#anyway my queue is full for another day now

[iggy-hands]

Stede's crew meeting Ed's crew tbqh (insp)

#i saw this a while back and this was my instant thought lol #idk how else to word this because i dont know who is kurt in this situation in particular because it could be so many of those fruits #ofmd #glee #<- for blocking reasons #woes of emily #ask to tag #??? #anyway my queue is full for another day now #the weird posting continues #i might actually rewatch it soon #we shall see

[bookshelf-dust]

when it's rainin'

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,666 ;)

warnings: swearing, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, kinda newly established relationship, a few sexual innuendos, fluff

a/n: hi! this was very self-indulgent for me and i am decidedly dedicating this fic to all of my fellow thunderstorm fearers. i see you. i am you. i hope this isn't too bad. i revised it too many times and i'm still feeling a little fretful over it. also, the title is a fleetwood mac lyric. bite me. anyways, please let me know what you think! mwah mwah i love you <333

————

“Billy, I gotta get going.”

You squeeze the fat of his thigh where it’s draped over both of your legs. He takes hold of your wrist; his grip gentle, if not a little teasing. 

He turns to look at you, head lolling against the back of the couch. His hair is pushed up messily behind him on the cushion. You know that if he were to sit up, it’d be matted in the way that it gets when he lays on it for too long. 

Billy knows the cogs in your brain are at work. The beginnings of a cocky smirk play at the corners of his mouth. He furrows his brow, faux concern written all across his face, as if something’s wrong. 

“But it’s rainin’, baby.” He gives his head a little shake, like he can’t believe you’d leave in weather like this.

His smirk is in full bloom when he laces his fingers with yours and lifts your hand up to his mouth. You turn to look out the window and feel him press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He’s buttering you up and you know it. 

“It’s just rain, Hargrove. And I do know how to drive.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the rain picks up, enough so that you can hear it pounding against the roof. 

Billy laughs, low and sweet. You glare at him.

“Fine. I’ll wait it out.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, peeling his leg off of yours and repositioning himself on the couch. He leans up against the arm, and holds his own out to you. You know what he’s doing, so you oblige. 

Billy loves to watch storms, and holding you this way makes for a better view out the window. You lean into him, back pressed to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck. 

There’s a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder that follows seems to shake the earth itself. Your stomach drops. This is exactly what you hadn’t wanted to happen, and now you’re stuck here, with Billy, internally panicking over a thunderstorm. Admittedly, you do feel a bit safer than you would alone in your bedroom, but this fear isn’t exactly something you share with others. 

“You can’t drive home in that,” he argues. 

You grab hold of Billy’s forearms, his skin warm under your palms. “I said I’d wait it out,” you mumble. 

He kisses the side of your throat, and it’s the kind of kiss you might feel lingering there for the rest of the day. Like his lips have left a searing brand against your skin. 

“You could just stay,” he drawls. 

“Billy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and moves his face back from you. “Yeah, I know. You don’t love me.”

You let yourself slide further down the couch until your head rests on Billy’s tummy. He doesn’t let go of you though, hands rubbing over your collarbones. “That’s not fair.”

It thunders then, at a volume you couldn’t have expected. It rattles both you and the windows, making you jump. 

“You okay?” Billy’s tone is sincere. 

You sit back up a little bit, and he uses the leverage to pull you into him. He wraps his arms around you completely, enveloping you in warmth and the scent of his body wash. The gesture is protective. He can see the way you glance out the window, and he thinks you might be looking for that flash, that queue for another rumble. 

“‘M fine. Scared me is all.”

Your grip on Billy’s knee says otherwise. He thinks he understands.

“I’ve never been with you during a storm before. You don’t like ‘em?”

You glance back at him. The concern on his face is genuine this time, but you can still see that underlying tendency to tease, like he’s ready to use it when he feels necessary. 

“Rain is fine,” you start. “I love it, actually. It’s just when it gets like this, when you can’t see down the driveway anymore and it’s windy. I really don’t like the wind.”

It is pretty damn windy. Billy hadn’t noticed it until you pointed it out. It makes him glad he parked under the carport today, knowing this is the kind of storm that leaves a mess behind. 

You’re starting to panic, not only because you’ve just told Billy about your childish fear, but also because you don’t know what kind of weather they’re calling for. You live in Indiana, for fucks sake. You don’t like that all of this is out of your control, that there’s nothing you can do but wait it out. 

“Hey, look at me.” Billy says, voice low and enticing. It pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. Your fingers are cold where they press into his legs. You twist around to face him and his hands meet your cheeks. His eyes are boring into yours. 

He kisses you. It’s slow, measured. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and demands your full attention. 

You realize too late that it’s a distraction. You don’t jump when it thunders this time. 

Billy pulls away, pleased with the blissed out look on your face. With the fact that he’s seemingly calmed you down for the moment. 

“That sweatshirt you like is on my bed. Why don’t you go get it, huh?”

You nod and he steadies you when you climb off of him and the couch. Billy wants to look at the weather, but he also wants to take care of you. He’s not letting you drive home tonight. 

You slip down the hall and Billy uses the time to flip the channel, assuming the weather will be on. 

You find his sweatshirt where he told you it’d be and stop at the foot of his bed, pulling it on over your head. It smells like him. Not like his cologne or cigarettes, but like the Billy who took a shower and got cold, who fell asleep earlier than usual and slept in more clothes than he ever has—this sweatshirt included. 

You see the lightning this time and are able to brace yourself for the thunderclap that follows. You still scramble back to the living room, seeking refuge in Billy. 

Your footsteps are quiet despite your panic, and Billy only notices you’ve entered the room because he’d sat up firmly against the back of the couch. You’re chewing on your lip, staring at the warnings flying across the screen. “What’d it say?” 

Billy turns the tv off. “Nothing bad baby, promise.” He holds out his hands and scoots to the edge of his seat, pulling you to stand in between his legs. He closes them against your own, gently trapping you there. “Just that it was gonna be stormy the rest of the night.”

Your brow furrows. “It’s not gonna let up?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” This time you catch the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. Clearly he’s happy with himself and the weather. 

Billy’s always loved these kinds of storms, and he hates that you don’t, but if he can get rain and his baby to spend the night all in one go? He’ll be pretty damn content. 

You realize that you should’ve watched the weather report this morning, but it seems that when you know you’ll be spending time with Billy, he’s the only thing that occupies your brain. 

“Dammit,” you say. 

Billy squeezes at your hips, and it makes you look down at him. There’s a pout on his face: the crease between his brows deepening, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit. He squeezes harder now that he’s got your attention. 

“Something wrong with staying here? You really wanna go home that bad?” 

Billy’s teasing and you know it. You know that he’d let you go if you actually wanted to, that he’d worry until you got home and called him to say you were okay. You also know that he wants you to stay, and you’ve known that since you got to his place and saw the relief on his face. Hell, he hasn’t stopped touching you since then either. He’s plenty needy today. 

You cup his face with your hands, swipe your thumb over the smattering of freckles under his eye. His fingers have made their way under the hem of your (his) shirt and are pressing into your skin. 

“I didn’t say that. I just told my parents that I wouldn’t be home too late.”

“So call and say you’re staying the night, that you don’t want to drive home in this weather.”

You decide then that maybe you don’t need to overthink this so much. That maybe you shouldn’t let your brain ruin what could be a nice night. 

“Okay.”

Billy blinks up at you.

You move away from him and then you’re picking up the phone from its place on the wall, punching in your home number. 

Billy can’t believe that worked. You never listen to him. And clearly you recognize this given that you’re hiding a grin with the back of your hand as you talk. The phone call is over quickly, and when you walk back over to him, Billy pulls you down into his lap. Your fingers find their way into his hair before you can even think about it. 

“Have I behaved better than I thought?” Billy asks, tentatively rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You grin at him and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s warmer than it should be, because somehow you’ve managed to fluster him. 

“You keep giving me your pitiful little looks, Billy.”

He scoffs. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy.”

He blushes. Goddamnit, Billy thinks. You can read him much too easily now. He’s really fucked. 

Billy exhales. “I’ve wanted you to stay the night for weeks. But you always had to be home or somethin’. And the storm seems to be working in my favor tonight, y’know?” He gives you this look then, his eyes traveling across your face, down your neck and back up. He bats his lashes at you and you slap him on the shoulder. 

He acts as though he’s appalled, grabbing you by the waist and maneuvering you off of him and onto the couch. Billy braces himself against the cushions and hovers over top of you. “Now that was just rude.”

“You deserved it,” you bite back, leaning up to swipe the tip of your tongue across the end of his nose. “Hate it when you flirt with me.”

Billy rolls his eyes and lets his weight drop down on top of you, causing you to voice an audible oof. 

He props himself up on his elbows, face inches from yours. “Mhm. Hate it when your boyfriend flirts with you. I believe it.”

You start to say something, something he knows will be a smartass remark, so Billy presses his lips to yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You make a noise of surprise and Billy starts to laugh against your mouth, a low chuckle that makes you want to both keep kissing him and shove him on the floor. 

Billy pulls away to press kisses to both of your cheeks and the center of your throat. You’re lost in his affection when it thunders again, making you jolt underneath him. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek. “Hey. S’okay.”

You start to nod when the lights flicker, and you swear your heart falls out of your ass. Please don’t let the power go out, you think. He can read the panic on your face. 

“Okay,” Billy grunts, pushing himself to stand. “New plan.”

You sit up, and Billy quickly hooks one arm around your back, the other under your thighs. He hoists you up and over his shoulder, making you squeal with how swift the action is. But you don’t protest, and only hope that he won’t drop you on the way to his next destination.

Billy sets you down on his bed.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, running your hands down your face. You realize too quickly the opening you’ve given him.

He leans in to kiss your forehead, though he pulls away and lets his mouth linger over the shell of your ear. 

“You can ride anytime you want, baby.”

You fall back onto his mattress. “Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You hold back a groan at his antics. “I really should’ve gone home.” 

Billy laughs and lands a playful smack to the side of your thigh before moving towards his dresser. 

You push up on your elbows to watch him sort through his clothes. He grabs a couple things and brings them to you before pulling his own shirt off over his head. 

“Why are you stripping?” You question, looking over the shirt and shorts he’d handed you. 

“If you think that’s stripping, clearly I haven’t been good enough to you,” Billy snorts.

You grin up at him. “Are these for me?” you ask, holding onto the bundle of fabric in your hands. 

“Mhm. For you to sleep in.”

You nod hesitantly, having just seen a flash outside of Billy’s window. This time the rumble is just that, not a clap, not enough to rattle the windows in their frames. 

Billy moves towards his door, with the promise of getting more blankets, allowing you a moment to change. He comes back with water for you, too.

He kicks the door closed behind him, internally melting at the sight of you in his clothes. You’re so pretty, it physically hurts him. He’s never felt that way in his life. 

Billy gets you to drink some for him before you’re scooting further into his bed and he’s kicking off his sweats. 

You watch him move around the room, the way the muscles of his back move as he’s shutting blinds and pulling makeshift curtains closed. He turns off the overhead light, leaving only that coming from the lamps he has. 

You’re in awe of how easy it is for him to take care of you. How he didn’t pester you for being afraid of the storm but instead has comforted you and seems dedicated to keeping you safe. 

Billy finally slips into bed beside you. “What are we doing?” you ask, eyeing his torso while he settles in. He pretends not to notice. 

“I’m protecting you from the big bad storm, baby.” He kisses your hairline. 

You smile at him, one of pure joy that starts slow and grows brilliantly. The both of you are bundled up like it’s some big sleepover, or like you’ve stayed up hiding a book beneath the sheets. 

“Well, I’m not sleepy. So what’d you wanna do? Tell secrets?” 

Billy props his head up, palm cradling the base of his skull, elbow squishing his pillow. He laughs and squeezes at your hip. 

“Trivia? Talk about boys?” you continue. 

He shakes his head, his smile matching yours and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Sometimes he can’t believe he landed you. “You got a boy you wanna talk about?”

You snort. “Mhm. There’s one I like. He’s pretty but super grumpy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I think trivia might be better since you’re just going to bully me.” 

Billy flops down on his back. You push up so you can hover over him. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Billy rolls his eyes but kisses you again, pulling your face down to meet his, mouth warm against yours. The next round of thunder is louder than the last and your heart rate picks up, but with him here it feels okay.

It’s hard not to feel safe when he takes such good care of you, when he’s warm enough that everything feels protected, like you could weather any storm with him and his smart ass mouth.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson (for being such a gem and helping me)

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove oneshot #savannah’s fics

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Broken Pieces

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Words: 5,3k

Warnings: protective bff & bias wrecker Choi Seungcheol; adult language; dumb and dumber, featuring awkward interactions.

[Soulmate AU] Your friend broke your soulmate's heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of both his and your own heart.

(A spin-off / sequel to my soulmate!Kwon Soonyoung fic: "Right? Right.")

Your soulmate mark was a cat – just as your grandmother had predicted. Perhaps she knew what was good for you, perhaps she just knew you – either way she had been correct.

It was a doodle of a small fluffy cat who always seemed to be either busy or sleeping. Just like the marks of your friends, the cat went about its day on your wrist like an alive tattoo. Sometimes it slept, sometimes it read a book, sometimes it played piano – you wondered if your soulmate did the same.

The mark appeared on your sixteenth birthday and while you hoped you’d find your soulmate soon, it would be years until you saw him for the first time.

Your second year at university. That is when you met Lee Jihoon – handsome, soft-spoken, full of smiles and hope. He had chosen the same minor subject as you. 

At first you thought he was just another guy you’d have a crush on – just a hopeless short-term fantasy until you’d find the perfect person. But you were proven wrong four weeks into knowing him.

“Woah, careful there,” he spoke as he gently pushed you back upright after you had stumbled in the café. Queues are dangerous, you knew that already, but suddenly they were also a blessing. 

The moment his fingers touched your skin, a jolt of electricity ran through you. He seemed to pay it no mind, only offering you a friendly smile before turning back to his girlfriend. 

When you looked at your mark, the cat was clawing as if to break out of your skin and run to him. When you glanced at his wrist, a similar doodle – a spotted cat – was just as excited to meet your mark.

That was when you knew – Lee Jihoon was your soulmate. 

But the smile he offered to her told you that you stood no chance. Even if the fates had meant for you to meet and fall in love, your heart seemed to be meant to break. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night – whether from heartbreak or from the joy of finally finding him, you weren’t sure.

Months passed of just watching him. You didn’t dare to make conversation, didn’t dare to even look at him for long. Your heart ached for him. 

It was unfair to break his heart for stupid revenge. It was unfair to do his heart any harm at all. He deserved better.

Jihoon’s heart that held so much love once, and now you wondered if he would ever be able to feel love again at all – you didn’t think you would. Even just watching his heart break from the sidelines had been too painful. 

“Have you considered talking to him for a change?” Seungcheol suggested when he caught you staring at Jihoon at lunch. You failed to feel any amusement at his words even as he laughed at you.

Instead, you offered him a mild glare. “You think he’d want to talk to anybody after what he went through?”

“I mean,” Seungcheol thought for a moment before grimacing, “yeah, you have a point there.”

“I always have a point, Cheol,” you told him proudly and continued eating your food. “Besides, he probably wouldn’t talk to one of her friends anyway.”

Her. Han Eunmi. The girl who claimed to be his soulmate and broke his heart into a thousand pieces before you could tell him the truth and save him.

She had been your first friend at university. Her bright eyes and sweet smile were always the first to greet you in lectures. She always saved you a seat, even to this day. But something in her changed when she met her soulmate – you could barely recognise her anymore. Your best friend was your best friend no more.

“You should just grow some balls and tell him,” Seungcheol told you once again. He was all too familiar with the distant vengeful glint in your eyes. 

You wanted to kick him. “Says the one that still keeps covering his mark because of his commitment issues?” 

Glancing down at the near-comical amount of chain bracelets and the raccoon doodle sniffing around under them on his wrist, he pouted at your words. “I just don’t love the thought of soulmates.”

“No,” you laughed, “you just don’t like the thought of possibly getting your heart broken.”

“Then what’s your excuse?” 

Back when you first met him, you had felt so hopeful, so excited for your future. Watching him from afar was one thing, standing side-to-side with him in the café line was different. You could practically feel the fluffy cat on your wrist tugging you closer to him, scratching and jumping every time you moved your arm. 

But then she had uttered those words and your world collapsed inwards: “This is my boyfriend.” Even now you feel a little nauseous thinking about the moment: the self-satisfied smile on her face, the love-sick smile on his, his arm around her waist. You couldn’t even replay the memory in your head without wanting to cry.

You glanced towards Jihoon.

“He already got his heart broken,” you mumbled to Seungcheol dejectedly. “I don’t want to add to his problems.”

“I feel like finding his real soulmate would be the opposite of a problem for that poor guy,” Seungcheol said – no, stated. He was certain of his words. 

You wished they were true. With a sigh, you whispered, “Just leave it, Cheol. There’s no point anymore. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.”

It was obvious by the look in his eyes that Seungcheol wanted to argue. But he knew you well enough to not push it anymore.

“For this project, I need you guys to pair up,” professor Byun started, sounding about as tired as you felt in this 8 am class. Maybe he, too, craved an early coffee that he’d failed to acquire in his hurry to get to class on time. The thought made him a little more tolerable in your eyes.

“Do you guys want to pair up on your own or should I just do it myself?” he asked the class, but his eyes were practically begging you to choose the first option. Unluckily for your introvert self, the class immediately called out to pair up among themselves. He breathed out in relief just as you sighed in defeat. 

“Alright, I’ll give you guys…” He glanced at his watch and nodded. “Ten minutes to pick a partner and a movie from this list. Remember to write your names next to the movie title in the shared document on so that others know it’s taken. I’ll go and get some coffee in the meantime.”

As you looked around the lecture room, you found yourself making a wish for the floor to swallow you whole. 

No one in your limited friend group had picked this film studies class – most of them citing the 8 am time slot as the reason –, so who were you supposed to partner up with? A stranger who more than likely wouldn’t do any of the work or – even better and your personal favourite – would drop out of the course in the coming week and leave you without as much as a note. 

“Hey,” you then heard his voice and you didn’t know whether you felt nauseous from fear or excitement. You turned your head to find Jihoon standing right there, hand on the chair next to you, a tired look on his face – the same look he’d been wearing since Eunmi crushed his heart in her hands with a giggle. He took a deep hesitant breath. “Do you want to– You don’t have to but I don’t know anyone else in this class… So, maybe, you and I–”

Though a little breathless that he was even talking to you, you straightened in your seat and nodded. “Sure, we can partner up.”

A polite smile appeared on his lips before he pulled out a chair and sat next to you. He glanced at the film list projected onto the room’s screen. “So… Do you have a particular film you want to pick for this?”

You shook your head. “I was hoping you did.”

He grimaced and chuckled. “Well, at least we’re on the same page about that.”

As if we’re soulmates or something. You almost uttered those words. You were glad you caught them before they slipped out.

“Let’s–”

“Should we–”

“Oh.” He laughed. “You go first.”

“No, you.”

“No, you–” He sighed before suggesting, “First free film on the list?”

You nodded immediately. That had been your thought as well, after all. 

“So, what film is it?” he wondered, leaning over to read your laptop screen. Your rational brain wanted to shove him away; your emotional brain wanted to pull him even closer. It was hard to get anything done in that condition. 

You pulled yourself together, ignoring the sweet scent of his cologne and the almost-there tickle of his hair against yours, and scrolled through the shared document. “Let’s see… The Pianist, 2002.”

Jihoon’s brows rose in surprise. “I do love pianos.”

“I doubt it has a lot to do with pianos,” you mumbled, but didn’t need any further confirmation to put your names down next to the title. Both of your names. Next to each other. Your heart stuttered at the sight.

“It has to have at least a little bit to do with pianos,” he insisted with furrowed brows. You laughed, earning a disbelieving wide-eyed look from him. “No? You’re doubting it?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment before relaxing in his chair again. “So, when do you want to work on this project? I’m free to meet on Mondays.”

It was your turn to look at him with wide eyes, lips parting in surprise. “You… want to meet? In person?”

He blinked. “Yes? Like normal people? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no, it’s just that–” You took a deep breath under his watchful eyes. “I figured that after what happened with Eunmi, you’d–”

“Dig myself a cave to die in? Stop socialising completely?” He sighed and looked away. “Look: as long as you don’t bring her around to our meetings, we’ll be fine. I just– I don’t even want to be in the same building as her.” His gaze was sharp when he looked at you again. “And I’m only tolerating you because of this class.”

Were words supposed to hurt like that?

“So, Monday, in the library?” he spoke again as if he hadn’t just thrown a metaphorical dagger into your heart. 

You nodded. “I’ll see you Monday.”

He didn’t speak another word to you in that entire class.

Seungcheol was quick to notice your mood being more dejected than usual at lunch. Affectionate by nature, his fingers reached across the picnic table to find yours and give them a little squeeze.

The gesture only made you want to cry more: why couldn’t he be your soulmate instead?

“Did something happen in class?” he asked, eyeing you cautiously. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing.” A complete lie and even he knew it.

He called out your name in a warning tone – like a father getting ready to reprimand his rebellious child. “What happened and what can we do to fix it?”

“I don’t think there’s any way to fix anything,” you mumbled and lifted your fork to your lips to take a bite of your lunch. There was no joy in the taste of your favourite meal on this day.

Seungcheol frowned. “Is this about Jihoon again? What happened this time?” 

“He wanted to pair up for a project,” you told him and his expression morphed into a bright smile – one that screamed “See! I told you he’d see the light!” – but his face promptly dropped into a scowl when you added on, “and then he told me that he only tolerated me because of our film studies class.”

“He said that?” he spoke lowly. 

“His exact words.” It wasn’t even like he actually intentionally broke your heart. It must have been the stupid soulmate bond acting up and making you more emotional about this than necessary. “I don’t know why I’m so sad about this.”

“He’s cruel. That’s why.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though. He’s cruel and he’s dumb and he doesn’t deserve you.” He nodded his head in confirmation when you looked up at him again. 

You scoffed out a laugh. “Why do you think he’s dumb anyway? He does well in our classes.”

“He may be academically gifted but he had his soulmate under his goddamn nose this whole time and he didn’t even realise,” he practically whined. “If that’s not dumb, I’m the king of Korea.”

You contemplated for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just give up this fantasy of mine and find someone who actually likes me.”

