty great, you know that? And if you do ever wind up undead with me, I’ll make sure you get the five star treatment. A regular gourmet menu of options.” She laughed along with her joke, relieved that it hadn’t made Leah uncomfortable and started flipping through the pages of another book. “Intentional magic sounds about right. I’m not sure how you would casually connect two minds together, but I don’t think the woman in my head is the one doing it. Which is even weirder because, like, who actually knows us? What gives? Are you that bored that you need to power flex on some townies? Oooh...yikes.” Morgan grimaced at another section, a rather dry account of a recorded drunk zombie. The guy had managed to do it when he attacked someone he had a grudge against coming out of a bar. Freshly drunk brains meant freshly drunk zombie. Which apparently meant...a lot more dead drunk people and a very dangerous bar scene for the month or so it took the local slayers to figure it out. She showed it to Leah. “Well I guess I really am never getting drunk for the rest of eternity,” she sighed.

Leah sat up a little straighter, scoffing off the compliment with a wave of her hand.  She always felt a bit uncomfortable accepting praise, especially from someone she didn’t know very well.  It wasn’t that she didn’t like being told she was good at something, moreso that she didn’t know how to respond when someone did.  “I’ll hold you to that!” she laughed, knowing what Morgan was saying was true.  There was something about the other woman that just seemed trustworthy to Leah, and she could tell she was the type to stick to her word.  She leaned on the table, absentmindedly flipping through another one of the books that they’d brought over for Morgan as she listened to her speak.  “Hmm.  It’s all so strange.  I mean, you’re right… if this is a spellcaster or someone like it, why put two random people who don’t know each other through this.  Maybe it’s a common enemy that you and this other woman both have?” she suggested.  It felt weird to suggest that someone as sweet as Morgan might have an enemy.  “Or someone trying to get to your girlfriend through you, even.  You mention she’s got some…” she looked around, sure that no one was close enough to them to hear.  “...special tendencies as well?”  She laughed, patting Morgan on the back comfortingly.  “Maybe you’ll find a way.  I mean...you’ve got a long life ahead of you.  And you’re in a town literally filled with other people in your state.  I find it hard to believe that no one’s gonna find a way to get zombie drunk in the next century.”

Morgan puzzled this over. “She is. Um...different. I’m promise-bound not to go into details. But I did that to myself, I should say, in case of wardens or other...problems. I haven’t actually thought of that before. I don’t think...that something like that would be possible.” The people Deirdre upset tended to be dead. And Deirdre never failed. She had been raised too well. “I don’t think so, I don’t think they’re connected either, or that the woman in my head would hurt her. Although if she does…” Morgan shivered. She would kill her for taking that kind of trouble. Or at least incapacitate her. Something had landed her in one of Regan’s freezers before. Morgan could do it again. She grimaced and turned back to the books. Deirdre didn’t want her looking for answers in death too much. She would also forgive her for killing again, probably, especially, if it involved saving the life they had together. But it was smarter not to add more weight to her back where that stupid human woman she’d killed in the ring haunted her from time to time. Or at least, not to spend too much time thinking of adding more weight. Morgan sighed, skimming contents and indexes for the zombie parts, or the parts where the zombies talked about being how they were. “Are there any zombies who actually...wrote any books? Even fiction stories, or anecdotal testimony? I mean, I didn’t even know these existed, and I really appreciate the whole not just taking inventory of ways to kill or maim or torture me. I’m just...curious, I guess.”

“Oh please, you’re under no obligation to share”, Leah assured.  As curious as she was, it wouldn’t be fair of her to expect Morgan to share the details of her girlfriends special talents when Leah herself wasn’t being very open about who and what she really was.  Besides, after talking to Morgan enough, Leah could probably figure it out on her own, anyway.  She nodded, the girlfriend revenge situation seemed to be out, then.  “It’s just so strange.  I wonder…” she blinked, a new thought crossing her mind in an instant.  “There is the possibility that this mind sharing isn’t related to your undead-ness at all, though, Morgan.  It could just be... one of those unfortunate White Crest things.”  She blinked, adjusting in her seat as she thought it over.  “Maybe you should find this girl… try to talk to her face to face to figure out what’s up.”  She smiled softly at the question, rummaging through the pile on the table.  “If there are books by hunters, they’d be burned before I’d allow them in this library”, she assured as she searched. She found three specific books she had flagged earlier with colored post-it notes, presenting them to Morgan.  “So.  These three are all written by known zombies.  This one”, she said, holding up the smaller of the three.  “Is way old, kind of dull but has a lot of good information.  These other two have a lot of tips on how to deal with everything, ethical feeding… anything that I’d assume might come up. They’re labeled as fiction, for obvious reasons, but I can assure you that these three are all legitimately written by your fellow undead.”

“Oh, Stars. No…” Morgan groaned and let her head fall on her book with exaggerated despair as soon as Leah suggested this was more White Crest nonsense. “I mean this shouldn’t be surprising, and honestly, we’re probably due for something like this. And at least it’s not something that might make me embarrass myself in public like those eyeballs popping up everywhere. But why…” Morgan gave a pitiful puff, floating a fluffy lock of hair until she ran out of air. When that was done, she pulled herself upright and put on a smile. No time to dwell, especially not when Leah was being such a big help to her. Although maybe it was just the comment about the hunters that gave her an extra reason to pick up her energy. “Probably doesn’t matter too much,” she said wryly. “Let’s take a look at these, since apparently they’re free of hunter bias. Gotta say, I’m relieved, but maybe a little surprised. Being misunderstood or not seen the way I feel I really am is what I’m used to for the most part. It uh...seems like it might be personal, so you don’t have to say, but I am curious about why you feel so strongly about them.” She turned back to the books examined the title and perused the first few pages, then flipped to the middle where there seemed to be a death scene. “Leah, these are beautiful. I mean, sad, too, I guess. But...it’s real. It’s how we really are. I’d like to take these home for a little while, if that’s okay.To get to read them properly. I could come back too, but it would just...be nice, you know?”

Leah chuckled sympathetically, squeezing Morgan’s shoulder for comfort.  As a crester, she was almost used to the wild ongoings of the town by now, but she couldn’t imagine the stress it must have brought to a newcomer like Morgan.  “God, I don’t want to think about the eyeballs again.  Thank god that’s over.  Maybe this will be...slightly more harmless?  It sounds more annoying than anything?  Regardless, you’re definitely getting a nice White Crest initiation, aren’t you?”  She let out a laugh at Morgan’s sudden uprightness.  Someone else might have thought it immoral to not allow books by hunters, by Leah wasn’t willing to take any chances.  If their only goal in life was to harm others, she couldn’t support that.  At Morgan’s question, she pressed her lips together, suddenly nervous.  “I, uh…” she swallowed, adjusting her position to look at Morgan.  “I’m just very passionate about justice, and…” She knew it sounded disingenuous, but after a lifetime of being told that no one could know, sharing that she was a Phoenix felt like walking on thin ice over freezing cold water.  Still, Morgan was putting so much trust in her… why couldn’t she give her that same courtesy?  “I can relate”, she said after a long beat.  “To feeling...hunted or sought after.  We’re not so different.”  She ended with a resolute nod, signifying that’s all she’d say on the matter.  She desperately hoped Morgan would understand, and maybe one day Leah would let her know more.  With that, she turned her attention to Morgan’s book, smiling softly at the question.  “Well, that depends.  Do you have a library card?”, she teased.  

Morgan put her hand gently over Leah’s. There was a tension in her that Morgan was growing familiar with the more she saw of the supernatural world. It was a tension that went beyond common sense caution, that hinted at something as awful as it was personal. “I understand,” she said gently. “People can be very cruel sometimes. I’m sorry if you’ve had to suffer because of them. You don’t have to say, ever, if you don’t want to. But you can sometime. I’ll make sure it stays safe with me. I’ll fae promise-bind myself to it if it comes to it.” She gave Leah’s fingers a squeeze and turned back to the two zombie books, cradling them to chest. “Do I have a library card?” She smirked. “Do I have a library card? Please, Leah. If that’s all it takes, then, would you do the honors of helping me check out?”

As her eyes fell to Morgan’s hand over hers, Leah felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.  She was incredibly thankful that Morgan didn’t press any further, but even more so, her words filled Leah with a giant sense of relief.  If she hadn’t been before, she was sure now that they would remain friends, even after Morgan found the answers she was looking for.  “I’ve been lucky, honestly.  But I think that’s partly because of the secrecy. I appreciate you being so understanding, though.”  A laugh bubbled out of her, and she shook her head.  “No, no… no fae promise binding.  That can be too tricky.”  She grinned, standing up with Morgan and grabbing the rest of the books.  “The pleasure would be all mine”, she said in somewhat of a silly voice, walking back over to the desk.  Once she took Morgan’s card and started entering all her information, she smiled again.  “I’m really glad you’ve been able to find what you were looking for… I hope it’s as helpful as you need it to be”, she said.  Leah slid the card back over to Morgan before continuing.  “Keep them as long as you need, though.  I’ve already waived the return date, so you won’t expect a call from us if they’re not back next month.”

Morgan beamed at Leah as she laughed. Always a good sign when she could share a sense of humor with someone. Morgan gave her a silly curtsey and followed her back to the lobby. She drummed her hands anxiously on the counter, eaget to get hold of them again, until Leah spoke and she found herself faltering, letting one of the books slip from her fingers. “You--you what? Leah that’s--” Morgan couldn’t fight the smile coming over her face. “That’s incredibly kind of you.” She reached over the counter to give her arm a good squeeze, pulling back sheepishly when she realized she might have been too hard. She mouthed an earnest ‘sorry’, took the books, and edged her way out of the library. “I hope this isn’t the only time we hang out in person, Leah,” she said. “I think I really could use a friend like you.”

#undead and well read #wr leah #wr chatzy #wr leah chatzy #wr #wickedswriting

[themattress]

Danganronpa Chapter Ranking

Ranking all 18 chapters across the three games. 

First, I will rank each corresponding chapters over one another.

Chapter 1:

1. Welcome to Dangan Island + Destination Despair (DR2)

DR2 is the technical best of the series and it definitely has the strongest opening. While I actually prefer DR1′s prologue, DR2 definitely ups the stakes when it comes to the actual introductory murder mystery, creating a spooky nighttime locked room situation right off the bat and keeping you guessing as to how the murder went down. The high point, of course, is the revelation of Nagito’s true nature, which let you know that this is a guy to watch out for.

2. Welcome to Despair + To Survive (DR1)

Like I said, the prologue to DR1 is my favorite one - just the opening scene alone perfectly sets the tone for all that’s to follow, I also really enjoy getting to explore the school and interacting with the adorable Sayaka Maizono. The problem with this chapter is when Sayaka gets killed. Not only is the investigation a very standard one, but the mystery is too easily solved - Sayaka even wrote her killer’s freaking name down and most players will figure that out well before any of the characters do! I know this is the first case and all, but come on!

