#they look like they’re about to do a stage show or steal something

[simplydm]

Pearl, Karn, AND cat content rn on the pearlescentmoon twitch stream!!!

#they’re so cute #also #they look like they’re about to do a stage show or steal something #liveblog

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 28

wc: 3020, masterpost

“I get why you insisted on picking me up,” she said as she watched the black sedan part the sea of reporters outside of Wayne Manor. Her hand made a half aborted motion, like she wanted to fidget with with her hair despite the red being cropped close to her scalp in a pixie cut.

The haircut would be a new thing, or new enough that in stress old habits were still there. Perhaps something she did when moving into her doctorate. A new hair cut to go with a new stage of life. She went for an extreme though, maybe trying to shed a metaphorical weight or maybe a bob would have been too much like her mother’s hair. Maybe both.

Dick gave his head a little shake and tried to stuff the parts of himself that couldn’t help be analyze someone away.

It was worse with the stress of it all.

“I know, right? They’ve been crazy,” Dick said with a laugh.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Dick blinked. “Do what?”

“Pretend everything is okay. You don’t have to do what with me. After all, we’re both big siblings, aren’t we?” Her own, wry smile didn’t reach her aquamarine eyes.

Dick wanted to protest and for a moment he almost did. Then Dick just sighed and let himself slump into his seat. “That obvious?”

“No, I just know what it’s like,” Jazz said.

“I shouldn’t be putting this on you though, not with what happened to Danny—”

She held up manicured hand. “Don’t. Suffering isn’t a competition. Besides, I got to learn this happened knowing that Danny was already safe and being taken care of. I didn’t have to think he was dead like you all did. I also didn’t have to learn about all the rest of it. It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“Knowing my little brother is still dead?” Dick gave a bitter bark of a laugh. “Yeah, it’s hard.”

“Half dead,” Jazz said with a smile that was all too understanding. “That half part is important to them. They’re half dead. They’re half alive. They aren’t the little brothers we had before and that’s hard. It’s okay for that to be hard.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “It shouldn’t change anything.”

“But it does.”

“It does.”

“That’s alright,” Jazz soothed. “It’s a big fact, of course it’s going to change things. As long as he’s still your little brother and you love him then the rest won’t matter so much, not with some time.”

The car came to a stop in the garage. Dick let himself take a deep breath as the door rolled closed. It was always about needing time, but at least they still had it.

“Well, Miss Nightingale, shall we go inside?”

“Thank you, Mister Grayson,” she said and took his offered hand to get out of the car. “And thank you again for the ride, Alfred. Picking me up from WE was the right move.”

“And you needn’t worry about your car, it will be safe in the parking garage,” Alfred assured her.

She covered an amused snort with her hand. “You saw my car, no one is going to try and steal that old thing.”

Alfred held the door to the house open. “Perhaps slightly more worried about the press hoping to find something.”

“Would they really break into my car?”

“They would,” Tim said from where he was standing inside the door, typing away on a tablet. “Gotham’s lost prince shows up at a gala with his mystery boyfriend and then proceeds to press the kill button for said boyfriend? The press is going insane for it. If it was just Gotham’s press it would be one thing, but it’s broken containment and fast. Have you said anything to any reporters? Even any non statements? Is there anything that the might dig up on you, other than your parents, that we need to know about?”

“Jazz, this is Tim. We’re sorry about him,” Dick said with a strained smile. It only got worse when he took in Tim and the heavy bags under Tim’s eyes. “Tim, when was the last time you slept?”

Tim waved the question away. “I had a power nap after breakfast.”

“What Master Timothy means is that he fell asleep at the table mid-meal,” Alfred chastised as he continue into the manor proper.

“Still counts,” Tim muttered. Finally he looked up from his tablet to blink listlessly at them. “Well?”

“Tim,” Dick chastised.

“No, it’s fine,” Jazz said with a patient smile of someone used to behavior like this. “It really is… everywhere. I haven’t said anything to any press other than ‘no statement’ and I can’t think of anything. Well, I mean, I have a girlfriend but if they have an issue with her they already have Danny and Jason to rage over. How is Danny handling it all?”

“Tim has blocked all social media from the manor. You need a password to get through it and I don’t think they’ve been bored enough to try and crack it yet,” Dick said.

Jazz looked thoughtful. “That’s probably best. I’m alright with you asking more questions, but can I see Danny first, please?”

Tim blinked as if startled by the thought. “Yes, right, of course. They’re probably still in the library, that’s where I saw them last.”

“That was yesterday,” Dick pointed out.

“Oh, well,” Tim tilted his head but didn’t stop talking. “I bet I’m still right.”

Dick just sighed and exchanged a look with Jazz. Little brothers.

-

Jazz crouched down in front of the couch and reached out to run her fingers through Danny’s hair.

“Danny.”

“Nn.”

The corner of her mouth ticked up. “Danny.”

“’ive m’er min, Jazz,” he mumbled sleepily.

“If you don’t get up, I’m calling Cujo.”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Danny explained and jolted awake before he was left just blinking confessedly at the room. When the rest of it snapped together for him he smiled brightly. “Jazz!”

“Danny!”

“Your hair looks even better in person!” Danny said, reaching out to ruffle the short locks.

“I don’t care if you’re on your deathbed Danny, I will bite you.”

Danny sighed dramatically as he sat up properly. “I never get to die on a bed. At least this time I was sitting.”

Jazz leaned forward and wrapped Danny up into a crushing looking hug. “Oh Danny, what am I going to do with you?”

“Still don’t have an answer for you there, Jazz,” Danny said. He was practically curled around Jazz and stayed that way as she shifted to sit with him on the couch.

She looked up at Jason who was still standing awkwardly by the couch where he had greeted her. “You can sit. I don’t bite.”

Jason snorted. “You just threatened to bite Danny. I don’t believe you.”

“Her bites aren’t bad,” Danny said with a yawn. “But her aim is horrible. And don’t let her have a baseball bat. She’s lethal with one of those.”

The almost fanged way that Jazz smile made that easy to believe.

“I approve of you, Nightingale,” Damian said with a decisive nod from the armchair he was occupying.

“What are you going to do now that there are two Nightingales?” Tim asked, far too innocently.

Damian scowled, his whole face scrunched up before he gave a sharp shrug. “I am confident that the Nightingales are intelligent enough to know which one I am referring to.”

Jason shook his head at the easy way the brat seemed to accept Jazz and settled on the far side of the couch from her, leaving Dick and Tim to take the two seater.

“You didn’t have to come all this way, Jazz,” Danny said, though his words were at odds with how thoroughly he had relaxed into her side.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “You were electrocute Danny, again. Of course I was going to come see you. Even if classes were in session, you’re more important than them.”

“Hum, fine,” Danny said with a huff of air. Somehow he settled in even further to his sister’s side. “Sam, Val, and Tucker send their love. With all the crazy press I told them to stay away so not to get caught up in this.”

“It is something for sure,” Jazz agreed. “How are you doing?”

“I’m tired and tired of being tired, it sucks. Oh, I’ve got more Lichtenberg scars!” Danny stuck his legs up in the air. His fuzzy, Nightwing patterned pants slid down his legs enough to show the scarring that wrapped around his ankles. The marks were still raised and red. Jason caught the legs as they dropped and settled them into his lap. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over the mark as soft reassurance that Danny was there and alive despite it all. “Not sure if these will stick around since they’re not ghostly.”

“You need to stop collecting them. No more getting electrocuted, big sister’s order.”

“Second that on boyfriend’s orders,” Jason said.

“Thirding that from the in-laws,” Dick said. In-laws? “Aw look at that, Jaybird is blushing.”

Jason pulled a throw pillow out from behind him and lobbed it at Dick. “Shut it.”

Dick easily caught the pillow with a laugh. “Jason and Danny, kissing in a tree—”

“Grayson, try to not be an embarrassment,” Damian said with a sigh.

“What? Jason and Danny could totally kiss in a tree. Danny can fly! I mean, not that we’ve seen it yet but he says he can,” Dick said.

“Oh he can. Nothing like walking into your little brother’s room to find him sitting on the ceiling,” Jazz said. “It was an interesting childhood.”

“It makes hanging things easy too,” Jason teased.

Danny sighed dramatically. “I knew you were just into me to be your glorified ladder.”

“That’s just because he wants to climb you,” Tim muttered absently.

Jason held up his hands for Dick to throw the pillow back to him and then lobbed it at Tim. It smacked Tim square in the face, making his little brother’s shoulders slump as it landed on his tablet.

“Really?”

“Don’t be crude,” Jason said.

Tim glared at Jason from under his bangs. The kid’s hair was getting long again. “Oh that’s rich coming from the Red Hood.”

“Red Hood?” Jazz’s voice cracked slightly.

Jason buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Oh, shit, did she now know? I thought she knew!”

The whole couch shifted as Danny pulled himself up by Jason’s shirt so that he could cuddle him. “It’s okay, I love my hero.”

“Vigilante,” Jason mumbled.

“Daniel John Nightingale!” Jazz screeched. “Tell me you’re not doing vigilante stuff again!”

“Ooooooh full named!” Dick heckled.

“I am not doing vigilante stuff again,” Danny said.

“He’s really not,” Jason promised as he shifted Danny around to be more comfortable. “That’s just family business. I wouldn’t ask him to get involved.”

“Family…,” Jazz said. Jason watched her eyes dart from Danny to Jason to the rest of them. “Ancients you’re all, what would you call it? Various Batmen?”

“Usually we just go with Bats,” Tim said with a little shrug. “Especially since we’re not all, or only, men.”

“Okay, Bats,” Jazz said with a sigh. “Really, Danny?”

Danny shrugged, completely unrepentant by the way he smiled. “I didn’t know! I didn’t even know Jason was a Wayne until just before we started dating. That one is maybe on me though, I’m bad with faces.”

“You always have been,” Jazz said. “Really though, no hero stuff?”

“None. I’m focused on school. Well, and Jason. Dates are very nice, but mostly I’m focused on school. You can’t blame me for enjoying dates too!” Danny said.

Jazz laughed and shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m glad you’re enjoying dates. Just try to stay out of the business, okay? I want you to be able to just enjoy your life. You have enough obligations waiting for you when you’re dead.”

“Do we have to work when we’re dead?” Tim asked desperately. “Please tell me we don’t have to work when we’re dead. That’s when I was planning to sleep.”

“No, Tim,” Jazz said gently. “Most people don’t work when they’re dead. Danny’s just an idiot—”

“Hey!”

“—who became the Ghost King without realizing what he was doing. His forever job starts when he dies.”

“Wait wait wait,” Dick spread his hands. “Danny is royalty?”

“Mhum.”

“Oh my god,” Dick said with a gleeful smile that Jason didn’t trust one bit. “Does that make Jason a prince? Queen? Does it feel like you’re in one of your regency books, Jay? What’s it like.”

Jason groaned and buried his face into Danny’s hair. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Dick cooed.

“Oh good, Jason can work then,” Tim said. “I just want to sleep.”

“You can sleep now,” Jason pointed out. “No one is stopping you. Hell, Alfred would encourage it.”

“Can’t,” Tim said. “I’ve got to get this PR stuff done. Is this a diplomatic issue now too?”

“What can I answer to help?” Jazz asked in such a patently big sibling way that Jason glanced up to exchange a look with Dick. Having one more person after Tim to rest couldn’t hurt.

Tim pursed his lips. “We’ve already done the usual asking for respect during this difficult time. Babs and I have been working on making sure the part of the video where Danny asked Jason to press the button is in circulation and in the right hands. There have been some pointed emails sent. Bruce is going to go on tomorrow and give a brief statement— which we need some answers for. We’ve got Clark coming to interview in a few days to do a proper story. Luckily Vickie Val has made it easy for us to go out of Gotham for that story with how she’s been behaving.

“They’ve found out about your parents, of course, but we were able to respond instantly with your name change and, in all essence what was nearly emancipation with how quickly you did it and moved out. There are some character stories from old classmates though calling you odd but also defense from current ones that we’ve been pushing further up in the SEO. Between those details and his survival, it’s no wonder that the question of Danny being a meta is circling That’s the main thing we need to know how to address and if we want to play into it.”

Jason had to take a moment to respond to all that. He’d been so focused on helping Danny heal and stay happy that he hadn’t even thought half of that through. He knew the press were out there, of course they were, but… “You’ve really worked this out, haven’t you?”

Tim just blinked owlishly at him. “Of course I have. It’s what I do. I know you didn't like me looking into Danny when we first found out about you dating him, but… this is why I do those things. Not just to protect the family from other people, but to protect the people who get close to us. I can help direct the conversation because I know ahead of time that things like the Fentons will come up."

“Thank you Tim, really.”

“Um… you’re welcome,” Tim said before he looked back down at his tablet. “We do need to decide if we go the meta route at all. Would that cause issues with the Fentons? Do they also hate metas?”

“No,” Jazz said. “Well, they would basically look at superheroes to make sure they weren’t ghosts in disguise or possessed, but other than that they didn’t really mention metas. It was actually pretty much a non topic in our town with everything else.”

“But we’d have to be careful with what we say I can do or… well, they’ll clock me as a ghost. I’ve never wanted to find out what would happen then.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to go to a hospital?” Dick asked in that carefully gentle tone of his.

Danny shrugged. “That but more old fears. There used to be a group called the GIW that were government funded ghost hunters that had legal clearance, basically, to experiment and exterminate any ecto-entities. I really don’t want to be dissected like some classroom frog.”

“Vivisected,” Jazz corrected in such an absent way that it spoke of old arguments.

Jason clutched Danny closer to him.

“It’s okay. They never really were very above the board, it turned out, and when the power changed hands they lost their funding and just sort of disappeared.”

“But it doesn’t mean there fear did,” Dick summed up.

“We will look into them,” Damian said, standing. “To be certain that they are gone and no longer a threat to you or Todd. Drake, you will not be needed on this while you are in this sleep deprived state. I will seek Gordon’s help instead.”

“Hey! I can still—”

“Finish up asking us questions,” Jazz interrupted smoothly. “It wouldn’t be hard to spin Danny as a mild meta from the results of a lab accident.”

“Maybe even give a half truth,” Jason said. “He was electrocuted around some chemicals and he ended up with a mild resistance to it.”

“That could work,” Tim said, tapping away on his tablet. “Generally useless in day to day life other than cutting down on annoyances when wiring something but just enough to survive this sort of trap. Have Bruce throw in a joke about how Danny produces a lot of static electricity or something to lighten the mood.”

“And it would make it seem like Danny has a resistance, not a weakness, in case anyone tries something again,” Jason added.

“That would be nice. Being tased really, really sucks,” Danny whined.

Jason pressed a kiss to Danny’s temple. “I know, fish.”

“Yes, alright, Bruce will need to put it in his own Brucie wording but I think this will work,” Tim said with a little nod. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

---

AN: Rereading through this, this might just be the whole chapter. Maybe I'll make the interview it's own chapter to cut down on the shock of going to that style of pov and piece. And then the final* chapter? Thoughts thoughts...

Anyways, words are hard, brain is tired, here is Jazz!

You can subscribe to the masterpost here.

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

[seiya-starsniper]

I don't know if you're still doing the flower language prompts, but I wanted to send about twelve and narrowed it down to two lol.

So for Dreamling: Sunflower, dwarf ("How many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?") and/or Tarragon ("Here's all the reasons why you shouldn't like me")

🤘 five-and-dimes

@five-and-dimes my beloved, so happy to hear from you!!! <3 I did my best to combine these two because they’re SUCH GOOD PROMPTS and they also fit the @monsterfucktoberbingo theme so well. Hope you enjoy!!!

Square: Cryptid

Flower Prompt Game!

----------

When Roderick Burgess unveils his circus’s latest spectacle, Hob is one of the only spectators who doesn’t gasp or recoil in abject horror at what he reveals.

“Behold! I have captured the omen of Death himself!” Roderick declares loudly. “Many have decried his existence, but here he stands before you!” he gestures to the chained being. “Look upon his horrid form. Does he not strike fear even in the bravest of men?”

Well, he certainly struck something in Hob, but he wasn’t sure that the feeling was fear.

The creature on display was absolutely stunning, if Hob were honest, but he can understand why his appearance would seem a horror at first. The thing certainly wore the basic shape of a man, with pale white skin that seemed to glow under the harsh din of the spotlight, and messy black hair that fell down to his shoulders. But where his feet would be, there were instead large, golden talons with long obsidian nails that dug deep into the dirt below them as the creature struggled to keep his balance.

And his hands. They were barely hands at all, with only four fingers on each, and white nails so long they were practically claws. The skin too, from finger to elbow was ashen black as if burnt, but when Hob looked closer, he could see the skin there shimmered like the rest of him in the light. 

The most significant part of the creature, though, was his wings. They were what Hob expected an angel’s wings to appear like, large and spanning the length of his body. Except, instead of white, these wings were pitch black, with the very tips of them colored a deep red, as if dipped in blood during war. Hob so badly wanted to see the full wingspan of the creature, certain that it would outdo even an albatross, but, understandably, Burgess had completely bound the creature’s wings in both rope and chains in a measure to keep him from escaping.

Burgess cracks his whip near the creature’s feet and he snarls at the crowd, who jeer and yell in response. Burgess cracks the whip twice more but the creature has gone silent, glaring defiantly now at all its unwanted audience. 

When its eyes land on the area Hob is seated in, he swears it is his eyes the creature locks his gaze onto. And oh, even from as high up as he is, Hob can feel the ice forming in those cold blue eyes. It pierces through him like a hot knife through butter, and Hob finds himself willingly drawn in, wanting to move closer, wanting to reach out and touch this magnificent being—

The lights cut out shortly after, ending the show for the night. Hob goes to bed that night and dreams of the creature on the stage, dreams of talons and feathers, and drowning in an ice cold lake the color of the being’s eyes. 

When he wakes in the morning, Hob is resolute. A creature as magnificent as that does not belong in chains. He sets fire to Burgess’s circus arena later that night, and he and the creature (Dream, he called himself) steal away into the night.

—-

“Why are you helping me?” Dream asks him one afternoon after they’ve been on the run for three days.

“Would you rather I left you to rot in Burgess’s circus?” Hob shoots back as he’s skinning the stag Dream hunted and caught them for dinner.

“You had a life in that village, did you not?” Dream says, refusing to let go of the subject and stomping his talons into the forest floor. “Why throw it away for something like me?”

Hob shrugs. “I’m a widower with a dead son,” he replies. “Not much of a life by anyone’s definition. Besides,” he adds, “You looked like you needed saving.”