“You– I–” His frown deepened almost comically. “That is not what I meant at all.”

“You just said–”

“Stop listening to what I say!”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank god you’re not my soulmate.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you stick around.”

Your gaze drifted to where Jihoon was seated under a maple tree with his friends. “Maybe I just have bad taste.”

[I’ll be waiting at 3 in the library. Room A232. – Jihoon]

Seungcheol mumbled something under his breath as he accompanied you to the library. Before you could ask him about it, he turned to you. “Can’t you just tell him you’re his soulmate? What’s the worst that could happen?”

You stared at him. He quickly realised the error of his words.

“I just mean that maybe he’d like to know. Maybe he’d act a little warmer towards you if he did.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting him to treat me like,” you said. “He knows me as Eunmi’s friend. As someone complicit in the worst lie of his life. He’s treating me very nice all things considered.”

“Well, he still should know,” he decided. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, big guy. I’ll see you in the journalism section in a few hours?”

He sighed. “As always. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

And just like that, he picked a direction and headed that way – to his lonely little napping spot between shelves of journalism guidebooks. It was a good thing he got along so well with the librarians.

Though you weren’t a stranger to this library, you still felt a little out of place this time. Maybe it was the nerves of meeting Jihoon again. You hadn’t seen him even once outside of the one film studies class you both took. 

Or perhaps you were just anxious about the fact that you had failed to watch the film due to reasons out of your control. Lee Jihoon was notorious for having a short fuse with his peers. You weren’t sure you could handle falling even further down his list.

The plaque on the door read A232. You double-checked it. Triple. Four times. Five–

Jihoon startled you by opening the door. “Are you going to come in or do you expect a formal invitation?”

“I… was just checking,” you mumbled and brushed past him into the little study room. You placed your things down opposite of the seat he had occupied. This was it – the end of your life. You hadn’t even said goodbye to Seungcheol. You sighed, closed your eyes in anticipation of the scolding that would follow, and confessed, “I didn’t watch the film. I’m sorry.”

You were ready for an onslaught of sharp words, the scolding of a lifetime, maybe even some screaming and him telling you that you were just as bad as Eunmi.

But it never came. 

He sat down and hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to watch it either.”

Dumbfounded, you opened your eyes to stare at him. He felt your gaze on him and looked up from his screen with an awkward tight-lipped smile. “What?”

“I thought you’d yell at me,” you spoke faster than your filter could catch. 

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”

“What now?” you thought out loud. You hadn’t prepared for this scenario, not even close.

Jihoon made faces – scrunching up his face and frowning between silly smiles and pursed lips – as he considered the options. “We could… watch it now?”

“Like, now?”

He nodded slowly. “I don’t have any plans for the next couple of hours. Do you?” You shook your head, too speechless to actually respond. “Then let’s watch it. I have a speaker somewhere in my bag– Hold on. I’ll get it.”

Your brain was severely lagging behind. You hadn’t even realised the implications of his words. Your jaw dropped. “You mean–? You want to watch it together? Here?”

“I mean,” he paused and looked at you, “I wouldn’t mind picking a different place. We could go to the courtyard. Or a café. Well, probably not a café but–”

“There’s a lounge room on the third floor,” you blurted out. “There are sofas and a vending machine.”

Jihoon brightened up at your words. “That sounds perfect. Let’s go?”

“Sure,” you breathed out, unable to believe this was happening at all. 

It took barely 5 minutes for the two of you to get to the lounge room. Jihoon was quick to occupy a three-person sofa in the corner of the room, right between the vending machine and the ceiling high window. With a victorious smile, he patted the spot next to him. 

You must have been too slow for his liking because tilted his head to the side, eyes still on you. “Did you want this spot instead? I’m okay with either. Just say the word.”

You said nothing and took the spot he had previously offered. The less you spoke, the less likely you were to piss him off – it was only logical. 

As you sat there and waited for him to set up his laptop and speaker, you glanced at your wrist. The fluffy cat on your skin was endlessly, tirelessly running towards him, looking back at you as if to convince you to reach for Jihoon. 

You looked to his wrist instead, wondering, perhaps hoping that you’d find a similar doodle trying to get to you. Even if it just glanced, just to confirm. But his soulmate mark was hidden, covered with a black wrist support.

He glanced back at you before lifting said wrist. “Are you looking at this?”

Cursing yourself for getting caught staring, you nodded and tried to act like your ears and cheeks weren’t burning. 

He shrugged. “My wrist hurts sometimes. Nothing to worry about.”

Deflecting. You knew him well enough to know that even if he was telling the truth, it was only half of one. He was lying to save his pride.

“My roommate has the same one,”  you said, deciding to go along with his narrative. “She says it doesn’t help a lot though.”

“It’s the cheapest one I could find,” he replied with a shrug before turning back to his laptop, searching for the film. “Do you live at the dorms?”

“Yep.” But he knew this already. He used to visit Eunmi there, right across the hall from you. You cleared your throat and willed the thought to go away. “That’s why I didn’t manage to watch the film. I was going to watch it over the weekend, but the dormitory wi-fi was the slowest it has ever been.”

He scoffed on your behalf. “That sounds awful. What did you do in the meantime then?”

“My roommate had to bring out the board games. So, Monopoly.”

He laughed and sat back on the sofa, leaning closer to you to hear more. “That almost sounds even worse. Any friendships ruined that night?”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” you laughed along, almost forgetting you were nervous to be around him in the first place, “we played Monopoly for two days straight. The same game. It just didn’t end. My roommate and her boyfriend are no longer on speaking terms.”

“Monopoly truly does ruin relationships.” He laughed harder, almost leaning against you entirely in the fit of giggles. “Did you win? Who won?”

“I came in third place.”

“Out of three?”

You nodded shamefully as he laughed even harder, this time fully resting his head on your shoulder. He quickly leaned away though, much to your disappointment, but his giggles never ceased. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

Despite the shared laughter at your study sessions and sitting together in class, Jihoon never acknowledged you outside of the lecture room. He barely even glanced your way when you passed him in the hallways; he definitely never returned any waves or even nods. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Seungcheol was left to gather the pieces of your confidence. Though he was vehement that there was no soulmate for him and he’d be happy being single his entire life, he refused to let you suffer the same fate. 

It was already getting painful to watch you mimic his habit: hiding the fluffy cat under a variety of bracelets and wristbands, covering it with long sleeves whenever the weather allowed. Your hope had turned into anxiety in front of his very eyes and he’d be damned if he let you continue down this path.

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” – he was going to stand by these words. Even when you practically begged him not to.

“He won’t like it,” you’d told him. 

“He’d be upset with the both of us,” you’d scolded him when he presented the idea again two weeks later.

“Why would he even believe you?” you’d scoffed.

He decided he’d make Jihoon believe him. So, after sending you off to class, he located your soulmate in the same lounge room you’d introduced to him. He was even resting on the same sofa.

Seungcheol stood in front of him and cleared his throat. 

Jihoon straightened up immediately at that, pulling his laptop screen down. “Can I help you with something?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About…?” Jihoon scoffed when Seungcheol offered him no further context. “Listen, if this is about something (Y/n) said or did–”

“She never told you, did she?” he asked. “You still don’t know.”

His counterpart blinked. “Know what? What is this? Do you have no one else to play mind games with?”

“Jihoon,” he sighed, “she’s your soulmate.”

His words were met with a frown. “What nonsense are you speaking now? No, first you barge in here, and now you’re making up stories– Does she know you’re here?”

“She knows I made a promise. For her.” Seungcheol closed his eyes and spoke as calmly as he could, “She’s your soulmate. She’s the little spotted cat on your wrist. You’ve been breaking her heart this entire time and I’m sick of it.”

Jihoon’s frown deepened. His hand clenched into a fist in his lap as he spoke, “If she’s– Why didn’t she say anything?”

“That you’ll have to ask her yourself. I just came here to balance the scales – it seemed unfair that she suffer with the knowledge but you break her heart with every word.” Seungcheol sighed and opened his eyes again, gaze hardening. “What you do with this knowledge is up to you. But if you break her heart any further, I will break you.”

You were blissfully unaware of your best friend’s actions. In fact, you hadn’t seen him since lunch. You had been preoccupied with making the slides of your film studies presentation more, –well–, presentable.

The courtyard was a perfect spot for drawing inspiration for slide designs: the fresh air did wonders to your brain and the constant distant chatter of your fellow students served as white noise. You were on a roll. 

Who knows, you thought to yourself, maybe Jihoon will even grace you with his proud smile when you show him the presentation.

Suddenly, a strange feeling filled you. You habitually glanced down at your wrist – the cat was standing on his hind legs, as if trying to peek over a fence to see what was in front of you. Like he was expecting his owner back from a long trip.

“So it really is you,” you then heard his voice. 

Your head snapped up to look at Jihoon standing right in front of you, his eyes trained on his own wrist – miraculously uncovered this time, the usual black band crumpled in his other hand. 

Your voice and words betrayed you, they left you fighting in the battle field all alone. You gulped. Instead of acknowledging his words, as if doing so would make the situation disappear, you turned your laptop his way. Your voice wavered as you told him, “I made some changes to the slides. Thought it would look better if we made them prettier. What do you think?”

But Jihoon kept staring at his wrist as if you weren’t even there. How could he not stare at the spotted cat he’d spent all these years mindlessly glancing at, following, and talking to in the moonlight? The cat who had once stood for a broken dream now stood for a new hope. 

Finally, he tore his eyes from the cat – the mark of you – and looked at you instead. There was something so incredibly sorrowful about the look in his eyes, you could barely fight the urge to cry. He didn’t bother to do the same. 

A tear slipped down his cheek as he shakily breathed out. “You could’ve told me, (Y/n). Why wouldn’t you– Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. Not after what she did to you.”

He scoffed. “You watched her lie and break my heart and it never occurred to you to just… tell me? To just say you were the one? That I was looking the wrong way?”

You wanted the ground to take you away. It would’ve hurt less than this confrontation. All of these eyes curiously watching from a distance, the whole campus witnessing him breaking your heart – it was too much. Even if he was right to be mad. 

“Jihoon…”

“What were you so afraid of?” he wondered, frown deepening and voice raising by the word. “That I would reject you in favour of her? That she would stop being your friend because you foiled her plans? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she’s clearly not a good friend so why are you still siding with her?!”

“I’m not!”

“It sure seems that way!”

You glared at him. “I stopped talking to Eunmi the minute she told me what she had done!” 

Jihoon expression softened at your words. So did yours. You sniffled. “I had already let her go too far because she was the only friend I had when I first came here. She was the only friend I had known. I didn’t want to lose both my best friend and my soulmate. I thought–” You took a deep breath and avoided his eyes. “I thought if I couldn’t have my soulmate, I’d at least have a loyal friend who wouldn’t let me feel lonely. I was mistaken.”

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. His arm dropped, his eyes following as if to make sure the spotted cat remained. 

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered once again before stepping closer, crouching to your level. He sighed once more. Then you felt warm fingers around your wrist. “Had you told me–”

“Just reject me and be done with it,” you begged. “Don’t make this even worse. I deserve my heart shattered, but at least make it quick.”

He frowned. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Then finish quicker. I still have a presentation to–”

“Had you told me,” he started again, more assertively this time, his hand holding yours tightly as if to anchor you to him, “I would’ve rejected her and run to you back then already. I would’ve believed you without any hesitation. But seeing as that didn’t happen,” he sighed and you braced yourself for a proper heartbreak, “I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

Your heart stopped beating. At least it felt like it did. Your eyes widened while searching his. Instead of a scowl or a frown or a glare, you found yourself on the receiving end of a fond smile. 

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious?!”

“As serious as Seungcheol is about breaking me if I break your heart,” he promised with a soft laugh. His fingers still never left your hand, only sliding down to lock with yours.

You groaned and closed your eyes in despair. “...He’s the one that told you.”

“I’m glad he did,” he laughed, “because I don’t think you would’ve told me for a while, and I certainly wouldn’t have figured it out anytime soon.”

“We’re both dumb, aren’t we?” you mumbled, finally opening your eyes again once the embarrassment faded. 

“Complete idiots, the both of us.”

“Soulmates,” you joked.

“Soulmates,” he confirmed with a laugh.

You still wondered though. “Why aren’t you more mad at me?”

He shrugged and sat down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, on purpose this time. “I thought I was at first. But I don’t think you’re at fault for what Eunmi did to me. You were just trying your to be a good friend.” Seeing your sheepish smile, he nudged you playfully before whispering, “Plus, I’m not entirely sure I could take Seungcheol in a fight.”

You laughed. “I guess that’s one perk of being his friend.”

Jihoon smiled. “He seems like a great friend. I like him better than I liked Eunmi.”

“I do too.”

“What do you say we give this a proper try?” he suggested, holding out his hand for you to take, the doodle-like cat on his wrist full on display.

You smiled. When you lifted your hand to meet his, the fluffy cat rushed to meet his spotted one where your skin touched. Their noses pressed together happily, the cats nuzzling into each other’s necks after finally meeting each other after all this time of being so close but never close enough. 

“I’d like that,” you told him and he breathed out in relief. 

With the awkward distance out of the way, sitting beside him didn’t feel as nerve-wracking as it once had. It felt natural to be in his presence now. You wondered if you’d be drawn to him soon, just as your soulmate marks were drawn to each other.

“How did you find me here anyway?” you asked him after a moment of silence.

He shrugged. “I followed the cat. Figured that if Seungcheol was right, the mark would lead me right to you.” He gestured around. “It did.”

“Huh.” You pursed your lips in thought before giggling. “I guess I should’ve tried that when I was looking for you earlier.”

“Earlier? Today?” he wondered.

You remembered your laptop all of a sudden, pulling it closer to the two of you. “I made some changes to our presentation. I wanted to show you and then we could maybe work on it a little. Hold on.”

“Right now?” He seemed amused at the idea when you nodded. “Sure, we could do that. Or, – hear me out –, we could go on a little date to make up for lost time.”

But as tempting as that sounded… 

“The presentation is due tomorrow morning, Jihoon.”

He grimaced. “Brunch date tomorrow then?”

“... I could fit that into my schedule.”

Note: I only wrote this so I'd have an excuse to later write cute university boyfriend / soulmate Jihoon fics as sequels lol

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeenweeklyarticle #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon scenarios

[boybandposter]

☾ “Paint me the Moon“ - Larry Johnson

prompt: It’s your seventeenth birthday, and Larry wants to give you a gift

warnings: none ! pure fluff ♥︎

word count: 1.6K

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

A gentle plume of smoke spilled from your lips as you leaned further back into the couch. After a full day of partying with Ashley, Sal, and Larry, you four finally got to unwind at your apartment. Sadly, your parents were still gone due to business— promising to make up for it once they returned. Just another common occurrence, but you didn’t mind. It made it easier to have everyone over to just hang out anyways.

You took another drag of your blunt before speaking, “Being seventeen is great and all, but it’s just another year of high school.” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling with a lax smile. You heard Ash and Larry chuckle, and Larry crossed his legs over your lap.

“Just drop out, dumbass. You could always do pole dancing like you joke around abo—“ Larry couldn’t even finish his sentence before you threw a decorative pillow at his face.

“Come on, you know those are jokes. Kinda. Maybe.” You kept changing your words and passed the rest of your joint to Sal, who sat quietly on the ottoman. He was more talkative earlier, but it was getting late and it had been a long day.

As if on queue, Ashley stood from the floor and stretched, a small crack coming from her back. You hadn’t noticed, but she shot Sally a look as if indicating some secret message. “Well, I dunno about you guys, but I’m beat.” She talked as she picked up a bit of the mess, which wasn’t too much of a hassle. Sal stood up as well and ran his hair through his blue locks.

“Same, and I gotta feed Gizmo. When we stopped at my apartment my dad was out, so I can only assume he still is.” His voice was slightly muffled by his prosthetic as he spoke, and he trudged over to where you sat. Sal grabbed your hands and pulled you up into a tight hug. He wished you happy birthday for the millionth time, telling you how grateful he was for you and that he wanted you to trip and eat grass (you had shoved him earlier at the lake and he nearly did the same).

You laughed and pulled away from his arms and was quickly met by Ashley’s embrace, where she nearly squished the life from your frame, spouting quick words of ‘I love you so much’ and ‘happy birthday’. Ash planted a quick kiss on your cheek and looked at Larry, who still sat on the couch lazily. Soon after, it was just you and Larry at your apartment. It wasn’t uncommon by any means— almost every other time all four of you hung out, Larry stayed behind to keep you company. Or you two would simply hang out with each other when the other two were busy.

You nestled back to your spot on the couch and put your own legs above Larry this time, his large palm resting on top of your shin. You could’ve sworn that for a split second, Larry ran his thumb back and forth, but you had smoked a little so you ignored it. But what really threw you off was that he was just… staring. His brown eyes reached into your soul, at least that’s what it felt like. After what felt like an hour, he chuckled and leaned his head back against the headrest.

“Sorry I had spaced out, I was just thinking.”

“You? Think? I don’t think so.” Your laugh was cut short as he pinched your ankle, making you squeal and flinch. “Sorry, sorry! It was too good to pass up. And you definitely set yourself up for that one.”

Larry rolled his eyes and sighed with a soft smile on his face. He almost looked ethereal in the dimly lit room, and you had to shake yourself mentally to avoid staring… again. “I was going to give you a little something for your big day, but maybe you don’t want it after all.” He admitted with a shrug and a simple tilt of his head.

“What?! C’mon, now I’m curious! You never give gifts, so please? I’ll be super nice this time!” You pleaded with him, but the grin on your face contradicted your words. Your hands mimicked a praying motion as you sat up on the couch. your mind raced with thoughts and ideas of what he could’ve brought. Whatever it was, you were bound to cherish it forever and you knew you were going to write this moment down in your journal later.

Larry stood up from the cushions and pulled his long hair into a loose bun that hung at the nape of his neck. “You better behave then. And close your eyes, y/n. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would we now?”

You immediately complied and placed your hands over your eyes. All you could do was listen as he shuffled around the room, but you knew it was pointless. A comfortable silence filled the room, until Larry broke it with a heavy exhale. “Alright, I guess you can take a look now.”

“You guess? What do you…” You trailed off as you removed your hands, ad you were met face-to-face with the most gorgeous portrait of yourself. Your eyes scanned and admired every minuscule detail, from the way your hair had clung to your skin to the wrinkles of your smile. Not a single word escaped your tongue.

Tears slowly trailed down your cheeks unbeknownst to you as you turned to Larry, who looked anxious to his core. His hands opened and closed as he waited for something, anything— He wanted you to hurry and tell him that you hated it, or that he got your face wrong. God, this was making his heart pound like crazy.

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping upwards to meet your gaze.

“Larry… it’s beautiful. I— God, I don’t even know what to say, I…” Your eyes flickered between the painting and the man in front of you.

Larry rubbed the back of his neck and shoved his other hand in his pocket. “Maybe a thank you would work for now?” He chuckled breathlessly and a weight was immediately lifted off his shoulders. But for him, he had one more thing planned out for you. A laugh escaped from your mouth as you wiped the salty tears from your cheeks, shaking your head to try and collect yourself.

The next thing Larry knew, you were wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. His brain stopped for a moment, any witty comments flying from his thoughts. Without too much waiting, you felt his arms slide around your waist. “I’m glad you like it y/n. I was actually pretty fucking nervous to give it to you.” Larry chuckled in your ear and pulled away just enough to see your face.

You quirked your eyebrow and cocked your head to the side in confusion. Normally Larry wouldn’t have any problem showing you his work. Every time he finished a piece he would invite you over to see it. “Why would you be nervous about it? It’s one of the most beautiful paintings I’ve ever seen from you.” You questioned him innocently, the evident curious tone taking place in your voice.

Larry’s gaze flickered away from yours for a brief moment, “That’s where the second part of my ‘gift’ comes in. That’s really the reason I’m nervous.” He explained with a deep exhale. You couldn’t help but notice how tense he suddenly felt.

“Y/n…. I know I’m not the best person around, that much is obvious. But… can I have the honor of being your boyfriend?” His cheeks flared pink at his quickly spoken question. Both of you sat in a shocked silence but what else were you supposed to do?

Larry couldn’t believe he had actually worked up the guts to ask, and you? You yet again found yourself staring at him with a slacked jaw. Your own cheeks burnt, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that he asked to be your boyfriend. Emotions ran through your body, but the most prominent of them was the sheer and utter joy of it all. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have a crush on Larry, but you always thought it was a hopeless case. But everything is different now. “Are you being serious? Like, this isn’t a joke?”

Larry simply shook his head with a sheepish look plastered on his slender face. Were you that repulsed by the idea of dating him?

You shrieked and found yourself hugged him so hard that he nearly stumbled backwards onto the couch. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh my God, I can’t believe this is actually happening right now!” You giggled and bounced on your toes, your hold on his body never once loosening. Every other gift paled in comparison (except for the painting, that was definitely the second favorite) to his words. “Fuck, I just wanna kiss you right now!” Your eyes widened at your own words and you blankly gazed at him to await his reaction.