3. Ultimate Revival + My Class Trial, Our Class Trial (DRV3)

If DR1′s first chapter problem was being too easy to solve, this one’s problem is that it’s impossible to solve because the game withholds the key evidence for the sake of a twist - evidence that exposes the female protagonist you are playing as, Kaede, as the culprit! It’s a shame - despite some issues here and there (goddamn Monokubs...), I was liking the atmosphere this chapter was setting up with its ticking clock factor, the Ultimate Academy was well designed and kept distinct from Hope’s Peak, and Kaede was a wonderful, lovable protagonist the likes of which we hadn’t seen before in this series. But that one ending twist which results in her getting taken from us in favor of some dude ruins the whole chapter.

Chapter 2:

1. Boy’s Life of Despair (DR1)

Only DR1 manages to have its second chapter be an improvement over the first: with not only expansions on all of the characters and even the school itself, but a mystery that isn’t so easily solved because a certain rich douchebag deliberately tampered with the crime scene in order to make the case more challenging. The only mark I have against this one is the weird gender politics at play, and even then it’s not insulting or anything: Mondo’s toxic masculinity is even highlighted as his fatal flaw. And of course, this chapter gave us Genocide Jack. WIN.

2. Sea and Punishment, Sin and Coconuts (DR2)

While a step down from the preceding chapter, it’s not by much: this is still a quality chapter with quality character and plot development and a quality murder mystery. My biggest gripes are that it becomes obvious who the culprit is early into the trial and how they committed the murder but it takes a long time for the characters to decide on those things. If that wasn’t enough, the revelation of the killer’s motives is ridiculous, with two shocking swerves on top of each other, one of them a lie and the other one the truth. The actual scene leading to the execution, however, more than makes up for that with how emotional it is, with one of Derek Stephen Prince’s best performances in his career as Fuyuhiko reveals his inner vulnerability.

3. A Thin Line Divides Heaven and Hell (DRV3)

This second chapter is a HUGE step down from the first one. Shuichi is immediately a far blander, less compelling protagonist than Kaede was, there are too many detours before the murder happens, the mystery is way too convoluted and the culprit’s motivation is an even bigger shocking swerve than DR2′s, and the execution just goes full Saw to the point of being almost too uncomfortable to watch. In the end, it doesn’t even feel like this case mattered, it was all a drawn-out way of revealing the underwhelming “twist” to Maki’s true identity which only ended up working against her character. The best part of this chapter would have to be the body discovery, which is one of the most shocking and effective in the whole series.

Chapter 3:

1. A Next Generation Legend! Stand Tall, Galactic Hero! (DR1)

Third Case Syndrome hits DR1 the least out of all the games, as despite the problem of the class trial’s pay-off not matching the intensity of the build-up, it still doesn’t cheat the player in any way. The mystery is still well designed and on paper the crime is brilliant, and even the way it falls apart in execution makes logical sense given what has been established about Celestia and Hifumi throughout the game. There’s even fun to be had in the trial given Celestia’s legendary breakdown, plus her execution being among the series’ funniest.

2. Trapped by the Ocean Scent (DR2)

I like some things about this chapter, particularly early on: Fuyuhiko’s character development, Ibuki’s concert, Nekomaru’s sacrifice, Nagito continuing to be his delightfully twisted self, and Monokuma’s hilarious “Wizard of Monomi” movie. The build-up to the body discovery with that supposed suicide video is also legitimately scary. But it all falls apart in the class trial to a comical degree, with the revelation of the culprit having so much wrong with it I hardly know where to begin. Everything about Despair Disease in general feels like filler and a way to ax off three characters that Kodaka had no idea what to do with. It’s just a glaringly bad chapter.

3. Transfer Student From Beyond the Grave (DRV3)

This is where Third Case Syndrome hits its nadir: once again some legitimately good and scary build-up (including the requisite second murder happening halfway through the investigation when you’re not expecting it to) is destroyed by a farcical class trial that is riddled with plot holes, convoluted mechanics, and random extreme character turns that makes it clear that Kodaka was just doing all this to kill off characters he felt had reached their limits rather than staying consistent with what came before. Special mention must go to Korekiyo’s motives. While Celestia and Mikan’s motives aren’t sympathetic either, there are sympathetic reasons behind them. But with Kiyo, the reasoning behind his serial killing is...incest. Literal brother-sister incest. We had a potentially interesting, creepy character in Kiyo, but he was utterly squandered and turned into one big incest/see-saw meme. Such a waste!

Chapter 4:

1. Do Ultimate Robots Dream of Clockwork? (DR2)

One of the most challenging yet also one of the most unique and rewarding chapters in the whole series. The Strawberry / Grape funhouse is the stuff of nightmares, and the game doesn’t pull any punches in how horrific the situation inside it is, with the characters slowly starving to death and with the only way out being to either kill someone or brave a creepy life-threatening escape room. Then once the murder happens you get to play as Nagito during the investigation, getting further insight into his fucked-up mind before he pulls a morbidly hilarious 180 on his attitude and becomes a total condescending jerkwad rather than a creepy self-denigrating suck-up. And the investigation and trial amounting to figuring out how the funhouse is structured and how that structure was utilized in the murder is intellectually stimulating in the best way. Add to that one of the most emotional culprit revelations and executions and you have one of the greatest chapters ever put in a mystery-solving game.

2. All*Star*Apologies (DR1)

DR2′s fourth chapter is better, but DR1′s comes extremely close. Not only is it a locked room mystery where just about everyone except the protagonist and deuteragonist are a feasible suspect which leads to the most fun, challenging and satisfying class trial in the game, but it also ends up being the story’s emotional high point. The reveal of who actually killed Sakura and why, the reasoning behind why an innocent party tried to take the blame for it, and the long-overdue uniting of the Killing Game’s participants (even Byakuya!) against their true enemy, Monokuma...it’s powerful stuff that lingers in your memory long after it’s finished.

3. Live and Let the Languid World Live (DRV3)

Now don’t get me wrong: this chapter was the best one in DRV3 since the first chapter, but I feel like it’s trying too hard to recapture the glory of the previous games’ fourth chapters and mostly failing. The virtual world and trying to figure out how it works is a blatant copy of the funhouse from DR2, except that we barely spend time in the virtual world compared to the funhouse and whereas figuring out the structure of the funhouse actually took a lot of thinking, the secret of the virtual world is painfully easy to deduce and leads to another instance of the player being several steps ahead of the characters. Kokichi as a Nagito-esque antagonist just doesn’t work and it’s frustrating to watch him play all the other characters like fiddles when it’s so transparently obvious what he is doing. Lastly, while the deaths of Sakura, Alter-Ego Chihiro, Nekomaru and Gundham were sad, there was still a note of triumph and hope in them as well. There’s none of that in the deaths of Miu, Gonta and his Alter-Ego. These deaths are just sad, depressing wastes, even moreso in retrospect after Chapter 6.

Chapter 5:

1. Smile at Hope in the Name of Despair (DR2)

Nagito was right: DR2′s Chapter 4 was merely “the opening act” for THE best chapter in both the game and the entire series. Seeing Nagito finally go full-on batshit insane and carve out a path of destruction that leads to his own death is enthralling, as is figuring out the hows and the whys of his death, peeling back the layers of his madness and malice until you arrive at the horrifying truth, all culminating in one of the most heart-wrenching moments in the series when Chiaki finally reveals the truth about herself and offers herself up as a sacrifice to stop Nagito’s heinous scheme from coming to fruition. I get teary-eyed just thinking about it! The bizarre triangular dynamic between Hajime, Chiaki and Nagito really made this game’s story as good as it is despite uneven writing early on, and this chapter is the culmination of it.

2. Voyage Without Passion or Purpose (DRV3)

When it comes to the game’s overarching story, I don’t really care much for the events that transpire in this chapter. But when taken as a stand-alone, it’s excellent. Someone has been killed and someone is responsible for it, but for the first time in the series you aren’t just unsure about the culprit, but the victim as well! To make matters worse, the culprit shows up to the class trial inside a mech suit that has a voice changer, and he keeps changing his voice between Kaito and Kokichi’s to further muddle which one of them is actually dead. And to top it all off, not even Monokuma knows the solution to this mystery and you actually have to work together with him in order to solve it! Gotta hand it to Kodaka: this move was inspired. If only I actually gave a damn about Kaito, Kokichi and Maki, this case would hit much harder.

3. 100 Mile Dash; Pain of a Junk Food Junkie (DR1)

This time, the opposite holds true: I like these events as part of the over-arching story, especially everything that happens from the execution (the scariest one in the whole game, IMO) and onward. But when taken on its own, this chapter is a mess. Not only is the mystery and trial literally contrived by Monokuma in order to set a trap for one character, but it tips its hand too early by showing the discovery of the victim’s dead body well before it’s time for that scene to happen, and the constant flashing back to Kyoko telling Makoto about the existence of Mukuro Ikusaba is somewhere between comical and infuriating. I think the worst part is that there’s no permanent consequences for anyone: nobody actually dies in this chapter! Not the supposed victim Mukuro, not Monokuma, not Kyoko and not Makoto. It even turns out that Alter-Ego Chihiro managed to kind of survive its execution in the previous chapter! WTF? We’ve spent a whole game getting used to the finality of death, but now death is cheap!

Chapter 6:

1. Ultimate Despair + Goodbye Despair High School (DR1)

I think that DR2′s final chapter is arguably better, more epic and more conclusive than DR1′s, but I still can’t help but prefer DR1′s, similar to how I prefer Phoenix Wright’s “Turnabout Goodbyes” to Trial & Tribulations’ “Bridge to the Turnabout”. Everything about the overarching story and its mystery comes together perfectly here, Junko Enoshima never had the same villainous impact that she does here, and the conclusion where Makoto saves the day by becoming the Ultimate Hope, Junko puts herself through every execution in the game, and the surviving students open the door to an uncertain yet still hopeful future is just iconic.

2. This is the End, Goodbye Academy of Despair + The Day Before the Future (DR2)

Like I said, this one might be superior on a technical level, as it pulls out even bigger plot twists, features even deeper emotions and a greater sense of closure and catharsis, has a grander sense of scope, and Junko being given an even more final defeat since she’s a villain that if you want to defeat you can’t just kill physically but spiritually as well. Chiaki’s role here especially gets me choked up, and Hajime’s narration in the epilogue is the perfect note to end the story on....both the story of DR2 and the conjoined story of DR0, DR1 and DR2.  

3. Goodbye Danganronpa + Everyone’s Killing Game, Closing Ceremony (DRV3)

This is an ending that’s better watched than it is played. Watching it, it’s comedy gold in how absurd it is. But actually playing through it is a chore, and having to do such a chore for the sake of an ending that is intentionally designed to piss you off is no fun at all. While I’d say the game’s third chapter is technically worst, this one is definitely my least favorite, especially when you take that god-awful, pointless epilogue into account. Kodaka, if you want to end Danganronpa, then go all the way and end it on your terms; don’t pussy out with that crap!