“So it’s pity then?” Dream snarls, unfurling his wings to their full length. They brush against the nearby trees and the sheer strength of their muscles snap a few branches clean off. Hob realizes he had been right about Dream’s wingspan. It was wider than that of an albatross, and they were absolutely gorgeous. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Hob says before he can stop himself.

Dream stumbles back and retracts his wings, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. 

“You don’t mean that,” Dream says, looking anywhere but at Hob. He’s got a furiously red blush that starts at his cheeks and seems to crawl all the way down to his chest. It makes him look even lovelier.

Hob smiles despite himself. “Maybe that’s why I saved you,” he chuckles. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

“Then you are an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Dream replies, before he stomps off. 

—-----------

On a particularly cold night, Hob wakes to find himself covered by one of Dream’s wings.

“This means nothing,” Dream mutters, even as he presses his chest to Hob’s back. 

Hob can’t help but grin like a fool. He reaches out to run a finger along the bend of the wing that’s currently serving as his blanket, and delights when he feels Dream shudder behind him.

“Your secret’s safe with me, you big softie,” Hob chuckles before he falls back asleep, feeling more content than he has in years.

—------------

They’ve been on the run for almost a year before Burgess and his men manage to catch up to them. They’re cornered at the bottom of a valley, and Hob knows if they can make it to the river and cross it, they’ll be all right. Burgess’s men are all on horses that wouldn’t dare cross the rushing waters. 

They’re almost to the clearing when Dream stops suddenly and says, “Leave me.”

“What?! No, I’m not leaving you!” Hob exclaims. “Come on, we’re almost at the river—”

“Burgess’s horses will cross the river,” Dream replies. “He’s desperate to get me back, alive or dead. And you are tired.”

“I’m fine,” Hob insists. 

“You’re not!” Dream argues. “You’re practically limping and you—you have done more than enough for me. If I leave you now and fly north, they’ll stop following you and come after me instead.”

“Sorry sweetheart, you’re stuck with me,” Hob replies, pulling out his sword and getting ready to fight as he hears Burgess’s men grow closer. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Dream yells. “Roderick Burgess had been hunting me long before we met, and he will continue to do so until one of us is dead. You cannot possibly want to be on the run forever.”

“And if I do?” Hob asks. “Dream—how many ways do I have to tell you I want this—want you—before you’ll believe me?”

Dream hisses, and before Hob can say anything else, he finds himself lifted high into the air as Dream takes off with the both of them, rushing at full speed towards the river. His long white claws dig into Hob’s skin and Hob holds on for dear life as he buries his face into Dream’s neck to avoid the whiplash of the wind.

When they finally land, Hob can no longer hear the neighing of the horses, or the yell of Burgess’s men. Dream practically drops him to the ground, and Hob realizes the other had used the last of his strength to get them to safety. Before he can collapse, Hob catches him, and after a quick look around, manages to find a small cave that they can use for shelter for the night. 

“That was bloody brilliant, love,” Hob sighs happily once they’re inside and lying side to side. “Think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Dream mumbles. “Love me, at all. I have caused you nothing but harm, and you will always be on the run so long as you stay with me. I cannot give you any of the comforts of a human life, not money, status, or a family.”

“I know,” Hob replies gently, taking Dream's dark hands in his. “I’m not asking you to. I told you before, all I want is you. You can give me all the reasons you want about why I shouldn’t, but I’ll still choosing you.”

“Idiot,” Dream says, but his tone is fond. He then wraps a wing around Hob and scoots closer, so their bodies are flush against each other. “Though I suppose you are my idiot.”

Hob smiles and presses his lips to Dream’s. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #monsterfucktoberbingo #the sandman fanfic #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling

[qiupachups]

hobie brown

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 🎸💭

contents: general hcs, london based hobes bc i live there

a/n: my wife! the picture above is ‘stay close to me— omega sessions’ by bad brains (super cute song and so hobie)

When he’s not playing shows, antagonising fascists, or staging unpermitted political action slash performance art pieces— Hobie takes care of his garden. There’s just about anything growing on his canal boat that can survive London.

It’s fun just like him! He can repurpose whatever he finds into a planter, which includes old Henry Hoovers.

Most things we take for granted are ridiculously scarce in his world, like running hot water. Not wanting to waste this luxury, Hobie developed the skill of taking extremely fast showers.

Sometimes it feels like he steps in and comes straight out. It’s a little unnerving.

Once a month, Hobie does a super deep clean of his canal boat. He finds all sorts of inter-dimensional trash he’s collected over the weeks. After heaving it off the deck, you swear the boat groaned in relief.

Where does it all go? Miguel’s dimension, of course. The man didn’t have to guess the mystery fly-tipper when he saw the bags flickering through the colour spectrum. In Hobie’s defence, the waste disposal system is better in Earth-98.

If you hadn’t realised yet, Hobie is a methodical and thoughtful spidey. He plans for the best times to grow his produce and harvests them at the perfect time (not always since he’s usually… busy).

After freezing or preserving the amount he needs, he gives the rest to his community. So, expect some strawberry jam materialising at your doorstep.

For as longer as he remembers, Hobie could always cook. There was never a time he didn’t help feed his community or volunteer at F.E.A.S.T— even with his responsibilities post spider-bite.

In Hobie’s eyes, there’s nothing better than a good home-cooked meal. He can make something (amazing) from nothing so you can trust him even when it feels like there’s just dust left in the cupboard.

Multiple spideys can agree that Hobie’s singing isn’t the best. When Gwendy gave him a very forced smile, it only broke his heart a little. The face of Hobie’s idol basically admitting his singing sucks isn’t a big deal. Duh. He’s a big girl— he can handle that…

Thankfully, playing his MaryJane (guitar) more than makes up for it. If he’s not using it to torment police, he’ll make the best damn art that’s gonna stick in your head rent free.

With at least eleven piercings and counting, the dos and don’ts of them are like second nature to Hobie. That’s only eleven we can see— who knows how many more he has hidden? Without a doubt, there’ll be more to come.

Instead of getting blood poisoning from Claires or judged by a pretentious tattoo artist, go to Hobie. He’ll refuse payment but he wouldn’t turn down a drink.

Hobie isn’t called the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man for nothing. His genuine (almost violent) care for his community has earned him the respect of basically everyone, despite their initial concerns.

“A dependable young man.” That’s how the elderly women tend to describe Hobie. They’re his biggest allies since he’d drop almost anything to help them cross a road or carry groceries.

Gwendy’s chucks aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last thing he’ll steal. (You seriously think Hobie just happened to have shoes in her size and colour?)

He’ll definitely nick something of something of yours when you’re not looking. Once you realise, he’ll hold it high above your head and force you to jump for it. Why? Because he can.

Like every other British teen, Hobie’s dabbled in some underage drinking. It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught! When he’s drunk, he’ll be obnoxiously sweet and yell stuff like “You’re gorgeous, luv!” because he truly means it.

In addition to Hobie’s strange array of skills, being good at pub games is another. Beer pong, darts, etc… you name it: he’ll clear it. Hell, he might start organising them if he’s drunk enough.

In his personal humble opinion, roses are way too cliche for a romantic gift. It’s overdone, boring and stupidly difficult to obtain in his universe. So instead, Hobie rips off that patch you’ve been eyeing and gifts that to you.

As much as he’d like to, Hobie couldn’t rip off every patch for you. Instead, he makes a matching set and he’s cheesy enough to sew his one over his heart.

tag: @vhstown thanks for bean card xx

#atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie hcs #hobie my beloved #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse hcs #spider punk #spiderpunk #chewy writes ♪

[wrathofrats]

idk why but I thought you may like the idea of Aurora, when she's new to performing publicly, fears that the fans may see her as "the innocent one" or something similar due to her being Very Obviously Smol in comparison to the other ghouls, ghoulettes, and of course, Papa. Being, y'know, a demon, she instead decides she wants to be the raunchiest one on stage...

So she decides to try and sneak a flash of some kind to the crowd during a ritual and it may go a bit further than she intends :]

I hope this is ok!! I modified the request a bit bc I was having thoughts and ideas. It’s maybe a bit misogynistic, dew and Swiss really teasing Aurora over the whole innocent thing. But I am a gay woman so I’m allowed to perpetuate sexist stereotypes and if you disagree you’re also sexist. (THIS IS A JOKE) but know the banter is in good fun, they’re obv all some kind of poly bonded pack thing so auroras gucci.

Or aurora decides to throw her panties into the crowd, and things don’t exactly go her way (based on that panties on dews guitar gif you know the one)

“I’m not doing this with you right now dew” Aurora grumbles, batting his hands off of her.

Dew looks too smug. Like hes won some secret game that Aurora doesn’t know about. A mischievous glint in his eye that makes Aurora want to kick him in the balls to hopefully neuter his perpetual horniness.

It’s their own little tradition at this point in the tour. Swiss and dew and whoever else was bored would come hang out in the ghoulettes dressing room while they pinned their hair to fit neatly under their helmets and to apply the black face paint. Dew usually showed up to steal cumulus’ never ending supply of bobby pins, and swiss was there to help with smearing the paint onto everyone.

“Iighten up your highness” dew laughs, backing away from her with his hands up as if he didn’t just wrap them around her body to grab at her waist. “You’re not this prudish when you come knocking at my hotel door”

“I’m not a prude,” Aurora grumbles. Swiss and dew giggle to themselves as Aurora swipes her hands at them to make them back up from where she’s placed herself on the counter. She can feel cirrus’ glare through the mirror, directed at the two idiots that are currently still laughing among themselves.

“You’re telling me you’re not ms ‘don’t mention sex around the other ghouls! They can’t know I’ve fucked you!’” Swiss teases, his voice pitching to mock auroras. “Come on princess, I don’t know why you demand to be seen as so innocent.”

Aurora wants to scream at them to leave their dressing room already. Dew and Swiss can tend to be idiots while they’re separated, but together? Aurora isn’t sure how they manage to lose brain cells when they combine.

“I just didn’t want anyone knowing I’ve fucked you, I don’t care about anyone else”

She’s not innocent like Swiss says, is she? Sure she’s smaller, tends to be more reserved in that regard, but Aurora thinks it’s unfair to call her innocent of all terms. She could be worse sure, not tending to go as far as humping the stage or groping her bandmates like dumb and dumber, but she likes her little act. She likes her swishy cape and little dances with her tambourine, and how she twirls and -

God maybe she is a princess.

The boys continue to laugh, mostly shoving each other around at this point. Aurora can hear cirrus yell at Swiss to shut up and help her with her paint, even now lost in her own thoughts. Ideas come and go, staring at her lap and swinging her legs. She’s not innocent. She’s just as bad as the rest of them and they all know that. The fans know that too, right? She’s a demon, a fucking creature from hell.

She’s not innocent.

She hops off her perch to shove her way past dew and into the bathroom to pull her uniform bottoms off. Her idea is probably stupid, will probably get her reprimanded and placed on whatever terrible chore imperator comes up with when they get back. But the reactions from the other ghouls, especially Swiss and dew, will make it worth it.

Aurora quickly takes off her panties and pulls her uniform back up, cringing at the feeling of the rough fabric against her. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but the weird insecurity of not wearing underwear makes every sensation feel tenfold.

A 5 minute call sounds through the rooms. She grabs her underwear and hastily puts them in her pocket before running out to get in her position.

Her movements are meant to tease. Hands running over her body, jutting her hips behind her hoping Swiss will look back at her. She wants him to come on her platform, wants him to take her on the innocent act she’s been offering. She wants him to smell her through her uniform.

It’s just an extra personal part in her plan. She tries not to bounce giddily as he does notice and run behind the different set pieces to come walk up into her space. He can feel his breath on her neck as he approaches her, his all too wide smile trying to intimidate her, mock her after their conversation earlier.

Auroras lucky Swiss is good at improv, and an even better performer. Barely reacts as she shoves him to his knees. Even grabs her thighs and mock drags his tongue along her legs. Hes fucking obscene, she should’ve known the reaction she would get like this.

The real reward is the way she can see Swiss’ mouth twitch as he shoves his face right next to her cunt. He can smell her, would nose against the outline if they weren’t still performing in front of thousands of people, honestly she’s sure he’s forgotten considering the way his face turns into a snarl. Aurora is positive she will pay for this later, but for now? She couldn’t be happier.

The second phase of her plan comes once Swiss leaves. She eyes the audience carefully, eyes her bandmates to wait for the perfect opportunity. Dew turns to mess with rain, while phantom moves to mess with the audience on his side of the stage. All the ghouls are occupied, not paying attention.

Aurora pulls her panties out of her pocket, balling them in her fist so they can’t be seen through her hand. Hastily she throws them towards the crowd, praying they make it to their destination.

Whatever she prayed to however, is not listening.

They land directly next to dewdrop, right by his feet as he steps back onto them. He pulls his foot up, eyeing the black fabric in confusion. She watches in horror as he swings them around his finger, looking back at her as if he knows they’re hers,

Before hanging them on the head of his guitar. Displaying them for the whole crowd.

#hastily throws this down #hi #I know this was sent forever ago I’m so sorry #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #aurora ghoulette #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul

[gretavanlace]

Blurred Lines

Jake kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, very light impact play, explicit language, overstimulation, etc.

Just a little something quick I whipped up because my life is now an absolute dumpster fire thanks to Jake and his eyeliner. Fairly lazy editing, my apologies in advance ❤️

Sexy? Yes, you had expected that. A feral crowd calling forth that smirk of his that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing. The wicked gleam in his eye that says ‘they want me and I love it’, you had expected that too.

What you didn’t expect, was the wild, white-hot flame that would be stoked way down deep inside you. The moment he appeared, a rock and roll angel…wings hidden beneath his jacket, you wanted to fall to your knees with a warm, wet, open mouth offering a home for his cock.

Eye liner. A sweep of charcoal along his lash line, expertly applied, rendering his gaze even more beautiful than usual. No man has any business being that pretty. Gorgeous, really. Feminine in the most delicious way. In the way that serves as a testament to the unwavering confidence and security in his own skin he possesses.

You had wanted him then, badly. Wanted to climb into his lap and kiss his lovely face, to suck on his bubble gum pink tongue, to rock your hips against him until he was so hard neither of you could bear it any longer.

Yes, you’d been down astronomically bad then, but now? Watching him destroy his guitar, fingers flying along the frets so rapidly they’re no more than a blur. Sweat glistening and rolling down his chest like diamonds as he flirts with the audience, stealing heart after heart, liner now smudged and messy from exertion…now your need is nearly painful.

If he were to curl a finger at you, you’d make your way over from side-stage and bow to his every whim…audience be damned.

You have to have him, and you don’t want him on the bus where you’re both forced to be gentle and quiet lest the others hear (although you’re fairly certain they still do from time to time). No, you want to fuck, with him behind you, looking like a whore of a pirate who stepped foot on dry land and somehow ended up here.

Never before have you ducked out before the end of their set, but there’s a first time for everything. If he swaggers off stage like usual - an arm will be wrapped around your waist in greeting as he bullshits with his brothers about the show…what went wrong, what went right, what might go wrong and right next time, it will carry on and on.

Normally you don’t mind. In fact, you enjoy it. But if you’re forced to stand around aching and fiending for the fix only he can bestow, you very well might begin tearing into him right in front of the others.

If he leaves the stage and his gaze doesn’t land on you immediately, he’ll forgo the post show back and forth in favor of hunting you down.

And it is to that end, that you find yourself waiting, not so patiently, in his dressing room.

It feels like an eternity, and exasperation is beginning to creep in when the door swings open.

“Where’d you go, baby?” He smiles through heavy pants of breath. “Were we that awful tonight?”

“Lock the door.”

“Why?” He looks confused.

Your patience is wearing incredibly thin. You want him just like this - covered in sweat, post show adrenaline coursing through his veins like the sweetest drug, screams of adoration still rattling about in his head “Just lock the fucking door, Jake.”

He reaches back and pushes the tiny button on the handle, eyes on you all the while, a quiet groan of lust escaping him when you lean over the vanity and hike your dress up over your hips. Panties are next to go, shoved down mid-thigh, blush pink lace as soaked and warm as your cunt.

“Look at you, my poor, pretty little thing. Does baby need some attention?” His voice is slightly hoarse. Always a tell as to how turned on he is. The man has no poker face when it comes to being buried inside you.

His reflection grows nearer in the mirror and your desire kicks into overdrive, shaking through your system until you’re practically vibrating with it.

“Fuck me.” It ribbons off your tongue with a tremble clutching at your throat. Twisting and squeezing in perfect time with the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His hands wrap around the curve of your waist, Chelsea boot kicking your legs further apart.

Your eyes burn into one another’s for a moment, the air in the room so thick with sexual tension that if you closed your eyes you might believe you were wandering through early morning fog.

He jerks your hips back against him, just to torture you with the heat of his hard cock, and that sets in motion what seems like a thousand movements.

Leaning forward, he sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder until you whine out in blissful pain, and then there is his finger, sneaking under the strap of your bra resting beside the mark of his teeth.

“Let me see them.” He snaps the elastic and then slides his hand between your thighs, growling low in his chest when he finds you dripping and clenching around nothing.

You chase his fingers as he teases them around, giving you just enough to pull whimper after needy whimper out of you.

“I said let me see them.” He sounds harsh and demanding, but you can see love behind the darkness in his eyes.

Yanking down on the neck of your dress, you take the cups of your bra along for the ride, leaving you nothing more than a half-dressed disheveled whore for him.

And that’s fine by you. You’d rather be a whore for him than a lady for someone else.

His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip as, at last, he finally slips two fingers inside you. “Look how fucking beautiful you are, baby. Play with them for me, and make it hurt. I know you like it.”

He feels you clench viciously around his touch the moment you take hold of your taught nipples, wrenching and tugging at them.

“You’re sucking me right in,” his breath is catching and hitching in his lungs. “I fucking love your cunt. So tight and hot. Velvet soft. Pink and greedy. What’s got her so worked up? Tell me.”

You try your hardest to collect your thoughts, but with his fingers circling into the spot only he has ever found, it’s nearly impossible.

In the end, it doesn’t matter, he figures it out for himself when you glance up and catch sight of the smoky eye his ruined liner has created…your eyes roll back in your head and he knows.

“There it is.” He sounds like sex drenched detective who has just cracked a case. “You like that? You like it when I look pretty for my sweet little whore of a fuck toy?”

“Yes…” the word drags out of you as you push back to meet his hand frantically. “Fuck me, Jake. Please, I need it. I need it so fucking bad.”

The teeth of his zipper hum open and suddenly you’re stuffed full in one smooth roll of his hips.

“Yeah,” a cocky smirk ghosts over his lips. “You’re soaked, baby. You love it, don’t you? You wanna paint my lips cherry red so I can kiss it all over this gorgeous pussy?”