Larry’s hands ghosted over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. They stopped to cup your face, his own smile sending butterflies straight to your stomach. “Well, I am your boyfriend now. Go crazy. Please.” Larry whispered the last phrase and you couldn’t even stop yourself from kissing him senseless.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

author’s note: PLEASE I actually love Larry so much it makes my head hurt. I was going to make it a little longer but it didn’t happen🗿

#florence writes ! #larry johnson #larry johnson x reader #larry johnson x you #sally face fanfics #larry johnson x fem!reader #fanfic #x reader #writing #requests open #reqs open #larry johnson x y/n

[toomuchracket]

i’m literally waiting for my bus right now and just say this baby in her pram she was wearing her little hat and the dad had the shopping in the little basket underneath the pram. can imagine dad matty taking baba with him while they do the grocery for girlie

this feels like it fits in the og dad!matty universe (the flatmates but older) to me. like i see it so clearly, matty and baby dylan!! you're back at work, but matty's not, so he's in full dad/househusband mode (which he lowkey loves lmao) - the two of them drop you off at work, then go home so dylan can have her morning nap while matty does some washing or whatever. and it's a nice day outside - cold, but sunny - so he decides to walk to the shops with her rather than take the car; he doesn't have a lot to get, he's just quite in the mood to cook you a slightly fancier dinner tonight as a treat, just because he loves you, so it's literally just buying ingredients for that and maybe a pint of milk or something. anyway, once dylan's had her nap and a bottle (and a cuddle from daddy), matty puts her into her little purple snowsuit and the woolly hat your mum knitted her - he's like "dyl you are genuinely the cutest baby of all time. i need to send mummy a picture of you oh my god" and she giggles - before getting her all comfy in her pram and setting off. and it's so cute, him just chatting to her the whole time and making her smile, which makes him smile in return. dylan stays awake and alert even in the shop, and matty invents a game where he holds up random food items like "yes or no, dyl?" which makes her laugh so much - he almost buys everything she reacted positively to, just because she was so happy, but making a nice dinner out of a packet of babybels and a banana seems like a difficult thing to do, so he decides against it in favour of ingredients for a chicken supreme lol. but i think he takes her down the baby food aisle so they can pick out something special for dylan's dinner, too; can just see matty reading the little jars and being like "OOH dyl this one sounds good. i think i'd have that one if i were you. shall we get it? yeah, i think we will", before going to the checkout and making funny faces to make her laugh while they queue. him repeatedly bending to put the shopping under the pram also turns into an elaborate game of peekaboo, which the baby finds so funny that she laughs all the way home, before she has another nap after all the excitement. adorable <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #dad!matty #dylan

[bluestripedspeedo]

Indiscreet - 05. In the Mood for Love Pairing: Writer/Producer!Javi Gutierrez x you (Hollywood AU) SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: This is it. The Big Moment. Chapter warning: NSFW, NC-17, mature, no minors allowed. Discussion of safety, oral (both you and Javi), PIV, dirty talk, daddy kink (not the DDLG kind), age gap (mid 20s and mid 40s). Word count: 9.8k

Playlist: Dress - Taylor Swift So It Goes

Author's note: I had this in the queue two years ago, then life got in the way and I abandoned it. I've decided to return because I feel I have a responsibility to finish what I started, so here it is, the very long awaited smut chapter!

I've also decided to tweak the previous chapters a lot because I've changed as a person in these two years, so it's better to reread those first, as a refresher too. When I first started writing this, it was going to be about a pandemic/quarantine romance - it was initially inspired by The Bubble's premise anyway. But... that's old news now, and I don't feel like going back to that space of mind. You fall in love under different circumstances now.

Enjoy and apologies for my absence. I promise to be here more often!

✧✧✧

Day 9

The wrap party is held at the villa where you’d been filming for the past week. All of the cast and crew members are present except for one glaring absence – Dieter Bravo. He’d left the set faster than Óscar could even announce it’s a wrap. In full costume, no less.

Javi has to do something about that. Dieter’s a brilliant actor, that’s undeniable, but his public image hasn’t been positive lately. Hunger Strike helped him sweep the awards season, and if Dieter could be a little more professional, Javi wouldn’t mind pushing the campaign for his work in this too. He’s lucky he physically resembles Javi a little… As long as Javi keeps writing self-insert characters into his scripts, Dieter will always have a job waiting. 

The dinner part of the party is over – people are scattered around the garden mingling and draining the last bottles of champagne and making plans for the few days off until work resumes in London.

“Óscar,” you sit down between him and Javi. They have settled on the chairs they dragged to the corner to overlook the sea while they drink and smoke. “I’m gonna go with those guys. They’ll drive me back.”

Your head nudges towards the group laughing boisterously on the steps of the villa. Some are crew, some are your co-stars that you’ve been working with since the start of the production, and some are new local actors hired just for the duration of the shoot here. They’ve made such a tight knit group you’re surprised that they even asked you to come along at all.

“Taking the party elsewhere?” Óscar asks.

“Yeah… we’re going to Saint-Tropez.”

“We could go with you. If you want.” Javi carefully masks his hopeful tone.

“We’re gonna hit up some clubs...”

“You’re way too old for that.” Óscar slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“Right,” Javi drinks the rest of his cognac in one gulp and pours another, since he’s not going anywhere tonight by the looks of it. “Might displace my hip on the dance floor or something.” 

You laugh. “You’re good. It’s just… I never went out with any of them, so… could be fun.” 

“Oh my God, go, we’re not your parents,” Óscar shoos you. “Just be on the boat on time tomorrow. And ask the others, too.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Javi chokes on his drink and Óscar snorts. He gets up when the cinematographer and boom operator drunkenly call for his attention. “Have fun, kid.” 

“Take care of yourself. Don’t drink too much.” Javi says once Óscar is safely out of hearing distance. He didn’t see you drinking at all during dinner despite the free flowing alcohol and now he suspects it’s because you’ve planned on going all out for the after party. He doesn’t mean to be controlling, but he’s supportive of your intention to cut back and he doesn’t really trust that party crowd to look after you. Not that he thinks you couldn’t do it yourself, but it would give him a peace of mind if you were going to be inebriated.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I just feel like I should go. They’re my castmates. I haven’t spent much time with them, or even at all.” All thanks to the man sitting across from you, but you have no regrets. “And, you know, networking.”

“We both know you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he grins. “Where are you going? Do you know yet?”

“No, but probably something really cliche like Les Caves or VIP.”

“Is Elise coming too? I don’t see her.”

“She left. Like ten minutes ago. Don’t ask me how I know and don’t tell anyone, but she’s following Dieter.” 

Oh, shit. Javi’s eyes go wide. 

“Hey, don’t ask.”

Javi is incredulous. Is he that oblivious to even his actors now? He’s on set most days and he always keeps a closer eye on them to anticipate any on set drama. He’s known them both for as long as he’s been in the industry and he usually could get a good read on these things. Takes one to know one. Maybe he’s really been that distracted.

“What about Ross? Is he coming with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” A coy smile slowly forms on your lips.

“Nothing. I heard he asked you out.” He looks away from you into the distance. 

You fake a gasp. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“He was pretty damn loud about it.”

“Then you know I told him I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I thought so. The way his face fell. If only he could emote that well on camera.”

“Javi! That’s mean!”

“You know I’m not wrong.”

He’s right. You might be new, but you figured a while ago Ross couldn’t have been cast for his talents but rather his heartthrob status for maximum PR.

“So who’s the boyfriend?” Javi playfully side eyes you and you nudge your knee to his. “Can’t be me, too old for that.”

“Uh huh. Let’s see…” You pretend to think. “Man-friend? Lover?”

Javi groans and makes a face.

“Ooh, I know,” you look at him seductively. “Daddy.”

“Careful.” Fuck.

“Wow… I…” your eyes widen. This is definitely interesting. “...can’t wait to explore that.”

“It only sounds hot coming from you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Any cute nicknames for me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He throws you a teasing glance. “You could’ve found out an hour from now, give or take.” You look at him in question, so he continues. “I have a whole surprise planned – had.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“‘Surprise’ being the key word there, babe.”

“I could tell them–”

“No, forget I said anything. Go have fun.”

“But–”

“Honey. We can’t exactly hang out with each other’s friends, so when you have the chance to be with them, you go, okay? I’ll be fine.” He might be seeing things but he swears he sees your eyes tear up… with relief. Why do you need permission so badly?

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“I can’t promise I’ll still be up. I’m ooooold.” He leans back on his chair, taking his time to admire you in your low cut dress under the guise of having a casual, professional conversation. 

“Hm, so is it your idea or Óscar’s to go to the casino tomorrow? That’s some old people shit.” The lightness comes back in your tone.

“Noitsnot.” Javi answers too quickly.

“Yeah, right. Looking forward to playing the jackpot?”

“I’ll have you know I’ll sweep you at poker.” 

“If you say so. I’ll make sure to wear something interesting to distract you.”

“That’s cheating but I’ll allow it.”

“And meanwhile,” you shift so he could get a better look at your cleavage. “Think about what could’ve happened if you’d told me your plans first.”

“Ah, so my usual thoughts. That’s easy.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “I didn’t come last night, daddy.”

He suppresses a groan. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“I had to. You made me so wet.” 

“I offered to take care of you, baby.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t come. I wanted to wait for you.”

“Fuck.”

“Well, now we’re even. See you tomorrow.”

You get up and leave to join your friends, leaving him hard and wanting as he pulls out a new cigarette. 

✧✧

Day 10

You are positively trying to kill him today. As if the thought of you touching yourself right under his room wasn’t enough to make his balls about to explode, now you’re lounging in the red one piece that drove him crazy a couple of months ago. He tries hard, very hard, to look at literally anything else. He hopes no one notices how long he’s been ‘taking pictures’ of the oceanic view. 

And it gets worse. When it’s time to dress up to the nines for the night, he puts on a light blue suit jacket, but you… you go beyond what you promised. You arrive last to the casino and in that moment, it’s as if everything in the room stops. It stirs something in him too when he sees people checking you out as you walk past them. 

“You look so handsome.” You tell him once you’re close enough. Óscar had gone straight to the high rollers table upon arrival, taking a few crew members on his dime. But Javi’s content with sitting around nursing his drink, waiting for you.

“This isn’t fair.” He gives you a quick once over.

“You like it?” You’re not usually one to wear something so revealing, but Javi makes you bold. You were saving this up for a proper date with him back in London, but there’s no time like the present. You can’t even be shy about showing so much because you need to elicit his reaction.

“It’s fucking fantastic.”

“You should see it on the floor.”

He drops his head and sighs heavily, then he points his drink towards the slot machines. “One round and we’re leaving.”

“What happened to poker? Are you chickening out?” You challenge him.

“No, but it takes much more time.”

“Excuses, excuses…” From here, you can see Óscar in your line of sight. “Why don’t we leave after he wins? Then he’ll be busy with the next round to notice us, right?”

“That’d be a while. He sucks.”

“Go and help him, then. Oh, how are we getting back?”

“We’re not. I’m getting us a suite.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s a lot less private around here. People talk.”

You’re right, and logistically it’s more difficult to explain both of your absences for the night and potentially tomorrow morning. The yacht isn’t an option, either.

“Let’s Uber, then.”

“Yeah, we can’t do that. It doesn’t work here.”

He studies your face while he calculates his options. “Sit tight, I have an idea.”

✧

The ‘idea’ turns out to be buying a fellow gambler’s car with his winnings. Of all things you expected to happen today, finding yourself in the backseat of a Pagani was not one. Javi was a few hundred thousand short but he didn’t think the guy cared that much. From the way he had been gawking at Javi and Óscar since they walked in, he probably would’ve given it away for free. His immaculate taste in cars was just a nice bonus. Plus, the color matches his suit. 

“I just have to send his kids some signed merch and arrange them a tour of the Beskar set. Great deal, huh?”

“You billionaires are weird.” You shake your head in amusement.

He starts the car and the revving attracts a few passersby. “What did you tell Óscar?” 

“That I’m tired and everyone else is busy having fun. He didn’t even blink.”

“Let’s hope they’ll keep him occupied ‘til tomorrow.”

The two of you ride in silence, enjoying the vast view of hills and sea, away from the city lights. Javi is relaxed and concentrated, and it gives you a warm, calm feeling seeing him this way.

“It’s been a long time since I drove a sports car. This is a vast improvement from the last one, though, definitely.” He looks over to your side, clearly enjoying his time. “Better looking passenger, too.”

“Pfft, come on! So cheesy.”

“I’m serious… It was with Nic.” Javi says with a chuckle. “You should’ve seen how everyone was looking at you.”

“Can’t say I noticed.”

“Hmm-mm. They were.”

“Did you like it? Or were you jealous?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I get jealous when I see other women checking you out. I’m not too proud to admit that.”

“But they don’t hold a candle to you. So don’t worry.”

“Same here. Don’t want anyone else.”

You caress his arm up to his shoulder where he turns his head to give your hand a kiss. Then you lightly travel down to tug at the buttons on his stomach, then his belt, then the zipper of his pants… you let out a soft moan when he involuntarily bucks towards your hand. Feeling brave, and to his surprise, you cup him over the material and he lets out a heavy groan. 

“Behave, baby. You keep that up and we won’t make it there.”

“Okay, but drive faster. Feels so heavy, Javi. I want it all in me. Make it fit.” Turning him on turns you on.

His hands on the steering wheel turn white. “Fuck yes baby you’re gonna take it. Wearing that dress like you’re begging to be fucked. I knew everyone in there pictured your bare tits.”

Oh. Your jaw drops. That’s… unexpected. You squeeze him in response and he immediately takes away your hand to clasp it above his knee.

“You’re so fucking naughty. Teasing me every day.” Javi’s deep voice drops a few more octaves and it makes you squirm. “What happened to waiting, hm?”

“I can’t. I’m tired of fingering myself to sleep, every night.” 

“Yeah? What did you think about when you did it?”

“Yours in me… mine aren’t thick enough, Javi,” you sigh from your own admission. “Your tongue. Feeling your mustache on me. You stretching m–”

You gasp when Javi suddenly grips your hand tightly. You’ve never seen Javi look this intense before. His nostrils flare, his eyes darken, and his breathing becomes so heavy you can hear it in the silence. 

“Want you fucking my mouth, daddy,” you continue, making him grip you again to the point of almost hurting. 

“You–” His mouth forms into a snarl. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You bring up his hand that grips you to run his thumb along your lips to nibble on it. You do the same to each finger, eyes looking at him putting all his effort into concentrating on the road ahead. He finally turns his head when you slip his middle finger past your lips to the knuckle, giving it a languid, sensual suck. A teaser of what’s to come. 

“Fuck, baby. You have to stop.” Javi lets out a moan as he focuses back on the road and you keep swirling your tongue around him, rubbing the underside back and forth as if it were–

You have an idea.

You hope you won’t crash and die on these hills. 

Your other hand makes a quick work hiking up your dress and your mouth lets go of his finger and you guide your hand and his between your thighs and–

Javi lets out an angry growl when his hand meets your soaked panties. “You get this wet from talking?”

“It’s you, Javi…” He starts rubbing you through the material and you throw your head back on the seat, moving your hips along with his movement. 

Then you have another idea.

You recline the seat, shimmy your ruined panties off, and drape your leg over the console to spread yourself open. The cold that hits you is nothing compared to the warmth of his massive hand so close to your center. Javi’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of their sockets. He can’t see you clearly in the dark, but he can definitely feel your wetness on the leather. 

“Please, Javi… I don’t wanna wait.”

Javi mutters something under his breath, his one hand on the wheel shaking. He didn’t plan on doing this here, or even tonight. He was going to surprise you with a private dinner the other night, and tonight he only wanted to take you back to the villa just so you could stop pretending you’re just coworkers when work is already done - for the time being, anyway. He thought it would be PG at best, but… he’s not complaining. But he’s driving, and he’s thisclose to losing control. 

But on the other hand, is your exposed pussy begging for his touch. And Javi’s only a man.

So Javi decides to be a gentleman and give you what you ask for. He starts by running his hand over your mound, groaning at the smoothness. Then he moves his hand further down and spreads your wetness over his hand and yourself, fingers parting your lips along the way. You don’t dare to look down because even a mere glance of Javi’s hand working on you would make you come, you’re sure of it. 

But you do anyway, just as his finger starts to rub your clit in circular motions, making you fall back on the seat with a loud moan. He continues and puts more pressure as you squirm and writhe, restrained by the seatbelt across your torso, keening sounds filling the small space.

He wishes he could watch you. Maybe he should pull over, get you off, then drive again after you’re both satisfied? But he really doesn’t wanna do it in a car that hasn’t even been his for an hour. You deserve better, somewhere more comfortable, even when you’re so desperate now.

Luckily the GPS says they’re only 5 minutes away.

5 minutes too long.

“Javi…” your pleading moan takes him back into the situation at hand, and he gets the hint. You need more. 

So he gives you more. His middle finger prods your entrance and enters you without warning, making you bite your lip in pleasure. Your two that usually keep you busy on many lonely nights is nothing in comparison to his thick one. His knuckles on the steering wheel go white when you clench around him as he tries to find your spot without even looking in your direction. 

3 minutes.

Should he, or should he not make you come? It’s fucking hot, seeing you grip the armrest and your toes curling, hearing you loudly cry when he adds another finger, the squelch of your pussy equally as loud as your wanton moans to his ears. DRIVEDRIVEDRIVEyouresocloseDRIVEsoclose

The GPS doesn’t even get to announce your arrival before he carelessly parks the car in the driveway. His fingers leave your core to your dismay and he doesn’t give you a moment before pulling his seatbelt off and lurches on to you, grabbing your face in a passionate kiss and smearing your wetness on his fingers on your neck. 

“Javi…” you try to get a word in between kisses. “Let’s– let’sgoinsidebaby–”

Reluctantly he pulls back from you, eyes as dark as the night. With a heavy sigh, Javi exits the car and helps you out, your panties forgotten on the floor.

✧

Javi opens the front door and doesn’t even get to turn on the lights when a moaning sound from somewhere inside freezes you both.

“Óscar…?” Javi tries, as much as he knows it couldn’t be him. The moans persist and turn into groans. “Uh… stay here. Call security, please, honey.”

“NO!” 

“Dieter?!” Javi says incredulously to which the man answers with another groan. You close the door and follow Javi to the living room.

“Hey, man. Sorry to crash.”

Dieter is passed out on the couch, hair strewn in every direction, barely dressed in a pair of boxers and a wrinkled green bathroom robe. He’s holding a corked bottle of wine that threatens to slip out of his grasp that he clearly struggled to open with his bare hands before. By his feet is a spilled, empty glass of whatever he was having and an unlit joint that already burned a hole through the velvet material. It’s a shitshow.

“How did you even get in here?”

“I climbed. Your security is shit.”

“Yeah, thanks. Why are you here?”

“Why are you so pissy?”

At that moment, you come into his view and Dieter’s reddened eyes stare at you quizzically before noticing your smeared lipstick… and your see-through front that you try to cover as much as you can with your very small clutch.

And then he has the audacity to drop his gaze onto Javi’s tented lap.

“Oooooohhhhh. No fucking way. You’re so dead.”

“Hi… Dieter.” You try to meet his eyes so he wouldn’t look anywhere else, particularly your… private area.

“Holy shit. Does Óscar know?”

You glance at Javi who keeps glaring at Dieter in anger. His patience is running thin.

“Dieter. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“I got high and Elise threw a fucking fit because I was balls de– I was with my PA. Don’t look at me all judgy like that. You’re also tapping this hot piece of a–”

“Shut up!” Javi barks. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Chill the fuck out, Javi.” Dieter rolls his eyes and gives you a salute. “Great dress… beautiful dress.”

“Stop.”

“Okay. Damn.”

“Go back to your room, Dieter.”

“Can’t. She’s in there.”

“That’s your problem.”

“You go and fuck each other’s brains out. I’ll sit here and be quiet.”

“Out, Dieter. I give you ten seconds. Ten.” Javi starts counting.

“Really?”

“I’m getting a drink.” You announce to no one. Luckily there’s a throw blanket on the nearest chair and you’re able to swiftly cover yourself in it.

Dieter gets up and stumbles right behind you to the kitchen. “Great idea!”

“Hey!” Javi’s growl echoes throughout the house and he stalks after Dieter, grabbing him by the collar of his robe. “Nine.”

“Let go of me, man.”

“I’ve had it with you, Dieter. You got arrested, you ran off set, you mess around with my crew–”

“Oh and that rule doesn’t apply to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I make the rules.”

“Yeah? I thought Óscar does.”

“Eight, Dieter. Watch it.”

“Hey, I never asked.” Dieter smirks at you. “How old are you? Twenty?”

“Four years ago, I was.” You tell him nonchalantly at the same time that Javi says “don’t answer him.”

Dieter looks over his shoulder at Javi and barks out a mocking laugh. “You have one year to leave him for Leo. Nice.”

“That’s it, we’re done.” Javi’s grip tightens on Dieter’s robe and he starts to drag him back out. All this male posturing is really wearing you off. You can’t take this back and forth between them anymore. This was supposed to be a fun night for you. 

“I have seven more, don’t I?”

“Just… let him stay, Javi. I’m tired anyway.” You let out an exaggerated sigh and fill up another glass with water and put it on the kitchen island, motioning to Dieter that it’s for him. You bury your face in your hands, softly massaging your temples while Javi goes to stand by your side with his back facing Dieter. You reach out until you find his hand and you squeeze it softly, silently assuring him it’s not his fault.

The three of you stand around in silence while Dieter sips his water and Javi eventually stops clenching from anger. When he’s done drinking, Dieter finally looks like he knows what guilt is.

“Sorry for ruining your night.”

“Hmm.” “No shit.” You and Javi reply in unison.

“You two gonna tell Óscar about this?”

“None of your business.” Javi turns around to face him with a finality in his tone. “And whatever is going on with Elise, sort that out before we’re back to filming.”

“I don’t have any more scenes.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’ve told you I’ve taken up that other job.”

“What other job?”

“Cliff Beasts.”

You snort and raise your head. “Cliff Beasts? Really?”

He shrugs. “Money’s good.”

“Use that for rehab.” Javi snarks.

“Who else is in it?” You sincerely wonder. You were too young to watch the original in theaters when it came out, but the franchise keeps getting more and more ridiculous with each sequel. You keep up just to understand the memes, like everyone does. 

“The entire old cast is coming back. Even Carol Cobb.”

“Cool. Love her.”

“And new people your age. They keep telling me they’re from TikTok. What’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismiss his question. He should stay in the dark about that. The world doesn’t deserve to witness Dieter’s shenanigans on that app. 

You rinse your glass and pat Javi’s arm. “I’m going to bed.”

Javi watches you walk away and waits until you close your bedroom door before he scolds Dieter. “You saw nothing, heard nothing. No one will know about this.”

“Okay.”

“One slip up and I won’t vouch for you anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll be gone tomorrow morning before we’re up. Sort your shit out.”

“Heard you.”

Javi leaves him to go up to his room and he hears Dieter call out a thanks when he’s halfway past the stairs. He has no energy to acknowledge it.

✧

And gone before they’re up, he did. Óscar didn’t even see him when he finally got back around 7 AM and the rest of the day was spent shuffling around to pack. Javi had to arrange the shipment of the new car he acquired too. There was no time to talk about last night, or talk at all, because Javi’s private plane was already waiting on the tarmac for whenever they’re done and ready to leave. 

Óscar is passed out from hangover across from him while you occupy the front of the plane. Busy on your phone, as usual. From his position he can somewhat make out an Escher-looking game. There’s only 30 minutes left before the plane lands in London and he has about 15 before Óscar wakes up.