And now, my final ranking of all the chapters is as follows:

1. Smile at Hope in the Name of Despair (DR2) 2. Do Ultimate Robots Dream of Clockwork (DR2) 3. All*Star* Apologies (DR1) 4. Boy's Life of Despair (DR1) 5. Welcome to Dangan Island + Destination Despair (DR2) 6. Welcome to Despair + To Survive (DR1) 7. Ultimate Despair + Goodbye Despair (DR1) 8. This is the End, Goodbye Academy of Despair + The Day Before the Future (DR2) 9. Sea and Punishment, Sin and Coconuts (DR2) 10. Voyage Without Passion or Purpose (DRV3) 11. A Next Generation Legend! Stand Tall, Galactic Hero! (DR1) 12. Live and Let the Languid World Live (DRV3) 13. Ultimate Revival + My Class Trial, Our Class Trial (DRV3) 14. Trapped by the Ocean Scent (DR2) 15. 100 Mile Dash; Pain of a Junk Food Junkie (DR1) 16. A Thin Line Divides Heaven and Hell (DRV3) 17. The Transfer Student From Beyond the Grave (DRV3) 18. Goodbye Danganronpa + Everyone's Killing Game, Closing Ceremony (DRV3)

1-9 are the “strong chapters”, while 10-18 are the “weak chapters”.

#Dangan Ronpa #Opinion #Analysis #Comparison

[grapehyunshair]

Infidelity pt.3 // JJH

It has been 6 months since you walked out of the house and to say those months have been hard would be an understatement. Trying to forget Jaehyun was harder than you thought it would be, seeing as his face was literally everywhere around you. At first you couldn't bear hanging out with the other boys as well and you had stopped picking up their calls or answering their messages. That was until Mark and Hyuck almost broke down your door one day and demanded to "get your ass up and hang out with them". Ever since that day you have become much closer with those two than you ever were, both of them making sure that they never mentioned Jaehyun's name around you. The older members made sure to check up on you as well. Taeyong and Doyoung regularly swung by and made food for you, Johnny and Taeil took you out on walks, Ten had dance parties with you, while Jungwoo, Sicheng and Yuta took you shopping at least once a week because according to them you needed to up your dating game. That's how you found yourself getting ready for a date one Saturday night with one of Johnny's friends who was visiting from Chicago for a week. You really didn't want to go, claiming that it was pointless since he would be leaving either way, yet Johnny insisted that you at least try seeing what going on a date would be like considering that you hadn't really gone on many dates before dating Jaehyun. So with that thought in mind you hesitantly agreed and now you were regretting everything because you were really, really nervous. You walked to the restaurant you would be meeting Minhyuk (YES IM IMAGINING MINHYUK FROM MONSTA X FITE ME) -Johnny's friend- thinking that some fresh air would make you losen up a little bit and it did; it really did until you reached your destination and saw him waiting for you. You had to admit he was very handsome and you wished in this moment you could get Jaehyun out of your brain and give this guy a proper chance so that's what you tried to do. You approached him with a smile and said a small hi.

This is a happy ending version bc many of u guys asked for it uwuwu I'll write an alternative angsty ending in a while ily guys

"Oh, you must be Y/N. You're even more beautiful than Johnny described." He grinned and gave you a hug, making you blush in return and hug him back. He had a beautiful smile, with one small dimple popping up making him look adorable. "Shall we go in? I hope you're hungry." He said gesturing the door.

"Yeah, I'm actually starving." You laughed. He chuckled and held the door for you, so you could get in. You walked in and both of your jaws dropped in shock. The restaurant, Johnny's pick, was fancier than you had ever been, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, gourmet plates on each table, while the floor was made from marble, gold details decorating every corner. And that would be fine you see, if Johnny had actually told you where you guys would be going but no, he kept it to himself and let you both be completely underdressed for the situation.

"Um, Minhyuk, I don't think we're very fitting for this place." You said, nervously, while glancing at him.

He turned to look at you and said a small, "Hey, wanna get out of here?" to which you smiled and said, "I though you'd never ask."

So this is how you ended up at McDonald's, sitting in a corner booth, eating chicken nuggets and fries, laughing your hearts out at little stories you both shared with each other.

"I can't believe they actually did that." Minhyuk said, choking up from laughter.

"Honestly, it's Johnny and Taeil, what would you expect?" you replied, raising your eyebrow at that, while popping a fry in your mouth.

"You're right, I should know better." He agreed, "Hey I'll go get myself another milkshake so I can dip my fries, want one?"

"Nah, I think I'm full, I should probably stop eating." you said and he laughed getting up and going towards the cashier. Your eyes followed his back and you couldn't help but the small sad smile that creeped up your lips. You were having so much fun, but you know that you couldn't offer him anything other than friendship at this point and you knew he knew as well. You could tell by the way he didn't try anything with you, something you appreciated a lot. You sighed and your mind drifted back to Jaehyun as you wondered what he was doing. You suddenly heard familiar voices making your eyes go wide and your heartbeat increase. One was Johnny's and the other one was no other than Jaehyun's. At first they didn't notice you sitting a few feet away from them, until they reached the cashier and saw Minhyuk waiting on the line. Johnny's eyes went as wide as yours and he quickly scanned the place to see if you were there as well, freezing when he saw you looking at them. Jaehyun alarmed at his friend's reaction, looked at the direction of what made Johnny white as a ghost and mirrored his expression when he saw you sitting there. He looked bad. Really bad. His face looked like he had aged at least five years, black circles decorating his beautiful eyes. His appearance was dissevered, almost as if he hadn't left the house in days. He reminded you of yourself, when you were alone in your house, dealing with your thoughts. Could it be..?

Minhyuk seeing the whole situation, quickly greeted the boys and skipped towards you in attempt to get you out of the place as fast as he could. To be honest, he really liked you and had fun with you, besides knowing that your heart belonged to Jaehyun still. And he was okay with that, he would cherish your friendship a lot if you were willing to give this to him. Johnny had filled him in with the information earlier, so he knew that you being in this situation right now would not be good for you, that's why when he reached you he took your hand, pulled you on your feet, asking you if you were okay softly.

"Can we get out of here please?" You croaked out, voice too weak to be heard.

"Yes, yes of course." He said and took your bag, guiding you out. You hadn't even walked two steps out of the door when you heard your name being called out. You froze and pretended that you hadn't heard anything, while you kept walking.

"He's calling for you." Minhyuk said, trying to keep up with you, a task that was kinda difficult considering it had started snowing while you were inside. That wouldn't stop you though, because your desire to be away from Jaehyun right now was bigger than any difficulty you were facing.

"I know. I just can't face him right now. I'm so sorry for ruining this night." You said apologetically, looking at the ground.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching for your elbow with his hand and stopping you from walking away, "you didn't ruin anything. I think it would be good for you to talk to him though, see what he wants. I know you still love him Y/N, you will always love him." He said, kissing your head and ruffling your hair. This action, gave Jaehyun the time to reach you guys, panting, nose and ears red as a tomato.

"You should talk to her, however if I hear you are causing trouble I won't hesitate to step in." Minhyuk said sternly, giving Jaehyun a threatening pat on the back, while he went to sit on a bench nearby were Johnny was looking at the scene unfold.

"Hi." Jaehyun said, hesitantly, "How have you been?"

"Good. You?" You replied curtly.

"I'm okay, I guess. I don't even know." He said, fiddling with the ring on his fingers. The ring you had gifted him on your one year anniversary.

"Y-you're still wearing that?" You said, in disbelief. To anyone that passed the street, the scene probably looked romantic. A young couple, that tried to shrug off the nerves of the first date probably, but the truth was far worse than that. You could feel yourself breaking the walls that you build once again and you hated that. You hated how he could barge into your life at any point and take your heart by storm.

"Yeah. I am." He said, scratching the back of his neck. "I see you're dating again. I hope he makes you happy." He said, a hint of jealousy lacing his voice.

"Me? Oh no. Minhyuk and I are just friends. He's leaving in a few days either way." You said, shrugging. Jaehyun looked almost relieved at that, leaving you very confused.

"Hey, can we go sit down for a while?" He said pointing at a bench under some cherry blossoms a few feet away. "I need to say something."

"I don't know Jaehyun. There isn't really anything to say." You said, not being completely sure of your feelings at the exact moment.

"Please. 5 minutes. That's all I ask." He said, desperately, his eyes looking for your eyes, in attempt to convince you. And he did, so you sighed and said a soft okay.

You walked to the bench in silence and you took a seat as far away from him as you could. Ah, stupid Y/N that was a bad idea. You could smell his perfume, a smell you missed incredibly much, giving you a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You both stayed silent for a while, unable to find words to say to each other until Jaehyun broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing Y/N. Everything was so much at the time. The practices, the hectic schedule, the fact that I almost never saw you. I thought I didn't love you anymore, when in face I never stopped. I just missed you and instead of thinking about it, I acted carelessly." He said and you turned around to face him, not believing what you were being told.

"You missed me? You still loved me? Then why Jaehyun? Why go and fuck around?" You said, the anger of the past coming back up. "I missed you too, yet I stayed faithful to you."

"I know. I know you did. I know I'm an asshole and that I don't deserve you. I'm not trying to take the blame off myself, I know I'm the only one to blame. I just was so lost. I felt that I wasn't good enough for anything. I wasn't good enough for you. I took my own insecurities on you and hurt you. But you were, and are, the only person who knows me better than I know myself. I was ashamed of my thoughts and I knew that you could see right through me. So I distanced myself from you, at first, to keep this image of myself hidden from you. At least until I could stop being like that. And then I missed your love and affection, and that was when I started looking for it elsewhere. And it was never the same, but I was so confused that I was okay with it. I didn't even notice when I became that person. I'm- I'm so sorry." He said, his voice breaking, tears rolling down his cheeks.

You were in no better condition. You didn't even notice when you had started crying, both from sadness and love for the boy in front of you. You instinctively reached out for Jaehyun's hand, the warmth feeling familiar, calming you down a bit.

"Jae.. I really don't know what to say. Nor what to do. I tried so hard to forget you Jaehyun. I really did. And I can't do that and it breaks my heart. But I don't know what I should do about that, I don't know what would be best." You said, your thumb caressing his palm.

Jaehyun looked at you and placed his palm on the side of your head, you leaning your head to rest on it.

"I love you. I never stopped. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me and I'll respect that, but if you could give me a second chance I promise you, you won't regret it." He pleaded, getting closer to you. You knew you should have gotten up and walked away. You knew those beautiful eyes had the power to hurt you again and leave you more broken than before, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to move from your spot. Truth was, you missed Jaehyun so much. There hasn't been a day those past 6 months, when you didn't think of him. Your love for him was so big that you were willing to risk your sanity just so you could wake up next to him one more day, as stupid as that made you look.