You smack your palm harshly against the polished wood you’re bent over, biting down on your lip feverishly in an effort to keep quiet.

He reaches around and tugs it free…he wants every sound. Every moan and sigh, every call of his name. “Tell me I’m pretty.”

A flash of heat explodes in your chest, spider cracking all the way down to your toes.

Hand slipping downward, he wraps his grip around your neck, squeezing as if he’s trying to coax praise off your tongue with his touch. “Say it.”

“You’re so pretty, Jake…” each word is followed by a tiny gasp for air as he fucks into you harder and faster “A fucking princess with a cock. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

He groans out an animalistic noise that springs goosebumps to life on your skin. His head falls back and you’re reminded of stage Jake, practically fucking his guitar, losing himself in the haunting notes his talented fingers call forth.

Once again, he finds your eyes in the mirror. “Come on, baby, cum for me. I’m so fucking close.” A shiver ripples through him as his cock jerks wildly deep inside you.

“Go ahead, Jakey…” you can’t tear your eyes away from him. “Give it to me.”

He shakes his head, sending his layers whipping around. “You first. I need to feel it. Fuck…be a good girl and do as you’re told…cum on my cock.”

A wail of a whine tumbles out of you, as you tighten around him like a silken fist.

“It's pretty, too.”

You’ve hardly made a sound, but he catches it.

“Is it?” The question drifts out with a hint of a slur - he’s completely drunk on you. “A pretty cock for a beautiful cunt.” He cracks a sharp smack against the outside of your thigh. “Now give it the fuck up, baby girl. I want it.”

Your muscles jerk and tense up tight as a drum listening to his teeth click together with a clenched jaw as he fights his own need. “C’mon sweetheart, please…”

The effort was valiant, but he loses the battle, and with a hushed call of your name, the sinful heat of his release warms you from the inside out and you wish you could keep it there forever. A bit of him secreted away safe and sound within you.

“Don’t stop..” you beg as his cursing cries morph into tiny whines of overstimulation. “Don’t fucking stop.”

He can’t deny you anything, so he carries on, fighting through it in order to get you there while you babble and moan incoherently, words peppered through. Harder. Right there. Keep going. Obscenities you’d be ashamed for anyone else to hear.

With the most endearing fucked out noise you’ve ever heard him utter, he sends you sailing over the edge, nails raking into the vanity, body shaking and squirming so intensely he is forced to wrap an arm around your waist to hold you somewhat still around his cock as it throbs and aches for mercy.

His forehead falls against your shoulder, tired, spent, satiated in the way he’s only ever felt with you.

Right here, you have all you’ll ever need…but soon, the spell is broken when you register the lowered hum of noise on the other side of the door. The place is slowly clearing out, the others are likely already on the bus wondering what the hell has become of you two.

There’s no time to shower, but you do your best at looking at least halfway presentable, futile as it is. They’ll see through you both right away, but it isn’t the first time your indiscretions have provided them with valuable material for their entertainment, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @paleshadow-ofadragon @weightofdreams-gvf @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @dvrkblooms @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfic #greta van fic #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka imagine #gvf smut #jake kiszka #gvf x reader #gvf fanfiction #gvf #gvf jake

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Five

The thing is I absolutely love the album that comes out of this mess. Like I know a lot of people do not like Let It Be, but so many of my favorite songs are on it. One of them being “I Me Mine.” The walz element is haunting, and I can read the lyrics as anti-capitalist even though George himself mostly wasn’t. 

Laughing my head off at two boys from one of the best grammar schools in England, who have at this point made millions off of their writing, genuinely not knowing whether it should be “more freer” or “more freely”

The difference in how George shows Paul his new song vs John is striking. For Paul, he’s relaxed, nonchalant. For John, he stands up and performs it. And I think both are a defense mechanism, poor baby, because clearly, although Paul was very supportive of the song while they were alone, when John is roasting it, Paul just laughs along and George has to go “I don’t give a fuck whether you like it.” 

Ah, the famous “up-against-a-wall” conversation. Paul comes in all dominant and sure. “Haven’t you written anything else? Haven’t you?” But then John touches him, and makes him laugh, and Paul’s a melted, goo-goo-eyes mess. This is the real reason why John got to be the leader isn’t it? Because Paul was too damn soft on him to ever follow through with his bossiness.

Their scouse sounds BEAUTIFUL compared to the stupid ugly RP and MLH’s transatlantic shit.

“And now John’d like to say a few words on the subject.” John starts singing, Paul strums along and joins in on the “chorus.” They can’t communicate like healthy people, but they Can do this. 

So Peter Jackson took out Paul’s bitchy nod at Yoko as he’s stealing her man in real time right in front of her eyes. Unforgivable. But he kept in this adorable laugh, so that’s something. 

Three more covers that I think *mean something* “Stand By Me” and “Spinning Like a Top” by Paul, followed by “You Win Again” by John. Yoko’s sweet little shoulder kiss. Thank you for taking care of the poor wet kitten, girly. Maybe don’t introduce the poor wet kitten to heroine, but you do you, I guess. (OP recognizes that poor wet kitten is also an adult capable of making his own decisions)

The cut from Paul literally dancing to get John’s attention straight to John dancing with Yoko while inside Paul’s head a silver hammer is clanging ominously. I can’t. Followed by the knowing, loving smile from Ringo to Paul. You know, those moments when you validate your friend’s bitchy thoughts with a look. 

George is literally SO big inside himself, you know? You have to have superhuman self-love abilities to watch your friend – who is supposed to be helping you – shamelessly make fun of your art . . . and just “Do you wanna do that walz on the show? That’d be great.”

But did you guys know John was actually a really great mover?

“Yes, alright. Just sod off.” I love John. Paul’s people-pleasing ass would literally die first and he needs John to do this kind of shit for him and John’s only too happy to.

The moment when Paul and John are on the same wavelength about Dennis O’Dell’s stage. 

OK but. Did John get the clear plastic idea from Yoko’s art exhibits? 

“Any time we do anything it’s always got to be the best.” Poor Ringo. They’re all literally so tired of carrying so much weight for such a long time. 

“See, I’d watch an hour of him just playing the piano. Cause he’s so great.” With that fond, loving, smile. SUCH big dick energy here. The others could NEVER. 

“And I’ll have the plastic when you’re finished.” Literally for what, though? John, you little hoarding goblin. 

And then Ringo responding to MLH’s “I love you” with “Yes, I love you too.” Yeah, Ringo wins the prize for most healthy beatle of the day. 

*Pattie Boyd voice* “I just wish I knew what was going on there. But something. Something.”

Ugh, John looks so hurt. So tender. So heartbroken. While Paul is over there playing a damn funeral march because that’s the only way he lets himself express anything. But I actually love how Dennis O’Dell knows the clearest path to cheering John up is to say that Paul liked his idea. And how well it works. They’re literally so obvious to everyone but themselves. 

I love the bit when John walks in on the rest of them discussing the live show and MLH calls, “We’ve decided. We’re going to Africa.” And Paul hurries to cut in, “No we’re NOT.” Because he knows exactly how John can get and he’s going to nip this in the bud before John gets let down. And of course, John is all “YEAH LETS GO LETS GO!” And he’s talking about how they always wish they were recording abroad. “We could be in LA, or FRANCE.” (side eye emoji) 

Paul’s “Well said, John.” and “I’ve seen it, John. I went to the premiere. I thought you were great.” Why do all your compliments to him have to be in silly voices? Like, I know you think everyone is going to call you a pussy for saying something genuinely kind to your best friend, but they’re not, and he needs it. 

Holy shit this was a long day. See you all tomorrow with another long-winded-ass post.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

[aroaessidhe]

okay I was asked about fey books I’ve read that Do stick to folklore a bit more than certain popular books - and actually looking at what fey books I’ve read  it’s a bit like.... books that stick to folklore closely I sometimes Don’t Love, and there are others that don’t stick to it as much but I like the overall narrative more? or some mix of that. 

so here’s a list of a few - a range of how much they stick to folklore (which of course is an amorphous thing) and how much I like them, but it’s something!

YA

That Self-Same Metal - literally just read this, it’s about a Black girl who’s the stage blade expert for shakespeare’s company and can see fey, and they’re appearing more and more in the city. explores a bit of the midsummer night’s dream fey but also like “shakespeare was wrong” and general folklore. definitely the start of a series and has a lot going on but I thought it has some cool ideas!

all Holly Black’s books deal with them well! the Modern Faerie Tales companion/trilogy has maybe aged a bit by now, and I hate way the romance ended up together in The Folk of the Air (and the way the fandom is about it) but otherwise I do really like how it deals with fey and politics! also enjoyed The Darkest Part of the Forest. these are all intertwined/same world

The Buried And The Bound - a hedgewitch girl keeps fey away from her town, and gets caught up with two boys who are cursed. mostly deals with minor fey and a powerful hag

An Enchantment of Ravens - it’s been quite a few years since I read this, but I do remember enjoying it. It is a bit more of a romance focused story also, an artist stolen into the fey realm for painting a fey prince as if he was human(iirc?)

The Bone Houses - not directly dealing with fey, but like the aftermath of the ancient fey’s curses? welsh myth inspired. which I think is cool.

At The Edge of The Woods - about a girl in a religious/patriarchial village who starts to have strange dreams about a fey boy luring her into the woods. it’s not super focused on them, but they’re very much the classic ‘dangerous fey stealing people away for entertainment’ kind of thing

Adult

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries - I sort of have mixed feelings about this - I really enjoy how it dealt with fey and the creepier folklore creatures side of it! the handling of the changeling was a bit iffy and not sure about the romance

The Wolf Among the Wild Hunt - dark fantasy novella about a wolf-shifter made to join the wild hunt to save his qpr. focused on the unseelie/wild hunt area

Silver in the Wood - gaslamp fantasy novella about the keeper of a magical forest, dryads and dangerous fey

The Wind City - a bit of a mashup of fey folklore and Māori atua in a modern NZ setting

Sinners/Veiled - very classic but also with the element of a modern setting where human pollution is like a drug to fey (and the MC is a drug lord.) (so kind of dark but also not dark in the sexy way bc the MC is aroace)

Under The Pendulum Sun - this is a gothic fantasy that has a bit of a new take on a fey world, but also definitely has some of those creepy folklore vibes.

Siren Queen - this only partly involves fey but I thought the way that it mashed up old hollywood and fey (aka shady deals for fame themes) was interesting!

Sorcerer to the Crown/The True Queen - my memory on this is hazy, but I believe it’s regency fantasy, with its own take on a fey world/magic (moreso the 2nd book)

Malice/Misrule - adult high fantasy lesbian sleeping beauty reimagining, this is kind of doing it’s own thing I guess (I don’t remember if they’re even called fey?) but definitely has a bit of the creepy creature/court vibes in book 2 especially

In The Jaded Grove - I was just looking up books to see if there was anything I missed and found this, which seems interesting to me!

I also haven’t read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (but I watched the show ages ago) and I believe that has the vibe too

#book list #im sure there are some im missing HAHA #some I left out like the witch king (kinda doing its own thing and then calling them fey) or ash/huntress (only lightly touches on fey tbh) #laya talks #the iron fey i loved some of the ideas but the story is kinda bad #wicked lovely.........i can't tell what is nostalgia and what is objective but I did love that series a Lot #(it's quite 2000s YA romance focused but like also. good fey)

[teddypickerry]

nikki sixx (himself or douglas booth! nikki) x reader

Could you do one where the reader happens to also be a bassist and they’re both in Crüe, they’ve been close friends for a while and Mick notices that they’ve developed a close relationship and he has a talk with Nikki since Mick is like a older brother to the reader. Meanwhile Tommy attempts to flirt with the reader trying to push Nikki to confess.

Pretty much a cute fluff imagine :)

𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌.

pairings — nikki sixx x fem! band member reader (also reader x tommy kinda)

word count — 919

warnings — just cursing & suggestive dialogue (it’s mötley mf)

a/n — lowkey disappeared off this app for a month just to come back with a shitty fic. anyways, writing as mick is so fucking fun.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" A common phrase heard by each and every member of Mötley Crüe. When Mick Mars so suddenly spoke it to the bassist, who was currently stuffing his face with pasta. "Eating?" Nikki had asked hesitantly, confused why Mick was stood in his dressing room with a bottle of something strong. It definitely wasn't lemonade. "No, that's not what I mean."

"Well, you asked," Nikki scoffed at the guitarist's words while Mick pulled up and a chair to the couch. Nikki was alone in his dressing room, for the first time in forever. No groupies, no girls. Which was different for the bassist... practically against his religion. "What the hell are you doing with Y/N?"

Oh. That was enough to make the bassist choke on his food as he threw the bowl to the couch, swallowing down the food with a swig of Jack Daniels. He finally coughed and calmed down. Mick was still staring at him like he'd just walked into Nikki banging his daughter. "She's my friend, she's your friend. Fucking whatever."

"Shitty excuse," Mick scoffed as he sat back in the chair and took another comfortable sip. He wasn't giving up anytime soon, which was obvious by his body language. "God, what do you want, Mars?"

"Stop being a little fucker and ask the girl out already. I shouldn't have to tell you how to do every fucking thing, Sixx." Mick scoffed making Nikki roll his eyes, trying to keep his tough-guy demeanor. "And, don't fuck it up. She's special, she's our bandmate. And she's beautiful, graceful, and she'll punch you in the face. So, don't be a jackass."

"Nice talk," Nikki commented as he stood up and began to hairspray his hair in the mirror in preparation for their show later that night. Mick's words stuck in Nikki like heroin. He started thinking about them and he knew he was right. He had to face his feelings and get it out of his system. It wasn't that easy, you were a member of the band. You weren't some chick. A disastrous relationship would lead to the end of the band. The band you'd all worked your asses off to create.

"I didn't mean do it eventually, I meant now. Before Tommy fucks her in the back alley," Mick added making Nikki turn to him in horror. The sleazy drummer had a way of stealing Nikki's girls, vice versa. It was an ongoing game between the two, a pretty girl equals one of them getting her. But this time... Nikki would bet his life on this round.

The bassist bolted out of his dressing room and past the millions of randos backstage. His feet carried him down the hall toward the stage, where he knew everyone was setting up for rehearsal. Specially where he heard the sound of your laugh and the sound of drumsticks falling to the ground. That was a pretty easy trail to his best friends. Which did in fact lead to the drummer twirling his sticks in his fingers, you stood prepping your own bass with a smile.

"You've got a great smile," Tommy grinned with his typical cocky look. You'd known Tommy for years on end and his innocent flirting never stopped. It also never bothered you, as it was all you knew from the bastard drummer. But over the past few months, Nikki seemed to bite back a glare anytime he heard it from either Vince or Tommy. "I mean it, really."

"Thanks, T-Bone," You flashed him your small grin before going back in with another pack of pics. You tested out a quick riff for the sound crew as Nikki simply stood there, finally erupting from the shadows. Tommy took this as an invitation — knowing he could get Sixx all hot and bothered with a few simple words. He twisted the drumsticks with his fingers as he glanced between you and Nikki. His eyes landed on you. "You think you could do this?"

"I mean it's not rocket science," You mocked while taking the bass off and sitting it against a chair. "Well I'm pretty good at it, I'm pretty good with my fingers. Wanna find out more?" Tommy so obviously flirted making you laugh as you playfully tapped Nikki's arm. Nikki just gave Tommy a harsh look at this, that didn't exactly match your grin. "Yeah, okay, T-Bone. I bet you are."

"So good, you can find out if you want," He winked with that goofy smile of his. The one that made you shake your head as Nikki subconsciously stepped closer to you and crossed his arms. "Yeah, she's not into that." Nikki was quick to say making both sets of eyes look over at him. Tommy held a proud smile at this, "Are you saying she's into you though?"

"What if I did?" Nikki cocked like he owned the place. Your eyes darted between the two for a moment before stepping up. "Will you two shut the hell up and start rehearsing?"

"Yes ma'am," Nikki nodded while Tommy shot you an army 'yes sir' nod. The drummer walked off to his setup leaving you and the bassist to your lonesome. Nikki seemed to glance around before his eyes fell back on you. "So..."

"Let's have dinner tomorrow," You spoke before he had a chance to process it, and walked away. He watched you walk away with a smile. Knowing he had actually won.

#teddypickerry #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx blurb #nikki sixx #nikki sixx oneshot #nikki sixx x fem reader #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #mötley crue fic

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Eddie, rockstar, who goes on tours and gets raunchy letters from his fans. it also happens to make his wife jealous. she decides she's gonna show him how much better she is than some stupid explicit fan mail 🤷 or something i know that's specific

omg I love this!!! And who doesn’t love rockstar Eddie 😍

I got a little excited with this one so I wrote a fic about it :p

I was thinking about doing something smutty but tb him a little burnt out with smut since its all ive focused on writing for the last couple of months and it's been pretty difficult to work on since I’m constantly around people

But I hope you enjoy this!

No Exceptions

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines, @esme-viridian, @munsonology

Word Count- 1.5k

You glanced over at Eddie laid on his bed in the back of the tour bus as you heard him try to hide a little giggle. He and the other guys were in their separate quarters, opening and reading all the fanmail they had been sent over the last few weeks. 

Being a rockstar was a lot different than they had imagined it would be.

They thought it would be nothing but parties, girls, drinking and getting high whenever they pleased while just being able to hang out and jam for work. Instead it was full of long days of music writing and practicing, long drives to new venues, and barely any time for girls and weed. But Eddie didn’t need any other girl by his side while he had you. 

You always trusted him while they were out on the road, he wasn’t the type to cheat or lie to you, but usually the gigs they had were only a state away. A few hour drive maximum. This was the first time they were supposed to have a show nearly halfway across the country. And Eddie insisted you go along with them.

He was so happy that he was finally living his dream of being a rockstar, and with all the support you always gave him he wouldn’t dare want to experience this without you. The guys had no protests to him bringing you along, they loved having you around and always treated you with kindness and respect. Not to mention you could help find them the perfect girls while they’re out on tour. 

But over the last few hours the only stops they’ve made were at truck stops, gas stations, and fast food joints. Now they were just doing their own thing after getting a little bit of cabin fever and starting to get sick of constantly being around one another. They knew that was inevitable, especially being stuck on a cramped bus for hours on end, but for now they were all occupied with reading the dozens of letters they had gotten from their fans. 

They were excited to read them all and see all the wonderful things their fans had to say about them, not to mention how excited Gareth, Jeff and Grant got when they saw how many girls were DYING to see them and detailing all of the things they’d love to do if they ever got the chance. Eddie on the other hand always laughed at the letters he got that said things like that. 