“So,” he moves next to your seat and speaks in a whisper. “Where are you going after we land?”

“I have to check into my hotel. Why are we whispering?”

“Do you want to just stay at mine? For the rest of the shoot?”

It’s very tempting. But logistically it’ll only call attention to you. You can’t exactly get away with staying at the producer’s house for an entire month. It’s bad enough that Ava knows and now Dieter too. “And tell my PA what?”

“That you’re renting your own place? Staying with a friend?”

“They need to know where they’re picking me up every day.”

“That’s easy. I’ll drive you.”

“Yes, that won’t be suspicious at all.”

Javi sighs in defeat. You’re right, again. Óscar stirs in his seat and Javi waits until he stills again to propose his solution. Except Óscar doesn’t and is fully awake now and asking if they’re there yet.

“I’ll text you,” he mouths.

✧✧

London, three days later 

What he proposed in the text didn’t come into fruition. He’d told you to check in, repack your necessities, and he’ll pick you up to go to his place. Only go to your hotel when you need new clothes. It’s not a bad idea, but it doesn’t matter anyway because you didn’t even get to unpack before Javi informed you that he’d be busy and couldn’t pick you up. 

So you’ve been staying in your room, alone, since you got back, flicking through the script for next week and for a new series Javi sent you this morning. “Ten episodes, HBO. Whichever role you want.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it turns out acting doesn't interest you that much and someone else would be more grateful for the opportunity. He also told you he offered Dieter the same project, who accepted it on the spot. But Dieter needs to complete Cliff Beasts first before this starts production, so you have time until then to tell Javi.

Who is now calling you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hey, baby.” His voice sounds tired and it’s barely dark. He’s been occupied with meetings and prep, hence his absence. “Wanna go for dinner in an hour?”

“I just finished eating room service. We could go for drinks, though?”

“I don’t wanna be buzzed. I need to be up early tomorrow,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I miss you.”

Your heart aches, knowing the effort he puts into his work and how much it means to him and Óscar. You know how badly he wants his production company to be on par with the big league studios. You know how much thought and research and passion he puts into each of his films. All of that doesn’t even count running his family business on top of everything too - the legal one, the only one that still exists. It hasn’t been the same since a new guy took over from his ex and because of that Javi has to be more hands on in every decision making, or so he told you.

“Miss you too. Where are you right now?”

“Amsterdam.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Didn’t I tell you this morning?”

Definitely no, you would’ve remembered. “No, but– why?”

“Business stuff. Anyway, I’m about to take off.”

“Okay, umm…” You try to think of an idea quickly, still dumbfounded by the new information. “Why don’t you… come over tonight?”

“I’m just gonna disappoint you, babe. I’m so tired.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t mean– we don’t have to– just have dinner here and sleep. Like, sleep sleep.”

There’s silence on the other hand as Javi thinks it over. 

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Two hours later, Javi rings on your door and you open it in your underwear and a loose t-shirt that doesn’t go past your waist. The way Javi’s eyes widen is so comical that you’d laugh if he didn’t immediately slam the door to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours as he does.

“Should’ve brought you with me… missed you so much.”

You whimper as you try to pry open his buttons. 

“I really can’t, baby…” He pulls your fingers off him, kissing each one before he lets go and rolls over onto his back. 

Next thing you know you hear his soft snores. His feet dangle from the bed and he’s still very much fully clothed. 

You give him a chaste kiss and pull the blanket over your bodies and fall asleep too.

✧

You wake up to the soft buzzing of a hair dryer and a ring of the doorbell. The room is dimmed and it’s still dark outside. You get up groggily to get the door and walk past the dining table filled with freshly prepared breakfast. Neat.

There’s no one outside when you open it, but an inconspicuous brown paper bag sits on the floor with a note attached that addresses the package to a ‘Mr. José Estrada’. What…?

“That’s for me, babe.” Javi comes out of the bathroom in a towel folded up to above his stomach and his hair uncombed. It’s… adorable. You’re still not awake enough to appreciate it and merely raise your eyebrows at the name on the bag. Javi shrugs and takes the package from you. “Clothes. Just to be careful. Mornin’.”

He leans down to kiss you but you turn away, muttering about morning breath. He snickers and goes back in to change.

Javi is still in the living room having breakfast when you emerge again, freshly showered too. He’s in a pair of slacks and a white half-buttoned shirt, like he just got home from work instead of going to it. He looks too devastatingly handsome for this early. He guides you by the back of your knees to sit on his lap and you definitely, definitely wobble.

“What are you doing today?” You ask him while he peppers kisses on your neck.

“On set for half the day. Then I’m free.” He pulls back to stroke your cheek. “Stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”

The implication is clear in his eyes. 

✧✧

Of course you didn’t get to find out what he was going to cook for you. What is it with the universe conspiring against you having a wholesome, uninterrupted night with this man? Okay, maybe that’s why, because you’re not really aiming for wholesome. Instead of his house, you’re at Carlotta with him and a few of his celebrity friends, including Dieter and Elise. It’s been three hours and the chatter has gone cold and the wine warm.

“...maybe it’s just like a month off? I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Apparently the other unions are considering it too.”

“What else?”

“Directors, Writers, Visual Effects, who knows what else. It’s gonna be chaotic.”

You don’t even care what’s being talked about anymore. Someone needs to get the bill before smoke comes out of your ears. You know you didn’t have to be here, of course, but you didn’t want to wait around in your room either and you were hungry. Javi had called you from set to let you know about this last minute dinner that someone arranged in the guise of business networking. Óscar still had scenes to direct and told Javi to go on his own. He knew Javi had nothing to do for the rest of the day. And Javi couldn’t exactly tell him he actually had plans with you.

You weren’t pissed initially - you were enjoying yourself, even. But the two smartly dressed thirty-something women four tables over who have been eyefucking Javi for the past half hour? The statuesque former VS model who sent him a negroni and her Ritz room key? That’s not even his drink of choice, you sneer in your head. Nice try.

You’re not jealous of them, no, Javi is going home with someone at the end of the night and it’s not with any of them. But the way he looks right now and the way that he’s wanted, turn you on so much. That pisses you off. Because this dinner couldn’t finish soon enough.

“I’m gonna drop by Loulou’s after this, you wanna come?” Elise asks next to you. “Ross is already there.”

You look over to Javi… who is signing the check, thank fucking God.

✧

Neither of you even made it to his house last night.

He’d barely parked his car, that ostentatious blue thing, in his driveway when you climbed over the console to sit on his lap.

“Thank you for dinner,” you murmured into his exquisite neck, leaving a mark with your teeth. Tacky, you knew.

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that to me,” he looked at you with a hint of wistfulness. You felt a pang in your heart at his confession.

“Of course I’m grateful, Javi.” You kissed him softly while you twisted the curls around the nape of his neck. “I’ll show you how much.”

Then his phone rang.

And it was Óscar telling Javi to go to his place for last minute rewrites, again.

So regretfully, he had to drop you at your hotel on the way. And naturally this morning you woke up really, really annoyed.

“You know what, this is ridiculous.” You call him over lunch. Room service, again.

“I agree.”

“We should clear out our schedule.”

“Let’s do that.”

“You know I mean yours, right?”

Javi sighs. “I know. I’m gonna sort that out right now. How was your sleep?”

“Eh. I’ve had better. Yours?”

“Shitty. I passed out on the floor.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. I’m getting a massage as we speak.”

“On set?”

Javi grunts and you snort in jealousy.

“Tell you what. Book a res–”

“Absolutely not. It’s never gonna happen if we go out, Javi. There’s always… something. Like… some kind of weird divine intervention.”

He giggles from the other side. Actually giggles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

Which makes him fully laugh. “I’ve cleared out my week. I’m all yours.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Daphne’s or Clos Maggiore?”

“Or.”

“Baby. Come on.”

“Let’s just… have coffee or something casual. That always works for us. Right?”

✧✧

It finally works. You spend the afternoon with him watching a movie at the Electric (and he booked out the entire place) and when you both couldn’t stop fooling around in the theater anymore, you make a run for the car. 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. You wanted me in your bed.”

Javi wastes no time speeding to his house. It’s not a long drive, but Javi makes the most of it. He snakes his hand up your dress and rubs your inner thigh, making sure his knuckles brush along your clit while he’s at it. It drives you crazy, and by the time you arrive at his house, you’re already a panting mess. 

He leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom, and you realize you haven’t been in it before. It’s not much of a difference from the room you’ve slept in aesthetic-wise, but it’s much bigger. Easily twice the size, plus a balcony with a small garden and a door that you assume leads to the bathroom and you don’t care what else because his lips are on yours and his hands are all over you as he walks you to the bed, pinning you down on it. 

“I had better plans than this.” He croons into your ear and sucks a spot under the lobe.

You sigh into him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Javi kisses along your jaw and lightly nips your chin. You grasp his shirt in surprise and he presses you deeper into the bed, making you even closer to him. His weight almost suffocates you, in a good way.

“You look fuckable in this, but it has to go.” He hooks a thumb under the strap of your velvet slip dress, your jacket long forgotten in the car. You nod, giving him permission, and he slips it past your shoulder, then past your tits still covered in a lacy strapless bra, then finally past your hips while he kisses the trail of exposed skin along the way. Javi groans loudly when he’s eye level with your crotch and he sees that your matching panties are soaked and that it’s a fucking thong.

“You are so pretty.” Javi kisses your mound over the material and hooks the string of your barely-there thong between his fingers, as if he’s contemplating whether he should take it off or take you in it. He grabs your thigh and slightly angles you to the side, tracing slowly to the one string swallowed between your cheeks, and his hand lands on your ass with a smack.

“Ah!” You exclaim in surprise and Javi takes the string just to snap it back on you with another light smack. 

“Fucking pretty all over.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” You say breathily.

“I know, baby.” Javi murmurs in between mouthing and biting on your thigh and kneading your ass. You’re too busy sighing out your pleasure that you don’t see his other hand about to palm your mound under your panties until you feel it. Javi takes his mouth off of you and sits back on his knees to watch you squirm under his touch.

“Javi…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you.”

“Hmm.” Javi continues grazing his fingers down to your lips, intentionally avoiding where you need him the most.

“Javi…” You fully lie on your back and spread your legs apart. “Take it off.”

Oh, how he’d love to. “I’m gonna take my time, honey.” Javi cups you over your panties and moves his palm up and down your pussy, spreading your wetness on yourself. “You made me wait. Now you wait.”

“Please, Javi. Touch me–”

“I am touching you.”

“I need you, please–”

“Love hearing you beg, baby.”

“Please please please–”

“Please what?”

You’re reduced to whimpering and you buck up your hips to meet his grounding palm. Your arousal is dripping even more now and it drives him crazy that you, the most beautiful woman that he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s wanted since that night in November, is on his bed. Begging for him.

Frustrated, you take the initiative to undo the front clasp of your bra. Javi stops his movements the moment he sees them and you swear his mouth drops open a little.

He’s had several ideas of what they would look like but his imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing. Yours are the perfect size for his hands and so soft under his touch. He runs his hand up between your cleavage before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You writhe under him, arching your back as he nibbles and laps on it and kneads the other one.

“More,” you groan.

“No,” he growls against your soft flesh.

“No?”

“Be patient.” You let out a cry when he bites your underboob. “These are so pretty, baby.”

You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair until he finally takes pity on you. He kisses the valley between your breasts before capturing your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Javi,” you whisper in between his hungry kisses. “I need t– I need to come.”

“Same here.”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

You guide his hand and let it rest between your legs, grinding onto his hand again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Just make me come, Javi. Do whatever you want with me.”

Desperation drips from your words and not only does it make him harder than before, it makes him smug too. He sits up on his knees, taking you in spread out on his bed with a hazy fucked out look on your face. And he technically hasn’t done anything yet. 

He undoes his cufflinks and pushes his sleeves up his veiny forearms. There’s something about the motion that makes him even sexier to you - and it makes you feel that way too. He pries open your thighs further and lowers his gaze down to your still covered pussy. You’ve dripped down onto his bed and he groans at the sight. He takes the strings between his fingers and slowly peels your thong off, much to your relief. He chucks it over his shoulder and drops onto his elbows. 

“You are the most fucking gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

You’re about to raise your head to see his face but before you manage to, you feel his tongue on your pussy.

“Oh, FUCK! Oh my god. Javi–” You grab a fistful of sheets under you as he slowly runs his tongue from your clit down to your entrance, and licks around your opening and tries to stick it into you. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. It was usually one or two pathetic kitten licks before they get up and dangle their dicks in front of your face. No one is as thorough as Javi, who makes you feel his mouth and whiskers in spots of you that you didn’t know existed.

You don’t realize that you said it out loud until Javi suddenly stops and looks up at you with glistening lips… and mustache. You feel a fresh wave of wetness flooding at the sight. This is what you’ve been imagining every previous night before. 

“Seriously?”

You don’t know if he’s confused or upset by what you said. Either way, you need him to go back to what he was doing. “Yes, Javi, please don’t stop.”

“You’re telling me you don’t usually get eaten out?”

“No, uh, not like this. Never like–” Your own moans cut you off as he goes back to pleasuring you and you cry out when you feel his nose bumps your clit. You’re lost in this new feeling. It’s true. Never like this.

But with Javi? Javi is enjoying himself. He eats you out like he can’t get enough and he can’t get to all parts of you that he wants to taste. He’s slow enough for you to feel every movement his tongue is making, but he picks it up at the right pace when he feels that you need more. You feel his hand slowly squeezing your right boob, and then your eyes fly open when he suddenly puts a thick finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and buck up to his lips.

“Fuck yeah. Be as loud as you want. You perfect little thing.” Javi shallowly thrusts it in and out of you. “Yours really didn’t fill you enough, huh?”

No. No, they didn’t. Javi’s one finger fills you so well you wonder how you’re gonna even be satisfied with yourself ever again after this. He hits the spots you never reached and makes you beg, and beg, and beg for more.

So he gives you more. He starts sucking your clit at the same time that he adds another finger into you. You don’t know what kind of noises you’re making anymore but it’s deprived enough that Javi groans into your pussy and the vibration and his hot breath make you keen even more. 

“Javi… faster, baby.”

“You’re not gonna come from my hand.” Javi says as he rolls your clit with his tongue. 

“But I’m close.” You whimper.

“I know. You’re so tight, fuck.” Javi raises his head to look at his fingers going in and out of you. They’re slick with your juices and he feels you pulsating around them whenever he drags them out, as if to keep him from not being inside you. “Think you can take my cock? Hmm?”

You gasp out a moan and he retracts his fingers completely. You’re getting too close to the edge and he doesn’t want you to come like this, no. Not by fingers or his mouth. He wants to feel you around him when you do. But that doesn’t stop him from tonguing you again and massaging your clit with his thumb until you’re panting and tugging hard on his hair that it hurts. Before you could go over the edge, he climbs over you and cages you in his arms, his mouth once again on your tits and smearing them with your wetness from his lips.

“Javi,” you grab his face in your hands and stroke his patchy, graying beard. “Please.”

You claw at his shirt, trying to open his buttons with trembling hands. He’s still fully clothed and it’s not fair. You manage to get the top two but then he untangles himself from you to stand at the foot of the bed… to rummage through his drawers.

“Fuck, uh… um… fuck.” Javi reaches into another one, turning it inside out, and starts rifling through a spare wallet he finds inside. “I don’t have condoms. Wait here. I might have some downstairs.”

You crawl over to him and stand on your knees, continuing to open his buttons. “I’m on birth control, Javi. And I haven’t been with anyone, so…”

Javi looks at you with his doe eyes, filled with lust, while you shrug his shirt off him. Are you saying…?

“I want you bare.”

Well, fuck me. If Javi weren’t already hard as rock before, then he doesn’t know what this is now. He’s never been bare with anyone since… who cares. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except you asking him to fuck you raw and now you’re palming him over his pants and literally, the world could be burning at this moment and Javi wouldn’t give a shit about it. 

“Want you in my mouth, daddy.”

“No,” Javi groans painfully. There is no way he’s surviving tonight. “I’ll come on your face if you do that now.”

“Want that too.” You pepper him with kisses across his chest while you undo his belt and unzip his trousers. When you finally lower his pants along with his boxer briefs, your mouth waters. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be when you grabbed him in his car last week. You need him in you, right fucking now.

But first thing first… he’s gonna pay for not making you come. You’ve been so desperate since the theater and by the looks of it, he’s no different. The head of his cock is an angry red and leaking with precum. You swipe it clean with your tongue and Javi’s hand immediately finds the back of your neck. You take his hard erection in your hand and start to jerk him off slowly, building a pace that you know will drive him mad. Javi has his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed deep, holding back from thrusting into your hand. 

You lick a long stripe from his balls to his tip and elicit a low moan from him. It’s addicting, listening to him. You do it a few more times until you feel his fingers curling on you. 

“Javi…” You let go of him and kiss your way up his stomach instead. He involuntarily sucks in and opens his eyes to you slipping his cock past your lips. He doesn’t stop you. The groan that comes out of him is so sinful it’s going to be permanently etched in your brain. His hand on your neck finds your ass and kneads it when you start working him slowly with your mouth. You gag a little when he hits the back of your throat. He’s a lot to take in; you don’t even get to the hilt, and you count your blessings for that.

You’re suddenly pulled away with a pop. He’s throbbing and from his breathing, he doesn’t look like he’s going to last long.

“You’re so big, Javi. Does it feel as good as it tastes?”

You start to take him into your mouth again but he grabs your arm to haul you to the center of the bed. He settles himself on you, rubbing up and down your opening with his cock. You start to meet his movement but he pins your hips down, restricting you.

“Come on, we’ve waited long enough,” you whine.

He lets his weight fall on you completely and hums his answer with his face pressed against the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting on your pussy and you’re so, so, so close to sobbing from need.

“Javi,” you whine again into his ear, arms clinging to his broad form.

Javi sits on his knees, watching you writhe underneath him. If he doesn’t come within one minute of being inside you, he’ll consider it a miracle. It’s his own fault for dragging it out this long and now he’s the one moments away from exploding. It’s worth it because you’re so fucking beautiful being all needy for him. 

He grabs you closer by your calves and wraps your legs around his waist, cock notched right at your entrance. Javi pushes forward and the sound he makes when he enters you is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. He works his way in slowly, letting you accommodate his girth. It’s a painful yet exquisite stretch.

You’ve never felt this full in your life. You’re not without experience, but the way Javi is filling you is something else. It’s not just his size, although that is a big part of it. It’s the way he’s gazing at you with so much tenderness. The way he’s moving as if he’s worshiping you with every stroke. The way he’s savoring this moment that you two have been waiting a ridiculously long time for. Your heart is full of–

“Baby. I don’t think I’ll last long.” Javi says with a strain in his voice. He’s holding back, with this languid (honestly, lazy) pace and he’s clenching his hands so hard you can see the veins in his forearms protruding. 

“I don’t care, Javi, just fuck me.”

He groans and starts to build a pace, gripping your thighs open. You throw your head back and hold on to the pillow closest to you. Javi’s eyes are glued to your tits bouncing by the impact of his thrusts and he tries to think of something, anything, except for the way your perfect body is responding to him right now. 

He remembers what you said about being essentially celibate since your last relationship and he doesn’t fight his curiosity. There’s a primal side of him that needs to know and the thought of your pathetic past conquests should buy him a couple more minutes, right?

“How long has it been for you, honey?”

“Mmmmm…” You roll your head back in pleasure, seemingly not hearing his question.

”When I ask something, I want an answer, sweetheart.”

“Two years? Mor–”

“Fucking unbelievable. This pussy should be fucked everyday, fuck.”

He curses between hard thrusts. Your mouth drops at his dirty talk and his pace increases to full on pounding. It doesn’t work. The thought of nothing having been inside you except for your own fingers and now him for that long is awakening something feral in him. 

You yelp. “Oh fuck yes, Javi…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck this everyday?”

“Whenever you want. Please.”

“You’re so needy.” He looks down to where you’re joined before grabbing your ass and driving into you even harder. “So needy and sloppy and so. fucking. tight.”

The moan you let out is downright the filthiest thing he’s ever heard. And you? You barely hear his deep, delicious voice over your own moans and the sounds your bodies make. You can’t do anything but take, take, and take. You wish you could reciprocate but what leaves your mouth is only a blabber of cries and whines.

“You want to come?” Javi’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Please, baby.”

“Then touch yourself and come.”

Javi pulls out of you and you gasp from the sudden emptiness. You sit up to reach for him but he moves further to the edge of the bed, his hand fisting his cock and pinching the end slowly, trying not to lose it.

“Javi, what the fuck?” You exclaim in despair.

“Let me see you touch yourself, babe. Come like that or not at all.”

“Oh my God, Javi.” You fall back on the bed in frustration. There is no way this is happening. “No…”

“Come, and I’ll fuck you again.”

You start reluctantly touching yourself slowly, hoping he’ll take pity on you and take over again. But he stays where he is, looking at your face, not even your body.

“If that’s how you touch yourself, no wonder you’re unsatisfied. Come on, make yourself feel good.”

You groan in defeat and he chuckles at you amusingly. Fine. You dip two fingers into your pussy and start moving them the way you usually do, and your other hand drops to your clit to rub it with your index finger. Your peak is approaching in no time, between your own familiar movements and watching Javi watching you. You start to arch off the bed when you’re close and suddenly your hands are taken off you and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees. 

Javi thrusts back inside you from behind without warning and resumes pounding you in earnest. “That’s right baby, take it… like you wanted… so fucking good for me…”

You come with a silent scream and Javi lets out a pained moan from you fluttering and spasming around his cock. His hands grip your waist to the point of almost hurting and he keeps steadily thrusting into you to seek his own release while you ride yours out.

He pulls you up against his chest by wrapping his arm around your tits and keeps hitting that devastatingly delicious spot inside you. With a few thrusts it starts you up again and you grind back on him, feeling the bump of his stomach on the small of your back with each contact. You look over your shoulder at his face and see that he’s in absolute bliss, but there’s something else there that’s a little bit… off. You don’t get to think too much about it once his fingers reach down to your clit and you start to tighten around his cock again, your hand reaching back to grab at his curls. 

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Fuck. Come with me. Come with me, honey.” Javi’s pace grows desperate and he’s so deep, so right inside you that you beat him to it. You shudder in his arms, going limp, but he doesn’t let up. “Tell me where.”