"I want to Jae. You have no idea how much I've missed you. But I don't know if I can trust you again. It's going to be very hard and I don't know if it will be worth it in the end." You said, letting go of his hand and placing it on your lap.

"We'll take it slow. We'll take it as slow as you want to take it. I'll do anything to make you trust me again. Just, please. Please be mine again. I miss the way you look every morning with your hair tangled up and your cheeks muffled in the pillow. I miss the way you scrunch your little nose when you are confused. I miss the way you make fun of me when I have my "practice" face on. I miss your smell. I miss the way taste of strawberries from your chapstick when I kiss you. I miss you. Please." He said and you started crying all over again. God, you needed to get a grip of your emotions smh.

"Are you willing to wait for me? Wait till I can trust you again?" You said, with a small sigh.

"I'm willing to wait fifty years if that means you'll be mine again." He said caressing your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"Okay then. I hope you don't make me regret it." You said, trying to smile through the tears.

"You won't. In fact, let's start all over again." He said and got up. "Hi, I'm Jaehyun, is this seat taken?" He said and gestured next to you.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. No, it's not you can seat here." You said laughing. Jaehyun grinned, his dimples full on display, while he took your hand, pulling you up towards him, while he hugged you, spinning you in circles, the snow falling all around you.

In the distance, Johnny smiled at the sight, hoping that none of you would break each other's hearts again.

#nct #nct u #nct127 #nct dream #kpop imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct fluff imagines #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst

[killscreencinema]

Secret of Mana (SNES)

I have a tense history with Secret of Mana.

When the game was first released by Squaresoft in 1993, the commercial (above) really captured my interest.  The luscious visuals of the commercial and the simple premise of a boy finding a magic sword - it all reminded me enough of Zelda to be worth looking into!

I didn’t get around to renting the game until about a year later, after we had moved to a small town in Kentucky called Lewisburg.  This town was in no way, shape, or form a “burg” - it was hardly even a hamlet.  It consisted of a Piggly Wiggly and a gas station - that was it.  So you can imagine how boring it was to live there as a child.  My adolescent brain was starved for imaginative storytelling, so it was at this specific point, when I was at my most receptive, that I dived into the world of J-RPGs, beginning with Secret of Mana. 

The moment I turned on the SNES, I was captivated by game, from its curious use of whale song during the Squaresoft logo to the gorgeously cinematic title screen accompanied by some of the most beautiful music I’d ever heard in a video game (then one day in the near future I’d play Final Fantasy III, the music of which would blow my mind apart).  I loved everything about this, and I hadn’t even begun the game yet.  This was a good sign. 

The game begins with your main character, Randi (which is an odd name to give a sword wielding fantasy hero), finding an old sword by the waterfall in his village and pulling it from the stone.  This act allegedly unleashes hordes of monsters, earning Randi a one way ticket to banishment from his village.  Randi quickly gets swept up into a quest to save the world’s “mana” from being exploited by an evil Empire, who plan to resurrect the Mana Fortress that could potentially destroy the world. 

When I finally got into the meat of the game, I must admit I had struggled with it.  Keep in mind this was my first RPG, of any sort besides Zelda, and unlike A Link to the Past, this game didn’t hold your hand when it came to letting you know where to go next or even the basic mechanics of the game.  Playing it again as an adult, it’s a lot more linear than I remembered, but I can still see how the child version of me could get lost.  For one thing, you don’t meet your two companions in any particular order.  You can meet the sprite, Popoi, first or you can meet the girl, Primm.  Figuring out how to navigate their menus and control their actions was a whole other learning curve I probably never mastered as a kid.

Anyway, at this point, you’re probably wondering “So why is your history with this game tense?  It sounds like you rather liked it.”  True, I did like it, despite not having a clue what I was doing and progressing through the game’s main quest at a snail’s pace.  Bare in mind, I had rented this game, so if I wanted to make it far, time was of the essence!  So I had finally, ARDUOUSLY made it to the Witch’s Castle, the first major dungeon of the game.  After hopelessly wandering around for so long, I was excited and proud to have finally made it this far.  I took a break from the game to watch TV, while my little brother invited a neighbor kid over to play video games (I want to say the kid’s name was David).   I could hear them playing Secret of Mana in our shared bedroom, so I yelled a warning from the living room to NOT save over my game. 

At some point, I got bored and decided to watch them play the game.  I got to my bedroom just in time to witness David, that little dipshit neighbor kid, SAVE OVER MY GAME!  My brother looked up at me in dread, and must have saw the rage in my expression, as he immediately left the room, abandoning David to my wrath.  I screamed obscenities at him, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and hurled him bodily out the front door.  Having been sufficiently terrified, David never returned to our house for anything after that.  Even though I hadn’t made it very far into the game, I was much too heartbroken and angry to continue playing it, as it just drudged up angry feelings whenever I turned it on to see David’s game in save spot mine used to be in. 

So that’s why I haven’t played Secret of Mana for over 20 years... until now. 

Okay, well, the real reason it took me this long to play it again is because I’ve played so many superior RPGs since then, Secret of Man seemed crude and quaint by comparison.  Once Final Fantasy came into my life, Secret of Mana was on the outs, and would stay that way until my interest in retro games reignited late into my adult life.  But, yes, I also had a weird, negative emotional association with the game that probably factored in somewhat.

Playing through it as an adult, I must admit the game holds up mighty nicely.  The soundtrack is fucking fantastic for one and vibrant, colorful graphics are a treat for the eyes.  The sucky thing about the soundtrack is it is often cut off due to memory limitations the game occasionally experiences.  I believe it has to do with the extremely high quality of the music (by which I mean on a digital level, not composition-ally), which dragged on the SNES’s processing capabilities. 

The combat in the game is decent, although I found the hit detection questionable and inconsistent.  I’m not sure how much of that is my fault, such as in boss battles where the enemy flies through the air and I’m unable to land a hit on them, perhaps due to them being in flight (although sometimes it seems like I can hit them just fine every now and then while they are in flight).  It would have been nice if a “MISS” or a “0″ would pop up to let you know that you did, indeed, land a hit, albeit an ineffective one.  Otherwise, it often feels like I’m feebly wacking away at an enemy, my weapon seemingly going through them but not inflicting damage.  It can be very frustrating, but it’s not a game breaking problem. 

The game can also be very tedious, such as how you have to upgrade your character’s skill level with every weapon or level grind magic spells until they are sufficiently high enough to be useful.  The latter problem in particular bit me in the ass during the final boss fight, when I discovered that I’d need to use a particular spell in order to even damage the boss, but I had neglected to level up that magic entirely.  So I was pretty well fucked and had to start the entire Mana Fortress over again, this time after having gone back and level grinded ALL of my magic to a reasonable amount (Level 3).  That playthrough was much more successful, but shit, it would have been nice to have been warned “Hey, make sure your Dryad magic is leveled up before this fight!”  Like... just have one of the characters in my party go, “Hey, Randi, we should practice Dryad before going to the Mana Fortress, don’t you think?”

My final complaint about the game is the story.  It’s serviceable enough, but the characters are very flat.  At no point did I feel like I really understood who the bad guys were.  There’s Thanatos, a cult leader; the Emperor; and some guy who tries to run you over with his hover bike like three times over the course of the game.  Randi, Primm, and Popoi are also very shallow, with Popoi being the only one with any discernible personality (that being a petulant wise ass).  In the long run, the gameplay is fun enough that it kept my interest hooked, but a meaty story would have really put the experience over. 

While Secret of Mana isn’t perfect, and far better games have since come after it, the game is still worth playing.  It is a masterfully developed game, made by an incredible gaming company at their absolute PRIME. 

#secret of mana #snes #super nintendo #squaresoft #rpg #jrpg #seiken densetsu 3

[marylorson-blog]

“Rolling Thunder”  excerpted from Signals: a performance memoir 

                                      Featured May 2020 on          Unfictional https://www.kcrw.com/culture/shows/unfictional

I wasn't a bastard but I still felt kind of illegitimate. Dad and Mom had eloped, three months after meeting. My sisters from Mom’s first marriage loved him like mad, but then one day Dad vanished, before I could form a single memory of him. 

I've always wondered why that day was the finale. How do you walk away from a beaming little two-year-old face, one that looks like you?   I was there, but unaware. I want the scene.   

My sisters say: Dad was great.  

Mom says: All you need to know is he walked away. 

Dad said: Mom kicked him out that day, that he crammed his suits and stereo into the Mustang  and rushed to the city for a meeting, paying a kid twenty bucks to guard the car, which was empty anyway when he came back out. 

Later, once I knew him, I asked: “Was there another woman?”  

His answer: “There must have been.”   

THEY BLAMED IT ALL ON ALCOHOL. 

Mom said: infidelity wasn't the only problem; unofficial-seeming “bill collectors” were showing up at the house.  

My sisters said: Dad made life fun, played the piano, adored Mom. But skillets and invectives would fly in the night...and then Dad went missing, with hundreds of thousands of some investor’s dollars. 

By the time my sisters were 8, 10 and 11, they had lost two fathers.    

Mom hadn’t worked since modeling before her first marriage. She borrowed tuition for a full-time secretarial course and sent me to stay with her brother, another charming alcoholic with money problems and a fed-up wife. Mom and the girls stayed behind, in the lovely house on Manor Lane. 

I rejoined them fifteen months and few blocks but a world away, in a garden apartment behind the Country Club. Mom kept the crystal chandelier and her gown from the Kennedy Inaugural, and a suite of heavy furniture that wasn’t made for small rooms. 

Sometime later, Dad called Mom for a friendly chat. He was glad to hear she was in love and admitted that he and his girlfriend had a baby. He asked her to sign some papers for a Tijuana divorce. Sure, Mom said, and I’ll take the trip too. She came back with castanets and a tan. I remember understanding that my parents would never get back together.

I had Dad's nose and hair and musicality, but couldn’t remember a thing about him. Mom said I was lucky I didn't know what I was missing. The older girls talked about their happy chapter with my dad all the time, but I’d wait alone out front for the Mustang that didn't come.  

One day, though, he showed, and this was my own first memory of Dad: Christmastime, Chinatown, and three wrapped presents: a Dancerina doll, a Polaroid Swinger, and a camel hair coat from Saks. The surviving Polaroids show a serious dad and a manically happy me.

Dad promised that now he was going to bring all his kids together regularly. He'd repeat this song on our scattershot dates over the years, but that visit WAS the beginning, of our intermittent, fond, indulgent, dishonest bond.  After that, I lived in obsessive anticipation of the next visit, never knowing when it would be. 

(Band in)

A Dancerina doll, a Polaroid Swinger, and a camel hair coat from Saks. Dad gave me these, and went back to wherever he went.

During Kindergarten: I roomed with Mom, but she was out most nights. The big girls had the other bedroom. I wasn’t allowed in, but from the other side of the door I’d smell and listen attentively. Incense, patchouli, cigarettes, maybe pot? Talking, laughing, singing Joni Mitchell, CSNY...yelling, hitting, screaming, cursing. I swear I could hear the brushing of their long tresses, the swinging of their unhindered double-D breasts...meanwhile people kept mistaking me for a boy.

“You have your father’s thin hair,” Mom complained, so she took me to the barber on the corner, who gave me a buzz cut... and rationalized it this way: “It don't matta if she looks bad now; it mattas what she looks like when she's 18.” Mom thought this was a riot. There was none of this “you're beautiful because you're you” bullshit with Mom. You either looked good, or you didn't. 

THERE IN THE CATHODE LIGHT, NOBODY BEAMED UP BRIGHT                      ENOUGH FOR HER TO LIKE  NOONE TO WALK BESIDE 

YEAH, YOU HARDLY KNEW US                                       

 THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE/THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE

Then, In first grade we moved to Carol Avenue, and I almost had another sister!

 Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne!....Jeanne!

We had a great time together.

MOM MET HER FATHER AT THE GIANT STEP

A PIANO BAR IN NEW ROCHELLE                                   

SHE'D GOT MY DEADBEAT DAD THE GIG, 

AND HE SHOWED  UP                                                           

WENT DOWN SO SHE COULD GRAB THE TIPS, 

AND LET ADMIRERS BUY HER DRINKS                                  

LED BY THE VERY HANDSOME ED DESONNE

Mom was passionate and needed a rescue; Ed DeSonne was a prosperous investment banker. Both were raising broods of four alone. Ed wasn’t divorced yet, but soon he and Mom got engaged, and we were going to be like the Brady Bunch, with martinis. In the meantime, he was paying the rent on our roomy townhouse on Carol Avenue...

YEAH, IT'S NEVER SIMPLE

BUT WE'LL GIVE IT A TRY; MAYBE BE ALRIGHT

Jeanne too was the youngest of four. She was fearless and funny, and once the parents were married, she would be my roommate. But until then, I had to spend a few more nights with one or another of my unwilling sisters.  One such Saturday, Knockout Diane was supposed to watch me while Shy Karen sister went to a party, but Diane sneaked out. Karen wailed, but Mom had plans with Ed, who arrived in a cloud of aftershave and tapped his shiny toe in the foyer. Mom appeared in glamorous good cheer and ordered me to kiss him. I didn't wanna. 

“Go ahead: give him a little kiss,” Mom said, and Ed reached out gamely, but I wound back and fired a fierce little first-grade kick right into his suited shin. 

Today we'd say I was “acting out.” But back then, everybody just yelled. Then the grownups... went out. And the television...went on.  And then: Ed DeSonne disappeared, changing the channel on a whole other level.

 ED, WE HARDLY KNEW YE…

In first grade you learn to add 2 plus 2. I overheard the word “funeral” and didn’t see Jeanne’s dad for a week; these factors equalled --to me-- that he was dead. When Mom announced it, the big girls wailed like the world was ending. But I just said: “I know.”

I wasn't glad Ed was dead, but I wasn't sad, either. I didn't know how much we lost.         

Mom told everyone the aneurysm happened while Ed was driving; years later she told me the rest of the story.  She also told me that, in her grief, she'd called MY DAD, as a friend, and that he'd sneaked away to be there with her at Ed's funeral.

In the instant it takes for a blood vessel to pop, Mom became bereft, unemployed, and homeless. And our family dispersed like seeds in the wind. 

Diane went to live with her father in the city. The rest of us were taken in by another divorcee with a sun-porch we shared for the nervous, chilly months it took Mom to save up a security deposit.  Karen cried endlessly,  Mom cooing in her ear and breaking Valiums in half.  Fightin’ Joni moved in with her best friend. I got caught standing on our hosts’ kitchen counter in my loafers, stealing cookies from their Charles Chips tin.

But worst of all, Jeanne was sent into foster care.   

I only saw her once again after that, but we’re Facebook friends now. 

While we were staying with the other family, Dad got tickets for the TV show "Wonderama", for me and our host's daughter, and she won the big prize! Our moms picked us up, tipsy on high heels, loading the prizes in the back of a Checker, ignoring candy-starved Moonies in white shirts and dark blazers who tried to sell us carnations.  

(BEAT, then energy back down)

Mom found an apartment. It was in Tuckahoe, so we switched schools. I was in 2nd grade; Joni, 7th; Karen, 9th. I got sent to the principal's office for wearing pants; he showed me a paddle, said next time he'd use it. But maybe it wasn't just the trousers. 

Men landed on the moon. “Evil Ways” was in heavy rotation. And “Spinning Wheel.” Our apartment sat at a dead end by a highway. At night the passing cars projected an abstract slide show on our bedroom wall. In the living room, Mom would light a candle and drink wine. The apartment often smelled of the burned bottom of a saucepan.

That Christmas Eve, Mom fell asleep and the candles burned all the way down, through the tablecloth, and into the nice oak table. I woke up when the fire department arrived. 

YEAH, WE HARDLY KNEW YOU//IT WAS JUST OUR LIFE/THAT WAS JUST OUR LIFE

Karen was 15 and wanted privacy; I was seven and wanted company. One day these opposing desires clashed at a bedroom door, both sides pushing until the big kid won, my middle finger slammed in the door jamb.

The top was hacked completely off. Mom raced me to New Rochelle Hospital, where the surgeon told her to retrieve the tip of my finger or I'd have a stump for the rest of my life. Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Karen tried to flush my finger, along with her shame and horror, down the toilet.

Thanks to low-rent plumbing, my fingertip didn't disappear, and the toilet water even kept it alive. Mom carried it in a baggie back to the surgeon, who successfully reattached it. (Now, there’s a parent's errand.) They kept me in the hospital for a week, because I was hyperactive and the doctor feared I'd bang the stitches open.

It's possible I was on painkillers, because when Dad appeared he was like a dream, swinging down the hall with his great suit and smiling blue eyes.  He'd stopped at the gift shop, and gotten me a dozen long stemmed American Beauty roses and a music box. When you opened it, a ballerina pirouetted to this song: 

OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MORNING/ OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY/I'VE GOT A BEAUTIFUL FEELING/EVERYTHING'S GOING MY WAY 

The roses died, of course. I kept that box, though, long after the ballerina broke off and the inside felt was smutty with lipgloss and melted JollyRanchers. Didn’t see Dad again for another 4 years..

#memoir #musical #70s culture

[luvknow]

royal au | the prince, lee felix

PRINCE - next in line for the crown.

LEE FELIX was the most adored prince in all the land. the townspeople dubbed him prince charming when the king held a party in celebration of his birth and all he did was giggle and smile at all the people. felix grew up to be the most handsome and sought after prince in the entire world. but to you, every person who bore a crown was the same - it meant they had money, and lots of it. as a highly-trained thief, you’ve stolen from people of all social statuses and always succeeded, moving from kingdom to kingdom so you would never be found. the lees were your next target, but you realized this heist wouldn’t be as easy as your previous ones when the prince takes an interest in you.

enemies to lovers ; fluff ; female reader ; 6k

woojin | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | FELIX | seungmin | jeongin

the backstory of how you became a thief was just like any other thief’s - typical and painfully sad.

the homeless life in your home kingdom was dangerous because stealing was a straight-to-execution crime.

the second you were caught in the market stealing from the pockets of nobles or even a few apples, authorities would drag you to the guillotine or to be hung - it depended on how they were feeling that day.

but that mostly applied to adults. kids were a bit different, but it was much easier to steal as a kid because people felt sorry for you.

you didn’t want to take any chances, though, so you stole things carefully.

soon, it became second nature to you and that’s how you survived through the days.

whether it was money or food, you honed the skill quite well with both distraction and stealth and you thought no one had caught you.

then one day, as you were eating your loaf of bread, a woman wearing a mask cornered you in an alley.

you thought she was the wife of the baker and was ready to kill you right then and there, but that was not the case at all.

“you’re pretty good at that, little one,” she said seductively. “can you show me that again? i’ll make it worth your while.”

she dangled a little baggie of coins in front of your face and who were you to refuse that? you nodded eagerly, awaiting her demand.

“good. go get that jar of honey for me, will you, sweetheart?”

the jars of honey were stacked neatly on a crate placed closest to the shop owner. this was probably your most dangerous product yet, but you literally had nothing to lose.

other than your life, of course, but even that didn’t matter so much.

the shop owner was busy flirting with some brothel worker when you approached the shop. since distracting was already covered, you had one less job to do.

the jars were quite big and oddly-shaped, so sticking this in your shirt would not be ideal.

instead, since the sleeves of your dirty shirt were long and oversized, your plan was to slip one inside and carry it that way.

when you stopped in front of the honey, you did your usual look-around, making sure no one was watching you.

then, you snagged a jar and zig zagged your way through the market to lose sight of anyone you missed who could have been watching you.

you appeared in front of the lady minutes later, who was startled by how quiet and quick you were.

you were perfect.

“oh, thank you! here’s your payment, as promised,” she said, handing you the small bag.

as you held the coins curiously, not used to the weight and amount, she continued on. “do you have a home, little one?”

you shook your head.

a mischievous grin grew on your painted lips. “would you like one?”

turns out your new older sister is one of the most wanted people in the entire world with a very heavy bounty on her head.

she refuses to get caught but also refuses to give up this luxuriously dangerous life she worked so hard for.

that’s where you come in. her purpose is to train you to become as skilled and stealthy as her and have you do all the dirty work in exchange for some of the earnings and companionship.

you didn’t hesitate at the opportunity. it’s not like you had anything better to do.

besides, all the training was a lot of fun! you learned to shoot arrows, fight with a sword, and some hand-to-hand combat skills.

you trained from dawn to dusk as you and your master travelled between kingdoms. when the sun set was when you went about your nightly missions.

some nights were easy, some nights you nearly got yourself killed, but in the end, you always came back with your pockets and bags filled with whatever your master wanted.

“here’s that damn love potion you wanted so much,” you pouted at her one night. “i normally don’t believe in that magic mumbo jumbo, but after almost getting set on fire, i think you might be onto something with this magic stuff.”

“but of course i’m right, my dear - when am i ever wrong?” she took the black vial from your hands with care and looked at it with sparkles in her eyes. “isn’t she so powerful? oh, the wonders i could do with this...”

“who do you plan on using it on?”

she shrugged carelessly. “i don’t know. maybe a king, or something.”

the next kingdom you settled into was your master’s most highly-anticipated target.

The Lee Kingdom, known for their rich crops and strong wine, was one of the most flourishing kingdoms you’ve ever seen.

everything was golden and warm and you think to yourself how you wouldn’t mind staying here for a while.

and that’s exactly what your master had set up for you.

“this will be our last heist together,” she told you that evening.

“what? why?”

“because after this, i will have taught you everything i know and we will be rich enough to live the rest of our lives freely. and who knows, i might not even live to see you succeed.”

“don’t say that...”

“_____, my dear, this heist is going to be very dangerous for the both of us, so you have to be careful, ok?”

“who are we stealing from that makes this so dangerous?”

“a king, of course.”

you’ve stolen from honest merchants, sleazy priests, and drunk nobles, but you’ve never stolen from someone as highly-regard as the king himself.

this was going to be the toughest mission you’ve ever executed, but if this would make her happy, then you’d do anything.

“you’ll start off small,” she explained, swirling her first glass of wine tonight. “start with the merchants for food and supplies and you’ll work your way up from there. oh, and get to know the townspeople - we’re going to be here for a while.”

“a while? why’s that?”

“the king’s birthday is about a couple of months away and we need to get on the invite list or else the plan won’t work. only the most highly-regarded people get to attend the king’s birthday.”

“and how do you plan on getting us on the list?”

she pulled out the love potion vial with her signature mischievous smirk on her red lips. “using this, of course.”

well, between the two of you, if there was anyone that was going to seduce the king, she would be the perfect person to do it.

she always said fatal attraction and law of seduction were important aspects of being a good thief, but that wasn’t really your alley, at least not yet, so you’ll leave all that nonsense to her.

your first pick-ups in the new kingdom were getting the basics, like bread, meat, silverware, some medicine, and more wine, of course.

it was easy when the streets were quiet and dark at such an early time - it was barely past dinner when everything closed down for the evening.

the townspeople must have really trusted each other, too, because they didn’t do much to hide or lock up all of their goods for safekeeping.

you dropped off your first round of goods to your master, who happily poured herself yet another glass of wine, before you decided to head out again for round two.

the night was still young, so you might as well keep going until you got bored.

somewhere off in one of the many alleys of the kingdom, you heard a bunch of cats meowing.

normally, you would think of that as a bad sign, like maybe they felt a bad spirit there, or something stupid.

but they sounded so hungry and you were feeling guilty hoarding all this fish in your bag.

it was starting to smell, anyways.

when you arrived to the scene of nearly a dozen cats, someone had already beat you to the punch.

a boy not much older or younger than you bent down to place several bowls of cat food in front of the meowing fur balls.

they kept on snuggling against him and you could tell he was struggling.

“do you need some help with that?” you teased.

startled to death, the boy dropped the bowls with a loud, echoey clang.

you felt guilty, so you went to help him regardless.

“sorry if i scared you,” you apologized.

the boy said nothing as he stared at you in awe.

even in the dark, he thought you were so beautiful.

“hello?” you called out, waving your hand in front of the open-mouthed boy. "you got a little drool there.”

“huh? o-oh!”

quickly, he wiped away the drool you were obviously joking about, but he wouldn’t take any chances - he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling.

you decided to ignore the awkward encounter and focus on the now-angry cats awaiting their meals.

“damn, these cats must be starving...” you noted.

“i’d be starving, too, if my caretaker hadn’t fed me all day.”

“wait, you own all of these cats!?”

“and then some. the rest are probably sleeping or looking for their own food. but i don’t own them, i just feed them. my dad’s allergic to cats, so i can’t have any at the castle.”

“ah, that’s unfortunate - wait, did you say castle...?”

“yeah?” he said as if it was so obvious. “don’t you know? i’m the prince.”

“the prince!?” you shrieked.

this was almost too perfect - like it was a trap set just for you. but the mission literally could not get any more perfect.

your plan was set in stone. you’d befriend the prince, get invited to the party, and steal from all the snobby, rich royals who were getting drunk off their ass on some wine.

“are you not from around here?” the boy asked.

“n-no! not really. i travel a lot with my older sister,” you lied. “we just came in this morning.”

“oh! well, welcome to our humble kingdom. my name is felix.”

“i’d hardly call your kingdom humble, dear prince. it’s one of the largest and most flourishing kingdom’s i’ve ever travelled to.”

“ah well, i try to be humble, but as you pointed it out, the kingdom kind of speaks for itself.” the cute boy scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “s-so, will you be staying long...?”

“i think so. can’t imagine why we’d be leaving soon.”

“oh, good! good... well, if you need someone to show you around, i’m always free.”

“wow, a personal tour from the prince himself?” you teased. “how gentlemanly of you.”

“so did you want to...?”

“i’ll think about it.”

you left the boy awestruck and confused, but he liked you because of that. you were definitely interesting.

“wait, what’s your name!?” he asked.

“_____!” you called out to him.

felix felt like he could fly after he met you.

you came home with your fishy bag and a cute smile on your face, hoping big sis would miss it, but of course she didn’t - she never missed any detail about anything.

“what’s with the smirk?” she asked, taking a roll of bread.

“you’ll never guess who i just met - the prince.”

you saw her sit up straight with the widest eyes. “you’re lying.”

“i could not make this up if i tried.”

you saw a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

“perfect.”

you spent the days getting to know the townspeople and the little secrets of the town while at night you would do your nightly pickings and meet up with felix afterwards.

he was an interesting boy - he wasn’t like any other boy or prince you’ve ever met.

he was awkward... but very cute and kind. there were moments when you were with him that you almost felt bad about your purpose here.

but you had to look at the bigger picture - this wasn’t for you, this was for big sis.

while you were feeding the cats with felix on your seventh night in the kingdom, a loud crash that sounded like a broken vase echoed through the empty village, sending the once-peaceful cats running and you on high alert.

it wasn’t like you were stealing or doing anything bad, but being so used to being careful at night, any noise would startle you.

“you’re like a cat, too, aren’t you?” felix teased. “always active at night, fiesty, nervous ~”

“i am not nervous, that noise was really loud...”

“uhuh. maybe the spirits are coming out early this year.”

“... what spirits...?”

“y’know, like dead people’s spirits. the 31st is coming up, after all. that’s the day when they like to roam the streets the most.”

“... you’re lying...”

“i mean, i’m sure that’s all just a myth, but the kingdom loves to celebrate on the 31st.”

“oh? doing what?”

“well, instead of all the shops being open in the daytime, everything opens at night so the spirits can mingle with us, or something like that. the people decorate the kingdom with tons of flowers, pumpkins, and skulls. it’s actually one of my favorite festivals.”

“ah, interesting.”

that meant bad news for you - you couldn’t steal things when there were so many people around and you wouldn’t dare to try in daylight.

you’ll just have to double your stash the night before.

“so,” felix began. “did you... maybe want to go...?”

“hm? to the festival? sure i guess, why not.”

“cool! great...!”

“oh wait, did you mean with you?”

“i... y-yes...?” he stuttered.

“then in that case, i’d love to go with you.”

he groaned loudly before hitting you playfully. “why are you like this?”

“because you’re cute when you blush.”

in between the day he told you about the festival and the festival itself, you both went about your business and meeting up at night as normal.

except he liked spending time with you so much that he even walked you ‘home’.

‘home’ as in some random house down the block of where you were actually staying.

felix would always insist on waiting for you to get inside the house before he left, but you told him you’d go in through the back so you wouldn’t have to pick the lock every time, and he fell for it.

this whole lying to felix thing and the huge heist big sis had planned was really conflicting.

the handsome prince and his kind family didn’t deserve what was coming for them, but then again big sis gave you a life. a whole purpose.

the heist was about a month away, so you still had some time. for now, you’ll just enjoy your time with felix.

big sis decided to join in on the festivities and spent the night by the winery of course.

you ended up wandering around, eyeing all the goods you wanted, but wouldn’t touch. today was your day off, so you were going to enjoy it with felix by your side.

everything about the festival was as beautiful as felix described - the flowers were a mix of bright warm colors to match the pumpkins, the skulls were bejeweled, and the rest of the decorations were pitch black.

just your type of aesthetic.

after an hour of casually looking for him, you finally found felix in the middle of town square, but he wasn’t alone.

he was surrounded by nearly every girl in town, smiling and laughing with them.

no, you weren’t jealous - why would you be?

he was the prince, after all. that meant he was the most eligible bachelor in the entire kingdom - of course he’d be popular with the ladies.

you wouldn’t be so upset if he didn’t ask you to go to the festival with him in the first place if he was just going to socialize.

now you felt a bit foolish.

until he called out your name.

“_____!!” he screamed across the courtyard.

felix politely dismissed himself from the group before slipping past them to run to you.

“hey!” he gasped, slightly out of breath. “just in time!”

“you didn’t have to leave them to run to me,” you muttered embarrassingly. you shrunk a bit in front of felix to hide yourself from the glaring group of girls.

“but i want to be with you.”

you blushed deeply. what a charming prince. “you’re cute."

felix was the shy one now and walked ahead of you in some random direction. “let’s go!”

“but who are they?” you couldn’t help but ask after catching up. “are they your suitors?”

“yes and no... technically, they all are, but i’m free to choose whom i want to marry someday.”

“what makes them a suitor? are they royalty, too?”

“no. minimum requirement is they have to live here.”

“is that so? does that make me a suitor then, too?” you teased.

“w-well, you have to be a permanent resident to be a suitor, not a traveller.”

“ah, that’s a shame. i was going to say i’m winning.”

“you wouldn’t be wrong.”

being friends with the prince definitely had its upside.

you got to know the townspeople even better than you already had and you got free stuff mostly because both felix and the shop owners refused to let you pay.

you learned a lot about felix from the town tonight.

you learned that he was a prince everyone loved dearly, that he was kind to all his people, and it was like he denounced his princely title when he was amongst his people - he wanted to be just like everyone else.

“thank you, mr. choi,” felix bowed respectfully to the baker. “you always know my favorite snacks.”

“it’s really good!” you beamed happily after biting into the pastry.

“you never have to be so formal with me, your highness,” the baker chuckled. “you’re the prince, for god’s sake!”

“but i want to,” he pouted.

“well, i’m just glad i even had any of these left. i’ve been running really low on ingredients and stuff lately, and you know what’s crazy? so has everyone else! the han’s don’t have much metal left for weapons, the park fish market has been low on inventory, and the kwon winery got hit the worst! i’m surprised they’re open right now...”

“what are you saying?” felix asked, concern written all over his freckly face.

“the whole town thinks we have a thief.”

whoops.

now that a thief was being suspected, you’d have to lay off for a little while, but you don’t think it’ll be a problem.

“a thief? in our kingdom?”

“that’s what it looks like, doesn’t it?”

“i’ll alert my father immediately.”

“thank you, your highness. you’re so kind.”

for a moment, felix was frustrated and angry at himself that he didn’t even suspect anything bad was going on in his kingdom in the first place.

but when he looked at you, his anger seemed to melt away.

that night, you learned that felix adored you.

whenever you were talking to the shop owners, browsing through all the products, or bending down to talk to some children, whatever you were doing, his eyes were glued to you.

under the glow of all the string lights, you were even more beautiful the day he met you - now that he could see you clearly, of course.

everyone saw it. the town, his suitors, even you caught him looking at you a couple of times, but he wouldn’t look away from embarrassment.

his smile would widen to a cheesy grin then he’d look away.

who knew in such a short amount of time you’d get the loving prince to fall for you day-by-day, all because you fed cats together.

after the shops closed and people were turning in for the night you tugged on the prince’s sleeve.

“do you know what time it is ~?” you sang.

“our favorite past time together ~”

“our only past time together...”

“we can always change that.”

the cats meowed their song and felix treated them all to real fish and chicken instead of that kibble stuff he’d usually give them.

you couldn’t help but notices how furrowed his brows were which clearly meant he was thinking about the whole thief thing.

guilt was rising in your chest and now you were nervous.

“are you ok?” you asked him.

“yeah... no. no, i’m not. the thief thing is going to be on my mind all the time until they’re caught. god, i’m so angry! who would steal from these good, honest people!?”

“a terrible person...”

“you’re right.”

“do you have any idea who it might be?”

“no idea. what i do know is that they’re smart and highly skilled. there’s no way i’m going to find them...”

you take felix’s balled-up fists in your hands and he immediately relaxes upon your touch.

you can tell he’s unsure and nervous of what you’re doing, but you simply hold onto his hands and you receive a gentle squeeze in return.

“don’t worry too much, ok? it’s not your fault this is happening.”

“i know, it just... sucks...”

“you’ll catch them.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

felix released one of his hands to tuck some stray hairs behind your ear and kept his hand to your cheek afterwards, his thumb drawing gentle lines on the apples of your cheeks.

he looked at you like he wanted to kiss you, but he held himself back.

“hey, so there’s party that’s coming up that my father’s going...” he trailed off.

this was it. this was yours and big sis’s ticket into the last heist.

why weren’t you excited?

“it’s for his birthday and it’s an invite only,” he continued. “would you like to go with me?”

“hm, i don’t know ~” you teased. “will your suitors be there, too?”

felix rolled his eyes playfully. “yes, some of them will be, but i want to be by your side the whole night.”

“really...?”

“really.” he pulled out a formal invitation in fancy parchment and handed it to you. “will you go? please?”

“on one condition.”

“anything for you.”

“can i bring my sister? i rarely see her these days, since i spend all my free time with you.”

“of course she can come.”

“then i’ll be there, your highness.”

when you came home to your big sis, you threw the invitation on the table and nearly burst into tears.

“i can’t do it,” you muttered.

“what?” she seethed. “we’re so close! you put in so much work already!”

“the town already suspects a thief is here and taking their stuff, we’ll be caught and execute right away!”

“you knew the dangers coming into this, why are you surprised?”

and then it clicked in her head.

“you love him, don’t you?” she scoffed.

you don’t say anything.

“foolish girl. even if he does love you back, what will happen? you’ll leave me in the dust to marry him and live here happily ever after? what makes you think he’d love some lowlife traveller, hm? when he’s got suitors lined up for miles?”

god, you really wish she didn’t say that.

“listen. this is our last heist together. help me steal from the king, and i’ll leave you be here to live off your fantasy. but if you don’t i’ll tell him everything. your whole life, your purpose here, that you’re the thief - everything. so will you help me, or not?”

you only nod as a response.

“good girl.”

it was the night of the big party and you and big sis were dressed to the nines, thanks to the jewelry shops in town.

felix’s castle was beautiful. you could only ever dream of living in a place like this.

the great hall was decorated with all of the king’s favorite flowers and candles and all of the tables had piles and piles of meat on it, ready to be devoured.

big sis mindlessly made her way towards the king, where she’d wish him a happy birthday and the plan would move on from there.

just when the anxiety of being alone was creeping up on you, a hand swooped in to lace itself with yours.

a handsome felix looked down at you adoringly with sparkles in his eyes, drinking in every centimeter of beauty that was you.

“hi,” he said breathlessly. he bowed down and kissed the back of your hand like a true prince.

“your highness, you’re so charming ~” you gasped.

“only with you. shall we?”

you and felix sat at the far ends of the table where his parents also sat.

big sis sat right next to the king, playing with the vial of love potion under the table, smirking in the process.

she must have slipped it in already.

you still held onto felix’s hand before the dinner commenced and you must have been unconsciously squeezing it tighter and tighter as time passed because he’d steal side glances of concern at you from time to time.

you’d then immediately loosen your grip and give him a reassuring smile in return.

the air inside the castle was suffocating.

“a toast!” the king began, standing up and holding up his poisoned goblet. everyone soon followed his suit. “thank you all for coming to celebrate my special day. let’s eat and drink well tonight! cheers!”

“cheers!”

and so the king drank the potion.

the food was amazing - you expected nothing less from a king himself. but it was hard to enjoy it when you were eyeing the king and big sis talking the whole night.

when dinner was over, the real party started, and you thought maybe in the pool of all these people, you’d be able to slip away from big sis and never come back -

“will you dance with me?” felix asked.

he held out his hand for you to take and who were you to refuse an offer you once dreamed about when you were a little girl?

gladly, you took his hand and he guided you to the middle of the dance floor where he laid one hand on your waist and another held your own and you immersed yourself in this waltz.

“i didn’t take you as someone who knew how to dance,” you noted.

“it’s part of the princely package.”

the music had slowed and so did you and felix. now his hands were on your waist and he held you close, hoping you’d never slip away.

“when do you leave?” he asked the dreaded question.

“soon.”

“don’t.”

“what do you mean...?”

“i mean don’t leave. stay here, with me.”

“i can’t.”

“why not?” he begged. “do you not want to?”

“no! of course i want to, i just... i don’t think this was meant to be.”

“what...?”

from behind felix, you saw big sis whisking away the king to god knows where - probably to his chamber, where she’d tie him up while you and her did the dirty work.

you needed to stop her fast.

“stay here, i’ll be right back,” you said, breaking away from felix’s iron grip.

“where are you going!?”

“somewhere! i’ll be back, i promise.”

like a tragic ending to a fairy tale, felix watched you slip away into the empty mass of the castle. for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to follow you.

what was the point, anyways? when you didn’t want to stay here with him.

but your answer was so vague, what was he supposed to think of it?

before it was too late, felix ran off to find you.

it was easy to navigate around the giant castle when there were clear signs of how to get to the royal chambers. you figured the well-lit and finely-decorated pathways led the way to them.

from outside of what you assumed was the king’s master chamber, you heard the king muffle something you couldn’t understand.

she must have already tied him up.

you kicked the door open, only to reveal the king alone in the room.

“fuck,” you cursed. before anyone could see, you began untying the frightened king.

“_____...?”

your heart dropped when you saw felix standing in the doorway, looking confused.

“what are you doing?” he asked.

you ignored his question. “help me untie your father.”

he did as you told in silence, trying to piece together what or who you were. you weren’t telling him something, but he’ll figure it out soon.

conveniently, the king kept a crossbow near his bed for protection. so you took it and a bunch of arrows, ready to do something you thought you’d never have to do.

“what are you doing with that!?” the prince demanded after he released his coughing father.

“i’ll explain later -”

“no, explain it to me now.” felix was angry now, and you were frightened, but you had to remind yourself you were doing this for him.

“follow me. we don’t have much time.”

you left the chamber with felix following closely behind you, confused and frustrated.

“you have to tell me where you keep your everything - your coins, jewelry, gold - all of it, where do you keep it?” you asked frantically.

“why?”

“because the thief is here and we’re going to catch her.”

“what!?” he shrieked. “everything’s kept in a safe in the dungeon -”

“show me.”

felix led you a long journey to the dungeon to which you assumed you’d be calling home by the end of the night when felix found you out.

but that was the consequence of the heist, and you knew that.

the safe door was huge and opened just a crack where light shone through the opening. from just outside, you could hear big sis fumbling around, stuffing whatever she could in whatever carrier she brought with her.

you opened the safe just a bit more and aimed the crossbow right at her head.

her manic laughter echoed through the safe and beyond the dungeon, sounding like an evil witch or sorceress. even felix was frightened of her.

“has it really come to this?” she asked, looking at you straight in the eyes. “you wouldn’t really do this to me, would you? to me, your big sis?”

“what is she talking about?” felix asked.

“oh, your highness! don’t you know? _____’s the thief! we’re in this together!”

“what? _____, tell me she’s lying...”

you didn’t say anything.

“she did all ~ the stealing herself,” she sang. “of course, i was the mastermind behind all of this, but she did the dirty work! she really fooled you, huh? but like every fairytale, the thief fell in love with the prince, and now she’d do anything for him. even kill the one person who gave here life purpose.”

if big sis loved you as much as you loved her, you would have been more conflicted about your choices. but she didn’t and she only used you to survive off of the things you stole from good people.

you’ve never pulled the trigger on someone so quickly.

the arrow lodged right through her skull and she fell to the ground with a loud thud.

you dropped the crossbow and turned back to look at felix, hoping you could finally explain yourself.

but he wasn’t there.

so now you were alone again, at least for a couple of minutes before the guards got there to take you away and lock you in the dungeon, just as you predicted.

the cell was cold, dark, and lonely, but even this was more than you deserved.

you’re not sure how many days have passed by now, but you’d hope at least one of those days felix would have visited you, wanting an answer.

but he never did, and you didn’t blame him.

on what you assumed was the fifth day, your cell opened, and a few guards picked you up and dragged you out without any explanation.

when you left the dungeon, you’ve never been so happy to see the sun shining.

the guards took you to the great hall where the king, the queen, and felix sat on their thrones patiently waiting for you.

you were too embarrassed to even look at him, but his gaze bore holes into you, as if he was demanding you look at him.

so you did, just for a second, and in that moment you saw how hurt and disappointed he was at you.

you were thrown to your knees in front of the royal family.

“miss _____, is it?” the kind king asked.

“yes, sir.”

“it has come to my attention that you are the one that has been stealing from all the shops in town, is that correct?”

“yes, sir.”

“i see... normally, the sentence for something like this would be execution, but you did save my life and eliminated the woman behind all of is. for that, i owe you, so you are free to stay in this kingdom. if you are caught stealing again, you will be sentenced to death, is that clear?”

“yes, sir.”

“excellent. now get out of my sight.”

you struggled to get up, not used to using your legs just yet as you spent five days sitting on concrete.

the guards unshackled you, revealing bloody wrists and ankles.

you were free - from big sis, from the life you once live, from everything.

it should feel amazing. and it does at first, but now you’re alone again.

you have to leave.

after washing out the scum for nearly an hour, you were good as new, with only the scars left on your skin. you packed up anything that you could in a backpack, along with some of the stuff you stole, since it wasn’t like you were going to give it back.

you locked up the place and made your way towards the kingdom gates, ready to leave and never come back.

“you lied about where you lived, too?” you heard felix say from behind. “is your name even _____?”

you paused, turning around to see felix jogging up to you from down the street, where you told him you lived.

as he approached, your gaze was set on the floor, where it belonged.

“so you’re just going to leave without explaining anything to me? without saying goodbye? nothing?”

tears welled up in your eyes. how could you explain it to him? in what way could you explain this whole thing and have him understand? you didn’t think you even deserved a goodbye from him, so what was the point?

“say something,” he demanded.

“i can’t stay,” you muttered. “it’s not fair to you.”

“if i said i want you to stay, will you stay?”

“what?” you cried out. “i stole from you and i lied to you, why would you want that?”

“because you love me, don’t you?” felix’s voice was desperate, hoping that was the one thing you couldn’t have lied to him about. “i know that’s not a lie, am i right? tell me you love me, too.”

“of course i love you.”

“then if you love me, you’ll stay, right?”

“felix -”

“please,” he begged. he held your face in his hands and gently lifted your face up forcing you to look at him. “just stay for a while longer. we’ll talk about everything, just... please don’t go.”

“ok,” you nodded. “i’ll stay.”

felix let out a huge sigh of relief, pressing a long, loving kiss to your forehead.

“good. will you show me where you actually live now?”

the night was spent inside your humble home telling the story of your entire life before and during your time with big sis.

whether he understood why you are the way you are or not, you’re still unsure, but falling asleep wrapped up in felix’s arms had to have been a good sign, right?

#felix #lee felix #skz #stray kids #skz felix #stray kids felix #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #royal au #these.... keep getting longer LMAo #i know i already did a thief and a prince trop #but idk i was inspired #blease tell me what you think cuz i tought this was meh i focused a lot on the reader and not so much felix :(

[theroyalweisme]

Duties of a Prince - Chapter 9 - Leo x Liam x MC

A little AU of what would have happened at Leo’s fling before the social season to determine his bride kicks off.

Rating: For mature audiences… language and themes as the story continues.

A/N - Duties may or may not (depending on how quickly I can get more written) be on a slight hiatus... At the minimum, there will be a chapter up next Saturday.

(A RoE and TRR Crossover)

Summary:

Two brothers who couldn’t be more different if they tried. One out to be the life of the party. The other understanding both of they’re roles and determined to fulfill them all. But what happens when they fall for the same girl?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Tagging: @youwontlikewherewewillgo @captainkingliam @chrstbll @pens-girl-87 @mfackenthal @xxrainbowprincessxx @queencatherynerhys @syltti78 @boneandfur @ranishajay @decisso @blackcatkita @trianiasti @bobasheebaby @pbchoicesobsessed @madaraism

The world around her was too hot as she blinked her eyes open. The colours were wrong for her bedroom. Too many soft pastels and ornate gold accents everywhere. A strong arm draped around her waist causing a soft smile to play on her lips. Liam.

Slowly she moved to slide out of the bed, trying not to jostle the figure beside her, resting the arm on the bed where she was lying before. She snagged his starch white button down shirt off the floor and pulled her arms through the overly long sleeves, pausing as the sleeping man snuggled deeper into the plush bedding.

Sabrina smiled softly, chewing on her lower lip as she finished fastening the buttons on the shirt and headed out in search of coffee and food.

“Ahhh… the princess emerges from the confines of her capture.” Leo’s voice called from the kitchen table as he flipped a page of the newspaper in his hands.

“Is it really capture if I was enjoying it?” Her lips curled into a soft smile, memories of the previous night bringing heat to her cheeks.

“I don’t want to know, Beautiful…” Leo groaned, dropping the paper to cover his ears.

“I’m not the kind of girl to kiss and tell, Pretty Boy. Your virgin ears are safe.” She laughed, sliding a coffee mug under the machine and starting the brewing process. She pulled the full mug out from under the machine, breathing in the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Leo watched her over the newspaper as the blond brought the mug to her pretty soft pink lips. His throat cleared as he went back to focusing on page 6 of the paper. Trying to ignore the content sigh exiting the gorgeous woman’s lips as he read the same line in the same article for the ninth time. His traitorous eyes continued to glance up at the woman who seemed to have taken up real estate across the table from him. Her bare leg curled up into her chest, her coffee mug perched on the top of her knee. Those same traitorous eyes traveled across her bare skin and up her arms, draped by his younger brother’s shirt. Of course, she had to pick Liam. His mind seethed as his gaze paused on her long, lean neck, working as she took a long drink of her coffee. His mind filled with the thought of his lips against her delicate skin, sucking at the spot that her neck met her jaw, or that sensitive skin just below her ear, or the swell of her breasts peeking through the open neck of the dress shirt.

“Mind passing me World News?” Her voice cut through his salacious thoughts. Shifting surreptitiously, he cleared his throat passing the requested section to her.

The pair sat in comfortable silence, Sabrina focused deeply on the paper in front of her, Leo stealing small glances at the woman across from him. A heavy sigh accidentally escaped his lips as a pair of arms snaked their way around her.

“Good morning,” Liam’s voice, still husky from sleep, filled the dining room as he placed a soft kiss on the side of Sabrina’s neck, just below her ear. Damn him… Leo thought, trying to pull himself back to the article in front of him.

“Morning,” she smiled back at him, leaning in for a quick kiss. “How’d you sleep?”

“Best sleep in a long time,” he whispered against her lips. “Must have had something to do with the beautiful woman sleeping next to me.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she grinned, his arms tightening around her.

“Well!” Leo’s voice broke through the couple’s reverie, their eyes shifting to the other brother. “I don’t know about you love birds, but I��m starving.”

“Food would be good,” Sabrina grinned. “Pancakes maybe?”

A shared smile passed between the couple across from him, making him contain a heavy eye roll.

“Sound delicious,” Liam grinned into the side of her neck. “You smell good enough to eat… Maybe I’ll just have you for breakfast.”

Sabrina’s laughter felt like a punch to Leo’s gut as she playfully gave the younger man’s arm a swat. Having enough of their playful banter, Leo pushed his chair away from the table.

“Ok… Well… the restaurant downstairs is holding a table for me. I’ll catch you two later. Dinner tonight, Liam?” Liam’s eyebrows knit together in confusion at his brother. “It is our last night after all.”

“Of course, Leo,” Liam’s voice carried a hidden note of annoyance at his brother for tipping his hand with Sabrina. “I’ll make sure Drake and Bertrand are available.”

Leo nodded curtly at the duo before making his hasty exit, the door closing loudly behind him.

“You’re going home tomorrow?” Her face fell momentarily before she placed a winning smile on her lips. But Liam could see the smile no longer reached her eyes.

“Unfortunately, we have to,” he brushed the blond curls from her forehead. “Leo’s social season starts shortly and I have obligations that have been neglected.”

“I get it…” her smile faltered as his thumb traced her cheekbone. “Hey, it was fun while it lasted, right?”

Her shoulders shrugged softly, his heart aching at the sadness in her eyes.

“Well... you could always join us...” his suggestion was tentative at best. His deep blue eyes hopeful as he watched her ice blue ones for a reaction.

“As much as I’d love to, my Mickey Blue Eyes... I have a life here,” her palm rested gently on his stubble covered cheek. “A job I tolerate... friends... a pitty that needs me... a dad I barely talk to.”

He chuckled softly, nuzzling into her palm.

“I can’t imagine leaving you here, Sabrina,” his voice barely above a whisper as he planted a soft kiss on her palm. “Please, consider it?”

“I can’t, Liam... my life is here.” A tear escaped her eye, caught by his thumb before it fell from her chin. “I’m sorry...”

He cleared his throat roughly, pulling away from pretty blond made even prettier by wearing his shirt.

“I know...” he sighed. “We should get you back... you work tonight right?”

“Yup,” she smiled, pulling her fingers under her eyes to rid herself of any remaining tears. “And Killer will be looking for her morning walk. Gimme two minutes... I’ll just change quickly.”

Putting on a brave face she hopped off of the chair, planted a soft kiss on his full, ripe lips and disappeared into the bedroom.

Fuck... his mind wandered to the woman on the other side of the closed door. He had to fucking go there. He had to force my fucking hand.

What was he going to do? There was no way he could let this woman go now.

—

The lighter flicked on in front of the cigarette sitting between his lips. Cold blue eyes stared out from the hardened face at the nervous young man in front of him.

“You were supposed to protect her, Joshua,” the gravelly voice broke the silence of the room as the young man shifted uncomfortably. “And yet she appeared with an injury.”

“It’s not my fault, boss, honestly!” Josh pleaded, leaning towards the intimating figure behind the large oak desk. The man held his hand up to silence the weak attempt at an apology.

“My daughter has a strong will, I’m aware.” His eyes grew even colder as he watched his employee closely. “I chose you for your relationship with her. You were her friend, Joshua. She trusted you once. I need to know I can trust you with her.”

“You can, boss! You know you can,” Josh’s head nodded emphatically at his statement. “She’s working tonight... it’s Saturday... I’ll make sure the creeps are kept in place. No one will touch her.”

“See that that’s the case,” the man nodded, taking a long drag from his cigarette as the young man stood from his chair to go. He was most of the way out of the room before the last point was driven home. “I’m being generous here, Joshua. Do not disappoint me again.”

Josh’s throat worked harshly, suddenly bone dry as he swallowed. He nodded slightly before dipping back out the door.

The man behind the desk sighed deeply, pushing the cigarette out in the ashtray in front of him before picking up the phone and dialing a number he had numerous times over the last year.

“Coilin,” the voice on the other end answered quickly. “I wasn’t expecting this call. Did things not go well with Liam?”

“No, Constantine, the meeting with your son was fine,” Coilin pushed back in his chair, turning to look out of the window at the harbour. “However, we seem to have an issue beginning on our hands. Your son and my daughter have become quite close.”

Laughter filled the line causing a scowl to form on Coilin’s mouth.

“Leo has always had a way with women, Coilin,” Constantine chuckled, brushing off the other man’s concern. “He’ll do what’s expected of him when he comes home.”

“I’d have less issues if the culprit were Leo, Constantine,” Coilin’s voice bit through the line. “It’s your younger boy. Liam. This is not working within my plans for her.”

“Coilin, you worry too much. The boys are coming home tomorrow,” Constantine’s reassurance did little to reassure the Irishman. “Liam will be out of her life soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right, my friend,” he sighed deeply, turning back to the ledger on his desk. “Now, shall we discuss this export tax legislation you’re trying to work around?”

“Of course, as you know the Italians are struggling with the proposed changes,” Coilin’s lips turned up in a smile as he lit a new cigarette.

“They won’t be a problem for long,” he promised as he took a long drag.

#choices stories you play #choices the royal romance #choices: stories you play fanfics #choices: the royal romance #choices: the royal romance fanfics #roe #trr #liam x mc #leo x mc #princes #brothers rys