Though Corroded Coffin was still a newer up and coming band, they had their own little group of fans that knew all about you and Eddie. 

You were that little groups power couple and they adored it whenever they saw you at a show, cheering on your man from right up front on the stage or watching him with loving eyes from backstage. Unfortunately, like all fanbases, there were a few girls who thought they would be able to steal Eddie away from you. Those were always his favorites. And lucky for you, he was giggling at the latest one he had just opened.

“What’re you giggling at?” You asked him with a smile before taking the letter from his hands and reading it to yourself, not being able to control the giggles in between nearly every word,

“’If I had the chance to spend just one night with you, I’d show you how insignificant that little groupie is and let you see what a real woman can do’?” You nearly burst out laughing just from reading it. 

“Wait, you didn’t even read the best part, look down at the bottom.” Eddie said in a fit of giggles as you laid next to him on his bed. 

You glanced down at the end of the letter and you could feel the tears start to prick the corners of your eyes,

“’From your most devoted fan, Sandra Murphy. P.S. I may be 44 but I promise I have the stamina of a 20-year-old.’” 

The two of you were laughing so hard your stomachs were hurting.

“I think she might have a better shot at Wayne than with me…” Eddie said as he tried his best to calm himself.

Those were always your favorite types of letters.

It had nothing to do with their age, how many shows they’ve been to, or how many times they’ve met the boys after a show, there was always that one handful of people who thought that no matter what they would be the one exception Eddie would make during your marriage They somehow assumed that he wanted anyone other than you. And that meant one of two things:

Eddie would ignore the letter and keep it in his collection of favorites, pulling it out whenever he needed a good laugh, or,

He would let you write back to them if they started to get threatening and always made sure to include a polaroid of the two of you.

He had his own little collections of all those letters.

He always kept all the letters from the fans that told him how much they looked up to him and all the little kids that would write to him and say how they wished they could be a rockstar just like him when they grew up. Letters from parents saying that his music was corrupting their children and turning them into satanic savages. Letters from crazed fans who were absolutely obsessed with him (those ones were usually put into a shredder). And of course, his favorites, the letters written to him by all the girls that thought with enough convincing they could get Eddie to leave you for them.

This one was definitely getting saved.

You slowly were able to calm yourselves down, a sharp turn made by the bus that almost knocked you both off the mattress was a big help for stopping the giggles, but you just couldn’t help it.

“I don’t know Eds, she sounds pretty convincing.” You said to him as you handed him back the letter, 

“Think you’re gonna take her up on her offer? I mean, I don’t want to step in between you and your ‘most devoted fan’.”

Eddie finished his giggles and tossed the letter away onto the floor as he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in close to him, the both of you secured on the bed to keep you from nearly tumbling off again,

“Oh please, its not the first letter I’ve gotten like that and it definitely won’t be the last,” He held you close to him, arms draped around your waist as your arms went around his neck, his lips sweetly kissing you as your bodies shook from another bump in the road, “and like I said, she seems more like Waynes type than mine…” 

You giggled once more and kissed him back, your hand moving up to gently hold the back of his head, your fingers carefully tangling into his soft curls,

“Maybe you should do him a favor and let him be the one to write back to her. You never know, they might really hit it off.”

Eddie smiled,

“You know, you’re right. I might have to give him a call at the next stop.”

“You’re gonna call him at the next stop no matter what!” You lightly slapped his chest, “You said you would call him at the last stop to check in and you never did! That was almost three hours ago Eds.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll call him when we get to the next stop.” Eddie raised his hand up, “Scouts honor.”

“Sweetie, you were never a scout, you can’t keep saying that.” You said with another giggle at your lips.

“Hey, if no one knows, it doesn’t hurt anything.”

You smiled with one another as you lay in bed, holding each other close in your arms as the gentle rocking of the bus was starting to lull you both off to sleep. It had already been such a long drive, and you knew you had a long while to go until you reached your destination. A nap couldn’t hurt anything. Eddie could always wait a little longer to call Wayne, he knew he’d be alright. 

For now, all he wanted to do was enjoy the scene unfolding around him.

Laying in bed with the woman he loved, on a tour bus with his best friends on their way to a new gig at a new venue in a new place. He was finally living out his dream and though he knew there was always a price to pay when it came to fame and fortune, specifically having to give up the freedom of his personal life, but as long as it meant he got to spend the rest of his days with you it didn't matter.

All those fangirls would get from him is seeing how much he loved and adored you.

And being able to show you off to everyone he could was his favorite part of his new rockstar life.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

[archiveikemen]

'The Villain's Relentless Love' Story Sale: Liam

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes and grammatical errors. Reblogs appreciated.

read this before interacting with my posts

Liam’s performance came to an end with the theatre’s audience at full house, and he basked in the audience’s roaring applause.

By the time Liam and I returned to the castle, it was already past midnight—.

Liam: *Sigh* I’m glad it went smoothly!

The moment he entered the room, Liam collapsed onto his bed and heaved a sigh of relief.

Kate: Fufu, this production took a rather long time. You’ve worked hard, Liam.

I sat down on the bed, stroking his rose coloured hair and he smiled cheerfully.

(Really though, Liam looked amazing tonight.)

Standing under the spotlight, Liam captivated every single member of the audience, like the brightest star shining in the sky. That image remained vivid in my heart.

I thought back to how my lover looked back then, and our fingers intertwined as we laid on the bed…

Liam: Hey, Kate.

Kate: … Yeah?

Liam: Recently, I realised that I have found more places that I enjoy being at.

Liam: Under the stars, on stage… and on the sheets with you.

Liam tightly squeezed our intertwined fingers and muttered like he was biting down on his words.

Liam: … You’re my special place.

Kate: … Liam.

Liam: And I must protect my favourite place. So, from now on, I’ll keep on trying my best.

Liam: I’ll steal your heart and make you love me even more.

After we became lovers, Liam was always saying that he would try his best.

His blind love made me incredibly happy and full of love.

However—

(Even though I feel the same way about him…)

I couldn’t help feeling uneasy whenever he stood on stage and captivated everyone’s gazes.

I always wished that he would love me more and more. More today than he did yesterday, more tomorrow than he does today.

(Tonight, I want to try harder than Liam.)

Kate: I feel the same way, Liam. Every day, I think about wanting you to love me even more.

Kate: And so, tonight, to reward you for your successful performance, I—

Liam: You…?

To hide my embarrassment, I pressed a kiss to Liam’s lip while he was lying on the bed.

Kate: I… I want you to love me.

Kate: I want you to do everything you want to me. … I’ll gladly accept.

Liam: Kate…

Liam: Ah… you make “everything” sound so simple…

Liam sat up and stared into my face with a testing look.

Liam: I love you much more than you think I do, I love everything about you… do you understand that?

Kate: I do. I know that you’re kind and you love me a lot.

Kate: If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to say something that embarrassing.

Liam: …

Liam: Kate — promise that you won't ever, ever hate me.

(Huh…?)

When I looked up at him, I noticed that the usual calm expression Liam had was gone.

I was surprised by how passionate he was, and I felt his hand slip to my sides before pulling me onto his lap and holding me from behind.

As I was wondering why he held me in that position,

(Ah…)

I realised that there was a large window in front of us with its curtains wide open.

The two of us were reflected on the glass window that showed the night sky outside. Just as I was about to point that out—

Kate: Mmph…

Liam grasped my chin with his fingertips, turned my head to face him, and our lips met.

(... His kiss is more intense than usual.)

I twisted my body to look back at Liam, desperate for his tongue.

Liam’s hand moved to touch my breasts over my clothes.

Kate: Ahh…

In that position, Liam toyed with my sensitive peaks through my clothes, sending a tingling sensation through my body.

Liam: They’re getting so pointy. Doesn’t rubbing against your clothing make them hurt?

Liam: I want to see them. Your cute, pointy, and rosy nipples.

Liam: … Can I strip you?

Without waiting for my answer, he undid the ribbons at the back of my blouse, causing it to fall off my shoulders and onto my stomach.

It felt embarrassing to have only my underwear on, and Liam’s hands forcefully pulled them down.

(...!)

Liam: There, I can see it all now. Your nipples are so cute, Kate… so, so, cute.

Liam: They’re so red, it's like they’re asking me to touch them more.

Liam gently grabbed my exposed breasts, holding them and pinching my red and pointy nipples.

Kate: Nn.. ahh…

— And I saw my reflection in the window in front of me.

I watched Liam kneading my breasts, my facial expression nowhere near calm.

(No, this is too embarrassing…)

Kate: Hey, Liam. This… spot is…

Liam: Right? Isn’t it so shameful to be able to see everything?

Kate: Are you doing this on purpose— ahh…

Still toying with my breasts, Liam’s experienced hand swiftly removed my shorts.

While holding me from behind, he spread my legs wide open.

Kate: Ah… Liam. Everything’s… on show…

Liam: Mm-hmm. I want you to see it all. Look at who it is that always makes you feel good over here.

Liam grabbed my embarrassed face by the chin with one hand, slipping his other hand between my legs.

Liam: Aha, you’re so wet already. I’ll make you even wetter.

Kate: Ahh…nn…

Obscene wet noises filled the room as he moved his fingers inside me.

Liam: No. Don’t look away. I want you to watch me turn you into a complete mess.

Through my reflection in the window, I watched as Liam stimulated my sensitive buds and torturing the wet spot between my legs.

Kate: Haa…

Liam: You’re so cute… you’re about to cum, aren't you? I’d love for you to cum right now, but…

Liam: I’m… at my limit too.

Liam pulled his fingers away before lifting me from his lap and laying me down on the bed.

He then took off his pants and underwear slowly like he was putting on a show for me.

Liam: Kate, I want you to put my dick inside you by yourself.

*yes i hath given up on cybird let’s spice things up ourselves, shall we? let us say dick !

Kate: M- Myself…?

Liam: Yes. You’re already making me so sore… please.

The shame was making me feel dizzy, and yet it was me who said that I would accept everything Liam wanted to do to me.

I pushed my embarrassment aside and lifted my hips, positioning Liam’s hot and hard dick against my wet entrance.

(I’m so embarrassed it’s driving me nuts…)

Even the slightest movements created lewd wet noises.

Liam: Haa… look at you spreading your legs and craving me. You’re so naughty and cute.

Kate: Nn…

Liam: I can’t wait any longer. … Let me help.

Liam slowly pushed himself into me, gripping onto my waist.

Kate: Ahh…

The strong surge in pleasure made me reflexively buck my hips, rubbing myself against him.

(This feels so good… I’m losing my mind…)

Liam tightened his grip on my waist as I writhed in pleasure.

— As if to say he was never going to let me go.

Liam: I can’t get enough of seeing you look up at me from below, Kate. I want you to feel even better with me inside you…

Liam pinned me down and mercilessly rubbed my wet spot.

He squeezed and teased the tips of my breasts while thrusting into me.

Kate: Ahh… Liam… this feels… good…

Liam: Haa… I feel good too… so good

Liam frowned as he stroked the area on my abdomen below my navel.

Liam: Hey, Kate…

Liam: How many times do I have to fuck you for “this place” to remember me?

Kate: Huh…?

Liam: I want this place to remember me, and only let me be inside it…

Liam’s love was — heavy.

But that was what I loved about him.

Liam: Whenever our bodies become one like this, I wonder why we’re two separate individuals.

Liam: … It makes me feel frustrated sometimes.

Liam: I get anxious when we’re apart, because our hearts are in different places. I can’t stop thinking about you.

Liam: And yet…

Liam: Because we’re different people… we can love each other like this.

Liam: I love the frustration, sorrow, and all that happens between us. Everything.

My heart was so moved by Liam’s intense and genuine love, I couldn't help embracing him in my arms.

Kate: … I love you too, Liam.

Liam smiled happily and thrust into me again, pulling me into a whirlpool of pleasure.

I was sure that tonight — our bodies would never be apart.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story sale #liam evans

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [15]

chapter fifteen, act two: anobrain

masterlist

November 3rd 2013

Tommie truly feels like Stevie Nicks in this moment as she sings lyrics of songs she and Matty had written together, glancing at him from time to time.

Of course, she was not much of a Queen like Stevie herself and didn’t have the energy she had during the whole Silver Springs fiasco.

She had however, given several dirty looks to Matty everytime he tried to approach her on stage, and had gone back to hiding behind Ross in the shadows.

Usually, to try and cheer her up and lessen the anxiety she felt Matty would come over during songs and distract her as she played. Maybe he’d share a dance with her during a break in the song, play with her hair, lean his head on hers as they sang a part together.

But today, everytime he approached her, to the delight of the crowd who cheered a little louder as they had grown to love those little special moments of the shows. She shook her head.

At the end of the show Matty had tried going after her as she moved quickly off the stage, but George had suggested he stay back and distract Adam so he wouldn’t worry.

George had panicked when she wasn’t hiding away in her usual spots, but he had quickly found her when he realised her jacket (and his own packet of cigarettes from his jacket)had disappeared.

“For Christmas I’m gonna bulk buy you a bunch of cigarette packs so you stop stealing everyones.” He tells her as he approaches.

She’s stuck in her head, rethinking the past couple of days over and over. The night with Matty, the conversation this morning, everything. 

“Tom?”

“Hmm?”

He holds a hand out and clicks his fingers a little, she shakes her head then starts patting herself down until she finds his pack handing them over to him.

“I-”

“Forgot yours, yeah, you always do.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugs, lighting the cigarette hanging from his mouth and leaning on the railing beside her. He eyes her sceptically for her apology, usually he receives a snark response, ‘sharing is caring’, ‘what's yours is mine’, yet today the one word is muttered, and is muttered so quietly his concern returns. “You alright?”

“Hmm?” She looks up, hands hanging down over the railing with the cigarette between her fingers, “Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

She glances at him, preparing her little lie but one glance and she knows she can’t go through with it.

“Don’t say nothing,” He tells her, “Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

Tommie doesn’t say anything to him, she just stares at the floor for a few moments. Instead of focusing on one anxiety, she brings up another, which probably isn’t a good idea with the current head space she’s in.

“I’m just… tired,” She tells him quietly, “And… scared.”

“Scared?”

She nods a little, “Been thinking a lot lately.”

He fakes a dramatic wince and raises his brows, “That must hurt.”

George smiles when he sees her lips twitch a little bit. “Funny.”

“Think I’m in the wrong career,” He tells her, “Should’ve done stand up, could’ve joined Tim on Benidorm or sumat.”

“Yeah, would’ve watched you on all the shitty UK panel shows that are weirdly always hosted by, like, Jimmy Carr or James Corden.”

He hums in agreement then gets back on track, “So, what’re you scared about?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Come on, Tom, you know I have weird fears- I mean, nothing as weird as birds, that’s a stupid fea-”

“They’re scary things okay!” She jumps to defend herself, “They could fuckign peck your eyes out G, how you gonna play the drums blind, huh?”

“Well, I’m sure it's been done, by like.. Fuckign Hellen Keller or someone like that.”

“And why do they fly?” She continues on, “It’s fucking strange, they’re fucking strange. It’s a valid fear.”

He raises his hands and steps back with playful eyebrows raised, “Well, I can guarantee whatever you're scared of isn’t as stupid as birds.” She shoots him another glare.

“I’m scared something bad will happen soon, with us, the band… like,” She sighs running her hands through her hair, when the cigarette catches George is quick to take if from her hand so she doesn’t singe her hair, “I don’t know, G, and that’s what’s fucking my head up.”

They stay in silence for a while, George doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. A trait that she wishes Matty has for those situations where he should just keep his mouth shut.

The silence stretches until Ross lets them both know that their uber has arrived to take them out for drinks.

She sighs, “I’m gonna head back,” She tells George but he loops his arm through hers shaking his head, “G, I won’t be able to get in anywhere.”

“Come on, we’re famous.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Come on, we’re famous.” Tommie repeats bitterly as they walk away from the fifth place that has turned them away in the last hour.

She sighs looking back at the group, most moody and annoyed at the walking then to George who’s skipping ahead, “Another one up here, Irish bar, bound to let us in, come on.”

She sighs tugging his hand so he’ll stop, “I’m just,” She glances back again, eyes drifting over Matty who stands with his hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at her, “Gonna head back, I don’t fancy drinks anyway.”

“Okay, we’ll walk you back-”

“G, it’s fine.”

“You’re not walking through Vegas at eleven on your own.” Adam says sternly.

“Tommie?”

She turns quickly, lips curving a little, “Hey, Caleb, what are you doing out here? Got a gig?”

He goes to hug her, arms lifting, but she stands completely oblivious and unmoving causing him to awkwardly act as if he was trying to lean on the fire hydrant beside her, “Um no, no, me and the band, we moved out to California, it’s Micthell, the guitarist, remember him?” He questions, she nods (she doesn’t remember him), “His brother’s bachelor party tomorrow night.”

“Oh cool, that’s uh, your version of a stag do, right?”

“Assuming that’s the party of the groom?”

She nods and he grins nodding back, he glances round the band passing smiles around, “Hey, ya’ll.”

The five of them cringe at the same time, Matty muttering something under his breath receiving a nudge and a quiet hidden snort from Ross.

“So, you guys had a gig?”

“Hard Rock Casino.” Matty butts in before she can open her mouth.

His smile widens, “Really? Supposed to be great in there, that’s where we're going tomorrow night.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, “Where are you headed?”

“Uh, these guys are gonna go bar hopping and I was just on my way back to the hotel now.”

“Cool, cool, shall I walk you? Wouldn’t want you wandering around alone at night.”

She glances back at the four, they’re all watching lined up in a row, all shaking their heads but she smiles at him, “That’d be great, thank you.”

“Tom-” Adam tries to protest but she smiles at him.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning, alright? Don’t get too drunk, show tomorrow.”

She gives them no time to argue and turns around with Caleb in tow.

As they walk, and he talks about his band and how they’re doing, she sneaks glances at him and takes him in.

He’s the complete opposite of every guy she has ever had a crush on.

Which has only been three people (excluding Alex Turner and Jenson Button).

The first guy was in primary school, he had this horrible bowl cut with dark brown eyes and equally dark brown hair.

The second was in comp when she was in year 10, he was taller than her, much taller than her by almost an entire foot. He played rugby, took ICT and PE as his GCSE’s and had, you guessed it, brown eyes and hair. Only he had this horrible mullet haircut that she weirdly found attractive. The moment he cut it off for a buzz cut half way through the school year the crush was gone.

The third guy was when she was younger, and well, it was Matty. The more she thinks of that one the more she realises it never really went away.

Caleb is completely different.