You sigh dreamily while you catch your breath. “Anywhere you want, daddy.” 

He pulls out and pushes you lightly to get back on your hands and knees and spills himself on the small of your back and between your cheeks. You lay down flat on your stomach, evening out your breaths, inhaling in the mixed scent of the two of you. 

It takes Javi a couple of minutes to collect himself before he kisses along your shoulder, up to your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips.

“You’re so fucking good, babe. Tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You giggle tiredly and lean onto him, welcoming his kisses while he cleans you up with his discarded shirt. “I need a drink. Then I want to ride you.”

✧

For the next four days, you barely leave the bed except to eat or use the bathroom. Just like Javi had promised. He didn’t get to cook dinner for you yet, because it’ll take too much time away from being inside of you. Everyday it’s like clockwork: one of you wakes the other up with your mouth, followed by breakfast in bed, or vice versa. Then shower, where he eats you out - he insists that he’s making up for your lost time. In the afternoons, Javi does some work while you read scripts or his books or nap. Then dinner, followed by fucking each other to sleep. Sometimes you interrupt him mid-task or wake him up in the middle of the night just because. And repeat.

It’s pure fucking bliss.

✧✧

“Javi. Fuck.”

“What’s up?”

“Everything is shutting down. Everything. Where the fuck are you?” Óscar’s voice sounds panicked through the phone. 

“I’m on leave, remember? What do you mean?”

“Strike, Javi. It’s all over the news. We gotta reschedule everything. We’re not even allowed to do anything.”

Javi swiftly opens his news app and sure enough, Óscar’s right. How did he miss this? Oh, right.

“Javi!!!”

“I’m here.”

“What do we do?”

Javi thinks for a moment but absolutely nothing comes to mind. This is completely novel for him. “We’ll figure it out. How long is this supposed to go on?”

“Two weeks. A month tops.”

“So there’s nothing to do. Keep everyone around, keep everyone updated, the usual.”

“We can’t, Javi. We’re not allowed to. We should just let them go for now, go see their families. They can’t be employed right now, same for us, by the way.”

“Dammit,” Javi runs a hand over his face. He’s only ever shut down production once, during The Last Sicario, when a rival family member felt misrepresented by his depiction of them and sent death threats to him and the crew. “Call it. Keep me posted.”

“Sure. One more thing, have you heard from our little starlet? I tried calling her all day, and her PA couldn’t reach her either. Her hotel said she’s not there.”

“Staying with a friend, maybe?” Javi feigns cluelessness.

“Can you try her? Let her know we’ll help her figure it out while this is going on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks, hermano.”

Guilt overcomes him once he hangs up and looks at you sleeping soundly, and naked, next to him. He’s betraying the closest friend he ever had and there would be no coming back from this if he found out. 

✧✧✧

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#fic: indiscreet #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi g fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedrostories #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo #the bubble #hollywood au

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not reacting/cheering for my aunt and her kids?

I (24F) am in an extended family groupchat. I usually do not have time to actually read all the messages, much less to write anything. I often open it and skim through the messages and everyone can see I've read them. Sometimes I do participate if it is a topic I can help with (I can usually help with plant related stuff, and I often jump right into a debate when I catch my aunties falling for facebook lies about ingredients or things like that)

Anyway, at one point my grandmother said that one of my aunts (35ish? I really don't know, sorry) was really sad I was not interacting with her messages at all. And while it wasn't intentional, it was true. I scrolled back to see what I've said to whom, and I never interacted with that aunt. But it wasn't because I did not like her, it was just... I had nothing to respond. I honestly do not care about her family having a trip to the zoo, what she had for lunch and I really did not watch 5 minute videos of her kid (2nd grade) playing football. So I just did not respond, because I had nothing to say and I wasn't interested. Besides, my other aunts interacted plenty with her, so I never thought I should be obligated to respond.

Anyway, I am usually fueled by spite, and my grandmother pointing that thing out had the opposite effect - I stopped interacting with the groupchat at all, even when I did have the time and something to say. I contemplated just leaving the groupchat, but I was tagged specifically one day to respond to something, so I stayed and tried to be nicer, just by leaving emoji's to that aunt's messages. However, life is life, and my efforts soon were forgotten because I just... don't have the energy.

However, one day, my aunt posted a facebook link to a post from a geography competition. And I was pretty sure my cousin (her son) won something, and I even opened the link, but there was a long list of kids and I just didn't bother to find my cousin's name there, so I, once again, did not react.

A day later my grandmother sent me the same facebook link and said my aunt would be happy if I reacted to the message in the groupchat. Which I think is ridiculous? Especially because the kid isn't even in the groupchat, and only his mother would see it? Anyway, I kind of got in a fight with my grandma about that, saying no one ever praised me as a kid for winning competitions, especially the same aunt who now feels bad for me not cheering her and her son on. So, I did not react to the message and once again went mostly silent in the groupchat.

But overall, I feel like I am the asshole for not being interested in the lives of my relatives and their kids. It really is not that hard to engage in groupchat conversations, right? However, I don't really want to act like I am interested, while I am not at all. Maybe I am cold hearted for not caring about their holiday trips, work/school events and minor health problems (eg someone having a fever).

However, to defend myself, I was actually very busy during the described events. I worked and studied full time (it is hell don't do it) (graduating soon though yeehaw), and most messages I read while walking from one point to another, skimmed through in the evenings before bed or when I was waiting in a queue for something. Moreover, the said aunt never has expressed any interest in my life, so I did not feel any obligation to be interested in her life. However, I never also said to anyone how I was doing, and no one really knew I was dying from exhaustion most of the time, so they probably assumed I was just... specifically being a dick.

So was I? Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[itsscromp]

Jaime Reyes/blue beetle x reader platonic

Welcome to another blue beetle fic, It's closer and closer by the minute. Even though I have to wait an extra month as it doesn't release in Australia until September lol. But for this fic, if anyone has seen Homecoming, you'll get the idea ;) word count:849

Jaime, Your best friend, The freaking Blue Beetle !!!, holy shit. When you first found out he was Blue beetle when he rescued you from coyote, You had to calm yourself and not go full nerd. He did just save you, But once you recovered and went back to school.

"Jaime, we gotta talk" You had to whisper so that people didn't know he was Blue beetle.

"y/n I know but please not right here"

"I know I know but..." He was right you had to keep quiet but you had a million questions and zero answers.

During different points of the day you asked a question relating to blue beetle.

"Can you summon an army of beetles ??"

"No"

"Is the amour titanium or something ??"

"No, it's extra terrestrial"

"Ok ok... Is the suit fart proof ??"

"What kind of question is that ??"

After school Jaime decided to show you the powers of blue beetle

"Ok Y/n, follow me. I'll show my powers. Just please no more questions"

"Alright alright."

Jaime then brought Y/n to a rural area just near the edge of El Paso to make sure no one see's his identity.

"Ok before I show you my powers. There's one thing you gotta see."

He turned around and lifted his shirt

"What are you do.. OH MY GOD !!"

His back revealing the scarab, wedged right into his back. No surgery seems to be getting that off anytime soon

"I know, it took me a while to come to terms with it as well"

Their was silence for a bit.

"Look I trust y/n ok, they won't reveal my identity ok ??"

"Uhhh, who are you talking too ??"

Jaime sighed, It looked like he was talking to himself.

"Its the scarab, I don't know how but it seems I can only hear it and talk to it"

"That's freaky but awesome."

"It is, but It's like almost being nagged by Mom."

Quiet again

"Look scarab just trust y/n ok ??"

It would take some getting used too to see Jaime talk to scarab.

"Anyway, Now my powers, with them, I can be able to summon anything just by thinking to scarab what I want."

"Wow, that's so cool !!" Y/n was smiling wide.

"Alright, so the first thing... the armour. Originally I could only do it when I was in danger. But I figured out how to summon it at will."

Then Jaime stood there, shutting his eyes. Withing seconds. the blue beetle armour started to take over him, the pincers popping out, his face then turning into a mask, his eyes glowing yellow.

"Pretty cool right ??"

"Oh my... HOLY SHIT !!!" you were bouncing from pure excitment.

"That was awesome !!"

Jaime couldn't help but smile under the mask from your excitement.

"You ain't seen nothing yet amigo."

*queue sword*

"Final fantasy fan I see."

"What the buster sword is a classic."

"OK what else can you do ??"

Jaime then summoned arm cannons, his hands melting and reshaping into cannons.

"Hell yeah !!, these bad boys are my favourite"

"Woah !!, ok uuh, test it on that boulder"

"Say no more"

Jaime then aimed at the boulder and with one blast the boulder was completely destroyed. But as Y/n was still in awe from it they didn't see a big chunk of the boulder falling to your direction.

"Jaime the boulder, it's gonna crush y/n !!" The Scarab warned him, Jaime quickly then pushed Y/n out of the way and caught the boulder with his bare hands, Struggling for a bit before tossing it away from harms reach.

"Are you ok y/n ??"

"Holy... You. Have. SUPER STRENGTH !!!!!"

Jaime started smiling again before the mask disintegrated revealing his face again.

"That is the power of the blue beetle y/n"

"This is awesome !!"

"But y/n look, real talk here buddy. While yes this is awesome to see, you can't go telling anyone about this, not even your dad or my family. Only you know about this." He took your hand and squeezed it, in a way of seriousness. "Can you promise to keep this secret for me ok ??"

Your smile faded slightly knowing the seriousness of the cause, You squeezed his hand back. "I promise Jaime, I promise."

"Thank you y/n" He smiled and hugged you tightly. "Your a great friend you know that ??"

"Can say the same to you" You smiled as you hugged him back

Jaime saw the sun setting before realizing he's been out all afternoon.

"Oh mierda, I gotta get home before mom kills me, I'll see you at school tomorrow ok y/n ??"

"Shoot I should get home too" You saw a bus stop and had some money, so you then went to the stop.

"See you tomorrow Jaime !!!"

Jaime waved goodbye before grabbing his backpack and activating flight mode, zooming back home.

You smiled as soon as you saw him fly off, Your best friend was a superhero. A freaking superhero. El Paso was in safe hands with Blue Beetle.

Taglist:@callofdudes

#platonic #blue beetle #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle x reader #platonic x reader #reader insert

[totesnothere04]

Unexpected Turn of Events Pt. 3

Tonowari x Fem!Reader

I do not own any fanart or screenshots used with my stories.

Warnings: Will not be 100% right with the events of ATWOW. Things are definitely not worded the same. Js.

Pt.2 here. Pt.4 here.

It had been weeks since you started being taught by Tonowari. Things had been going smoothly and you were learning in an accelerated rate. Right now you were making your way back to your marui after a day full of training. Mostly learning to ride a tsurak, because Tonowari has decided he feels that you're almost ready. He'd been giving you lessons on how to properly mount and keep hold of the beast. You had to admit that they were beautiful up close, and you were starting to feel comfortable around them. You were pulled from your reverie when you heard the horns sounding, and Tsireya rode past you on her ilu.

"Everyone our brothers and sisters have returned!" She called out and everyone started to jump into the water. You were watching with a small smile when Tonowari appeared infront of you on his tsurak.

"(Y/n) ride with me and meet my spirit brother." He said and you couldn't deny him. You had become very close to him in the time he had been teaching you. You sat behind him and wrapped your arms around his midsection. The two of you made your way to the tulkun and Tonowari got off of his tsurak to greet one. You assume it was his spirit brother from the happy interaction between them. Tonowari gestured to you and motioned for you to approach. You do so and he turns back to his spirit brother. He lets out a loud cry and Tonowari's smile is so wide it seems like he might split his face in half.

"Yes. Eywa and Ronal have blessed me." He signed to his brother who responded with another loud wail. "Yes, she is very beautiful.-" They continue to converse but the sound of a lonely song that you understood rang in your ears. You look around and find the source of the song. You go up to the surface for some air and then dive back down to the tulkun in question. She was beautiful and she had a calf with her. She seemed surprised when you swam up directly beside her and waved hello.

"Are you alright? I heard your cries from over there and wanted to make sure you were okay." You signed and she seemed to look directly into your soul.

"My sister died years ago. She promised me from the afterlife that she would send someone to take her place. But it has been a longtime." She says and you frown.

"I am sorry for your loss. Is there anyway that I may help ease your pain?" You ask her through sign and her eyes seem to widen.

"You can understand me?" She asks.

"Yes. Almost as though you were speaking directly into my mind." You tell her.

"It has been so long. Ronal has delivered on her promise. She sent me a new sister." The tulkun said and you had to remind yourself that you were underwater, therefore unable to gasp.

"What is your name?" You ask her.

"My name is Roa, and this is my calf." She said and seemed to move to a new position directly infront of you. "You are my sister. May we bond?" She asks and you nod. Unbeknownst to you, your absence next to the Olo'eyktan had gained his attention along with Jake and Neytiri's. The three had gathered and watched you interact with the tulkun with interest. Roa's mouth opened wide and you got the gist and swam forward into her mouth. Her mouth closed and you continued to float forward until a glowing part inside of her unfurled. You assume it was her queue so you pulled yours infront of you, and connected them. Both of you shared your memories with one another, and you smiled as she showed you memories with Ronal and them singing together. Every bit of your lives shared with eachother as though you were both there for everything. When the bond was done you exited her mouth at her prompt and went to the surface for air. You went back into the water and continued to speak with her.

"You were a sky person?" She asks and you deflate a bit.

"Yes, but you could see why I do not associate with them any longer. Their planet is dying, they are trying to kill this planet as well, and I refuse to be one of them." You tell her and she nuzzles the tip of her nose to you and you pet her.

"You were as beautiful then as you are now. I hope you and Olo'eyktan are happy together once you pass your iknimaya. Tonowari deserves happiness after the tragedy that befell his family with Ronal." Roa said.

"I do not want to replace a woman as mighty as Ronal. I can only hope that I can come somewhat close to who she was." You signed.

"As humble as she was I see. You will make a beautiful Tsahík when the time comes." She says and you smile softly. Her eyes shift behind you. "We have company sister." You turn to find Tonowari and your two friends.

"Roa I see you have found your new sister." Tonowari greets her.

"Yes, and isn't she beautiful!" Roa exclaims excitedly.

"What did she say (Y/n)?" Tonowari asks.

"She said, 'Yes, and isn't she beautiful!'" You translated to him and his eyes soften drastically as he looks into your eyes.

"Yes. Yes she is Roa." Tonowari signs and Roa seems to chortle with laughter of some kind.

"Smitten already Olo'eyktan." Roa seems to joke and you smile brightly at what she says.

"I am smitten with him as well Roa. He is a beautiful soul, and an amazing father and leader." You sign to her well aware that Tonowari can understand what you're saying. You look over to him and his cheeks have flushed at your words.

"Hoping for some of your own someday then?" Roa asks.

"Yes. In my human form, I was past safe childbearing age. In this form, I feel younger and safer to have children." You sign to her and she wails happily.

"We are about to travel sister. I will see you again soon." Roa says and you nod.

"I am very happy you are my sister, Roa. You have a beautiful calf, and I wish you safe travels." You sign to her and she leaves with her calf. When you surface with Tonowari, Jake, and Neytiri they all cheer. Tonowari pulls you onto the back of his tsurak and cheers loudly for everyone to turn to him.

"We have a new bond!" Tonowari announces to the clan and everyone cheers happily. He turns to you with a proud look. "You are ready." He states and your breath hitches in your throat. Jake and Neytiri show you wide smiles as they tap your sides and you blush. You spent the rest of the afternoon with Tonowari, Jake, and Neytiri and noticed something odd.

"It's been awfully quiet since the Tulkun left." You said and the others seemed to notice the foreboding silence.

"Has anyone seen the kids since the tulkun?" Jake asks and you shake your head Neytiri and Tonowari also shaking their heads. Ra'ina knocks on the side of the entrance to Tonowari's marui.

"(Y/n), my son hurt himself on the coral while he was hunting with his friends." Ra'ina said somewhat rushed and you stood quickly.

"What color was the coral?" You ask and she shakes her head.

"I don't know. I just saw the blood and that it would need stitches and came to you immediately." She admits. You turn to the others and Tonowari nods once to dismiss you.

"I understand ma (Y/n). I will let you know when the children are located." Tonowari says and you nod. You turn and follow Ra'ina back to your marui.

"We brought him here hoping you were here, but you weren't. I am sorry to disturb your day." She says and you shake your head.

"No need for apologies. Your son's health matters more than freetime." You say as you burst into your pod and go to the teenage boy. "What color was the coral you injured yourself on?"

"It was red with blue veining." The boy says weakly. You grab the box with your supplies and start grabbing what you need and applying the necessary salves and ointments. You disinfect the wound then start applying the necessary healing salves and wrap his wound in seaweed bandages.

"He will have a fever for a few days, but he will be okay. Do not allow him in the water and he should try to keep unnecessary movement to a minimum. Take this with you and he will be fine within the next few days." You told Ra'ina and she nodded with a thankful smsmile.

"Thank you Tsahík." The boy says tiredly and you shake your head.

"It's no problem child, but I am just a healer." You tell him.

"Tell that to Olo'eyktan." He jokes and then laughs at his joke only to grimace and stop.

"Maybe work your way into joking child." You tell him.

"I will carry him home." His father says and you nod.

"It will probably be best. He doesn't need to flex his muscles too much or his stitches could pop and an infection could set in. Ensure that he eats three healthy full meals a day." You tell them and they nod. His father picks him up and the family leaves back to their marui. You clean up the area and decide to go back to Tonowari's marui. Jake and Neytiri standing just outside didn't go unnoticed by you or the crowd of all of their children just inside.

"Sit." You heard Tonowari say and you entered the marui.

"Sorry I was late." You whisper to him and he offers you a hand to sit next to him. You accept and lower yourself onto your knees next to him.

"I said sit down!" Tonowari yells when he notices that Lo'ak was the only one who sat down. Tsireya looks as though she's been crying and Ao'nung looks like he's restraining himself from going and comforting her.

"Uhm... What happened in my absence?" You ask the room but instead, a pregnant silence answered you.

"My children allowed Lo'ak to bond with an outcast tulkun named Payakan." Tonowari told you and you looked at him confused. "I will explain later yawne." He whispers and you nod.

"Sir, payakan isn't a killer. He saved my life." Lo'ak spoke for the first time since you arrived.

"You will listen to me boy. Payakan is outcast for a reason. He killed many tulkun and Na'vi." Tonowari said in a harsh quiet voice only a leader could produce. A voice that Jake's children had heard many times before, and you, yourself had been on the receiving end of once.

"No. He is a good tulkun." Lo'ak argued calmly.

"That's enough." Jake said to Lo'ak but he ignored his father as usual.

"I saw everything. He wanted to put a stop to the tulkun hunters. The sky people killed those tulkun and Na'vi." Lo'ak said and Jake walked forward and squatted menacingly next to his son.

"I said that's enough." Jake whispered harshly in Lo'aks ear and you couldn't help but shiver at the threatening tone.

"In the earliest songs, the tulkun fought for territory and spread violence. They eventually came to an understanding and vowed off violence. This is the tulkun way, and because of this Payakan is outcast. He gathered those Na'vi and other tulkun, he led that attack, and he was the only one to survive." Tonowari told Lo'ak who seemed to be keeping himself from rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry sir, but you're wrong. I just know what I know." Lo'ak says and you tap Tonowari. He looks at you and you gesture to Lo'ak silently asking if you may butt in. He hesitates then nods and you both turn back to Lo'ak.

"Lo'ak what Olo'eyktan is trying to say is that their way is a way of peace and tranquility. A way that Payakan strayed from when he decided to attack the sky people. He is not saying that trying to fight the sky people is wrong. Only that it is not the way of the tulkun to fight... That is our place. To protect our brothers and sisters in their times of need." You tell him but he shakes his head and looks back at Tonowari.

"Can I be dismissed now?" Lo'ak asks calmly but with an edge and Tonowari shoos him away. You stood up and went over to Tsireya and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright Reya?" You asked her and she looked up at you with teary eyes.

"I have duties to attend." She responds then briskly leaves. You turn to Tonowari and quirk a brow.

"I will explain." He says and the two of you stand to the side of his marui and he takes a deep breath. Then he explains everything that happened and what was said and when.

"Wari... I know you were upset, but you will need to apologize for what you said to your daughter. I know she means everything to you, and it must've hurt you to say those things to her. I know that we as adults say things in anger to our children, but as adults, we must also realize that we must apologize for wrong things we said." You tell him. "It teaches them accountability. Shows them that even though we are their elders we know how to acknowledge our mistakes."

"I know, but she knows better than to allow someone to bond with an outcast tulkun. She just stood by and watched instead of interfering and stopping him." Tonowari says and you sigh.

"Ma Tonowari..." You say quietly and cup his cheek. "If there's anything I know about Lo'ak he inherited both of his parents' stubbornness. Even if she had intervened she wouldn't have been able to stop him. He would've pushed past her to do it anyways. Tsireya is a good child and doesn't deserve to be punished for Lo'aks wrongdoing." You tell him and he sighs as he nuzzles into the palm of your hand. He reaches up and grabs your hand hmwith his own and kisses your palm.

"Come. Jake and I have decided to get you to ride tsurak today. We still have plenty of daylight." Tonowari said and led you over to Jake who was waiting outside of the marui.

"Look at her Tonowari... She's pale." Jake jokes and you smack his arm. "Ow! Again with the abuse."

"In order for it to be abuse you have to be mine to abuse... And no offense to Neytiri, but I do not want to have to deal with what she deals with when it comes to you. I like my men calm and collected. Not dumb and rash." You jest with him and he mocks offense.

"I'm hurt. I thought you loved me." Jake said with fake hurt in his voice.

"Skxawng." You whispered but both men obviously heard as they both chuckled.

"Yeah well I doubt you'll beable to hold on. If I couldn't how are you going to?" Jake fired back.

"Unlike you, I've taken the time to train with an ilu to better prepare me for this moment, Sully." You said and he sighed exaggeratedly. The three of you now stood in the water for Jake and Tonowari it was waist-deep, but for you, it was chest deep. The two men had called on two others to bring over the tsurak and help hold him in place. You stared at the back of the beast trying not to laugh at how short you still were. Jake noticed and choked back a chuckle.

"Shut it skxawng. You used to be shorter than me." You said and he rolled his eyes as he looked at you.

"I was literally crippled." Jake deadpans and you chuckle then jump up onto the back of the tsurak.

"Remember (Y/n). When you dive into the water position is very important." Tonowari says seriously and you nod.

"Wish me luck." You say after you make tsaheylu and level your breathing with the tsurak. After you stabilized your bond you motioned for them to let go, and off you went. Keeping a tight grip on the handle and keeping your position correct. You finally dove under the water and kept ahold of the handle and you went back above the water. Both Tonowari and Jake joined your sides on their tsurak and Jake yips excitedly. You look at Tonowari and he smiles wide and proud then joins Jake with you following shortly after. A shadow flies over the three of you and you look up to see Neytiri she joins her mate in yodeling at your success. The four of you meet back up in the shallows and Tonowari picks you up in excitement. A decent amount of the village had gathered to watch your last rite of passage. Everyone gathered on the shore cheered happily as Tonowari turned you to face his clan.

"You are now an acknowledged adult in the eyes of the people. Now you may pick a mate." Tonowari whispers in your ear and you blush at his words.

"I already have, and I have a feeling he has picked me as well." You say bashfully and he smirks.

"And you're so sure?" Tonowari asks with a teasing tone.

"Hmm maybe he hasn't." You said with a fake pout and he chuckles and nuzzles into your neck.

"I want to do this in the traditional sense. I want to court you properly, ma (Y/n)." Tonowari says tenderly and your heart melts.

"Then who am I to stand in your way?" You ask with a soft voice and he smiles.

"Thank you. Now I believe there is a celebration for you." Tonowari says and leads you to the crowd on the beach. The moment you're on the beach you're tackled in a hug by several sets of arms. Loud yipping and cheering can be heard from the children crowding you.

"Neteyam... I can't breath." You tell the boy who has latched onto your midsection and started to squeeze as hard as he could.

"Sorry Auntie. I'm. Just proud." Neteyam says bashfully.

"It is alright Nete." You say with a faint smile as his siblings now bombard you with questions and happy chattering. Tonowari watched as you interacted with his and Jake's kids and how you treated them as your own. His mind drifted off to thinking about you interacting with the children the two of you might have in the future.

#tonowari x reader #tonowari #avatar twow

[moriartyluver]

ARE YOU MINE CHAPTER III

"FIFTY QUID FOR A CUP OF COFFEE?!”

"Keep your fucking voice down, Sherly!" (Name) whisper-yelled at the noirette "We didn't come here to drink the stupid overpriced coffee anyways." 

It was a Monday afternoon, about 4 ish now, and (Name), as well as her fellow band mates, had the bright idea to go to an expensive coffee shop in central London. 

So here they were, in an exclusive coffee shop full of white men in suits or stressed out secretaries, and the occasional rich women hanging out. 

"Kopi Luwak.." James muttered "What even is that..? It's so damn expensive..."

"Bet you could still afford it with those sugar daddies of yours," Sherlock remarked before (Name) kicked his leg under the table to shut him up 

Obviously they weren't here without reason. (Namen had seen a TikTok talking about all the places to find a rich boyfriend, which she wasn't really interested in, but she decided that because coffee shops usually were full of businessmen around this time of day, it would be a perfect place to find themselves a rich manager. 

John took out his phone, Googling the expensive coffee, before showing James and Sherlock who sat opposite in the little booth with wide eyes. 

"It's made of what?!" James exclaimed 

"You guys didn't know that?" (Name) raised an eyebrow 

"What and you did?" Sherlock mimicked "No wonder..you're always picking up random facts." 

"Why would they drink that crap in the first place anyways?" James asked, looking through the Wikipedia article on John's phone. "Like why do they need a weird cat raccoon thing to eat the coffee cherries and then take their poop for the coffee..?"

"It more because of processing rather than the actual crap that comes out." (Name) said "Hey what if I order a large cup of plain coffee and then get some extra cups for free so we don't look stupid while also not spending a shit ton on coffee either?" 

"Good idea, I'm not paying." Sherlock said bluntly 

"Fucking cheapskate." (Name) rolled her eyes "I have enough to buy a cup but it's like twenty quid for a large cup...I'll make sure to get as many sugar packets as possible, okay?" She said, standing up to go order at the counter. Everyone nodded, prompting (name) to leave. 

As she waited in the queue, a man carrying three cups on coffee as well as a few biscuits and cakes in little boxes. His arms were full and he was clearly struggling to keep everything together, not to mention, he looked exhausted! 

With the current rush in the coffee shop, it wasn't really that surprising, but based on the man's appearance, he did seem to be quite the wealthy businessman. She could see the little Cartier watch on his wrist and his suit was clearly expensive. 

Another, likely wealthy, businessman and walked right by him, ruining the balance of items and causing the brown haired gentleman to drop his coffee cups. (Name), who's attention was turned away for a moment as she moved along in the queue, turned around as if she had spidey sense or something. 

Before they could hit the ground though, (name), who was stood fairly close, managed to catch it all in time, almost comically. 

'How the fuck did I manage that..?'

'How on earth did she manage that..?'

"Yikes .." (Name) chuckled awkwardly, "that was a close one" she said, handing the items to him with a small smile. She looked up and met eyes with the stranger, her mind racing back to the other day. 

"You're.." The green eyed man muttered to himself, recognising her as the girl Herder knew of as (Name) 

"I see my reputation really does precede me.." She hummed "The world really is small, huh?" 

"it is indeed," Albert smiled "I've heard..great..things about you and your band." 

(name) blinked in surprise "Really? because I'd expect that Mr Von Herder would paint me out as some sort of war criminal..hah.." her eyes drifted back to the rest of the band in their little booth "I'm assuming he told you about my little musical ambitions.." she said as Sherlock mouthed a 'the fuck are you doing?' to her  

"He did," Albert confirmed with a nod, then looked to his watch on his wrist, cursing under his breath "Deepest apologies, but I must be going..my brothers are waiting for me." He said, somehow retrieve it a business card from his pocket and handing it to a dumbfounded (Name) before taking off. 

Her eyes scanned the card. 

Albert J. Moriarty 

'What a fancy name..' 

(Name) eventually came back as planned, the business card in the pocket of her jacket, and a large cup of black coffee, a few empty cups and a lot of sugar packets. 

"So, were you just eyefucking that rich guy or am I high?" Sherlock asked, right before (name) kicked him in the shin. "Ow!" 

"I wasn't.." she raised her eyebrows, moving her eyes around in a strange manner, conscious of  the members of polite society around them "you know..you lot couldn't hear me, but rich guy was at Herder's the other day, and I just happened to remember him while he was about to drop all his stuff and have a big dramatic disaster." She said, sitting down beside Sherlock, opposite James, who looked anxious to say something. 

"Anyways," (Name) continued with a grin. "He gave me this." She slid the business card onto the middle of the table, recreating that one scene from 'American Psycho' "mission: find potential manager is a success!"  

John picked it up, inspecting it closely, then put it back on the fancy table "this is legit! The card and the font and everything, it looks like a real rich guy business card." 

"I don't think I've ever heard you say legit before." Sherlock said "also how do you know so much about business cards?" 

"A lot of old guys think I'm gay." 

"Moving on," James said, giving John a little side eye before allowing a wide smile to creep up onto his already cheerful face "I have some news~" 

"You're starting an onlyfans?" (Name) asked 

"No-" James scrunched up his nose, looking offended "I, your extraordinary bassist, got us a gig." 

"You did?!" (Name) exclaimed "Are you for real?!" 

"I did indeed," he said smugly, leaning back in the plush seat  "It's a birthday party-" 

"I knew there was gonna be a catch," (Name) sighed, resting her forehead against the table as Sherlock gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. 

James shook his head "it's not a kid's party, don't worry. The birthday girl's turning 18 and she wanted the party to be like a concert I guess, so she wants us to do a hunch of Arctic monkeys covers instead of the usual stuff," he explained 

"If she wanted a concert, then why doesn't she just go to one?" Sherlock groaned 

(Name) lifted her head up "in what universe would the Arctic monkeys play at a birthday party full of kids? Besides, they're not on tour in the uk anymore, so it's not like she could go to a concert for her birthday either." She said "I mean, it's fine as long as the songs she picks out are good...I don't wanna have to play any of the TikTok famous ones anymore." 

"She seems like the type to like every song, but the list I've got is a bit of a mix," James said, pulling out his phone, reading off his notes app "Teddy picker, Bet you look good on the dance floor, cigarette smoke..stuff like that." 

"Well that's bearable then," (name) nodded "When's the party?" 

"Uhhh.." James trailed off nervously "Friday.." 

"Oh, next Fridays alright, a bit soon, but we can manage," she said, brushing away her hair from her face 

"I mean, this Friday..like in four days.." The blond sank into his chair, bracing himself for (Name)'s reaction. 

"What?" She blinked "Are you fucking shitting me?" 

"It'll be fine, (name)," Sherlock reassured, dragging his words  "you always work best under pressure anyways." 

"Yeah well you lot clearly fucking don't." (Name) glared at her friend beside her, then sighed deeply "Okay, this is fine. We'll have to start practicing all the songs immediately, it should be fine considering we've done most of them already," she muttered to herself "The band t-shirts I ordered should be here by Wednesday..we'll be fine..we'll be fine." 

The noirette groaned "see, you're freaking out over nothing."

"As usual." James added. 

(Name) rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee. "As the band leader, I'm the one who needs to be in charge of things until we get a manager, that means I have the right to freak out over this shit." 

"Who made you band leader?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. 

(Name) scoffed "you think you would do any better? I literally just got us a potential rich manager just by being pretty and memorable. Besides, I'm the leader singer  and guitarist, and the only girl and we all know girls are much more mature than you xy chromosome havers." she said, putting a hand to her chest. 

"She has a point." John agreed 

"Shut up, John." Sherlock kicked him beneath the table. He turned to (name) "So are we gonna start practicing today or..?" 

"I don't know, do you want to sound like shit or..?" (Name) mimicked. "Of course we'll practice today, we don't have that much time, stupid." she said, standing up "We need to make use of the next 100 or so hours we have left." 

"You calculated it?" James asked

She rolled her eyes again "Obviously." 

"I literally have nothing to wear, James, I'm freaking the fuck out," (Name) spoke to her phone, propped up on her desk as she walked around the room "I mean I'm not much of a party goer, so obviously I'm not gonna have party clothes, but I thought, maybe I'd have something!" 

James sighed, his face filling the screen on (name)'s phone as they FaceTimed. "Just put on one of those shirts and a pair of bootcut jeans and you're done." He suggested as she dug through her wardrobe. 

"No, I need something wow, you know. Something that'll make an impression." She said, pulling something out from the hangers. A cheetah print coat. "Perfect." 

"What is it?" James called out to her 

"I just so happened to find this old thing," she said, going back to her phone and showing him the jacket "If anything I own screams arctic monkeys, this definitely does." 

"Ohh..that is clever. You put on some red lipstick and a pair of boots and you're done, might as well change your name to arabella." James smiled before returning to his mirror to apply some eyeliner. "Do you think sherly and John would be ready by now?" 

(Name) rolled her eyes as she's looked for a pair of jeans/black skirt to wear with band t shirt she had got and a pair of black boots, putting her phone down so James could only see her cieling while she changed. "Knowing sherly, he's probably asleep or something. I swear if he didn't wear that outfit I planned for him, I'll beat his ass." 

"Yeah, he really suits that whole emo boy look, I think it's the hair." James agreed as (name) propped her phone back up once she was done. "I'd bring some eyeliner and eyeshadow just in case be does use the cheap stuff you lent him." 

"I'd be surprised if he even managed to open the makeup at all by himself, he's so incompetent." She sat down, quickly putting on her makeup, messing it up on purpose

James laughed "Well at least he can play guitar, half decently." He said "Hey you think I should look through my 2020 alt stuff, see what I can salvage?" 

"God no." (Name) advised. "Unless you plan on getting tomato's thrown at you the entire gig." 

"Yeah you're right," the blond admitted "those boots have outgrown me anyways since I started taking hormones." He said, putting down his eyeliner. "You done yet?" 

"Mhm." 

"Gimme a spin, we need to mutually agree on your cuntiness." James said, his voice going up a couple octaves. 

(Name) snorted in amusement, backing away once she'd finished so he could see her full frame, twirling around, kicking her leg up to the back of her knee as she posed, eliciting a few cheers and 'yas queen slay!'s  (Obviously not in a serious sense) from James. He even took a few screen shots so he could post them on his Instagram story after the 'concert'. 

"Alright. I'm gonna hang up now,so I can get going." She said eventually, thumb hovering over the 'end call' button. "Call sherly and tell him to be at john's in like Ten minutes ish. He's driving us, Yknow." 

"Yeah cool." James said, fixing up his smudged eyeliner, emphasising those bright blue eyes of his. "I'll remind him of your little murder threats, too if you want." 

"Alright, see you later." (Name) chuckled hanging up. 

"Look who's not an hour late," (name) called out her friend as she saw him approaching johns house just as she was about to knock on the door. 

"Look who isn't an hour early," Sherlock retorted. His deep blue eyes landed on a little waggon beside her feet. "Is that..?" 

"My guitar and amp? Yeah, it is." She looked at sherlocks own equipment on his old skateboard "I'm assuming we had a similar idea, just different executions. Just goes to show why I'm smarter than you." 

"Tell that to your exam results." He spat 

(Name) scoffed "as if yours are any better." 

"Bitch." 

"Druggie." 

"Punk." 

"Emo." 

Sherlock gasped dramatically "I am not an emo!" 

"Well either that or your zesty," (name) smirked "I mean, with that hair, you definitely have tried a little more than most." 

"I'll have you know I've only ever been attracted to p-" Sherlock was cut off by the door opening, revealing John and James at the door. 

"There you two are!" John beamed. He looked his usual self, but instead of his usual dull jumper, he wore a black t shirt with the words 'Baker Street boys' in a thick white font, just like the other members, except Sherlock was wearing a pair of baggy dark jeans with an embroidered skull to match his skull ring, (name) was..slaying, to put it simply and James was wearing a pair of pair of straight legged jeans, covered in rhinstones to match the glitter on his eyes. 

"Alright, we all ready? We need to hurry if we wanna get there on time." James said, exiting the door to walk towards johns old car. "Put your stuff in the back and we'll get going." 

"Didnt you say we'd be going to one of those rich neighbourhoods?" (Name) asked, putting her guitar in the boot of the car carefully. 

"Yeah," James nodded, opening the door to the passenger seat "The kids turning 18, so her parents let her do whatever the fuck she wanted. One of those new money types, you know." 

"That explains the money we're getting then." Sherlock said, shutting the door to the boot "If we can get more of their little rich friends to hire us for a parties or something, we'll be rich in no time." 

"Which will only happen if we don't play like shit." (Name) said harshly as she put on her seatbelt "You guys remember the song list?" 

"Considering we've been playing it non stop since Monday, yes, yes we do." James peaked behind his seat to look at her. He looked at Sherlock sat beside her. "You need to get your make up done before we start playing." 

"It's not my fault that shits so difficult." Sherlock groaned, folding his pale arms over his chest "Cant we just do it before we start playing?" 

(Name) sighed "you really are incompetent, arent you?" 

"At least my parents love me." 

"Are you the band?" A girl, about 19 or 20, asked the four at the door. 

(Name) held up her red guitar "obviously." She said "Where should we set up?" 

"Follow me," the girl said, guiding them through the large house to a big hall "There's only a few people here, you're lucky you arrived early." She explained while the band dragged their equipment in there. "You can set up in here, get the band stuff out that car, and you can start playing when there's like more people or whatever. The birthday girl's with her friends right now, but she'll come in here soon." 

"Alright, thanks." James murmured as she walked away "god this place is fucking huge." He said, turning to (Name) who was busy plugging her amp in

"I hate rich people." She whispered to him "Bet they have a pool or like a cinema room or some shit...Wonder how they could afford all this." She turned to Sherlock who had a blank expression "go help John get his drums in, dude." Sherlock rolled his eyes, walking out and dumping his guitar on the floor. 

"Her dad's an mp and her mums like a model, vogue and everything," James said, setting up his bass guitar 

(Name) narrowed her eyes at him as she put the mic down "how do you know that?" 

James chuckled nervously "err..google?" 

"Whatever." She said, turning her attention to Sherlock and John who were bringing in the drums. "Hurry up, I heard some cars pulling up out there. We still have a couple of things to do." 

"Actually we're pretty much done after we put these instruments in place," John said matter of factly then paused "oh wait, Sherlock needs to do his Makeup." 

"You're making me sound like a girl." Sherlock glared "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. (Name), can't you help me out?” He begged with a whiney voice. 

“Sit down.” She said, pointing to the drummers stool before pulling out her makeup bag, kneeling before him. “Close your eyes.” She said, applying dark blue eyeshadow on the centre of sherlocks eyelids, surrounding it with glittery black eyeshadow on the edges. She took out an eyeliner pencil, asking Sherlock to open his eyes again and look up while she applied it to his waterline, smudging it slightly. 

“Done.” She held up her pocket mirror to his face. He took it, looking at his eyes slowly. “You look like Effy stonem if she was a guy.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sherlock said, shutting the motto and handing it back to (name) who was putting away her makeup. “Thanks.” He said reluctantly. 

“Don’t mention it.” (Name) stood up, checking the mic to make sure it was working correctly. 

John peaked outside the open entrance, looking down the hall to see a storm of teenagers, mostly 17 and 18. He turned to the band, sitting down by his drums “ready?” 

“Barely.” (Name) groaned, watching the crowd gradually form while someone switched off the lights. She could smell the faint stench of alcohol flood the air, along with the scent of body odour and..was that weed..? 

“PST,” someone hissed from the side of the makeshift stage. It was the girl from earlier, the birthday girl’s older sister. “Hurry up, these kids are waiting.” She whispered 

(Name) ran a hand through her (hair colour) hair, messing it up on purpose as she picked up her guitar, leaning forward to the mic in front of her. 

(Quick A/N: this is the first song btw, super good, please listen to it.) 

It made a loud noise before she spoke. “Um..we’re the Baker Street boys,” she said nervously “Happy birthday,” she shut her eyes trying to remember the name 

“Tabitha, happy birthday Tabitha.” She repeats. “My name’s (Name), f-from the Baker Street boys, here with Sherlock,” cue a few giggles at his name “James, and our drummer, John.” She hesitantly smiled. “And this is ‘I bet that you look good on the dance floor, by the Arctic Monkeys, which is funny because uh..we’re doing only arctic monkeys covers today, haha.” 

Crickets. 

“A-Anyways, make some noise, or whatever.” She muttered as she took a deep breath, strumming her guitar while John started drumming. “Stop making the eyes at me, and I’ll stop making the eyes at you.” Her voice had cracked mid line in a whine, but somehow she had pulled it off, sparking a few of the sweaty teenagers to start singing along, despite it not being a typical TikTok song. 

“What it is that surprises me is that I don’t really want you to,” she sang, gripping the mic with one song whilst the rest of the band played in the background. 

Surprisingly or not, (name) was stiff, lacking any stage presence she may have previously had while she attempted to sing and play at the same time. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but thank god Sherlock was there as the backup guitarist. 

“And your shoulders are frozen,” She continued, slowly getting more confident 

“Cold as the night!” 

At least the others managed to remember to do back up vocals. 

“Oh but you’re an explosion!” (Name) had slowly begun to realise the rawness in her voice actually made this particular cover sound fairly good, and with the encouragement of those around her, the confidence had started to settle in. 

“You’re dynamite!” 

“Your name isn’t Rio but I don’t care for sand and lighting the fuse might result in a bang b-b-bang-oh!” She sang, fingers pointed in a gun while the other strummed at the guitar strapped over her chest “I bet that you look good on the dance floor, I don’t know if you’re looking for romance or, I don’t know what you’re looking for! I said I bet that you look good on the dance floor, dancing to electro pop like a robot from 1984, well from 1984!”  

“I wish that you’d stop ignoring me because it’s sending me to despair. Without a sound, yeah you’re calling me, and I don’t think it’s very fair,” she raised her voice slightly as she tried to sing over the increasingly loud crowd before her, her body much less stiff than when she started. She continued with the chorus, earning a few cheers as the band played better with each passing second. 

“Well from 1984..!” She almost panted, losing breath as she strained her vocal chords “Oh, there ain't no love, no Montagues or Capulets, Just banging tunes and DJ sets and dirty dance floors and dreams of naughtiness” 

While she sang that particular line, a face popped into her head, or rather the face. What was the posh blond man doing in her thoughts while she was screaming her lungs out singing some indie rock song? 

“Well I bet that you look good on the dance floor! I don’t know if you’re looking for romance or what, I don’t know what you’re looking for!!” Frankly, she doubted she would ever see him again, as upsetting as that seemed. Not like she had much of a chance though. “I said, I bet that you look good on the dance floor,” it would be funny, a smart guy with a rockstar wannabe like her “d-dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984,” She did want to see him again though…but he was probably an apparition or something, that explained why he looked so angelic. No. She had to see him again some day.

“Said from 1984!”

A/N: I wonder what will happen next >:). I’m so sorry for those who are only reading for Liam, I promise he’s gonna make another appearances in like a couple of chapters. Also this arc is kinda inspired by the Pistols series so watch that because it’s so good. Off topic but I got a cat and he’s so cute but also looks like Alex turner it’s hilarious.

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp william #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #—are you mine 🎸

[ryehouses]

Boba PoV request (now they have thier own special fic and all) anything to do with his pool / bath / oasis please 😍

OHO ASK AND RECEIVE, MY GOOD FRIEND, YEAH I'VE GOT SOME STUFF FROM BOBA'S FANCY TATOOINE JACUZZI.

i also have been really good about revision this week, so i do have a different pov set up to post in the queue once a day for the next week or so, thank you all for your patience, i love you, et cetera et cetera.

this snippet is set during chapter 19, "pirun," and features some flirting, some introspection and some ~~boba angst. enjoy!

in which a conversation has more edges than usual.

 

Din took to the bath like a karking colo claw fish took to a pond full of minnows. He teased Boba a little about the extravagance of building a bath like this first, of course – apparently, Din’s people didn’t believe in indulgences, but Boba’d learned a bit about Din’s people these last few weeks, and he’d decided that he didn’t particularly care what they thought anyway. 