He has blonde hair that's slicked back, not like a sexy Alex Turner kind of slicked back, more like old mafia American movies kind of slicked back. But it looks good on him, his face is a wider, square shape and he has some darker stubble with larger eyebrows and brown eyes.

He’s not short, but he’s not exactly tall either, probably a few inches shorter than Matty.

He’s dressed differently to his vest and jean shorts she first saw him in, he has a tank top with a striped shirt over it and a pair of blue jeans.

“You had food? Was gonna pick some up for my friends and I, if you’re hungry we can make a stop. On me.”

“I am not one to turn down free food.”

“Tastes better free, right?”

She nods and thanks him as he holds the door open of some shitty 24 hour diner.

They sit at the back by a window and order, he has a burger and a strawberry milkshake, asking for two straws, she asks for just a plate of chips, to which the woman looks at her weirdly and she then clarifies by saying ‘fries’, with a dr pepper.

When food comes and they’re tucking in, she starts asking about the band, and how they’ve been doing since he saw her a few months back.

She tells him about the tour, and the festivals, going into too much detail of the Arctic Monkeys gig, he doesn't seem to mind, he happily sips from one straw of the milkshake and nods in encouragement. 

“Where are you guys going tomorrow?”

“Tucson, then flying to Spain on the fifth.”

“The fifth?”

She nods and he mutters a quiet, “Damn.”

“What?”

“Was going to ask if you wanted to maybe get dinner, like, actual dinner, with me. You know, on a date.”

She looks down, “Is this not good enough to be a date?”

He shrugs, “I like to treat girls a little better than a dingy, greasy diner.”

Just as he says it the waitress walks by and pauses to cast a glare over her shoulder making Tommie lean back and quietly laugh into her hand.

He purses his lips and sends one of his charming smiles over to her, “Don’t order anything else, they’re gonna spit in it.”

“I’ll be sure not to.” She says, lifting the bottled dr pepper to her lips.

“So,” She then goes on to say, “If this were to be a date, and I, theoretically-”

“Of course, theoretically.”

“Agreed, what would we do?”

He thinks for a moment, “You strike me as the adventurous type.”

She’s not. She likes comfort and staying in her little self created box.

“First, I’d take you to see a gig of some shitty underground band-”

“Dirty Delights?” She questions and he fights back the smile at the sight of her own teasing smile, “Heard they’re pretty shit,” She shrugs, “Couldn’t even get drunk frat boys to join in.”

“I know, and I heard the drummer is a grade A asshole, he is also very attracted to this guitarist from that band. 1975, heard of them?”

“Oh yeah.” She nods, “They’re the talk of the music industry, next Fleetwood Mac.”

His teasing smile turns serious, “I think you could be.”

“What?” She pops another chip in her mouth and chews as he tilts his head.

“Be the next Fleetwood Mac.”

She snorts and drops the half bitten chip to lean back against the booth, he smiles bigger, “I mean it, you could be. You and Matt up there. Chaining each other up.”

“Oh my God, that is like the worst saying I’ve ever heard.” She giggles.

He smiles at the sound she makes, “What? It's been said.”

“By who, a serial killer?”

He raises a brow at her but doesn't comment, “Okay, back to it. We’d go to a gig, listen to some music, dress way too over the top for the back alley bar we’d be at.”

“Back alley?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the creeps.”

“Hope so. But I warn you, I’ve got a very harsh right hook.”

He nods quickly, “Noted. I’ll make sure I’m never on the receiving end.”

“Then,” He carries on, “We’ll make use of our fancy outfits. Go to a nice restaurant, have a seat out on the balcony, you’ll make a comment about the stars- you seem the type- and I’ll ask about you. I’ll pretend to listen but I’ll actually be staring at you cause you,” He pauses and watches her cheeks tinge red, “You’re just so pretty in the moonlight.”

“What then?” She presses on.

“I’ll walk you back to your hotel, you’ll invite me up but I’ll tell you about my no kissing on the first date rule, you’ll ask me how many dates is okay for a kiss, I tell you at least five and you roll your eyes. It's not what I believe, I just say it so I’ll get to see you more.”

“And… happily ever after?” She questions.

He nods, “Happily ever after.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll take you up on it.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe.” She agrees as she stands and grabs her jacket, “Now, walk me back so I can invite you up.”

She sighs as he follows her out, a fake sigh as a smile stretches on his lips when he turns to nod at the hotel behind her, brows raising suggestively. “Afraid to say it, ma’am, don’t kiss women on the first date.”

She hums, “Guess you’ll have to take me on another.”

“Florida.” He says suddenly, his hands now in his pockets as they walk side by side.

“Hm?”

“The Big Ticket festival,” He clarifies, “We’re playing, You going to be there?”

She nods, “December?” He tells her ‘yes’, “Yeah, we’re going, I convinced the guys we need to go to Disney World.”

He nods, “Then,” He pauses opening up the hotel door for her, “That’s our first date.”

She turns to the lift but can just see it's open with a few people inside and jogs a little to get there faster, “Hold the door.”

Ross perks up, smiling lazily with his head poking out, “Tommie!”

She smiles at the four guys packed inside the lift, “Thanks guys, uh,” She turns back around to Caleb who’s passed a wave to them over her shoulder.

Matty raises a brow at him when Tommie’s not looking and turns his nose up in disgust.

“So.. Florida?”

She nods, “See you then.”

“Thirty five days,” He tells her, “I’ll count them down.”

“Surprised he can count after that awful count-in that he did back in Texas.”

George nudges Matty to shut up and Caleb looks up at him again, Tommie smiles, the muttering having gone unheard and as she goes to turn around ready to step inside but Caleb gently touches her hand for her attention.

“Think I might want to break my rule.”

“I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

He smiles and closes his eyes, leaning to place a simple peck on her lips, “Florida.” He says against them before walking backwards.

She stands there awkwardly only moving once he’s completely disappeared to step inside the lift.

The doors close slowly, no one says a thing.

“Ooh, Florida…” George says in an American accent as he grips Ross' face, “I’ll see you in Florida, my little alligator Queen.”

“Break your rule, Georgia boy, kiss me.” Ross says in a high pitched voice as they both start making kissing sounds at each other's hands holding each other's faces.

Adam giggles loudly, unable to stop and Matty stands there silently.

“Designated sober friend?”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods, “I’ll take Adam and George.”

“Adam’s bunking with me.” He says simply and she nods.

“Okay, uh, Ross is with John, right?” He nods again, “John’s beside me so, I’ll take them both.”

“I can handle my friends, Tommie.”

She nods, “Yeah, you’ve made that very clear.”

“Doesn’t seem to have bothered you much.” He comments, gaze still forward as she tries to untangle Ross’ hand from pulling on George’s hair.

The door opens and she ushers Ross and George, who are still hanging over each other, out into the hallway, like some kind of tired single mother.

She watches Matty and Adam head down the opposite way, Adam’s arms wrapped around Matty’s waist, his head on his shoulder.

Matty looks up as he opens the door, peeling a clingy Adam from him, his eyes catch hers and she pauses in the doorway.

“Goodnight, Matty.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart

@indierockgirrl

@sofaritsalrightt

@julezs-bl0g

@eaglestar31

@sophinthealpss

@if-my-heart-bleeds

@befrwime

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #matty healy imagine #the 1975 x oc

[curvingsunsets]

Could I get an Eddie Munson x male reader please? So Eddie has a deaf/hard-of-hearing boyfriend, he learned sign in like a month so he could ask him out (even tho bf could read lips, he wanted to make the effort) and he tells the Hellfire club about him. When he mentions taking him to his bands gigs they’re like ‘?? Why?? He can’t hear you play??’ & Ed explains that even tho he can’t hear the music he can still ‘listen’ by putting his hand on the speakers and feeling it. I just find it adorable to imagine this metalhead asking out a boy in broken sign and being able to say cute things to each other in public w it cuz so few people in Hawkins would understand it and getting to see his cute bf sit right next to a blaring speaker without flinching.

Feel The Music

Eddie Munson x Male! Reader

A/N: Oh yes i can 😎 i hope that this does your request justice 🙏🏻

It was a pretty average Thursday, the Hellfire Club bickering about something at the lunch table. Eddie didn’t bother listening, trying so desperately to memorize the pictures on the page in front of him.

“Eddie,” Dustin waved his hand in front of the boy. “Dude, I’ve literally never seen you study this hard it’s making me worry.”

Eddie slams his hands down on the table in frustration. “Goddamn sign language just be fucking easier!”

Mike and Gareth give the boy a confused look. “Sign language?” Mike asks, stealing the paper. “Why are you learning sign language?”

Eddie snatches the paper back quickly. “Because, Wheeler. There’s someone in my Study Hall who’s deaf. And, yeah he can read lips or whatever, but…” he trails off for a moment. “I wanna make him feel a bit less alone, I guess?”

The group nods, knowing that he had his eyes on someone for a little while now. They were honestly just proud of him for taking the first step.

Gareth takes a look at the page. “And you’re sure that you’ve got the right signs?” he asks, causing Jeff to nudge him.

Mike shakes his head. “I think it’s super cool that he’s even trying. That’s more than you’d do, man!”

Eddie ignores the groups bickering, going back to learning the phrases on the page.

—

Study Hall rolls around once again, you were already sat at your desk catching yourself up on an English assignment.

You’re taken away from your work when you feel a tap at the edge of you desk. You look up to see Eddie, nervously rocking back and forth between his feet. You wave up at him.

He waves back, peeking down at the piece of paper in his hands before tucking it in his pocket. He wipes his hands off on his shirt before starting to sign something. It takes until he fully finishes poorly signing what he wanted to say for you to understand.

“Are you…are you trying to invite me to something?” you ask, a soft smile growing on your cheeks.

“Is it that bad?” he asks sheepishly.

You shrug as he takes a seat at the desk next to yours. “I’ve seen worse.”

He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed at his failure. “Yknow, that took me three weeks to figure out,” he explains.

You let out a laugh. “What are you trying to invite me to?”

“Oh I haven’t even told you yet! My band, Corroded Coffin, has a show Tuesday night. I thought…maybe you’d like to come?”

You look at him confused. “Eddie?”

He shakes his head. “It was a silly request, I know, but you can say no and we can totally drop it I understand.”

“No, it’s just..I’m not gonna be able to hear it.”

His eyes shimmer after that. “I know you can’t actually hear it, but I figured you could come and sit in this booth right next to the stage. It’s got a speaker right next to it..a-and you can put your hand on it and feel the music instead!”

His excitement and generosity make you feel warm inside. It wasn’t usual for you to be met with so much accommodation. You nod your head. “I’ll be there.”

He claps happily, cheering to himself. “You won’t regret it I promise.”

—

Tuesday night rolled around quickly. Eddie offered to pick you up, gifting you one of his rings to wear along with a chain incase it was too big on your fingers. The ride was nice, Eddie telling you what to expect.

When you both arrived, you found the booth easily, Eddie letting you sit down right next to the speaker.

It wasn’t long before it was time for Corroded Coffin to start their set. He stood up to run onstage, but before he left, he caught your attention.

“This one’s for you, Sweetness,” he signed nearly perfect, clear he’d been practicing it for a long time.

The gesture gives you butterflies, excited to watch the band perform. After setting up, Eddie pointed over to the speaker. “You’re gonna love this!” he signed.

You place your hand right over the speaker, the soft vibrations only growing as the song started. It only got better from there, the interesting rhythm drawing you in. It would’ve been the best part if it weren’t for Eddie’s pure enjoyment of playing the music. You noticed him gaze over at you, getting somehow even more energetic at the sight of you banging your head along to the song.

The set eventually dies down, Eddie practically jumping off the stage to come back to you. “What’d you think?” he asks, scanning your face for an indicator of your feelings.

You nod happily. “Best music I’ve ever felt,” you tell him happily. Your heart flutters as you watch him celebrate a successful show. You laugh at him tousling his hair around and drumming on the table along with the next act.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x you

[scented-morker]

Sypnosis. As the schools biggest thespian, you were rightfully pissed off when you found out Jungwon- the bane of your existence- was going to be trying out for the spring production. Even worse, he gets cast as your love interest!

Genre. High school au, drama club au, one sided enemies to lovers, purely fluff and humor there’s no speckle of angst in this at all. They’re performing Anastasia

Feat. Theatre kid yn x Jungwon, fem!reader, Bff Sunoo, mention of itzy Chaeryeong and wooah minseo

Warnings. Sunoo and yn are the Sharpay and Ryan of the school, I don’t think there’s any cursing or anything, there’s a few kisses (just pecks) yn drinks coffee that looks like milk, you might not like her in the beginning

wc. 4054

Spring was your favorite season- the birds chirping, the flowers blooming, and of course, the spring drama production.

This was a constant in your life. Every year, during the first week of March, a sign up sheet would be posted. You’d sign your name in a pink glitter pen, right next to your best friend’s. The next week auditions would be held, and Friday morning the cast list would be posted, your and Sunoo’s names at the top claiming the leads.

But there’s a new name on the sign up this time, and you almost drop your glitter gel pen when you read it.

“Yang Jungwon.” You storm into class.

The said boy looks up from his desk where he was messing around with Riki.

“How can I help you today y/n?” He asks with a cocky grin.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe start with taking your name off my musical sign up,” you huff, and Jungwon and Riki share a look that you can’t exactly read.

Getting up from his seat, Jungwon approaches you.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because I already have to deal with you enough, and now you’re invading my home on the stage.”

“Your home on the stage? Y/n honey, are you feeling threatened?”

“Jungwon you’ve never acted a day in your life. I’m not worried.”

“Then it shouldn’t be an issue, now should it?”

You glare at him, huffing out a “fine” and dropping into your seat, the one unfortunately right next to his.

It’s not like he would pass his audition anyway.

“You ready to claim the main lead?” Sunoo asked when you stepped into his car the morning cast sheets went up.

“Obviously, and ready to rub it in Jungwon’s face when he gets cut,” you smile evilly, and Sunoo looks at you strangely.

“I actually heard he did really well on his audition. Maybe you should give him a chance.”

You stare at your best friend like he had just proposed you dye your eyebrows pink.

“Sunoo you can’t be serious! It’s- he’s Jungwon!”

“Oh come on, it’s not like he would go through all this trouble if he didn’t actually want to be a part of it. I think he’d actually make a good cast member.”

“It’s not about that!”

“Then what’s it about?”

“That he’s Jungwon!!”

He looks over at you from where he’d stopped at a red light, one that says “you are crazy and your weird thing with Jungwon is too.”

You just roll your eyes, angling your knees away from him and staying quiet for the rest of the ride. Sunoo knew you weren’t mad at him, and a peek at your face showed you were deep in thought.

Why was being Jungwon a deal breaker? What had he done to make you so exasperated at even the thought of him?

‘He was annoying, and tried to steal your play,’ you think. That was it.

“Hello pretty girl,” Jungwon greets when you enter the building with Sunoo, “oh come on don’t ignore me.”

“Hello to you too Jungwon,” Sunoo grins at him, but upon the disappointed look on the younger boy's face he quickly exits the conversation. “No? Okay. Well, I’m gonna go check if the list is up. Have fun lovebirds!”

You try to chase him down, but he’s gone before you process what he said, and Jungwon is right next to you.

“Are you excited? Apparently people think you’re going to snag Anastasia.”

“I always get lead. Me and Sunoo. It’s something you would know if you knew anything about the theater program you were impulsively joining.”

“I knew, just not for that reason,” he mumbles.

He knew because he’d checked the cast list for your name every show. He knew because he was the one who’d left a pastry on your desk the one time Wonyoung had beat you out for Snow White.

“What?”

“I said ‘on your shoe, you dropped a raisin.’”

You look down at your shoe and then back at his face in pure confusion.

“Wha-”

He doesn’t let you question him, screeching to a halt so fast you run into his chest and drop your book.

“What is wrong with you?” You question him, but he just points to the wall.

“Cast list.”

You don’t respond, immediately running to the sheet and checking the top name.

Anastasia - Y/n L/n

“Hah! See Jungwon, as always, me and Sunoo!”

“You might want to check again actually.”

You hadn’t realized that Sunoo was standing next to you, also looking at the sheet.

“What?”

Turning back to look at the sheet again, you let out an audible gasp.

Dimitri - Yang Jungwon

Sunoo had been casted as the creepy villain, and while he didn’t seem to mind you were more than upset enough for both of you.

“But. No! You always get it Sunoo! They’re just gonna let some rando come in and take the lead? No way!”

Sunoo rolls his eyes at you.

“It’s not that deep babe.”

And with that he approaches Jungwon, telling him congratulations.

“For what?”

“You got the male lead.”

“What?!”

You’d never seen Jungwon look so terrified in his entire life.

You let out a giggle at it, quickly opening your phone and snapping a picture. Jungwon, mouth open and eyes the size of saucers stared back at you from the screen.

You laughed once more to yourself before turning away, ready to grab your dropped books and head to class.

This was the same time Jungwon chose to recover, you assume, because when you reach down to pick up your science textbook his hand is already there.

He quickly grabs it, holding it over his head while you try and steal it back.

“Jungwon, I swear!”

“Swear what?”

You jump up to try and reach, accidentally losing balance and falling into his chest.

You expect him to jump away from you, but he just drops one arm around your waist to steady you on your feet, sending you a smile you dare to call… fond?

“Is this your way of congratulating me?” His smile turns into more of a smirk, and you use his cockiness to your advantage, reaching up and grabbing your book from his hand and backing away from him quickly.

“Break a leg Wonnie,” you make your words extra sugary sweet, “I mean it.”

And with that you walk to your class, a proud smirk on your lips and an annoying blush on your cheeks.

Unbeknownst to you Jungwon was standing there looking similarly, shaking his head as you walked away, the tips of his ears bright red.

“I just can’t believe it Sunoo, you were perfect for Dimitri! Director Jin must have gone psycho!”

“I’m actually really excited to play the villain! Get some diversity in my resume you know? Colleges don’t want to see that I can just play the goody character, it’ll add some spice!”

You smile at your best friend, glad he’s taking the casting decision better than you were.

“Now I suggest you get over yourself because rehearsals start this week and you need to not murder our male lead.”

“If I did, would you get his part?”

“Yn,” he gives a warning tone.

“Kidding, I was totally kidding!”

However, the next day you’re questioning if you really were kidding, because practice hasn’t even started and Jungwon is already being Jungwon.

“Now are you going to give me your murder eyes onstage too? Because that might put a damper on the romance.”

“There is no romance.” You huff, creating more distance between the two of you.

“That’s not what the kiss scene at the end says,” he singsongs, moving closer to you and making a kissy face.

“Oh get out,” you cringe, putting your hand up in front of his lips.

He goes to say something else, but your director interrupts him, bringing a start to practice.

“Now Jungwon, we’re going to do a read through. Just try to get into character. Say it how you think Dimitri would,” he explains to the new cast mate, gesturing to you after receiving a nod. “Take it away yn.”

You’re pleasantly surprised at Jungwon’s read through, you found yourself getting lost in the characters and story, to the point that when practice was over you were able to talk to your new scene partner without slinging insults.

“That was actually pretty good, congrats on not being awful, at least not entirely.”

Okay so it wasn’t the nicest compliment, but it was a lot better than what you normally would say to Jungwon.

“What a nice compliment from the princess herself,” he says, and you assume the new nickname is due to your role as the last Romonav.

It still has you cursing the stupid butterflies in your stomach.

He watches you speed walk away as soon as he says it and for a minute he’s afraid he made you uncomfortable, but when you turn to say something to Sunoo he sees the tips of your ears red.

Did he do that? He questions himself, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Jungwon almost jumps backwards when Sunoo appears out of nowhere, giving him a raised eyebrow with a hand on his hip.

“What’s your deal?” He questions, and Jungwon doesn’t know how to respond.

“Can you be more specific?”

“I mean about the fact that you and yn are supposed to hate each other and you’re over here flirting with her.”

True.

“That is so not true! I hate yn! I don’t like yn! I’ve never once had a secret crush on her! The last three years I-”

Jungwon slaps his hand over his mouth, having no idea what he just said but knowing that Sunoo saw right through him.

“Shit I have to go,” then he looped back, “please don’t tell her.”

The next morning your friend is extra cheeky when you get in his front seat.

“Sunoo, do you think Jungwon has actually been a good actor this whole time?”

Truthfully, you were wondering why he hadn’t joined the drama club earlier. Even more truthfully, you were worried it was your fault.

“I think this role is just really good for him. He seems like a method actor.” Sunoo laughs to himself while you stare at him.

“I think you might be too, why do you sound so creepy right now?”

Your best friend smacks your shoulder, and the two of you bicker the rest of the way to school.

Jungwon is by the door when you enter, and he takes note of the way you jokingly bicker with Sunoo, not missing the way you immediately stop and avoid eye contact when you see him.

“Bro, did you tell her?” He interrogates Sunoo as soon as you walk away, to which the boy just looks at him in disgust.

“Okay first of all, never call me bro ever again, and no I didn’t. Even if I had, she's too blind to believe me.”

“Blind hatred,” Jungwon mutters, and Sunoo just sighs before walking away.

“Maybe she’s not the only one.”

Jungwon enters your class right before the bell rings, and you can’t help but feel disappointed that he doesn’t utter a word to you, not even a snarky comment about the milk colored coffee you were drinking.

Jungwon always made a joke about your pale coffee.

He doesn’t talk to you the whole day, even as practice starts later in the day.

“You should be happy” you think, you’ve been telling Jungwon to leave you alone the whole year.

So why does it feel so wrong?

You hold your script in your left hand, trying to ignore the fact that you’re supposed to hug Jungwon in a few seconds.

“ANYA” you hear him yell his line and you know he’s coming.

“Anya, Anya, wake up” he picks you up, telling you to wake up before pulling you into a hug after you say your line.

“Okay cut,” you stare off the stage at your director, disappointment in his eyes.

“I’m gonna be honest. That was bad.”

Neither one of you knows how to respond to that, so you just keep listening.

“Anastasia and Dimitri are one of the best animated couples in history. You two look like wooden dolls doing what the script says. We’re doing Anastasia, not Pinocchio. I need you to be real boys.”

He dismisses the two of you, with homework to “go on a date, hang out, punch each other in the face. I don't care, I just need emotion the next time you do a scene.”

“Sunoo, you’re up. Scene two.”

Sunoo is still laughing when he passes you to get to the stage, and you whack him in the back of the head as you exit.

“Go on a date,” he winks at the two of you, still cackling as he enters the stage.

“Excellent Sunoo this is the crazed maniac I like to see!”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as Jin praises your friend for his excellent portrayal of his character when he’s actually just laughing at your misfortune.

“So should we go do something?” Jungwon asks once you two finish packing your things.

“What?”

“Like go on a date to make our chemistry better?”

You stare at him in shock. The boy who’s been teasing you mercilessly for the last two years is asking to go on a date for the sake of a high school drama production.

He is quite the dedicated actor, you decide.

“Yeah sure, I’m hungry anyway. Do you want to go to that bakery around the block?”

“Sure!” If he tried to control his enthusiasm it didn’t work, and you hide the smile threatening to spill onto your lips at his excited answer.

He probably just really likes sweets.

You make small talk on the walk over, feeling more comfortable with Jungwon talking to you again. Neither one of you even sling one insult in the whole five minutes it took you to get there, which might be a record.

You can’t help but let out a laugh when he opens the door to the bakery and then tries to close it before you can walk in.

This is what it’s supposed to be like.

“Oh yn is ordering her milk,” he teases when you order your too light coffee to go with your cupcake.

“I was waiting for that one,” you smile as he places his order, “this morning you didn’t say anything. I thought maybe you just woke up with better taste.”

Jungwon pays for both of you, even though you tell him not to.

“Come on, it’s for the play! Dimitri would buy both his and Anya’s snacks.”

“Dimitri would probably steal the snacks rather than pay for either one of them,” you correct.

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but it’s too late now.” He shrugs, and you once again find yourself trying to remember why you hated him so much.

The two of you take a seat at one of the small tables once your order is called out, and Jungwon launches into a long monologue about how you were boring to not only get milk colored coffee but also a boring strawberry cupcake.

You smile as he finishes his rampage.

“Cute.”

“What?” He looks at you in pure confusion.

“The cupcake is cute.”

He rolls his eyes at your reasoning but lets it go anyway, and you’re glad he didn’t take too close of a look at your face when you said it.

You cut him off midway through another speech, this time about your home room teacher, blurting out the question you’ve been thinking about for the last few weeks.

“Why do we hate each other?”

He doesn’t even seem mad that you interrupted him, he just stops and contemplates the question.

“I know in middle school I always bugged you and your friends, so you probably already didn’t like me when we hit high school.”

“Oh I remember that!” you laugh. “You always weasled your way into out lunch table because you had a crush on Minseo.”

That makes the boy in front of you frown.

“What?”

“I had a crush on you.”

He states it so plainly that you can’t help but cough a little on your coffee.

“WHat? But- but you got her chocolates for Valentine’s day!”

“I got them for you but heard Sunoo telling one of the other guys that you don't like chocolate so I didn’t want to give it to you, and Minseo looked like she had a rough day so I gave them to her instead.”

You stare at him dumbfounded for a few minutes, blinking confusedly. You felt like everything you remembered was now shifted to the left two inches, and your brain was lagging to keep up.

“Wha-what?” you kept sputtering, and Jungwon couldn’t help but be confused. He thought you knew he had a crush on you. He was pretty sure everyone else did.

“Sorry to break your brain like that on our first date, I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe Sunoo was right,” he mutters to himself, and you’re still too out of it to ask him what he said.

Instead of figuring out something else to say, you do the only thing you can think of, which is shove the rest of your cupcake into your mouth in one bite.

Jungwon stares in bewilderment while you chew, mumbling things that don’t sound like words and giving him thumbs up.

He takes a bite of his own pastry, trying to figure out how he was going to explain to Sunoo why you were being returned to him glitching.

When you’ve finally finished your bite and washed it down with a sip of your coffee, you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, although it quickly catches in your throat when Jungwon cups your face with one of his hands, his thumb stroking over your lips while your face erupts in flames.

“Sorry, you had frosting on your mouth, I should have just-” but he stops apologizing when he sees how flustered you were by his actions.

There was no way you- You didn’t like him. You were never going to like him back.

So why were you staring at him like that?

“Um,” he wanted to tease you for your reaction, but he couldn’t think of anything. “Uh I don’t know why we hate each other.”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t hate you.” You clarify, and the boy’s dimples make a full appearance.

“I don’t hate you either.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Jin was happy with the progression of your chemistry, and told you to keep doing whatever it was that you did. And who were you to argue with the director?

So you and Jungwon kept hanging out at the bakery, and then at the arcade, and then at your house. Heck, he came over for family game night.

By the time opening night came around you were 100% sure that you did not hate Yang Jungwon.

Except you were also 100% sure that you may have a little tiny (read: giant, huge, massive) crush on Yang Jungwon.

“Sunoo, I’m screwed!” You complained while the crew did your makeup.

“True.”

You turned to glare at your best friend, letting out a yelp when you saw him in his creepy villain get up.

“Hot I know.”

Jungwon chooses this moment to join the two of you, and you can’t help but stare at the way they styled him, slightly long hair parted down the middle, strands flopping over his eyebrows when he moved. A part of you wanted to brush it out of the way, but getting that close to him was not something you were sure you could handle.

“I agree, Sunoo. Rasputin was definitely a lady killer.” He jokes, before turning to you. “Get it? Because he actually killed the princesses?”

“Very funny Wonnie.” you deadpan, and Sunoo fights the urge to gag.

“Yes Wonie,” he mocks “you’re a real comedian. Murder is hilarious.”

“Okay, uh, anyway.”

“Jungwon, I think y/n needs to practice the last scene again, do you mind helping her out with that while I go get my costume?”

“Yeah, of course!”

His attention is fully on you before Sunoo even finishes talking, and the older boy rolls his eyes at how obvious and yet oblivious both of you were.

“The last scene? So that’s the-” kissing scene “-boat scene.”

“Uh yeah.. It’s just a lot of emotion without that many words and I’m a little nervous about portraying it.”

You were actually nervous about acting out those romantic scenes with Jungwon, but had decided on avoiding all thought about it until the last possible moment, until Sunoo ruined it.

“Yeah I get that, thankfully we have a pretty easy ending. After Chaeryeong reads the letter, we just have to look happy and remember the dance.”

You laugh, remembering how at the last dress rehearsal you’d gotten so nervous being close to Jungwon that you’d stomped on his foot during the short eight count.

“Easy for you, I have to hope you don’t drop me at the end of that dance!”

He laughs, but there’s a hidden seriousness in his voice when he speaks again.

“I promise I’ll catch you okay? No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

“Places in fifteen,” Jin’s voice cuts in through the backstage conversation, and you respond with a “thank you fifteen” before Jungwon helps you out of your chair.

It was go time.

Being a main character was exhausting. This was something you already knew, but this time was especially hard. There were barely any scenes where you weren’t on stage, and you were relaxing with Jungwon during that last one when he kept tensing up.

Assuming it was because he was tiring out, you rubbed soothing circles on his back, reassuring him that he was almost done.

“We’ve only got like four more scenes left. And Sunoo is gonna be so dramatic in the fight scenes that you won’t even realize you’re tired.”

“And then we have the last scene.”

“Hey I thought I was the one nervous about the boat scene! You can’t be too.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“The kissing scene.”

You inhale sharply. It was the thing you two had been dancing around and Jungwon said it bluntly.

“Yeah, we kiss in the scene, but there’s a whole bunch of other stuff too so it’s okay.”

He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him and looking into your eyes.

“Yn, I don’t want our first kiss to be fake.”

“Wha-”

“I also don’t want this stage kiss to be the last time I kiss you. Yn, I really like you. And I never said anything because I thought you hated me, but I thought if I joined the drama club we could get closer, and we did but I just- I don’t know. I really hope this doesn’t ruin our scenes if you don’t feel the same, but I thought maybe you did so-” he takes a deep breath, “Can I kiss you? Like for real?”

You listened patiently, letting him get all of his thoughts out before responding to anything. A smile bursted on your face, and you reached up to wrap your hands around his neck.

“Please do.”

Jungwon’s own smile makes an appearance, and you clash some teeth when you first lean in, because neither one of you can get them to go away.

“That didn’t go very well.”

“We can just keep trying,” you reassure, and Jungwon places another quick peck on your lips before your cue comes, the two of you separating and getting ready to enter.

“Let’s finish this, Princess.”

Bonus: when you do curtain call at the end of the show the two of you enter together since you’re the main characters, and while everyone claps at the end Jungwon dips you down and places a peck on your lips while all of his friends go nuts in the crowd because FINALLY

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen jungwon scenarios #enhypen oneshots #enhypen Jungwon oneshot #enhypen fluff #enhypen jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen jungwon fluff

[irlnumbuh3]

middle school sector v headcanons :P

- kuki forces everyone to go to every single school event :’) the dances, the field trips, everything.

- do they act annoyed? maybe. but do they end up having the most fun? maybe they have the best time

- hoagie likes to vlog for some reason LMFAOO he finds an old video camera in his garage and takes it everywhere with him

- they can be in class or at lunch or in the middle of exams, and he’ll take it out and zoom in on everyone

- he sneaks up on them and scares them for a reaction. one time wally knocked the camera out of his hands bc he was so scared and embarrassed LOOL

- it broke :( and he was sad even though he was able to save all the content on it

- so the group saved up some money to surprise him with a new and more modern one

(wally stole lunch money. abby and nigel would make dnd bets and win. kuki went around selling jewelry)

- he was the happiest boy ever :D

- abby still helps wally with his homework :)

- on the days she can’t, someone else will help and take her place. the group rotates

- kuki always forgets her locker combination or forgets which way to rotate it, causing the others to remember it and help her unlock it almost everyday😭<3

- even wally scribbled it down on his notebook to remember so when he gets the chance to, he can help her

- speaking of lockers, kuki will sneak notes or doodles into everyone’s lockers through the little gaps

- hoagie joins in and will try to sneak funny sticky notes into her locker with obscure drawings and jokes

- kuki knows about his crush on abby and convinces him to do something…

- he starts sneaking notes into abby’s locker

- they’re cheesy all of the time. and they’re anonymous because he’s still a wimp

- does this flatter abby? maybe. she looks forward to them every day even though they’re anonymous

- she doesn’t even tell the group about the little notes left for her because maybe they make her blush and maybe she wants to keep that to herself

- but kuki knows the truth fr

- nigel is student council president don’t even fight w me on this one

- they all help him prepare because he’s so picky about these things

- they all even make little posters to put around school “vote 4 nigel!”

- because he’s president, the group all gets an inside scoop in school events/rules

- he acts annoyed because he’s supposed to be “responsible” and the group shouldn’t even know about certain things

- but he still tells them because at the end of the day, he gets excited about it. he likes hearing wally try to argue that as president, he should ban homework weekly LOL

- kuki is a theatre girl. always auditioning for every shop, concert, and event

- hoagie will join her time to time. they do shows together :)

- nigel and abby are stage crew/tech for the show

- they pressure wally into doing it with them a few times. he thinks it’s stupid

- well he thinks it’s stupid until he gets to watch kuki perform from the sidelines

- he misses his cues bc of this LMFAOO

- he also thinks the all black apparel in stage crew is badass 😭😭

- yeah this kind of pushes him into his grunge phase in highschool

- he’ll steal props and things backstage because he thinks it’s funny

- nigel catches him and is like wtf i’m president put that back

- he doesn’t. abby just laughs

- she’ll even join wally in the antics just to annoy nigel

- one time in the middle of a scene, u can hear all of them running around and yelling backstage

- that might have been the end of their stage crew era LMAO

#cknd #knd #codename kids next door #kids next door #gknd #galactic knd #galactic kids next door #sector v #nigel uno #numbuh 1 #hoagie gilligan #numbuh 2 #kuki sanban #numbuh 3 #wallabee beetles #numbuh 4 #abby lincoln #abigail lincoln #numbuh 5 #knd headcanons #cknd headcanons #codename kids next door hcs #codename kids next door headcanons #knd memes #knd au #knd hcs

[jeniffercheck]

light blue (nothing's gonna stop me now)

shivlina fic exchange: exposed affair with a side of shiv becoming twitter's rich white lady of the month, s2 canon (until it's not), set during 'safe room' - 2x04, shivlina are established affair partners.

words: 7.7k

read here or on ao3

for @shivvroys<3

“Do you have a Goodreads?”

Shiv pauses in the bed. Karolina’s been scrolling through her phone, laughing every so often at a cat video that she desperately needs to show Shiv right now, asking her if she’s heard about some absurd foreign news that Karolina gathers from the pits of Reddit.

(Because Shiv desperately needed to know that a rolled truck in Canada covered an entire highway in celery.)

It’s the worst part of the night, when the hours turn into minutes and the minutes to seconds, and every passing moment becomes one less that they get to breathe the same air. One less that they get to sit next to one another and exist in their small bubble, away from all the bullshit that makes up their lives.

“What?” Shiv asks, flopping her head to face Karolina.

“A Goodreads account,” Karolina says. “Do you have one?”

“Yeah,” Shiv says. She shifts closer to Karolina, trying to get a better look at her phone. “Why?”

Karolina shifts the device into Shiv’s view. “I think you’ve been discovered.”

“What?” Shiv rips the phone out of Karolina’s hand, eyes quickly scanning the screen. It’s her account, and the numbers do look suspiciously higher than usual. She grabs her own phone and opens the app, and lo and behold, hundreds of notifications have rolled in throughout the day. Likes and comments on her reviews, followers on her account. She’s not not used to it, her Twitter and Instagram receiving a healthy amount of engagement compared to the average user, but those are staged. This is…fucking embarrassing.

“How the hell did they find this?” she grumbles, clicking through some of the followers.

“I don’t know,” Karolina says. “Maybe the one-star and very detailed review of that unauthorized biography on your father was a good hint?”

“My review?” Shiv asks, scrolling through her page.

“I mean,” Karolina continues, “I don’t think the words, ‘My dad,’ were very helpful in keeping yourself anonymous.”

It appears on Shiv’s screen, a review logged last week. Sloppy, choppy, and boring as hell—she deletes it before she has time to read the rest.

“Oh my god,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “I was drunk when I wrote that.”

“Well, you’re a tough critic when you’re plastered,” Karolina says. Shiv’s mouth curls upward in disbelief as she unveils herself to Karolina, who seems to be fighting a smirk of her own. Shiv can’t contain her laughter as she drops back onto the bed, and Karolina follows, perched on her elbow next to Shiv’s head.

“What are the optics on this?” Shiv asks. The last thing she needs is to start an internet war with some E-List author. Karolina pulls her phone back in front of her, the screen flashing as she swipes through different apps, her nails making that grating tapping sound that pisses Shiv off when she’s trying to go to sleep.

“Uh—” Karolina pauses, zooming in on something. “Well, looks to me like you’ve just become the internet’s newest white girl of the month.”

“The what?”

“I mean, just look—” Karolina holds out her phone again, urging Shiv to read whatever’s on the screen, Twitter coming into view as Shiv does so. She scrolls through a variety of tweets, phrases like feral and deranged and mommy punching through. “They’re going crazy over you.”

  @evermores: Does anyone else think Shiv Roy and Nate Sofrelli had something going on?

          ↳ @dazzlinghaze: why do you know random ass Gil staffers

                      ↳ @evermores: Spoken like a fake fan.

↳ @notromanroy1: they were definitely boning

 

@milfhotline: I mean I know she probably steals money but she’s hot, so.

          ↳ @moonhaven: ???

                   ↳ @Ryan2334657: Her dad is Logan Roy. Definitely a family of thieves.

                            ↳ @moonhaven: sorry are you their bank? maybe she hates him. we don’t know

                                     ↳ @milfhotline: oomf out here defending a capitalist?

 

@candlenights: I don’t care what y’all say. Shiv Roy is my new Caroline Calloway. If she wants to steal, let her. Who am I to deny a woman her wrongs?

“Why the fuck do they all think I’ve stolen money?”

“You’re a Roy. It obviously means you commit wire fraud for breakfast,” Karolina says, scrolling through more tweets. “You should reply to one of them. Fan the flames.”

“Why would I do that?”

Fanning the flames sounds like the opposite of what her years of PR experience have told her.

“It would look good, engaging with the culture,” Karolina argues. “You know ATN’s viewership is sixty-eight percent senior citizens? Imagine if you brought in the youth. Your father would salivate.”

Shiv sits up, looking at Karolina doubtfully. “You, Karolina Novotney, want to brainwash the youth with ATN?”

Karolina shrugs, that hint of a smirk still visible on her face. Shiv scoffs playfully.

“Fuck you. You just want to see what would happen.”

“Fine,” Karolina concedes. “Sue me.”

“Yeah,” Shiv says, leaning over to press a kiss on Karolina’s forehead before getting out of the bed. “You couldn’t afford that.”

Karolina gasps, throwing a pillow at Shiv. “Whatever,” she says. “I just think it would be a good temperature check. Organic.”

“Well, I’m not engaging,” Shiv says. “I’m disengaging, if anything. I’m deleting my Goodreads and leaving the rest to their imaginations.”

“Their imaginations certainly are impressive,” Karolina says, grimacing at her phone.

“What is it?” Shiv asks.

“I thought you were disengaging?”

Shiv rolls her eyes. “I am.”

“You’re no fun,” Karolina says, pouting as she stands, but Shiv walks back over to her, lightly pushing Karolina back on the bed.

“You hang around me because I’m fun?” she asks, hovering over Karolina. She stops just as she reaches Karolina’s lips, and Karolina’s breath hitches. It’s then that Karolina’s laptop chimes from the other end of the room, and both of them sigh, an unwelcome reminder that their time for the night is officially coming to a close.

“You’re so much fun,” Karolina says before she leans up, stealing a chaste kiss from Shiv’s lips. “What time is Tom expecting you?”

Shiv sighs, rising once again.

“Thirty minutes ago,” she says. She walks into Karolina’s bathroom, pursuing her things that are already there. It all feels so simple, having a toothbrush in Karolina’s holder, having pajamas in her drawers. It’s a second life, sure, a home away from home, but it doesn’t feel any less real than the other parts, the parts where wakes up in the middle of the night and wonders why Karolina’s hands feel so big, why her sink looks so different. She washes her face, pushing the thought away for another time.

“Shiv,” Karolina says, her accusatory tone following Shiv into the bathroom.

“What?” Shiv asks, drying her face. “He’s fine. Mondale’s there.”

Karolina’s silent as she leans against the door frame, watching Shiv freshen up. It’s one of the more humiliating parts of the routine, running home to her husband who thinks she’s well on her way to becoming the next Head of PR for Waystar, guiding his eager mouth through the dark to her already-bruising breastbone, lest he think the marks came from anyone other than himself. Karolina looks at her sadly. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s annoying when it does, the sour mood or separation catching them both by its vicious claws.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Karolina asks. She asks at least once a week. Shiv would find it endearing if it didn’t make her feel entirely suffocated by just the thought of her actions.

“I told you, we have an arrangement,” Shiv says.

“And you’re not lying to me?”

Shiv sighs. She’s not lying, not really. She and Tom do have an arrangement. She stays out of Tom’s business—not that he even makes an effort to participate—and he stays out of hers. It’s simple, and she wants it to stay that way, but still, a part of her knows things with Karolina have gone outside the parameters of the arrangement. So, she’s not lying, but she isn’t quite sure where the truth fits just yet.

“I’m not lying,” Shiv says. “And Tom doesn’t own me. If I’m late, I’m late.”

“Alright,” Karolina says, voice still weary.

“What, you want to get rid of me so soon?” Shiv teases.

“I wouldn’t let you hog my sheets all the time if I wanted to get rid of you,” Karolina says.

“I do not.”

“Prove it,” Karolina challenges, and Shiv laughs.

“Should I set up the cameras before, or after we fuck?” Shive asks, facing the mirror. Karolina laughs, but it’s small and she replies by hugging Shiv from behind and resting her chin on Shiv’s shoulder. They lock eyes through the mirror.

“Stay over tonight,” Karolina says.

It’s an easy ask, as easy as anything else Karolina ever asks Shiv to do for her, and a rare one at that, and it tugs at Shiv the way it always does when she has to deny Karolina of something that she wants. Karolina, a never-ending stream of goodwill and wonder, Shiv, a constant disappointment.

“What do you get out of this?” Shiv suddenly asks, and Karolina doesn’t hesitate with her response.

“I get you.”

“But—” Shiv stammers, unsatisfied by the answer. “Like, what do you get out of it?”

Surely Shiv is not the prize. She’s a consolation, a means to an end. Karolina should be lucky to have her, sure, but when luck runs out, what’s left? Shiv is convenient.

“You make me feel normal for a little while,” Karolina says. “Like I’ve finally done something right. You do.”

It feels like a cosmic joke, Karolina saying that Shiv makes her feel right when Karolina makes Shiv feel as though she’s done everything wrong, her mere presence causing Shiv to rethink every action she’s ever taken to lead up to their interactions. Not that it’s Karolina’s fault. It’s a mess that Shiv’s made, one she knows she has to clean up soon, before it all comes crashing down on her.

“Not what you wanted to hear?” Karolina asks, looking nervous in Shiv’s silence. Shiv reaches up to grab Karolina’s hand, squeezing it as she smiles softly.

“Just—not what I expected,” she says.

“What did you expect?” Karolina asks.

“I dunno,” Shiv says. “Maybe that my financial crimes get you off.”

Karolina’s lips curve gently, and a soft laugh escapes her. Shiv knows she’s laughing because Shiv wants her to. Because Shiv has to leave in fifteen minutes and if they get into it now, if they let their emotions get any further, they might go places they can never come back from. Shiv turns around, connecting their foreheads. By the time she leaves, Karolina is back to some late-night work, and Shiv, back to Tom.

 

—

The first thought Shiv has when the gunshot goes off, is that it doesn’t really sound like anything at all. One second she’s playing Connect the Dots while being babysat by the Old Guard, and the next she’s being rushed off through the executive floor to a safe room that she isn’t really sure is all that safe, given the fact that they’re on the top floor of a high rise in the Financial District, distinctly known for having zero issues involving life-endangering events and fucking high rises.

She stumbles her way through an increasingly irritating phone call with Tom, something about the wrong safe room and she realizes that she doesn’t have a clue where Karolina is, right safe room or wrong safe room, and she still doesn’t know if there’s a shooter in the building, and she still doesn’t know where she stands with Dad, and she doesn’t know shit about anything, because everybody wants to keep her around but nobody wants to keep her in the loop.

“Where’s Kendall?” her dad is immediately asking, winded and wilting, and only ever concerned about her older brother.

“I don’t know,” Shiv says. It doesn’t seem like the correct time to remind him that she’s not Kendall’s keeper, and she’s also got bigger concerns on her mind. “Were you with Karolina? Have you seen her?”

“Karolina?” he repeats, and at first, it’s a quickening of Shiv’s heart rate, wondering if she’s somehow said too much, gone too far, but then it’s a dismissive wave of her father’s hand, a welcome sign that she hasn’t completely screwed anything up just yet. “Get on the phone with her—figure this fucking mess out.”

She does, retreat to a corner and call Karolina several times, her pulse beating harder with every passing ring. It’s not until the third try that Karolina actually picks up, just as Kendall and Gerri enter the room, and she still has enough time to roll her eyes as her dad greets Kendall, his golden boy returned safely to the throne room.

“Shiv?” Karolina’s voice comes through the receiver.

“Karolina,” Shiv sighs, relieved. “Where are you?”

“I was on a lower floor dealing with a small fire—we were evacuated right away,” Karolina says. “I’m with the news crew now, they’re prepping to go live from outside. Where are you?”

Shiv looks around. Kendall doing God knows what in the bathroom, Rhea and Dad looking awkward as all fuck on the couch, Colin hovering creepily. Gerri, it seems, is heading right for Shiv.

“In the Kensington Palace of panic rooms,” Shiv says, losing her words with every step Gerri moves closer. “I just wanted—we, wanted to check in on the response. And I—you’re safe? With the protestors outside?”

“I’m pretty sure ANTIFA is the least of our safety concerns,” Karolina mumbles, her voice getting quieter as Shiv cups the phone, Gerri stopped in front of her, gesturing to the phone.

“Can I speak with her?” Gerri asks.

Shiv has half a mind to say no. Wants to take herself and her phone and Karolina’s voice and lock it all away from others. Wants to touch her hand and make sure it’s real, that Karolina’s right where she says she is, outside of Waystar HQ, prepping some corporate shill with eyelashes far too long for national news to tell the whole world that everything’s fine, that there’s a shooter inside of their workplace but they’re all fine because this is America and guns are our friends.

Instead, she holds her phone out to Gerri. She’s at least grateful to be rid of the vibrations from Tom’s texts coming through every twenty seconds.

“How’s it looking out there?” Gerri asks into the phone. She eyes Shiv and then turns her back, mumbling a yes, and a no, and a no, we’re not legally liable, and a yes, they can say that on-air, and when Gerri turns back around, she looks as though she’s about to hang up, and if things were different—if Shiv weren’t trapped in a room with five people who definitely can’t know that Karolina is anything more to Shiv than a corporate sounding board—she’d get Gerri to stop. She’d rip the phone out of Gerri’s hands and take Karolina back.

Except, Gerri pauses. Her eyes flash suspiciously at Shiv, and she bids Karolina goodbye before handing the phone back, Shiv, using everything in her power not to look as desperate as she feels.

“Shiv?” Karolina says. “You there?”

“I’m with you,” Shiv says, trying her best to sound inconspicuous. Dad, Kendall, and Rhea are still deep in talks, but Gerri’s ears are her, even if she’s pretending they aren’t.

“I stepped away for a moment,” Karolina says. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, we’re all good here,” Shiv says. “I’m glad we got in touch quickly. It’s best if we get a statement out soon.”

“I was worried,” Karolina says, and Shiv bites the inside of her lip. “When they said there’d been shots fired, you know, I-I didn’t know—”

“Uh-huh,” Shiv cuts her off. “You’re right, we should wait a little. Don’t want to sound too haste.”

There’s a bit of silence on the other end, and Shiv feels bad. Feels awful, actually, because she’s worried too but she can’t show that. Not right here, not in front of everyone. She can’t cry or panic, can’t tell Karolina that if something had happened to her it would’ve been the end of Shiv, that the entire time she was speaking to her husband the only thing that was on Shiv’s mind was Karolina. She can’t tell Karolina any of this, ever.

“Can I see you tonight?” Karolina then asks.

It’s small and slightly hesitant, and feels far too fragile for the circumstances, feels too fragile to be aimed at Shiv. She can’t help it. Shiv might explode if she has to deny Karolina anything ever again.

“Yes, of course,” she says. “I’ll send you the details when we’re out of here.”

“Okay, Shiv. Be safe,” Karolina says, and it feels like the words are hanging, like there are so many more they should be saying that are inhibited by time and space and circumstance, and Shiv can’t help when the spell is broken, when she forgets that she isn’t the only person in the room and her lips curl to say something irrevocable, until at the last second she looks at Gerri, perceptive eyes still plainly on her and she does remember. The destructive words swallowed, and replaced with a cordial, “You too.”

She avoids Gerri’s gaze as she hangs up, opting to read through the abundance of texts from Tom that she’s received within the last twenty minutes. He’s going to be stuck at ATN all night, and the paperwork is, “Horrendous,” considering the shooter was revealed to be one of his employees. She schedules a car for Karolina and a separate car for herself, both to be taken to her apartment. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but it doesn’t feel wrong either, wanting to just sit on her own couch in her own place and bask in the silence with Karolina.

“What did Karolina want from you?” Gerri asks suddenly, voice quiet so as not to interrupt the Boys Club still trying to land a deal.

“Uh—just wanted my opinion on some words,” Shiv says. “That’s all.”

“Right,” Gerri says. “Because it doesn’t make sense to speak with the people who are actually on her payroll.”

“Look, Gerri, if you have a problem, then take it up with Karolina,” Shiv says. “I’m sure she’d love to explain.”

She locks eyes with Gerri this time, smiling her Shiv Roy best, and Gerri just sighs. “She’s not a toy, Shiv.”

Shiv can’t help it as she laughs under her breath.

“Are you my godmother, or hers?”

Colin whispers in Dad’s ear. He stands, Rhea joining him. They’re all shaking hands, smiling as Colin opens the door.

“If I were Karolina’s, I’d be telling her to run rather than telling you not to fuck things up.”

—

Relief.

It’s the only thing Shiv feels when there’s finally a knock on her door and she opens it to find Karolina on the other side, a little more disheveled than Shiv is used to, but her Karolina, nonetheless. Shiv normally wouldn't have her over like this, not when it’s so late and Tom could be in even when she knows he won’t be, but she finds that she’s running out of reasons to care.

The second Karolina is inside and situated, she’s pulling Shiv into a hug. It’s not her first hug of the day, but it’s the first one where she feels like she’s being held. Like her hands aren’t the only two things doing the lifting, like her body isn’t a vessel for someone else to consume and spit out and mold—like she’s being hugged because someone cares. Like someone is wrapping her in their arms, not because it’s where they want her, but because it’s where she fits. With Karolina, everything fits.

“Eventful day,” Karolina says, brushing a thumb across Shiv’s cheek.

“Not really a good reflection of Waystar,” Shiv says, frowning. “An employee blowing their brains out in the bullpen.”

“We’re lucky that’s all it was,” Karolina says, and her hands tighten around Shiv, voice thick with the emotional toll of the day. “Three Roys in the building an active shooter, I mean—it could’ve been anything, Shiv.”

“Hey,” Shiv instantly says, attempting to calm the concern in Karolina’s words. “It wasn’t that. I’m fine, and you’re fine—we’re all good. Right?”

Karolina looks at her, furrowed brows and scrunched lips holding back like they always do, and she just nods. It comes over Shiv again, that wave of protectiveness that she pretends hasn’t recently become exclusive only to Karolina, and she takes control of the embrace, bringing the side of Karolina’s temple to her lips and holding her tightly in return. She wants to say something, wants to make more promises that she can’t keep, and ask more questions that she doesn’t want the answers to, but her phone buzzes in her pocket.

“It’s Tom,” Shiv says, pulling away from Karolina, and then into the receiver, “Hello?”

“Hey, honey,” Tom’s voice comes through. “Are you home yet?”

“Yeah,” Shiv says. “Yeah, I got in about an hour ago.”

“Okay, good,” Tom says. “Will you make sure to feed Mondale? I’m afraid I’m going to be in the studio for a while.”

“Yeah,” Shiv says. “Can do.”

She’s being short. It’s not fair, but so many things aren’t fair. Which safe room are you in, Shiv? Are you sure there’s only one? I think they brought me to the wrong one, Shiv. I thought that it was something we wanted for me. What happened to the plan, Shiv?

“Alright, well. Everything—everything’s good?”

“Yeah, Tom,” Shiv sighs. “Your safe room kept you safe, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tom says. “Very spacious. It was nice to have some quiet time, you know? Hard to come by these days.”

“Right, no—yeah,” Shiv says. “Ours was—it was quiet too.”

“Good, good.”

There’s a lull of silence between them that Shiv often worries is a permanent fixture, but she knows Karolina looming behind her isn’t the best fuel for a conversation with her husband.

“Well,” Tom says, filling the silence, “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure, honey,” Shiv says. “Just let me know when you’re on your way, yeah?”

“Alright,” Tom says. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Tom.”

She keeps her back turned, scrolling through the calls on her phone. Tom, incoming. Karolina (3), outgoing. Tom, incoming. Roman, missed. Tom (2), missed. Karolina, incoming. Karolina, outgoing. She locks her phone, sliding it into her pocket without another glance. She finds Karolina’s set herself up at the kitchen counter, laptop out in front of her, fingers typing away. She looks up as Shiv returns, and Shiv wonders where her determined energy comes from, how Karolina can always keep going, despite it all.

“ATN putting out the fire for us?” Karolina asks.

“Yeah,” Shiv laughs sarcastically. “They’re gonna own the libs and turn a suicide into a men’s rights issue.”

“As long as the ATN audience believes it, I couldn’t care less,” Karolina says. “Waystar will provide its condolences and ATN can do…whatever the hell it does.”

Shiv knows Karolina doesn’t mean that. That she’ll be watching the news broadcast and she’ll send a scathing email to ATN’s PR department when their story doesn’t align with the professional public image that Waystar needs to maintain, and she’ll work long and extra hours just to make it right, even though there are plenty of people on her payroll that can do it just as well with her guidance.

Shiv wonders if Karolina thinks the same way about her. That whenever she asks if they can spend the night together or if they can see each other, if there’s not always a part of her that couldn’t care less. A part of her that can’t afford to care more.

“Well, with a Nazi on the news desk, I’m sure they’ll do just fine,” Shiv says. Karolina sighs and leans her elbow on the counter, head in her hand. She continues to type with one hand, a skill Shiv would find laughable on any other day, and Shiv pulls another seat closer to Karolina, resting her own body across the countertop as she watches Karolina work. Suddenly, Karolina’s typing furiously, sitting up straighter and switching through tabs at a rapid pace. Her phone dings a few times, and an unsettling feeling comes over Shiv.

“Fuck.”

Karolina’s expression has grown from slightly annoyed to exceedingly worried within seconds, and Shiv sits up instantly.

“What is it?” she asks. “Ken get high and shoplift with the Naked Cowboy?”

Except, Karolina doesn’t laugh, which worries Shiv, because Karolina always laughs at her jokes, no matter how stupid or ill-timed or horrible they are.

“Um, no, Shiv,” Karolina says. “It—it’s about you.”

Shiv goes through her mental calendar, trying to remember the events of the last week. She can’t remember stealing candy or vape fluid or murdering a fucking homeless person though, so whatever it is, surely can’t be as bad as Karolina’s frantic typing is having her believe. Karolina continues to type, and then pauses, turning her laptop screen to face Shiv, a gaudy email taking up the screen.

Email: [email protected]

Subject: Heavy is the Head

Message: Married heiress to a popular American news conglomerate spotted cozying up to a mystery woman at a gala.

Shiv tries to make sense of the words. “What am I looking at?”

“It’s a blind,” Karolina says, and Shiv attempts to calm her panic. A blind is a blind. They’re bullshit, even when true.

“It’s just the same thing as last night,” Shiv says. “Nobody’s going to believe it.”

“Scroll.”

Shiv does, hesitantly, and her heart sinks as she makes it to the next part. There’s a photo. A fucking photo of her kissing Karolina t that stupid charity gala that she didn’t even want to be at, taken by some sleazeball with an iPhone 14 and a dream. But still, it’s not the end of the world, right?

“Nobody can see your face,” Shiv says. “I mean, fine, fuck, I’m kissing a woman—that doesn’t mean anything—”

Karolina slides her second phone over to Shiv, a screen that’s usually reserved for the most desperate of occasions, and on it is a thread with a different photo, Karolina’s face and dress circled out of a crowd.

“Fuck,” Shiv repeats, because what exactly is the proper word to being outed to millions of people at once, and also, by the way, the person you’re kissing is one of your dad’s most trusted advisors, and, oh, you’re also fucking married! She looks to Karolina, who seems to be flitting between passing out and figuring out where she can purchase a military-grade machine gun to mow down the Reddit headquarters.

“Is someone on this?” Shiv asks, and she’ll admit it, she’s panicking, because normally it’s Karolina who’s on these stories and squashing them before they’ve seen an ounce of daylight, but Karolina is here, and the story’s already broken, and her eyes are a little frantic and her hands a little shaky and Shiv’s slowly losing faith that they’re making it out of this one unscathed. Shiv grabs one of Karolina’s hands, and the contact springs her into action.

“I—I don’t know, Shiv,” Karolina says, puffing her cheeks. She pulls her hand away, standing. “I need to make some calls.”

“You can use my office,” Shiv says, and Karolina nods, walking away without so much as another word. It’s a lot, a shooting and an exposé all in one day, and Shiv doesn’t even want to begin to think of the fallout. The thought of checking her phone makes her feel sick, and if the universe is at all on her side (which, it’s decidedly not, considering this is happening at all) then Dad is already asleep and he’ll never have to find out about this mess. There’s no way Roman hasn’t already found out, and she makes a mental note to come up with a list of things to blackmail him with if he enjoys his life as it is currently. And then, as if on cue, Tom is walking into the apartment, either blissfully unaware, or entirely all too excited.

“Shiv?” his voice calls out, and she steels herself, not at all ready for the first wave of consequence.

“In here,” she calls from the kitchen. It’s a little while before Tom actually enters, his slow, tentative steps confirming her suspicions.

“Hey, honey,” Tom says as he approaches. He doesn’t greet her like he normally does, his inviting arms usually engulfing her, and she’s troubled by the fact that it doesn’t bother her. The distance almost feels welcome.

“Hey,” she says. The tension is thick.

“Crazy day, huh?” he asks. He looks at her expectantly, and she imagines what he’s thinking. Maybe he wants her to fall to her knees, to beg for forgiveness. Maybe he wants her to serve him with divorce papers, to annul the marriage having violated the terms of the prenup. Maybe he wants to pretend it never happened, to forbid Shiv from seeing Karolina ever again even though they both know that Shiv would never listen to that order. She can’t tell, because she never knows what Tom wants. He pretends to want what she wants, or he says he wants less when he always wants more, or he wants things that simply don't exist, things that can’t ever exist, and she just has to stumble her way through his needs, catering to him without completely destroying her own desires.

She feels that urge again, to hide Karolina somewhere far away, somewhere where Shiv wanting can’t be used against them. Where she doesn’t have to suppress her desires just to make everyone else around her feel whole.

“Yeah,” she says stiffly. “Wild.”

Tom nods, still playing his cards close to his chest. He eyes the mess of screens on the counter, not lingering for too long on any device. It’s likely he spent his entire car ride home memorizing every detail of the news.

“So—what’s the plan?” he asks, like he’s somehow a part of it. Like it’s a business move that they’re making together and now they have to figure it out. Like it’s not Shiv’s livelihood at stake.

“The plan?” she asks. She knows it’s not the time to be dense, but he’s already pissing her off and they haven’t even begun. She doesn’t need a Tom-solution to her own mess.

“Shiv,” he says, her name coming out like a warning.

“I don’t know, Tom,” she says. “I have to—you know, I need to talk—”

It’s not the admitting that’s hard. She’s admitted plenty before. Admitted worse. It’s saying her name. It’s giving Tom that piece of her, that version of Karolina that up until now, had only belonged to Shiv. If she says her name, then it’s real. They belong to everybody. It leaves her control.

“Her,” Shiv finally says. Tom’s current state of mind is elusive. She never prided him much in the way of not wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he’s doing a good job currently, and it’s unnerving, not being able to suss out what he’s thinking.

“When will—I mean, is that—are you in contact with her?” he asks. “Because we should really all be on the same page.”

We. Us. All.

“She’s in the study,” Shiv says, and Tom’s eyebrows shoot upward.

“She’s here? Now?”

“Well, yeah, Tom. Did you want me to drop her off in front of Waystar?” she asks. “See how many different ways the paparazzi can ask her what it feels like to fuck your wife?”

“Okay, Shiv—I understand you’re upset—”

“Oh, fuck off,” Shiv says, turning away from him. “Can you just—stop, being so nice right now?”

“Well—I mean, this was a part of it, right?” he asks, that sickeningly dumbfounded expression slapped across his face. “The arrangement?”

Shiv hopes her face isn’t conveying the paralyzing lapse of nausea that she feels course through her. She can feel the boyish hurt seep through his words, pretending like the arrangement is still something he’s okay with. If she were being completely honest, it doesn’t feel like a part of the arrangement. If it were a part of the arrangement, it wouldn’t have been Karolina in that photo. It would’ve been some hot, young guy, just barely taller than Tom; enough to make her feel like he should be jealous, enough to make him jealous. Karolina is different. He wasn’t supposed to find out about her. She was supposed to be Shiv’s secret, her life away from Tom that he couldn’t touch, couldn’t steal. She won’t let him steal her now, either.

“Right,” she says. Silly. How could she have forgotten? “The arrangement, yeah no—sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Tom pouts and steps forward, Shiv’s lie like some kind of spell cast on him. It feels more morose than usual, his desperation for her bare minimum commitment to him. He pulls her into him, as if the arrangement means it’s not real. She isn’t sure either of them believes that, but she knows he wants to, and Shiv, as always, is beholden to his wants.

“It was frightening being in danger,” Tom says. “And this, on top of it all. We’ll get Rat-Fucker Sam on it. Ruin some Silicon Valley tech mogul’s life.”

“I think it’s too late for Sam, Tom. It went viral instantly,” she says. “I just need to figure this out.”

“Well, has she gotten the call yet?”

Shiv looks up. The call?

“What call?”

“You know,” Tom shrugs, and Shiv wildly shakes her head, because, no, she doesn’t know. She’s not some clairvoyant psychic put on Earth just to be able to read Tom Wambsgans’ mind when he decides the middle of a conversation is a good time to play fucking charades.

“What call, Tom?” she says again, stepping away. He looks around to make sure it’s just the two of them, which, Shiv’s pretty sure they are, considering she can still hear Karolina’s commanding voice leave the confines of the study every few minutes, and he leans in, lowering his voice.

“The fucking axe, Shiv!”

He says it like it’s break room gossip. Like Karolina isn’t one of the few people at Waystar who’s actually decent at their job, like she’s dispensable and that’s why Shiv chose her. Not a real person. She wonders if that boyish hurt isn’t just a glint of zeal, like maybe he’s finally found his opportunity for payback. Shiv gets to cheat, and Tom gets to watch the destruction. She wonders if this might not have been his play all along, let her run herself through brick walls over and over again, and watch silently until one of them finally takes her down, bruised and bloody and begging for mercy. Something tugs inside of her then, and she realizes there is a wall worth salvaging, and it’s not the one in front of her.

“She’s not getting fired, Tom,” Shiv says, hoping the blood and the cement seep through, spoken proof that even knocked down, the fragments of Karolina are deep within her now.

Tom just stares at her, open-mouthed with that stupid, disbelieving smile.

“If you’re worried about the optics, Shiv—we’ll have her sign papers. This won’t come down on you,” he says. “It’ll be quick and painless, I mean, you won’t even have to be a part of it—”

“Tom,” Shiv snaps, he closes his mouth, jaw set. “I said, she’s not fucking getting fired.”

In come the theatrics.

“Oh, oh, I mean, of course, Shiv, I don’t—I mean, I wouldn’t really think of it as a firing, more so as a sort of, Witness Protection situation,” he says. “I mean, she can’t possibly come back to the office, right? That could be, well—sort of disastrous, if you think about it.”

She tries to imagine it, tries to picture either of them returning to Waystar with a shred of their dignity, and she wants to believe that there is a way, somehow.

“She can,” Shiv says. “It was just a part of the arrangement, right? If we don’t treat it like a big deal, then it’s not. Firing her looks sloppy, Tom. It’s guilty.”

“Yeah, Shiv, it’s fine,” Tom says, finally letting some of his anger come through. “Maybe I should walk in with her tomorrow, then everyone can know I’m friends with the woman from whom I got cucked.”

“I don’t really want that any more than you do,” Karolina says, and Shiv looks past Tom, his head immediately turning towards the sound of her voice.

“Karolina, hello—”

“Hi, Tom,” Karolina says.

She’s a new kind of silent. Shiv isn’t sure how long Karolina has been standing there, doesn’t know how much of the conversation Karolina heard, but however much, Shiv wishes she hadn’t.

“Uh, hey—Tom?” Shiv says, Tom now looking back at her. “Can you just, maybe?” She nods in the direction of the door, and he raises his eyebrows before a light, “Oh,” escapes him, suddenly cordial again now that Karolina’s in the room.

“Sure, sure, yeah, I’ll just—I need to take Mondale out. All of this…energy isn’t good for his sleep schedule, so. I’ll, um, I’ll leave you two to…it,” he says, wincing near the end.

They both wait for him to leave, Karolina not daring to move closer until she hears the door shut, and even then, it’s a minimal attempt at closing the distance.

“He seemed mad,” Karolina says.

“Yeah, well,” Shiv sighs. He reacted how she’d expected. Highly upset but too desperate to actually show it.

“I thought he knew,” Karolina says, her tone slightly accusatory.

“He knew, yeah,” Shiv says, trying to sound sure. “I guess, he just—didn’t know who with, is the problem.”

She doesn’t expect Karolina to believe her, not in the way she expects Tom to take her words at face value, and Karolina doesn’t. She never does.

“So, we’ve been having an affair,” Karolina states.

“I told you, Tom and I have—”

“An arrangement. Yeah, Shiv, I got it,” Karolina says. The silence isn’t awkward more than it is uncomfortable. There are too many things to say, too many questions and strategies and unknowns. Shiv starts with what’s simple.

“Who was on the phone?” she asks.

“It was Gerri,” Karolina says. “She, um—well, she chewed me out, and then she, you know. Advice.”

“And what was her advice?”

“She told me I should stock my arsenal,” Karolina says. “HR, journalists, lawyers. She gave me some numbers.”

“Are you going to call?” Shiv asks, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t know, Shiv,” Karolina says. “I might.”

Shiv nods, unsure of what other response she could give. Of course, she doesn’t want Karolina to call those numbers. Of course, she wants Karolina to trust her, to believe that Shiv will do the right thing, to believe that Shiv would stand by her, would choose her. The longer this bullshit goes on, the more Shiv thinks that she would.

“Don’t,” Shiv says. “I’m not going to hang you out to dry. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Shiv,” Karolina sighs, and her face falls almost sympathetically. She moves closer to Shiv, though they still feel worlds apart, and Shiv wants nothing more than to reach out, to grab her hand and never let go. “It’s not you that I’m worried about.”

Dad. Shiv had nearly forgotten about him while trying to handle Tom.

“Did Gerri say—”

“He hasn’t called her about it,” Karolina says. “So, he either hasn’t seen it, or he’s ignoring it.”

Shiv lets out a sigh of relief at the information. This gives them time, a lot more time than she initially thought they’d have.

“So, we still have a chance to get ahead of it,” Shiv says. “Or he doesn’t believe it. Both work in our favor.”

“It doesn’t really matter whether he hasn’t seen it, Shiv, there’s a photo,” Karolina says. “Everyone else has seen it. The entire fucking internet has already seen it.”

“He’s the only person that matters, though,” Shiv says.

“The only person?” Karolina asks. “What about my subordinates? My boss, fucking—Hugo? There are people who want to see me fail. This could ruin me, Shiv.”

“It won’t ruin you,” Shiv says.

“I’ve been fucking the married daughter of the fucking CEO, Shiv. This is a PR disaster from hell,” Karolina says. “Who’s going to want to hire me? I’m a fucking liability now.”

Shiv waits for Karolina to say more. Waits for her to say that she regrets this, and that she never should’ve done it, and that it was a bad idea from the start. That Shiv’s malignant, a festering presence that bursts into people's lives and does her bidding and then leaves right before things go to shit, that she somehow makes it out unharmed every time, a body count living in her wake. She won’t let that happen to Karolina. Won’t even give her a chance to think it.

“I’ll handle it, Karolina,” Shiv says. “I’ll fucking, I’ll figure it out, okay?”

“How?” Karolina asks. Her voice is sharp and jagged and Shiv doesn’t think she’s ever heard it sound so unsure before, so small in the face of something so large.

“I don’t know, I’ll offer my soul to Shanghai, I’ll do the fucking management program, I’ll do whatever he wants—”

“What?” Karolina interrupts. “Shiv you’re not even in the company—”

“Why do you think I was in the office today?” Shiv asks. “It’s me. It’s fucking me, Karolina.”

Karolina shakes her head, confusion taking over her face. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know if he meant it, but he said it, and it’s something,” Shiv says. “If he wants me out of his precious politics, then it’s fucking something, okay? We have to try.”

Because if this is rock bottom, then Shiv has nothing left to lose, and she knows the Dems on Capitol Hill would kill to have the gay fucking Roy child on their campaigns. She can work with this; she just has to convince Karolina.

“Even if that did—it’s not a Get Out of Jail Free, Shiv,” Karolina says. She goes silent, her arms crossing gently. Her expression softens, her anger at the situation replaced with something sadder. She looks up at Shiv again, eyes boring into her from across the room, “Did he really choose you?”

“He said it,” Shiv shrugs. Karolina still doesn’t look convinced.

“It’ll never work,” Karolina says. “It just won’t, Shiv. The CEO of Waystar—home of ATN—with a woman?”

“Then we’ll go to Pierce,” Shiv says instantly. “Get them to agree to an exclusive sit down. Dad will be so mad he’ll back off. Fuckin’ extort the hell out of him. I’m from a crime family, right?”

Karolina’s brows furrow so thoughtfully, Shiv might think Karolina were pitying her. “No, Shiv.”

“Why the hell not?” Shiv asks, growing irritated when Karolina laughs.

“Shiv, you can’t ruin your life for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shiv asks.

“That I can’t let myself get in the way of you becoming CEO.”

And it’s that. That sentence right there, when the decision’s already been made for her. She doesn’t care if Karolina hates her for the rest of her life and they never speak again; Shiv won’t let anything happen to her. Karolina, who didn’t go running to the papers right away. Karolina, a top PR strategist who could’ve spun the story in her favor within minutes of its release. Karolina, who desperately wants what’s in Shiv’s best interests. Karolina, who’s willing to throw away her tenure for a fucking vanity title Shiv isn’t sure she’ll ever actually get. Karolina, who cares about Shiv. Who’s worried about how it’ll affect her, sure, but who cares about how it’ll affect Shiv.

“And what if I told you that it wouldn’t even be worth being CEO unless you were there, by my side?” Shiv asks, finally moving closer to Karolina. Karolina's arms are still crossed, but she doesn’t move away as Shiv does so.

“I’d tell you that’s a stupid thing to say.” Karolina looks down, and Shiv lays a hand over her arms, squeezing lightly.

“I know this is bad, Karolina,” Shiv whispers, ducking her head as well. “I know that. But I don’t want any solution that doesn’t involve you. You’re non-negotiable.”

“I’m not an acquisition, Shiv,” Karolina says. “I’m a person and this is my life.”

“I have a life too,” Shiv says. “I want you in it.”

Karolina looks up, her eyes misty. “You have a husband.”

“I don’t have to,” she says, and it’s the first time she’s admitted those words out loud. The first time she verbalizes to another person that maybe she has made some wrong choices along the way.

“You’d leave him?” Karolina asks. Shiv looks into Karolina’s eyes and knows it’s not about leaving Tom. It’s about choosing Karolina.

“You make me feel like I’ve finally done something right, too,” Shiv says, tugging Karolina’s arms free. She presses their foreheads together, and Karolina’s hands grab at Shiv’s waist. They stand there in the silence, connected, and Shiv prepares herself for it to be the end, until Karolina’s voice rings out one final time.

“Shiv—are you sure?”

Shiv kisses Karolina, and it feels like nothing could ever go wrong again.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

 

—

“Look at this one,” Karolina says, rolling over in the bed. It’s been like this every morning since the divorce went through, Karolina doing her morning doom-scrolling and subjecting Shiv to the first round of daily tweets. She assumes one day it’ll get old, but for now, the only thing Shiv cares about is the peaceful glint in Karolina’s eyes and the easy smile she adorns, and Shiv lays her head on Karolina’s chest, giving her undivided attention to Karolina’s selection.

 

@milfupthesun: shiv roy has game like that ?

          ↳ @chaostheory: i mean we’ve all seen her girlfriend

                   ↳ @milfhotline: want a waystar baddie soooo bad now

          ↳ @onemintjulep: need her to teach me her ways

          ↳ @notromanroy1: shiv is definitely not the one with game

 

“Wait a minute—” Shiv snatches the phone and sits up, squinting at the screen. “Is that fucking Roman?”

#evil laughter i think #<333333333333 #shivlina #shiv roy x karolina novotney #succession fic #shivlina fic #shivlina fic exchange 2023 #duskfalls