Life in the desert is hard, Boba thought, surrounded on all sides by warm water. This bath – a pool, really, a little oasis that Boba had carved carefully out of the depths of the palace, once he’d managed to get rid of the scum and sludge that Jabba had left behind – was fed by the palace’s aquifer, the water clear and clean. It was naturally cold, like most of the oases that dotted the Great Dune Sea, but Jabba’d been a creature of expensive tastes and he hadn’t thought twice about installing temperature controls beneath the pool to warm the water to his liking. 

Boba hadn’t liked Jabba much, but as he swam deeper into the pool, warm water lapping at his sides, he couldn’t help but agree with the old worm, just a little. 

Life in the desert is hard, Boba thought. There’s no reason to make it any harder by denying myself a little bit of pleasure. A little bit of comfort. 

Cleaning the artificial oasis up had taken some time. Jabba’d done his best to make it a perfect replica of a weekoona, a Nal Hutta wallow. The smell, after said weekoona had been locked up and left alone in the five or six years between Jabba’s death and Bib Fortuna’s, had nearly knocked Boba back on his shebs, the first time he’d opened the door. 

Now, though, the pool was closer to what Boba could remember of a wahat, a Tusken oasis. Dappled light softened the edges of the room and Ushib had gifted Boba with long mashoo reeds and a few hardy tamur trees, hardy thorntooths and even a long, trailing safi tree. Now the room smelled of clean water and growing plants, damp and earth and safe. 

Boba swam out into the middle of the pool, confident that Din would follow him. When he reached the center, Boba stopped swimming and stood, the water lapping against his chest. The bottom of the pool was textured, so Boba didn’t have to fight to stand. The warmth eased some of his old aches and pains, took pressure off of his sore knee; Din had tackled Boba pretty hard last night, and while it hadn’t hurt at the time, adrenaline and the fierce joy of a good night blocking out something as insignificant as a bruised knee, Boba was too old now to wake up the morning after a spar spry and free of pain. 

Din kept swimming, circling Boba easily. He didn’t struggle in the water, which was a pleasant surprise – Boba hadn’t been sure if Din knew how to swim. Mandalorians in general didn’t have much use for it. Mandalore’s waters had been poisoned for a long time, and swimming in beskar was difficult at best. 

But Din, always a surprise, could swim well enough to circle Boba, his shoulders working smoothly in the water. Boba was content to stay where he was and just watch Din. Watching Din had become something of a hobby. 

Another indulgence, Boba thought wryly. 

Despite the flogging he’d taken last night, Din moved easily. Out of his armor, Din was pale. He’d started to get a bit more color on his face and his neck, now that he went around the palace without his helmet sometimes, but the rest of him was usually hidden from the suns. He never left the tower that housed Boba’s rooms without his beskar’gam. 

Like Boba, Din was mostly made up of scar tissue. None of Din’s scars were as extensive as Boba’s – Din, at least, had not ever had the bad karking luck to end up in a sarlacc’s mouth – but he still had more than a few. Some of them, like the shiny, pink weal of a blaster burn scored across one of Din’s biceps or the white, straight slash of a knife against Din’s ribs, were easy to identify. Others, like a tangled knot of scar tissue underneath Din’s right shoulder or the uneven web of raised skin on the outside of one of Din’s thighs, were harder to guess at. 

For a man who’s always covered in armor, he’s got a lot of ink, Boba thought. Din had all manner of faded tattoos, most of them softened to a bluish color with time. Boba liked tracing them almost as much as he liked tracing Din’s scars. Din didn’t tolerate the contact well outside of a flogging, but after a flogging he leaned into every touch, and seemed to like the repetitive motion of Boba following each branch of the wroshyr tree tattooed around Din’s bicep or the bui’tsad symbols on his back. 

“Where’d you learn how to swim?” Din asked, still cutting gracefully through the water. Ripples lapped at Boba’s belly, his chest, as warm as a hand. “Not here, probably.” 

Boba smiled. Tuskens didn’t swim, even though most of them had at least on oasis on their tuskbal. Even tribes that had rivers moving beneath their sands stayed out of the water. 

“No,” Boba said, weighing his answer in his head. He hadn’t brought Din down here with the intention of talking much. 

It’s Din, though, he thought. Getting Din to talk about anything was a bit like trying to get a krayt dragon to give up its pearl. If he wanted to talk now, Boba could probably put up with a little discomfort. Maybe talking a little would put Din at ease, make him easier to persuade later. Boba’d come down here with a few ideas for how he’d like to spend the rest of the morning, but all of them were indulgent and Mandalorians like Din, as a general rule, treated indulgence like most other beings treated a live concussion grenade.

No, talking to Din here wasn’t going to hurt anything. It might even help deepen the trust between Din and Boba both. 

Despite that, Boba hesitated. He’d learned to swim the same way he had learned most things – from his father. Boba never talked about his father, not if he could help it. Jango Fett occupied a peculiar place in Boba’s memory. Boba’d call it a scar, like the ones decorating Din’s back and sides, the scars on Boba’s hands, the back of his neck, except scars were wounds that had healed, and what had happened to Jango never had. 

It’s not like Djar’ika means any harm, though, thought Boba. Din was looking at him expectantly now, his face open and honest and utterly without malice. He didn’t know what he was doing, prodding at old, raw wounds. Din had trusted Boba with a lot, these last few days. He had followed Boba into the water. Boba could trust him with this. It’d only hurt a little. The wound was old enough. 

“No,” Boba repeated, tucking his thoughts away in favor of watching the long lines of Din’s body. “Not here. I – the planet I grew up on was an ocean world. Kamino. Ever hear of it?” 

Predictably, Din shook his head. He hadn’t slipped all the way under the water yet and Boba kind of wanted to reach out and dunk him, just to see what kind of face Din would make when he surfaced. He held off, for now. 

I can always dunk him if this conversation gets too serious, Boba thought. I brought him down here to have some fun, after all. 

“The entire planet was water,” Boba said, reaching back through his memory for Kamino. His home world – in so much as he had one – was always there for him, easy to reach and touch and recall. Salt air, driving rain, the stark hallways of Tipoca City. A rumble at night that could have been Jango’s voice or a peal of far-off thunder. 

“It – I didn’t learn how to swim in the ocean,” Boba continued. The water had always been too rough. Boba could count the number of calm, clear, sunny days he’d seen on Kamino on one hand. 

Din didn’t interrupt. As always, his rapt attention – the way that Din looked at Boba, wholly focused, like Boba was a star that Din orbited – made it easier to talk to him than it should have been. 

“There were too many storms,” Boba said. If he closed his eyes, he could still see them. Thick, heavy clouds and gashes of lightning. Rain drumming down on the walls like soldiers marching. “But my dad thought that I should learn, so I did. There were – training facilities there. Kamino trained soldiers. They could conjure up just about any environment that you could imagine. Dad taught me how to swim in a pool like this one.” 

Boba gestured at the room around them. The mashoo reeds rustled, stirred by a current of air moving from one room to another. He could remember one of his father’s big hands pressed against Boba’s chest, then small and thin and unscarred. Jango’s voice as he held Boba’s head out of the water. 

“He’d turn the bubbler on when I got bigger, so I could practice swimming against resistance.” 

Swimming lessons in beskar’gam probably would’ve followed, if Jango had lived. He’d wanted to prepare Boba for anything. Being able to swim when most other beings had expected Boba to sink like a karking stone had been pretty useful, over the years. Jango’d been oddly prescient like that. He had known that the galaxy was not kind and had tried to anticipate anything and everything that Boba might have come up against. 

Except for the sarlacc, Boba thought, pulling away from the wound in his heart that was his father. Nobody could prepare for the sarlacc. 

“Oh,” Din said, floating now instead of actively swimming, bobbing just out of reach. The bruises from the flogger curled around his shoulders, his hips. Boba wanted to touch them. “I think I learned how to swim on my home planet too. I remember… hands. My father’s hands, I think.” 

A pang went through Boba’s ribs at that. Din’s voice was soft. He spent too much time underneath his helmet to hide what he was thinking or feeling, and Boba could track his memories as they flashed across his face. 

His home world? Boba wondered, curious. He’d never asked Din where he’d come from. Boba had assumed that it had been Mandalore, or one of Mandalore’s outpost worlds. Concordia, maybe, or Kalevala, since Din had known Bo-Katan Kryze. 

An odd sense of kinship, of likeness, itched underneath Boba’s skin. He wasn’t sure he cared much for the feeling. Boba was used to being – singular. Genetically he was one of millions, but no one was like Boba. Fennec was like enough that she and Boba understood each other without words, but Din – 

He’s Mandalorian, Boba reminded himself, sternly. I’m not. We’re not – we might share some things in our pasts, but we’re not the same. Boba needed to remember that. He needed to remember that Din was his own man, that what he wanted and needed wasn’t the same thing that Boba wanted and needed. 

We can help each other, but I need to remember that this – the closeness deepening between Boba and Din with every passing week, the affection that grew and grew in Boba’s chest, the way he’d felt looking at Din last night, after Din’d slammed his forehead into Boba’s chin, their blood mingling together – is an arrangement, for Din. He’s here to get what he needs. He’s not here to – to –

“Our village would flood during the rainy season,” Din continued, still swimming. Boba wrenched his thoughts away. Thinking about what Boba couldn’t have was likely to open another wound in his chest, and Boba had enough of those already. “When the rains passed, we’d swim out to the fields and look for anything that the rains had left behind.” 

So he’s not from Concordia, then, Boba thought. That moon had been almost as barren as Mandalore. “Where are you from?” he asked, curiously. 

Din shrugged. “I don’t remember,” he said, and Boba could see the honesty in his face. Din had just about as much guile as a baby tooka, which was to say that he had no guile in him at all. It was – refreshing. Charming, though Boba was still doing his best to avoid thinking about Din that way. Din wasn’t trying to be charming. He was just trying to be himself. 

Don’t take more than you’re being offered, shabuir, Boba reminded himself. He had a responsibility to Din. Din was trusting him to uphold it. Had trusted Boba, with his vulnerability. With his pain. 

“Somewhere in the Outer Rim, I think,” Din said. He shook his head a little and gestured at the water. “The older warriors kept teaching us kids how to swim whenever we lived somewhere that had enough water.” 

Boba could understand that. Not every aliit had been welcome on Mandalore in its waning days, in the days of Satine Kryze, and fewer still had been welcome after Gar Saxon had sold the planet out to the Empire. Many clans had been forced into hiding. 

Twenty years ago, when Boba’d been younger – angrier – he’d been almost pleased, about that. He’d never had anywhere safe to lay low for longer than a month or two, not after he’d left Kamino for good, not after Geonosis. 

Why should any of the cowards who abandoned my dad get to be safe? he’d thought at the time. 

Now, though, Boba looked at Din – at a Mandalorian – and wished that Din hadn’t been forced to leave his homeworld, wherever it had been. No kid deserved to grow up the way Boba and Din had grown up, always on the run. 

Kark, Boba thought. Maybe I did go soft, in the sarlacc’s belly. Maybe the acid had eaten away more than Boba’s hair, than the skin across his shoulders, the backs of his hands. 

“You live in a lot of places?” Boba asked, curious despite his better judgment to learn just how similar a childhood he and Din had had. Din had a lot of the skills that young drifters tended to pick up. He spoke several languages. He flew ships with ease. He ate quickly and always cleaned his plate. He was skittish, sometimes, and when Boba flogged Din out of his own head Din was skin-hungry and shy, uncertain, like he half-expected to be shoved away instead of pulled close. 

“Yeah,” Din said, easily enough. He wasn’t shy or uncertain now, was comfortable in Boba’s presence, and Boba counted that as a victory. “Did you?” 

He’d swum farther away than Boba wanted him to be. Boba pushed off of his feet and followed, parting the water easily. Din, sometimes just as playful as he was shy, didn’t move away. 

“Yes,” Boba said honestly, after thinking about it for a moment. He’d lived across half of the karking galaxy, really; after Geonosis, the longest Boba had stayed in any one place had been the year or so he’d spent in prison. 

“And no,” he added. “Mostly I lived on the ship, once I got it back.” 

Hyperspace had been safer for Boba than Tatooine or Nar Shaddaa or Corellia. When he hadn’t been able to pass days in a hyperlane, sailing from one side of the galaxy to the other, Boba’d spent weeks anchored in asteroid belts, leaving only to earn enough credits for the next meal, for the next canister of hyperfuel. 

Din bobbed a little closer, his expression thoughtful. He looked better, these days. When he’d first come back to Tatooine, Din – Djarin, then, an ally but nothing more – had been worn and haunted, his face thin and pale and creased with pain. 

A few months of Ushib’s cooking had filled Din back out, and he was at least sleeping some. He’d slept in Boba’s bed last night, his body warm and familiar. Boba himself was a light sleeper, but he hadn’t felt Din so much as twitch last night. 

Din had even cut his hair at some point, the ends of it now damp and clinging to his neck. These days he looked less like a stray akk dog and more like a treasured massif, sleek and powerful and always ready for a hunt. 

Looking at Din made affection bloom behind Boba’s ribcage. Affection was dangerous. Was too close to what Boba had felt for Din last night, looking at him across the makeshift sparring ring, too close to something that Boba didn’t have a name for, didn’t know what to do with, didn’t know how to use. 

But Boba couldn’t quite manage to make himself crush that feeling of affection. Pulling away now, he thought, would hurt Din. Boba didn’t want to hurt him. 

Din, catching Boba looking at him, blushed a little, color creeping down his neck, across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Boba had traced that blush with his tongue last night. He wanted to chase it again. 

“What?” Din asked, dipping his chin deeper into the water. 

Boba smiled. “Nothing,” he said. As much fun as it would be be to reel Din in, to call him Djar’ika, to kiss him, Boba had come down here with an idea of how he wanted to spend his morning, and it was probably safer than letting himself entertain ideas of – of intimacy, maybe, with Din Djarin. 

Affection was one thing. So was fondness. But anything deeper than that – 

Anything more, Boba thought, is outside of what we agreed. 

So Boba said, “Nothing,” and flicked a bit of water at Din to reassure him. The urge to dunk Din all the way in the water rose again. “I’m just thinking,” he said. The tips of Din’s ears, still above water, stayed stubbornly red. 

Din had been willing to try just about everything that Boba had suggested, so far. Boba’d brought a few things down from his rooms. He’d had an idea last night, after the flogging, as he’d been soothing Din, carding his fingers through Din’s hair. As Din’s beard had scraped roughly against Boba’s face. 

He’s been willing to try everything, even a flogger, Boba reasoned. He’d probably be willing to indulge me in this, too. 

“I’ve got something I’d like to try, if you’re interested,” Boba said. He kept his tone light, trying not to spook Din while the other man was naked and slippery. This pool was a big one – if Din decided to be hard to catch, Boba would be after him for a while. 

Din didn’t bolt, but he did narrow his eyes. “What is it?” he asked. 

Boba grinned. He’d never guess. “Trust me,” he said. “You’ll enjoy it, I think.” So far Din had only enjoyed a bit of pampering – a bit of care – after Boba had literally beaten him into submission, but Boba held out hope that Din’s indulgence would extend even this far. 

“You just need to wait here for a minute,” Boba added. He’d brought a shaving kit down with him, just in case. It wasn’t that Boba thought that Din needed a shave. That Boba had minded the rough texture of Din’s beard. 

It is, Boba thought to himself, honestly, that I think he’d get off on being underneath a knife, if I was the one holding it, and I want to see if he trusts me that far. If he’ll surrender that far. 

Din had been vulnerable to Boba before. He’d let Boba wrap a hand around his throat. He’d let Boba bring a flogger down across his back. Had let Boba kiss him, and touch him, and fuck him, and sleep beside him. But letting Boba hold a razor to his throat – 

Boba’s heart sped up just thinking about it. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what Din looked like. He wanted to know what Din would let him do. 

Din’s expression was wary, but Boba knew him well enough now to catch the glint of desire – of curiosity, which was just as dangerous as desire – in his eyes. Din lifted his chin out of the water, throat flexing, and said, “What is it?” 

“Just trust me,” Boba said, still smiling. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, and honestly he did like it when Din got a bit nervous beforehand. Those nerves made Din’s surrender, when it came, even sweeter. “You’ll enjoy it,” Boba said again, because Din would. So far Din had loved letting Boba have his way; he’d melted into it every time. “You just need to wait here for a minute.” 

Din scowled a little, annoyed that Boba hadn’t answered his question, but even here he was willing to trust Boba. A thrill of pleasure, heady and dark and as smooth as papuur’gal, licked against the bottom of Boba’s ribs. 

“Fine,” Din said, his curiosity winning against his caution. “I’ll just… float here, then.” 

Positive reinforcement had so far been the trick with Din, disarming him just as effectively as a blaster bolt to the wrist, so Boba said, “Ori’jate,” and told Din to stay put in the middle of the pool while Boba himself swam back to the edge of it. 

The water was still warm. In quieter times, Boba’d like to come down here and just float for a while, his eyes fixed on the pricks of light high above the pool. Maybe after they dealt with the Hutts he could come down here and float. It would be nice to relax. 

He didn’t want to leave Din alone for too long. Boba rarely was apart from Din these days, just like he was rarely apart from Fennec, and if he was being honest with himself, Boba didn’t mind. It was good to have people that he could trust – that trusted him – close at hand. 

He stepped out of the water when he reached the edge of the pool and quickly prepared what he would need. Boba – like Jango – was traditional. He didn’t use Kashyyyki clippers or depil cream to cut his hair or trim his beard and never had. He’d used a straight razor since he’d become a man and still used one, even though now, after his stay in a sarlacc’s belly, Boba didn’t have any hair on his head and could only grow his beard in patches. 

Getting ready took only a minute, maybe too, and then Boba was back in the water. Anticipation made it easy to set some of Boba’s thoughts, some of his doubts, his wariness about letting Din get too close, about getting to close to him in return, aside.  

Boba swam back to Din, who was now floating on his back in the warm water, moving just enough to stay afloat. His belly and chest didn’t have as many bruises as his back did. Near his hips he still carried faint, crescent nail-marks, where Boba had taken him by the hips. A bruise spanned part of Din’s side where Boba’d crashed into him while they had wrestled. But that was it. 

Boba wanted to leave Din with a few more bruises. Wanted to run his tongue over a silvery scar at the bottom of Din’s ribcage, to press a kiss to the pulse Boba could see jumping in Din’s throat, wanted more. 

I’ll start small, he thought, almost near enough again to touch Din. 

Din, sensing that Boba was near again, righted himself, turning to face Boba. His expression was open and relaxed, trusting; some of the stress Din had carried with him over the last few weeks – kark, last night, when he’d returned from Mos Entha without finding his kin – had been worn away. 

Desire cooled in Boba’s belly. There was no reason to rush anything. Din didn’t need to be devoured right here, right now; Boba could take his time. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Boba asked, crowding into Din’s space. Din righted himself, standing up again, water sloshing between their bodies, but didn’t pull away. 

“It is nice,” Din admitted. He blinked at Boba, his expression still open. If they’d been up in Boba’s rooms, Boba might have called him cyar’yc. Sweet. At their closeness Din’s expression faltered, some of that shyness or that wariness kicking in, but Boba didn’t want Din to pull away and reached out to stop him. He took Din by the chin, loose enough that Din could pull away, if he wanted to, but tight enough that Boba could feel Din’s pulse leap against his thumb. 

He kept that thumb against the corner of Din’s jaw, his palm against Din’s chin, and tucked his fingers against Din’s throat. Din’s beard tickled Boba’s skin. Like Boba, Din had bare patches here and there, skin smooth where no hair had grown, but unlike Boba, Din’s face was mostly free of scars. The only one he had was that line between his eyes, only really visible up close. 

Din had split his face open against another Mandalorian’s helmet, he’d said. A mirshmure’cya. A brain-kiss. 

Warmth lit up Boba’s belly. He told himself that it was just the water. 

“What are you doing?” Din asked, though he didn’t fight Boba’s hand. 

Boba smiled at him. “I’m thinking,” he said. He tilted Din’s face to the side, still gentle enough, and Din let him. Din’s wet curls clung to his cheeks, to the nape of his neck, to his forehead, and his skin was warm and damp. 

“About?” Din asked. Boba felt his pulse pick up, hammering harder against Boba’s thumb. 

Din and Boba had promised each other honesty, when they were together like this. Boba knew that they’d blurred some of the lines between them, had started to spend perhaps too much time in each other’s company, had started to fail to keep their arrangement separate from their feelings, from their lives, from their business together, but here in this warm pool, fed by fresh water, decorated with rare plants, a testament to Jabba’s indulgences and to Boba’s too, since he’d restored the karking thing, Boba couldn’t bring himself to care much about how bad of an idea this all could turn out to be. How close he’d let Din get. The knife that Boba had put in Din’s hands and aimed at Boba’s belly. 

Life, he thought, in the desert is hard. There’s no reason to make it any harder by denying myself a little bit of pleasure. 

Boba told Din the truth. “I think,” he said, looking Din in the eye, “that I want to kiss you.”

#ast asks #ast 'verse pov tag #boba: i'm normal i'm normal i'm normal all of this is normal

[strywoven]

y’all already know what time it is , popping in with my quarterly check-in.  just the general , thank you for remaining patient with me through the term and a reminder that the queue will assuredly run out soon but i won’t have the energy to do much for it until break starts a few weeks from now.  i’m always skulking about , however , willing to do things over discord or IMs.  anyways , the tea under the cut , for those interested !

well , as you might expect , we’re in rush-hour rn with the final few weeks slamming into everyone full-force.  not much is happening save for me continuing to excessively min-max my time to ensure i get the best grades possible ( please stop me , this is a problem ) . also two of my finals are a presentation and , as we all know , i might have done theatre but i cannot public speak ; pray for me.

i inevitably turned down the symposium despite the board members being like , “you should do it ! you have good research !” nah. you want my stupid ass to talk to the whole campus ? not gonna happen. sorry , maybe come talk to me when i’m , i dunno , another few years more self-assured.

the induction ceremony into the honor’s society is the 18th ! POG ! every time i talk about it , though , i inadvertently keep referring to it as an “inauguration” so now certain people i’ve mentioned it to refer to me as , “mr. president” as a running gag i shall never live down.  don’t you ever let my big-dick 4.0 and verbose mannerisms fool you , i can’t even speak my own language half the time LMAO.

it came to my attention recently that the remaining cornerstone classes for my degree are evening classes. and , just to save everyone a long and miserable story , the TLDR is i don’t drive for traumatic reasons ( and hailing an Uber several times a day back-and-forth is unsustainable when i pay part of my tuition already ) . so i had to sit down to counsel with my advisors and upcoming professors to sort out a game-plan. one of the professors , i shit you not , broke out the , “well , as a psychiatrist --” and she proceeded to grand-stand to me about her accolades , “-- have you considered therapy ?” like , no , what a novel idea-- obviously i have. i literally almost bailed right in that moment ; how fkn rude can you be ? what’s better is that i’ll be seeing her several times next term so … what a good introduction , huh ?

and just a remark about my moral theology course ( again ) . i do not see myself as a “know-it-all” … but i noticed over the term that i am one of the few who contributes consistently to the discussion at all. every time the professor asks a question , I MEAN OBVIOUSLY i have something to say ( like just recently he asked about dostoevsky , whom i was excited to discuss ) . and i swear to god , i cannot tell if this man is smiling when i talk because he’s amused or annoyed -- perhaps both. 

#❧ ⸺ update | ooc ❞ #❧ ⸺ you’ve gone maverick‚ maverick ! | ooc ❞ #sadge for the queue tbh #it was nice while it lasted #but still you're all more than welcome to chatter at me in DMs any time! #i promise i'll try to post a few lore things or inbox calls once it's run out tho

[elis-corner]

Okay El, requests are up and running again.

Doc, with Dragon sickness (yes, lotr incoming because I know you love it), who is not happy because he feels threatened in his perimeter, other hermits wanting to take his diamonds and other precious materials.

But Doc adores the reader, trusts them wholly (like Thorin and Bilbo almost, only with romance) and doesn't see the readers betrayal coming

Angst ensues.

:D

I started writing the moment I saw this (totally didn't forget to queue, who would think that?). Nix, you know me all too well! Can I just say how sweet it is that whenever I open my inbox formally again, you’re always first there? It’s so kind of you ♥️

I also can't help but feel like this goes so well with the fact that Doc has been running out of diamonds lately XD

This took a bit of a darker turn then I had planned, so it might be a bit triggering in some ways? POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: Violence, angst, addiction/obsession (if you want to count dragon sickness as that).

Anyway, lots of love, and enjoy!

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He was shrouded in darkness.

Doc leant back against the pile of shulkers behind him, each of them so filled to the brim that even with all his weight against them, they did not move an inch. It was a rare occurrence–that it was night on the Hermitcraft server. What were they trying to hide? What were they trying to take? Doc pressed his flask against his lips, downing another night vision potion. His world grew bright again.

No one would make it in under his watch. No one except you.

In a server full of people, you never know who might turn around and stab you in the back, who will take what is yours, who will shatter your pride mercilessly. Or, in some cases, will break into your stock exchange and destroy your bush. But at least among all the chaos, Doc had you.

Y/n. His Y/n. You were the person he could turn to, the person he could trust.

He tossed a diamond up into the air. It seemed to hang there for an eternity before falling back down, landing in his hand silently. Its crystalline surface was enchanting, distorting his face as he stared longingly at it. How had he only a few months prior agreed to letting people take them from him as they willed? How had he been so foolish as to build them up as a pillar for the server to see? Why was he using them as scaffolding in all his redstone, when anyone could come take or break his two greatest treasures?

But you were a beacon of light and justice for him. He knew he could trust in you to never take anything. He knew you would fight by his side if someone harmed him. He’d do anything to keep you safe from harm.

_. The sound of a pickaxe breaking through tuff met Doc’s ears; a distant sound, but all the days he’d spent gazing down at his creation or silently scheming his plans, had resulted in his hearing becoming better tuned, enough to almost match that of Ren’s.

Doc grabbed his sword, and leaping off his platform he soared against the wind in the direction of the sound. A small figure, with their wings tucked tightly behind them. They tore another chunk of the stone from the patch, dropping it quickly into their shulker. Grian. Doc raised his sword above his shoulder, his line of sight ensnared on the avian he was rapidly approaching. He spied the familiar glint of diamonds in Grian’s shulker box, despite the entirety of the Perimeter being coated in a layer of shadow.

‘You’ve done it now, bird boy.’

Doc swung his sword, blade ringing as it struck against Grian’s side. The avian let out a cry, stumbling to turn and try to locate his foe. He fumbled, trying to find his weapon–bow, sword, axe… anything–, while his non-dominant hand wrapped around his body to try and prevent more open bleeding.

‘Doc, what are you doing?’ he yelled at the looming figure sprinting towards him, weapon in tow. ‘I was just getting some tuff for my ba–.’

‘Don’t play games with me,’ Doc growled, adjusting the height of his sword to match the level of Grian’s neck. Their blades met with a resounding crash. ‘I know you’re trying to take my diamonds.’

‘Diamonds? I- Doc, you took them all when you first dug the place out! There’s nothing for me to take!’

‘I know you’re taking from me! Don’t lie!’ Doc swung his sword in the opposite direction, coming full circle to rest right on Grian’s shoulder, rubbing dangerously against his neck. ‘I swear that if I ever see you in my Perimeter again you can kiss the light of day goodbye.’

Doc heard the sound of elytra cutting through the wind, speeding towards him. He would have spun around, but the way the rockets were being fired, the way the person’s angle was adjusting, he could tell exactly who it was. He knew it was you.’

‘Stop!’ you yelled, coming to a halt a few metres behind Doc. ‘I heard yelling–what is going on here?’ Your eyes darted back and forth between Grian and Doc, the open shulker and the pickaxe lying abandoned by Grian’s feet. ‘Doc, leave him. Let him go.’

Your words cut into him like a knife. Could you not see that this was not your fight? Could you not see that Doc was only acting justly? Reclaiming what was rightfully his?

‘Are you not on my side? He’s a thief, Y/n. Let him pay back what he has stolen from me. Let him pay with blood.’

Your grip on your sword tightened. ‘You’ve gone mad, Doc. Mad!’ You charged towards him, albeit hesitantly. Doc thrust Grian back, and the avian did not hesitate to fly a good distance away to spectate. Doc turned and stared into your eyes, not bothering to block your strike; from his chest, darkness began to seep. He raised his blade once more.

You were worth so much to him, but who said that meant he couldn’t love diamonds more?

‘I have been blind,’ he snarled, ‘but now I begin to see.’ His voice dropped an octave, if that was somehow possible, but even acknowledging that his voice was not the same. It rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest, and seemed filled with darkness and anger. It wasn’t the voice of Doc, your friend, your love, but that of a stranger. He used the corner of his coat to swipe away a portion of the blood, leaving the wound exposed. You would never be able to say you did not regret it. ‘I see that true friends are harder to come by than I foolishly thought.’ He raised his weapon, aiming its tip at your chest. He glared at you from under his eyes, though now they seemed almost nonexistent; instead, they were dark voids that felt like they would never leave you, sullen like his other angular features; his robotic eye was hypnotising–the only proper light source to be seen. ‘You’re just like the rest of them. I will not part with a single coin. Not one piece of it.’

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The sounds of his dragon’s wings flapping as it circled around the flagpole was the last thing you heard before his sword plunged into your chest.

Unlike you, he would not live to regret it.

#nix melleth nin #my writing #docm77 x reader #doc x reader #hc x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #angst #tw angst #angst tw #violence tw #tw violence #i feel like this is the longest request i've ever written? this isn't a whole lot but usually i post short things #requests

[songofthesibyl]

Wildly and Deeply and All At Once

A Tamlin POV of a section of chapter 19 of A Court of Thorns and Roses.

Unusual. Queue. Slaying. Conflagration.

Soft. Soft and swaying— No. Slaying.

Slaying my heart.

Oh. Oh, no. She would never see them. No one would ever see this. Was he going to actually attempt love poetry? What had this human done to him?

What was she doing to him.

He laid down his pen on the desk, and put his palm to his forehead. Then looked to the door of his study with a pang of anxiety. He had spelled it so no one could come in—Lucien would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what he was doing, or attempting to do. But even though he was out on patrol now, Tamlin dreaded being interrupted anyway. And it wasn’t that he thought Lucien could, or would, really hurt him in any way—he would never hurt him. It was some long ago shadow that could bypass his wards, his magic, even before the curse. Some lumbering figure barging in and telling him to stop being foolish, stop dreaming, stop being an embarrassment. He had not thought on it in years. But she had brought it all up. He saw the pain, the guilt at having something that was hers, and hers alone, of no use, of no importance, to anyone else. And no one was here, no one would barge in to tell her that her desires, that her dreams, were stupid. Never again. And yet, it would not go away. Not for over five hundred years. 

He sighed, sitting up, straightening himself at the words floating in his mind, despite everything, and wrote them down. 

A conflagration of the heart.

Better.

Yes, that was it.

This little reprieve he had been given, at such a great cost. So much it had awakened in him. Not since the early days with Lucien had he been so full, had he lost himself so completely, so wonderfully. Even with the end so close. He could not afford to forget what lay ahead, but there were weeks, weeks yet, and they were all expecting him to fall, but they had not been expecting her. Not three of three thousand women he could have imagined would have been like her. 

He closed his eyes, dropping his pen again, still tasting her on his lips, feeling her heart race for both of them, and how his own had struggled, wildly, inside of its prison, calling to her in the brief touches he had allowed himself. The first to heal, and then—

Unusual, the feeling of a heart beating for the first time, when it was immobilized, when it had been free to do so for centuries. And yet now, only now, with the curse upon him, impossible, did he feel it start to work, for the blood to flow, for it to reach him, for him to reach out and connect, a thread from him to her, more sacred and more pure than any Mother-appointed bond. A feather’s touch, not the frenzy of the Rite that he dreaded now, but gentle. He had not felt this way for a very long time. He had been asleep for a very long time. Shut himself up a very long time. He had not expected this. 

Unusual, this year’s fires. Burning not on the land. But burning stone. 

He sighed, putting the pen down again, and leaned back in his chair. This was no good. Perhaps she could figure it out from a poem. What was really going on. But it was so heavy, the word so heavy, as his heart in his chest, that he could not tell her of.

He leaned forward again, looking at the other words, skipping over queue and going back to slaying. He took his pen in hand again, stared hard at the word, and tried thinking of something that was not trite, that would not send her running to the border with its cheap sentimentality. Another word too heavy, too violent, and she had had enough of that. He closed his eyes at how he must have looked to her after killing the Bogge, at the meaning of severed wings that he was too afraid, too ashamed to tell. A reminder from Amarantha of what he really was. And who Feyre had revealed herself to be that night as well. When she had let go, and let her instincts take over. When he had felt the first stirrings of life in him. But the violence at the edges of it.

A queue of sentries lining up to die.

Heavy marks on the paper. No attempt at lightness, or levity. The heavy hands of a beast, who could not hold a pen, who could not gently caress, who could only tear at flesh, wound, kill.

A pair of wings taking to the sky one last time, in a conflagration.  An unusual eye, staring through wards, though glamours, seeing all, knowing all. Slaying brothers, and giving him shelter, and sending him to the slaughter.

He threw the pen against the wall, and tore up the papers he had written on with his claws, and threw the pieces into the fireplace for good measure.

A conflagration of words. A slaying of paper.  A queue of first lines. An unusual form of kindling. 

Despite himself, he found he was laughing. Exhausted, insane perhaps, on his own like this. A ridiculous way for a High Lord to spend his time in the midst of a curse, and the doom that rang louder every hour. Yet it was so quiet here, only the sound of a fire, turning his piss-poor attempt at poetry to ash, more vile to encounter than any ash arrow.

It was ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous. And insane. He was thinking too much on it. He heard Lucien’s voice in his ear, but he could not woo, could not court, he never had been able to. This was not what was needed, this was not what she needed, it would not do.

He stared into the fire, and was at the border, a long, dull night ahead, surrounded by his fellow soldiers, and he heard the laughter roaring over the flames they surrounded, heads tipping back with it.

He saw Feyre sinking down, retreating, back to the cold, and the winter. 

She needed the Spring. She needed lightness. She needed laughter. She needed to laugh. 

He had been good at it once, long, long ago. Another lifetime, another self. Before he had a beast form. How absurd he would seem. Not the shining High Fae, who would charm, who would woo, who would lie with words. No, much different than this. Someone her age, and no one. Just one solider among a band. Passing the time in the long night.

He smiled, remembering it. And got up, and picked up his pen, and sat back down, and it did not take long for it to all come back to him. 

There once was… What sounds. Unusual. -Al. Queue. -Ew. The form, the words became clear to him, like a song not played for years, but always held in one’s heart. Locked inside, waiting to be let out. It was easy, when it was for another. Always easy for the bow to be drawn across the strings. 

He finished five poems, in quick succession, and could hardly sleep for the excitement, and the nervousness of sharing them with her.

Ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

What was she doing to him. 

Lucien could see. How he kept staring at him the next day at breakfast, saying nothing, but smiling to himself.

And how lightly Tamlin stepped after her, making sure the poems were secure, making sure no one would see, and the faint sound of what might have been his heart beating wildly, he imagined, if it were free.

And how sweet the air, and how bright the colors, the intensity of carmine red, saffron yellow,  malachite green, ultramarine blue. As if the true nature of the world had been glamoured from him, and, piece by piece, he was uncovering it, slowly, but steadily. And he would not reveal it all now, but this little piece to her, five pieces of paper that crinkled against his chest, and he could feel with each step, himself becoming lighter, and lighter still, until he was no longer stepping on the earth at all. 

He cried out at the shock of the earth no longer under him, but the sky, his world turned upside down. And he saw her, stalking toward him, a hunter to her prey, himself caught, laid bare to her. She said nothing, but looked up at him, smiling wickedly, with crossed arms. 

He could not help but smile back at her attempt to appear cool. “Cruel human.”

“That’s what you get for stalking someone.”

He chuckled at her, making no effort to move, enjoying the world this way, surrendering himself to it, to her, gladly. Waiting to see what she would do with her quarry.

She moved closer to him, tentatively, as if worried he would strike at her, her prey subdued, but still able to bite. She stopped where she was close enough to touch, her head close to his, and reached out, only daring to let one finger make contact with his hair cascading below him. But it reached a thread into him, and he heard her pounding heart thundering into him. He leaned almost imperceptibly towards it, towards her, and she responded, every finger caressing, but gently, and he would stay in this upside down world gladly, the crown under him, blood finally flowing, contented as a cat purring in the sun.

But only a little at a time. Not yet, not yet. She demurred, and stepped back, and he righted himself, letting her see his beast-self further, pawing at the vine that held him, landing on the earth gracefully, as a cat. But still looking down at sky, up at earth. She was changing everything, everything. And the brightness on her face. If she would let go. Let him be absurd, and upside down, and cat, and ridiculous, for her. 

“Feeling better today?”

“Hmm.”

An answer he would give. “Good. But just in case, I wanted to give you this.”

He watched her, eager, anticipating, and nervous, and took out the five pieces of paper from under his tunic and handed them to her. She had been teaching herself to read, too proud to accept his help. He understood. But hoped, and waited, for her to recognize. But she got a frustrated look on her face, and he could not help himself.

“Before you bolt or start yelling…”

He dared to move behind her, feeling her warmth against him as he leaned over her shoulder to look at the top poem.

Nothing for it, now. He cleared his throat, and read. 

“There once was a lady most beautiful Spirited, if a little unusual Her friends were few But how the men did queue But to all she gave a refusal.”

Whatever she had been expecting, it was not this. She turned to look at him, her brows raised high, and blinked. As if she had been caught, dangling from her foot in the Spring wood. He could not wait, but snatched the poems back from her, glancing upwards with delight at her increasingly red face as he read the next two. It still hadn’t hit her, though. He paused a beat, then read the fourth, and handed the papers back. 

“Final word in the second and fourth line in each poem,” he said, gesturing towards the lines with his chin. And waited, unable to keep the amusement from his face. And finally saw the recognition in hers.

“These are—“

“Your list of words was too good to pass up. And not good for love poems at all.”

No. No, not at all. This was better, so much better. The look on her face, her raised eyebrows again, urging him to continue.

“We had contests to see who could write the dirtiest limericks while I was living with my father’s war-band by the border. I don’t particularly enjoy losing, so I took it upon myself to become good at them.”

He waited. Would she think this awkward, insulting, beastly? Would she groan, roll her eyes at his efforts? Maybe she would just shoot him with one of her arrows and be done with it. But she only stood there, staring at him with an amused smile, her eyes sparkling, waiting, letting him take the papers to finish reading. He had saved the best for last, and had hardly finished when he heard the sound of her laughter. He lifted his gaze to look at her and oh, the joy in her, the lightness, it entered him, it reverberated throughout his body, a divine resonance that threatened to shatter his stone heart.

@tamlinweek2023 Day Seven: Free Day

#tamlinweek2023 #tamlin #acotar #feylin

[riftdancing]

T h a n k y o u ! !

My queue right now is astronomically high compared to what it has been since my return to this community. It is full of reblogs in which I have left my love and adoration for all the beautiful work this community creates and I want to start making it a habit again.

It is my personal belief that reblogs are how this community thrives. Its how people get introduced to one another and how your work finds new people and I want to be one of those blogs out there who are constantly reblogging to uplift my fellow creators again. I want to break the habit of silently reblogging and start forging bonds with people again. I want to get to know you guys and interact more (send more asks and tag in more memes) and this is my first foot forward in doing just that!!

@shroudkeeper and @airis-ray both tagged me in this post and I just wanted to extend the most heart warming thank you to you both. Seeing people recommend my work gives me the biggest confidence boost in a community where my past has left me sorely lacking confidence. You both have inspired this trend for me and it just goes to show how far a little kindness can go.

I also want to give the biggest shout out in the world to @thefreelanceangel who is literally a huge part of why I'm still here and why I returned at all. All of your reblogs, heart warming tags, and encouragement is initially what drew me back in to writing and creating here instead of continuing to privately with write and interact with @gatheredfates and other friends. You make my skills as a writer and screenshot photographer feel incredibly valued and you inspire me to keep on creating. Thank you so much for that, because I honestly believe that without you (and Sea) I would not be present here.

And last, but certainly not least, the loudest shout out to my hype lady and the platonic love of my life, @gatheredfates who literally keeps me and my creativity going every day. Listen, her tags might be a little unhinged, but no one encourages me like she does. Her Ask/Question drive (you should check it out) is also hella inspiring and I love how much you do for this community both publicly and behind the scenes. This woman is an absolute angel and probably the best person I know. I love you dearly! Did I mention she is an INCREDIBLE writer and she comes up with some of the most creative and in depth characters? I adore reading her work and if you're reading this, you should definitely go read it.

In the end though, thank you for the little energy boost. I'm gonna keep on keeping on, but then I'm gonna keep on even harder by trying to engage more with you folks! Aw heck, now you're stuck with me. >:)

PS: Feel free to recommend more blogs!! The post I mentioned before introduced to me to so many new blogs and I have followed so many new people recently where as I have struggled to find others on my own in the past. Its been really refreshing! ♥

Anyway...

#peptalks w/ pepper

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Mall Santa

Day Four of WangXian Christmas Stories!

If you asked Wei Ying, this whole “take pictures with the mall Santa” thing was quite the weird tradition. In what other circumstance would one allow their child to sit on a costumed stranger’s lap, take pictures and ask for gifts? None! So how did it become okay to do it if the stranger was dressed as Santa? 

Regardless, A-Yuan seemed beyond excited at the prospect of there being a mall Santa in their city and no matter what Wei Ying told him, he wouldn’t give up on the idea of meeting him, even if the queue was long and they could have done a million other things in the meantime. A-Yuan could be impossibly stubborn when he wanted something, a trait Wei Ying didn’t know whether he picked up from himself or from Auntie Wen Qing. Probably both. 

So, Wei Ying had to interrupt their Christmas shopping for friends and relatives to meet this mall Santa, only comforted by A-Yuan’s excitement and the knowledge that it would be over soon. Sure, the boy was adorable, and Wei Ying loved seeing him happy and full of holiday cheer, but Wei Ying was getting a bit skittish waiting in line and if another lady cut in front of them again, he was quite sure he would eviscerate her, goodness be damned. 

Eventually though, their turn came, and A-Yuan all but jumped in Santa’s arms.

“Hello, little one! What would you like Santa to bring you this year? Have you been good?”

“Yes, yes, very good! You can ask baba!”

Wei Ying laughed a bit and nodded in agreement, sharing a bit of a conspiring look with Santa. 

“Well, then, would you like some new toys?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I want the most.”

“Oh? Then what else do you wish, little one?”

“I want Baba and Rich-gege to get married, of course!”

Wei Ying turned redder than Santa’s clothes. A-Yuan continued. “They’ve been going out for like a hundred years and I know they love each other so they need to get married already! I want a second daddy! And a little brother to play with, because Jingyi can’t always come over and I get so bored!”

Santa laughed heartily as Wei Ying attempted to cover his face with a hand, the other carrying a dozen shopping bags. He was really going to die of embarrassment in the middle of the mall, wasn’t he? 

“Anyways, you’re supposed to be able to work miracles, right? That’s what Baba needs, so please, please, please, do it! I promise I’ll be even better this year, and I won’t steal A-Ling’s sweets at recess when he doesn’t look ever again!”

Wei Ying didn’t know whether to laugh or attempt to hide behind the giant mall Christmas tree. No wonder Jin Guangyao was always giving him the side eye... so much for A-Yuan having been a perfect kid. 

“Santa’s going to try his best. But other than that, is there anything else you wish for?”

A-Yuan lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “Well, didn’t you read the letter I sent you? You can get me the remote control train set I wrote about in there!”

Santa smiled brightly. “Of course, of course, I remember now! I’ll do my best to make your wishes come true this year! Merry Christmas, little one!”

“Okay, thank you! Merry Christmas!”

And A-Yuan jumped off the man’s lap and ran towards Wei Ying, as if nothing even happened and he didn’t just air their business for half the queue to hear. 

--

“A-Yuan... Santa can’t grant wishes like that one you asked him...” Wei Ying began as they picked up their McDonald’s order in the food court. A-Yuan took his Happy Meal and sat at a table as Wei Ying drank from a tall cup of too hot coffee, seated in front of him 

“Santa can grant any wish! And besides, it’s not that big of a deal.” and the boy sipped from his juice emphatically,  “Rich-gege showed me the ring he’s going to give you anyways, I just want it to happen already!”

Wei Ying almost choked on his drink. 

A-Yuan bit into his chicken nugget piece like nothing at all happened. 

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts