#C’MON INDIA YOU COULDN’T HAVE PASSED IT

[hazellevessque]

THE HOMOPHOBIA IS REAL

[pastelbrachypelma]

Blind Date

Requested by @swampythesweetsketch ! Thank you for your suggestion and I hope you like it!

~

“I’m so nervous,” Murray admitted, sitting in front of the mirror and staring at himself. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Dude, c’mon!” Sly retorted, barely looking up from where he was putting a top coat over Murray’s nail polish. “If he doesn’t like you, then I’m Santa Claus!”

“That can be arranged,” Bentley teased. “Seriously, though, Murray. Just be yourself. That’s how to be the most attractive.”

“Yeah,” Murray looked away. “I guess. But…”

“Hey,” Sly slid onto the vanity, gently pushing aside a makeup palette with his tail as he sat directly in front of his friend. “Stop worrying, okay?” He grinned. “You know this guy is into you. You’ve been talking for ages. It’s worth a shot at least, right?”

“Right!” Murray squared his shoulders like he was going into battle, and wasn’t wearing holographic nails and a smokey eye. “Thanks for doin my topcoat for me, Sly. And thanks for helping me with my suit, Bentley.”

“No problem,” his brothers said simultaneously.

Sly patted Murray’s shoulder. “Go get ‘im, pal.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Bentley promised.

Murray smiled, and headed out the door.

“All right, Sly,” Bentley said, “you know what to do.”

Sly grabbed his binocucom and cane. “On it!”

~

Murray was already nervous enough being in a sizable crowd with bounty on his head, but, just as Sly had assured him, Murray was the best at disguises out of all of them, and nobody would recognize “The Murray” with makeup on.

He liked his makeup look; just a foundation to match his skin tone, a little contour, blush, and a smokey eye. Sly had helped with his nails, and they looked good. It wasn’t like Murray couldn’t have done it on his own, but Sly wanted to help, and he was better at nails than at eyeliner. Murray chuckled to himself, thinking of the last time Sly tried to do a winged liner. He’d looked even more like a raccoon than usual!

He was sitting alone at the table, waiting for his date, like he had been for the better part of an hour. Every time the door opened, he would look up, expecting to see a handsome man looking for his table. But, it was just couples or families. He sighed. He was sure a blind date would’ve been better, seeing as nobody could turn him down just because of his weight, but maybe the guy had guessed, judging by how much Murray talked about recipes. Or maybe he thought Murray was a sissy, or…

The door opened again, to someone by themselves. Except Murray could recognize that tail in his sleep. Sly had a satin jacket over a button-down shirt, hair slicked back. He was wearing the dance shoes they’d stolen from India, and was looking a little lost. Murray was a bit worried for two reasons. The first was that Sly was here at all; had something happened? The second was that Sly could only handle big crowds if he was at a social event. Parties, he liked. There were excuses to mingle in small groups. He had never liked large throngs of people. If Sly has a panic attack…

But instead, Sly found him (after pretending to have been looking for him) and waved. Murray waved back, confused, as Sly strode forward confidently through the crowd.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Sly said, brushing dust off his lapels. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You didn’t,” Murray said, a bit confused. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Sly demurred, giggling shyly. “Oh, don’t be silly! How could I ever turn down a hunk like you?”

Murray wanted to laugh. Sly liked playing the effeminate gay. The question was, why was he doing that in the first place? At that moment, the door to the restaurant opened again, and Bentley rolled his wheelchair inside. People who were waiting for a table stepped aside to give him room. He was disguised as well, a cloth hat matching the more casual dark wash denim jacket he was wearing over a black necktie. Murray could appreciate the aesthetic...but he was still confused.

Bentley made his way towards the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, pitching his voice deeper in contrast to the way Sly’s had been more high-pitched. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” He glared at Sly.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Sly pointed an accusing finger at Bentley. “I’m here for my date!”

“So am I,” Bentley said, and Murray smiled, starting to catch on. “One of us has the wrong table and you, buddy,” the turtle wheeled into Sly’s space, making the raccoon step back, hand splayed on his heart in dramatic offense, “are definitely at the wrong table. This gentleman is far too handsome for you!”

“I think he’s just the right amount of handsome,” Sly argues. “Just look at those bulging muscles,” he gestured, and Murray flexed, having a bit of fun now that he was in on the joke. “A man like that deserves the world!”

“Guys, you’re gonna make me blush,” Murray grumbled under his breath. Sly winked before sliding back into character as Bentley charged further.

“And? You still kept this gorgeous man waiting! Look at the poor guy’s makeup! All smudged because you were off…” Bentley waved his hand as he searched for an insult, “vaping!”

Sly gasped. “Do you think I would smoke around such a deceptively delicate flower?! The nerve!”

Murray looked over again as the restaurant doors opened. It was his real date, a buck with gold chains draped artfully around his antlers, dressed to the nines in a slimming suit to complement his slender body. Murray recognized the designer logo on his tie, and felt shame creep up his throat as he thought of his thrifted jacket and pilfered shirt. Even the silk skirt he was so proud of made him feel like a freak next to this guy.

“What’s going on here?” The buck spoke, his voice like molten chocolate, as he approached the table. “Which of you is Murray?” His eyes slid approvingly over Sly, and Murray hid his face. “I hope it’s you, handsome.”

“Sorry,” Sly slid in beside Murray, hooking his arm through the hippo’s. “I’m taken. Happily.”

“Me too.” Bentley took Murray’s hand, glaring at the buck.

The deer narrowed his eyes, then laughed. “Oh, thank god,” he said, relieved. “I could never be seen with such a,” he waved his hand derisively, “hideous beast.”

“Hey,” Sly said, voice sharp despite the different pitch. Murray recognized it as the raccoon’s “don’t fuck with me” voice, a rarely seen anger flashing in his eyes. “Murray is amazing! He’s funny and kind and always knows what to say!”

“His strength and skill can’t be matched!” Bentley agreed.

“And tonight, he’s my date.” Sly declared. “So fuck off.”

“No, he’s my date,” Bentley argued. “You fuck off!”

As his two friends bickered, Murray watched the deer walk away. He felt a little bit upset at the rejection, but his friends were nearby, defending him on what was technically their night off. He felt warm inside even so. It was good to be with his brothers again.

Once the deer was out of sight, Sly deflated. “Ack, my throat,” he complained. “I don’t know how you do those high-pitches voices, Murray. I feel like I’ll be raspy by tomorrow!”

Murray chuckled. “It takes practice.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Bentley suggested. “I think we’ve caused enough of a scene.” He glanced at the table. “Nothing needs to be paid for, right?”

“Nope. I didn’t order yet.” Murray replied.

“Let’s get Chinese,” Sly said, stretching as Murray got to his feet. “I saw a great place on the way over.” He locked his arm through Murray’s, hiding a yawn in the hippo’s bicep.

“Do you mean you saw it or smelled it?” Bentley asked, guiding Murray to the handles of his chair. That was about equivalent to hand-holding, Murray knew.

Sly laughed. “Both!”

“Chinese sounds fantastic,” Murray said, sighing in the fresh air. He was still upset about being stood up. He was glad for his friends, but…

“That guy was a complete jerk,” Bentley grumbled, going back to controlling his own chair as Sly let go of Murray. It wasn’t a sudden “no homo” sort of thing, though. It was more of a natural progression as they walked together on the sidewalk, with Bentley’s chair a half-step ahead. “What didjya day his name was?”

“Pierce Monogram,” Murray said. “Trust fund baby, I think. Works in the family business selling shoes.”

“That’s ironic,” Sly mused, swinging his arms up to rest behind his head as he walked. “He wasn’t wearing shoes.”

Murray laughed. “No, I guess he wasn’t. That’s a dealbreaker for me.”

“Murray, you don’t wear shoes either,” Bentley said.

“Exactly!” Murray went on, still laughing. “Somebody has to wear the shoes in the relationship!”

All three of them laughed, and couldn’t stop laughing until they reached the Chinese.

~

“Ah, the smell of sweet, sweet MSG,” Sly licked his lips as he set out the various cartons and bowls.

“This isn’t going to give me indigestion, is it?” Bentley asked skeptically, wrinkling his nose.

“No, no, I got your egg rolls and plain rice here,” Sly set out the food separately for Bentley before using a set of chopsticks to serve himself liberal amount of pork fried rice and vegetable lo mein, claiming one of the containers of scallion pancakes for himself.

“Man,” Murray grinned, slurping his hot and sour soup, “I forgot how good Chinese food actually is.”

“Right?!” Sly beamed. “Glad I thought of it. I haven’t had a good Chinese in months!”

“It’s delicious, I agree. Pass the wonton soup, Murray?” Bentley asked.

“What’re we watchin?” Sly asked between shoveling noodles into his mouth.

Murray blushed. “Are you guys gonna kill me if I say I wanna watch “Pitch Perfect” again?”

Sly swallowed noisily. “Nah, I like that one all right. It’s funny.”

“I’ve no objection,” Bentley said, taking off his glasses momentarily to clean them of the fog from his soup. “It’s date night, after all. You always pick the films for date night.”

“You guys still wanna call it date night?” Murray asked.

The gang had always jokingly held “date nights” for self care, movies, and video games. But that had been before Murray was officially out of the closet. His friends were straight. He thought they hadn’t had a date night in a while because his friends didn’t want to do that sort of this with him now that he was out as gay.

Sly leaned forward. “You okay, big guy?”

Murray sniffled. “I...I dunno, I thought you guys...didn’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Bentley asked.

“I’m gay,” Murray confessed. “I like guys.”

“So?” Sly twitched his tail in confusion. “You’re still my brother. My friend.” He waved his tail in Murray’s face, making the hippo sneeze. “In case I haven’t made it abundantly clear,” the raccoon snuggled up properly against Murray’s side, chittering quietly, “I love you, pal.”

“So do I,” Bentley affirmed. “And...not to be too blunt about it, but...it was pretty obvious to me that you weren’t straight. But,” he cleared his throat, smiling. “That never mattered to me. You’re still my brother. And I still love you.”

Murray rubbed the tears out of his eyes. “Thanks, guys.”

“Sure thing, Murray,” Sly replied, butting his head against Murray’s shoulder before sitting up to properly shovel more food down his throat.

“I’ll get the DVD,” Bentley abandoned his food momentarily and rolled his chair over to set up the TV. Once he was done, he took his food and rolled closer to the couch, so Murray could enjoy his comfort, too.

Murray smiled warmly, happily chowing down on Chinese food and shouting all the words to the songs at the top of his lungs.

That was the best part about being home, Murray decided as he laughed at Sly nearly choking on a wonton and Bentley snorting soup out his nose. Being with the people who loved you unconditionally.

[tsarinastorm]

Stare Blankly-Adam Sackler/Reader- Chapter 2

**This is the first part of a two part series. The series is called So We Beat On**

Chapter 1

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly”.- F. Scott Fitzgerald

   The autumn warmed your skin as the cool air kept you getting too hot. You loved the city in the fall: the leaves, the fashion, the waning sun, and the way it felt like a new chapter beginning. You were going to start a new chapter in your life, but you had to close this chapter. You were going to break up with your boyfriend Marc, so you picked the restaurant you had your first date in, and hoped that being in public would help it go better. You take your seat at the table, which is conveniently hidden and more secluded than the rest of the tables.

               When you moved to the city, you got an apartment, and got your book published, but you had underestimated how long the publishing process would take. You quickly ran through your savings from when you practiced law, and you weren’t making any money from writing yet, still the rent had to be paid. A friend of yours in the city had suggested being a sugar baby. You were morally against it, but your friend told you there wasn’t’ sex involved. So you agreed to go on one date, and after two dates at two hours each, you had made enough to cover your rent for the month. You decided to do it just until you made enough money from writing to continue living in the city.

There were mostly dinner dates, a few events, and a wedding. Most of your clients were just middle-aged men who were bored in their lives and wanted an attractive young women to be seen with them, or just to listen to them. That’s how you met Marc, and you really liked him from the start. Your scheduled meetings became more and more frequent, then he told you that he wanted a relationship and he offered to pay rent for you to have a place on the Upper West side near him if you wouldn’t go on other dates. You agreed because you really felt something for him at the time.

               You settled into your studio apartment on the Upper Westside and he filed for divorce from his wife; they were formally separated when you met. He was an agent who managed artists and he was a part time art history professor at Columbia. Then you started making money from your writing and your books were a success. You felt like you wanted to get a different apartment that you’d pay for with your own money. You found a small place in Tudor and moved in there. When you were on your own, you realized what you felt for Marc was because you thought you needed him, not that you wanted him. In fact, you felt like you were numb and couldn’t feel anything. You didn’t feel anger, rage, disappointment, happiness, sadness: you felt nothing.

               Marc gave you a hug and a kiss on your cheek before sitting across from you. The waiter came and took your order, and Marc reached across the table and grabbed your hand. You gently moved your hand back onto your lap as you decided to start this conversation, “Marc, I want to break up.”

“What? Are you serious? Where is this coming from?”

“Yes, I’m serious. We’re just in different places of our lives and we want different things. Why continue on when we could both be with people who are a better fit.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way. We used to have so much in common. But I won’t force you to stay in this relationship that you’ve obviously emotionally checked out of.”

“I’m going through some quarter-life crisis or something, I just feel numb. I want more in every area of my life.” You say and it’s true. That’s how you felt when you quit practicing law and pursued writing, and now you were feeling that way in your personal life. Things had to change for you or you feared you would always feel this way.

“Tell me the truth, was it always about the money? Because it seems pretty clear that you were fine until you didn’t need my wallet anymore.” He says in a tone that is particularly vexing. Well, now you are feeling something: anger, how dare he suggest that? But you also really don’t want to fight, you really just want this to be over.

“No, it was never about the money with you. If you have to ask that, then you really don’t know me at all.” You ask the waiter for the check. Marc stares at you blankly but with tears in his eyes. You don’t make eye contact as you tell him, “Don’t worry, I’ll get the check this time.”

You feel like a weight has been lifted off your chest as you watch him walk away. It wasn’t a bad relationship, it taught you about yourself and a part of you would always care for Marc, but you couldn’t continue it. You were going to better yourself in every way: eat healthier, exercise, see your therapist again, meditate, and put yourself out there.

The room was bubbling with champagne, snacks, and chatter. You’re feeling a bit overwhelmed by this Women’s networking event, it was a gathering of young women in the city seeking professional and personal development. Or at least that’s what the social media for this event promised. There were fashion designers, entrepreneurs, women in finance, and doctors, it was a melting pot of women in various fields. You’re not sure where to go first, so you take your champagne and head over to the food. When you get to the table, you see two people talking: a man with dark blonde hair, sharply dressed, and a woman with brunette hair in a pantsuit.

“Oh my god, this is miserable. I feel like I’m going to pass out from all the perfume. This is how I imagine the Moulin Rouge originally smelt.” The man says and you have to hold yourself back from laughing at his comment.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad. It could be way worse.” The woman says back to him as she puts something on her plate. You finally speak up saying, “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks this networking is far from ‘empowering’ or engaging.”

The man says introduces himself as Elijah, and the woman introduces herself as Marnie. The three of you stand back at the food table talking for most of the event. You find out that Elijah has done acting and dancing, has dated a Dil Harcourt, and that Marnie has a degree in art but also is a singer-songwriter, even though she split from her husband and musical partner. Elijah talks about his place on India Street, which he shared with his ex-girlfriend, who is Marnie’s best friend. Marnie says she moved back to the city from helping her friend raise her baby upstate. You all agree to ditch this event and go grab coffee. You feel like this is the start of friendship.

[mingiswow]

07 | Blood Princess

Pairing: RM x reader, OT7 x reader

Genre: Mafia!au

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of rape, mentions of violence, suggestive themes

Word count: + 2.8k

A/N: It took me forever to write this one between lots of things happening. Sorry it took so long and I hope you like it ❤

The day went by rather quick as you and Taehyung went shopping, Jimin and Jungkook following you. The man took you to the most expensive and fancy stores you could ever imagine. You tried the most exquisite and luxurious dresses you could ever wonder of wearing. The fanciest, comfortable and soft fabrics made all around the world, Italy, India, Thailand, Germany, Brazil, you name it. 

Jimin and Jungkook were supposed to keep an eye on you, but they were too lost in their little flirting game. You haven’t figured out if they were too friendly and clingy with each other, if they were too oblivious of their own feelings, if they didn’t want to ruin their friendship nor the things inside the gang, or if they were desperately trying to get into each others’ pants. Either way, it kinda annoyed you, not because it was something that bothered you, but because you couldn’t handle the fact they were losing time with these little games.

You looked your reflection in the mirror of the fitting room for the thousandth time on that afternoon, Taehyung promised it was the last store you guys would go. The Alexander McQueen dress looked gorgeous on you and hugged just right all the curves you’ve gained over the days you’ve stayed at the BTS’ house. 

“Holy shit” the boy coughed on his whiskey when you came out of the fitting room, his eyes shining as your cheeks became pink. “You’re looking like a fine rare diamond” he grabbed your hand, making you turn 360º. “Boss won’t be able to keep his eyes off you”.

“Tae~ssi” you objected, looking at the ground, making the boy laugh.

“Or his hands…” he lightly slapped your butt, making you squeal and look at him with threatening eyes, making him laugh even more at you. “Like nobody can’t notice the sexual tension every time you are in the same room”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you pretended that wasn’t true when everybody knew that, at least from your side, the attraction was real. “He is my leader, nothing more”.

“Sure” Jungkook appeared, a bra placed on his chest on top of his clothes and Jimin with a leopard-printed Beret on his head. “C’mon, Y/N, you guys fuck each other with your eyes”.

“I thought you were about to fuck right on the tatami in front of us this morning” Jimin complemented.

“Yah~ guys! Even if there were sexual tension between us, nothing can and won’t ever happen. Nam… RM is my boss, my Don, I can’t trespass that relationship” your voice sounded sadder than you wished. 

Sure, Namjoon was a handsome and charming man, he took care of you when he could do what everyone else did, like every other mafia leader does. But no, he was caring, worried, sweet with you. And you were sure that everything you were feeling was just a reflex of this treatment you were receiving from him. You weren’t falling for him. You couldn’t fall for him.

“I’ll take this one” you announced, leaving the pitiful eyes of the men.

You left the breath you were holding, a single tear falling. You weren’t sure why you were crying, why you felt such a tight hold on your chest, but the sensation was too much and you had to give all the strength in your body to leave the booth.

Jungkook entered the fitting room, finding you almost fully dressed, only the shoes missing. The young man didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to, and hugged you tight, his hands, holding your body tight, comforting you as you cried on his chest. You let yourself go embraced by the friend.

There was so much happening in your life lately, it was all so tiring and overwhelming and breathtaking, but not in a good way. All you wanted was a time machine so you could turn back time to when you were a kid, so you could’ve disobeyed your parents and went to your friend’s house to play so you wouldn’t be home that fateful day, when everything started to get wrong, when your life turned upside down. And now you were stuck with this life, being this cold-blooded killer everyone is afraid, being forced to stop studying what you love the most, not being able to properly love someone without fearing the consequences of your actions.

You were so buried on the younger’s chest that you didn’t notice the other boys presence, surrounding you with their warmth and affection. You never had any friends before, you never had affection, you never had love. But now, these boys were providing you with it. The countless nights playing video games or watching some movie or just enjoying each others company, slumber parties filled with happiness, loud laughs that earned scolds from Suga or Jin, and junk food. You didn’t want anything complicated, just a normal life.

“How about we buy some silly stuff? Yeah?” Jimin asked, his hand wrapping around your waist as soon as Jungkook left you. “We have the boss’ black card” he showed the squared plastic in his hands.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to spend the gang money on useless stuff” you replied, looking at the glow in their eyes. They never had the right to use the card and the fact that Namjoon gave to them was eating them alive, dying to spend as much money as they can.

“Yah! C’mon!” Tae shook your body, earning giggles from you, the tears long gone. “We can buy you plushies” he winked fastly, trying to charm you.

“You got me with the plushies” they hugged you, squealing of happiness. “But I want ice cream too”.

“Your wish is our command, princess” the maknae offered his arm, which you took, linking them.

The laughs echoed through the hall as you four entered the mansion. Your arms holding a big Shiba Inu plushie and a Gudetama one. Your cheeks flushed of happiness, a smile spread on your face, ear to ear, and the foremen holding the dozens bags with the purchases.

“I see the mall trip was productive” you heard his voice behind you and the little hairs behind your neck shivered. You turned around and met his glowing eyes. He looked so perfect for his own good. His tall and sleek body was dressed in a blue plaid suit, a white turtleneck shirt underneath, his long neck looking so inviting for your mouth to lay on it, his hands on his front pockets, his posture so majestic, as always. His hair was perfectly combed back, a few strands falling on his forehead. You wondered how someone could look so pretty. Namjoon left a chuckle when he noticed you staring at him and took his thumb to your lips, wiping a bit of melted ice cream that laid on the corner of them. “You look like a kid” his finger caressed your cheeks and a heat took over your body. You were sure you were red as a tomato.

“For the bags Dan and the boys are holding, I guess she found not only the right outfit but the whole store too” Jin, that you even noticed was behind the boss with Yoongi, said while peaking inside the bags.

“I sent the maid to your room to help you get ready” Yoongi said while leading the men holding your bags to your room. “She’s making a bubble bath and a few facial treatments for you”.

“That’s not needed” you sounded embarrassed, you never had those things, you always were independent when it came to those things. And, to be honest, you never really cared about those things, except at college, nobody saw your face, so why use makeup all the time? “I’m sure she has more important things to do”.

“Besides” Jungkook wrapped an arm around you. “I can help her”.

“WE” Taehyung wrapped his arm on your other side, sandwiching you. You smiled looking at them and nodded.

“They’re guys” Namjoon calmly said, but you could notice the fidgeting of his hands inside the pockets.

“And what about that?” Jungkook replied, an evil smirk playing on his lips. “You never minded being helped by women” the leader’s eyes landed on you waiting for your reaction but you tried to keep your cool, not showing to be affected by that information.

“Fine. But you need to get her ready by ten” the tall man simply replied. Turning around and leaving you alone.

“I swear to God you’ll kill RM before he gets the chance to put his hands on you” Jimin said, a mischievous grin on his lips as he shook his head in denial. “Ok, let’s do this” he rubbed his hands together, excited with the whole situation. “You’re gorgeous but we’re going to make you look burning hot” he slapped her butt as he passed, laughing loudly at her reaction.

The four friends rumed to the girl’s room, finding the bags set on her bed and also the ground, a bath running with a few different bath bombs and bath salts by the side, brand new makeup still packed on the top of her dressing table, the lights around the mirror already turned on. The atmosphere and the smell of the place were incredibly calm, the dim lights making everything seem a little sensual.

You got yourself wondering what Namjoon was planning for the night, making your stomach twitch, and the mind-sight of him in a suit with his usual glass of scotch on the blinding triggering lights of the club made your legs wobble. The power that man had upon you was unbelievable, even just the thought of him made you all blushy and warm, like you could feel his burning fingertips touching lightly your skin. 

Jungkook touched your shoulder, making the image dissipate out of your mind and you look at him, the tip your ears red and a shy smile on your lips. The boy shook his head, he knew you well enough to know you were thinking about your boss. Again.

He led you to the bathtub where Jimin prepared the water with something that smelled like milk and lavender, extremely intoxicating. They left you alone so you could undress and drown your body in the warm scented water. Your muscles relaxing like there was someone massaging every single one of your muscles, releasing the knots of tension built up in your shoulders.

“Can we come in?” Jungkook’s voice was muffled behind the door. You didn’t have the strength to say anything, just to enjoy the feeling and hum to them.

“I can see you’re enjoying it” Taehyung sat by your side on the ground, playing with the opaque white and lilac water. You nodded, not worrying with opening your eyes.

“I want to stay here forever” you embraced yourself, finally opening your eyes. You looked at the boys next to you, smiling at them. “I love you so much, guys” you send them a finger heart, earning giggles and more finger hearts from the boys, Jungkook kissing your forehead.

The amount of trust you had in those boys was out of this world. Sure, you like the other ones too, Namjoon especially, but Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook were your musketeers, your loyal boys. Your best friends. If anything goes wrong you knew you had someone to rely on on the last moments of your life, you knew that you had three boys that cheered you, made you happy and, more than anything, loved you.

The gang was tight, that was undeniable, but sometimes the boys felt like it was just business. And Y/N came to shake things up, bring new experiences, new feelings, change the mood of the seven. She did a Feng Shui in the gang. And nobody was complaining.

The maknae grew so much on her ever since they started to investigate her, discovering how their past was similar, how they both had terrible childhoods and families. How destiny was a bitch to them and made two innocent kids become something that was beyond their comprehension, beyond what a kid was supposed to know. He was the one who captured you and, to be honest, you were glad.

Jimin was the one that made you feel like a kid again, made you feel like you still could be a kid sometimes. He would secretly buy ice cream, candies and junk food, bring silly movies and spend the night doing nothing but laughing at stupid scenes and commenting on how this actor was pretty or that one was bad at acting. He would randomly appear at your bedroom with a new plushie and a bright smile on his beautiful plump lips. I thought of you, noona. He would say and show you a stuffed version of a character you two saw in a movie you watched a week before or something pink and cute or even some new sparkly pocket knife because he thinks you are cutely mortal.

While Tae was your cult friend, the one you’d sit in front of the fireplace with a wine glass talking about some random piece of art until you two dissected a whole period of art through history. He even gave you an original stolen painting of René Magritte, your favorite painter of all time. The boy would take you to museums and art exhibitions and spent hour talking about the artists, their lives and their art. If not, he would take you to mall trips, helping you buy clothes - since you never did it - and choosing what color best suits you. He even helped you buy new lingerie, for christ sake. Then you two would put a show to the other two, showing them everything you bought and earning applause, whistles, and cheers.

And you were the cherry on top, together you were best friends, gang friends, killer friends, the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. You were undefeatable together.

“We love you too, baby, but you need to get ready or boss will kill all of us” Taehyung said finishing to massage the hydrating mask he was applying on your face.

“Chimiii, tell Tae I don’t want to go” you whined, pouting like a little kid, hugging your body like it was going to prevent you to be taken out of the bath.

“I’m sorry, noona, but he’s right” the boy played with your hair. “We need to get you perfect for tonight. We know that boss is going to use you as a living bait so you need to be prepared if you have to fight” you nodded sadly. 

“We know you don’t want this life anymore but just for now you have to help us” Jungkook handed you a towel and turned around so you could get out of the bathtub. The others imitating his gesture. “I’ll make a promise to you. After Papa and his gang are down, you’ll be free”.

“You can’t make promises you can’t keep, Jungoo” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging his broad body from behind. “I know you want my best but now that my secret is out, I’m not safe anymore” he gently caressed your arms. “Sometimes I wish I could go back to university, you know? Keep studying have a normal life, a normal job, so I could get off this shit. And I wish I could take you all with me” you kissed his back and he turned around, wrapping you up in his body. He kissed your nose and hugged you tight. He understood you more than anyone.

“I know. But, for now, we need to live this life, yeah?” he nudged his nose on your hair. “And now we need to get your pretty ass ready for the damn club” you nodded and he let you go of his embrace and a cold wind flew over your body. You wanted to stay all night cuddled up with your best friend.

“Can you guys come too?” you asked, walking towards Taehyung, that was waiting to start doing your makeup.

“We wanted, but these type of stuff and business is only with boss and hyungs” Jimin answered, wrapped up in the fake fur coat you bought to use. “You’ll look so damn hot in this outfit, noona” he commented, looking at the clothes and accessories sprawled over your bed.

“I hope so. I don’t want to disappoint boss” Taehyung was already priming your face.

“That I can promise that you won’t” Jungkook spoke, an eyebrow raised and a devil smirk on his lips.

“She could appear naked in front of him that he would still think she is a perfect princess” Jimin hugged his friend, starting to play with his hair. 

“He’d like even more” the three boys laughed.

“Oh, fuck off you bitches” you tried to sound angry but soon was laughing with them, trying to forget the butterflies in your stomach getting more excited with every second getting closer to 10PM.

Taglist:  @mydearling @girlsloveglitter @ireallylikefoodandyoutube@somaticc @xcharlottemikaelsonx

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[save-the-spiral]

InkWizTober Day Twenty: Tread + Sleeping In

Welcome to Inktober Day Twenty! This is basically just a sapphic love poem masquerading as prose. I did a tiny bit of research, if any of my lil hints of things were wrong please tell me. I have never traveled, T_T

(link to prompt lists) (link to inktober tag)

Mari woke up to a soft kiss on her bare shoulder, loose t-shirt fabric bunched down her arm, her brown skin on display. Her confused mumble are muffled by her pillow. 

“Good morning sunshine.” Irisi’s teasing voice, Krokotopian accent thicker with sleepiness, was the siren song that truly woke Mari.

Rolling over in their huge shared sleeping bag, Mari kissed Irisi, missing a bit so it was only half her mouth, but they both huffed with amusement at Mari’s clumsiness. Irisi was already dressed for the day of hiking, her tank-top leaving freckled, toned arms bare and making Mari stare far too obviously.

“C’mon, Mari. I made breakfast already. We gotta get going if we don’t wanna miss the sunrise.”

Mari groaned, rolling over and flopping against her pillow pathetically. “Remind me why I let you drag me out in the middle of the Japanese wilderness?”

“Emrys wanted to go to all those museums to learn about his culture and you didn’t wanna stick around for when he looked for his biological dad, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah. He didn’t want us around either.” Mari got up, accepting her fate, and rummaged through her duffel bag for proper clothes. Camping in Japan was amazing, the spring blooms making every view gorgeous, every moment worth staying in forever. 

Their tour of Earth had started in America, where they had some connections, and they quickly got what they needed to forge passports and such to be able to get to where they wanted to go. They toured Europe, then traveled around northern Africa and lingered around Egypt, where Irisi was fascinated by such a similar culture to her own. Then it was India, where Mari wanted to stay forever, to really learn and exist where she came from, to be absorbed in the very ground there and become one with it. 

India was Mari’s favorite. She convinced them to stay for the whole winter, only leaving after Holi.

Now they were in Japan, and Emrys, her brother, was more closed off than ever, trying to understand the hurt that lead to him being left alone by his parents. Trying to understand what it actually is to be half Japanese, besides something he can idly mention when talking to close friends about Earth. Then they’d go to South Korea, Emrys’ other half, and he’d start all over again over there, except hopefully the reunion with his mother would be better.

In Mari’s opinion, his biological parents didn’t deserve to see what an amazing, intelligent man they missed out on raising. Irisi insisted that would be rude to say.

Mari looked into her backpack to find it full of the supplies they’d need today for their hike. She’d have to nag Irisi about getting more sleep later, her girlfriend had a habit of waking too early and not even trying to sleep again.

She grabbed Irisi’s jacket, and once she pushed out of the tents’ flaps, threw it at her girlfriend. 

“It’s not a desert here, you’ll catch your death.” Mari said tensely, trying not to snap with her own tiredness.

“Someone’s bright eyed and busy tailed.” Irisi muttered, snorting as she shrugged the jacket on in the pitch blackness of the morning.

Mari laughed, nudging Irisi with her hip as she pushed past her to look at their little food set up. “Tofu breakfast burrito? You spoil me.” 

Irisi kissed her on the cheek, passing by to grab her own bag. “Anything for you.” 

They worked together to pack up the tent and their chairs, all without any magic to aid them. When their contact got them to Earth, they were told to never use magic unless a life was on the line. Unfortunately, carrying their heavy camping gear up a mountain didn’t count.

It was still hard to see, and they had to use flashlights to navigate in the darkness. Mari sometimes was passively able to shift nature to their advantage, instinct over need causing it. Ambient magic seemed to pulse off of her as she got more and more into her element, reveling in the beauty around her, how it was all so alive, new and growing.

She and Irisi rarely talked on their hikes. It was almost meditative, and a kind of peace settled over Mari that she hadn’t felt in years. Not since her quiet youth of gardening in Mooshu, of always sunny days and no quests to save worlds.

Maybe Japan was her second favorite country.

They got to a flattened out seating area along the trail, not the top of the mountain, but near enough that the air felt thinner than usual. A campsite would be nearby, and they’d set up for the day, but for now, they’d rest on this little sanctuary within the sanctuary of Mount Takao. 

Lazy dawn light was beginning to show, pale and shy. Irisi grinned, almost throwing down her bags and going to sit closest to the ledge, back against one of the concrete foundations of the picnic tables. Mari sighed, but settled her stuff down next to Irisi’s, grabbing the bag for camping chairs and also their fluffiest blanket from Switzerland. 

Being the sensible one was exhausting. Mari now knew why she never bothered before.

“Mari! Come on!” Irisi yelled, disturbing some birds.

Mari set out the chairs, popping them into place and looking at Irisi. “Slouching against concrete isn’t good for your back.” 

Irisi snorted, but upon seeing the blanket she got in her maroon camping chair and wiggled in it to move closer, making silly grabby hands at the blanket Mari had. 

They leaned together, Irisi resting her head on Mari’s shoulder, now fully cuddled into their blanket. Pinks began to light up on the horizon, the canopy of trees below a mesh of greens with patches of pink from cherry blossoms. 

Mari was transfixed. The sunrise filled her with the same awe that hollowed out her chest like New Years fireworks, like joyful children painting each other every color possible in the streets of New Delhi, like the pyramids of Giza, like seeing Irisi for the first time.

It was amazing in a whole new definition, taking her perspective and twisting it artfully, a wire sculpture of geometry she couldn’t even understand, in a dimension beyond her own three.

It felt spiritual, and before this trip she had only idly considered those kinds of things.

Warm tears traced lines down her cheeks, nothing but two twin tree trunks, two blades of grass, two stems to alien flowers. Magic and something she couldn’t name swirled within her, soft and welcoming, like coming home again and again.

Mari wanted to travel forever. To find every one of these moments and crystallize them in her memory, make them something tangible and real. She wanted to bring them back to the magical side of the Spiral, shove them in wizards’ faces and ask why they thought magic was what made them worthy, when no magic could make this kind of moment.

Irisi was snoring softly on her shoulder, and the sun was continuing to rise, the pretty colors gone, leaving only beautiful blues. Mari rested her head against Irisi’s, knowing she’d probably have a crick in her neck later, but let herself fall endlessly into a soft warm sleep.

They’d sleep for a few more hours, lovely and delicate, whole and there as two people in love could be.

[strikes-goyle]

Coming Home, Part 2|| Goyle Brothers|| Self-Para

The time seemed to move so quickly and before he knew it, the pin heads were leaving the bowling alley. His team had rightly assumed Goyle had more pressing family matters to deal with and it all seemed serious, so they scratched the rest of his turns.

“Audios, mate,” they waved as they left in small groups, chatting about the scores, who did the best, what the plans were for next week. Some of them were on their way to the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate, and eventually they all disappeared. 

The bartop had collected a bunch of empty glasses as the boys continued to catch up. It was amazing how easily things fell back into rhythm. Amazing, because Ramsey couldn’t remember them ever chatting like this when they were younger. He’d always wished he had this kind relationship, but he’d been much too young to relate to his then teenage brother. He hadn’t ever been anything more than a nuisance. 

There were times on family trips and in the summer when they’d bonded and gotten close, but it was always only for a short time, before his brother “needed space” from him. Ramsey had never understood what Arthur needed space from. He hadn’t understood the moodiness and sudden distance that came when Arthur lashed out with annoyance. 

“I fink I wore out yer Twisted Pumpkin shirt a while back.” Ramsey confessed with a laugh. There had been a time when his mother got rid of Arthur’s old clothes, it was like he’d died. Contrary to whatever Arthur seemed to believe, that wasn’t till many years later; After the hopes of his return seemed foolish and it was too hard to pass his room day in and day out. 

“Glad someone got some use out of it,“ Arthur smirked. 

“Well yah, theres no chance yer getting it back now,” Ramsey teased. “Nor your old room. Thats mine forever now!” He easily fell back into his role of being the annoying younger brother. 

Ramsey was too wrapped up with excitement to notice Arthur’s laughter slowly dying away. It had started to dawn on him that his younger brother had misunderstood his return. Ramsey had always been naive ever since he was little. Arthur had assumed his brother would have grown out of it by now. Arthur seemed to forget Ramsey was just barely 22, and still very much a baby. 

“Thats fine,” Arthur tried to keep up with the teasing. “You can have it.”

“Lots of things ‘ave changed round the ‘ouse too, you’ll be surprised.” Ramsey continued chatting away, growing more and more drunk. He never drank vodka and it was hitting him hard. 

“Rammy..” Arthur knew he couldn’t keep his brother in the dark. It wasn’t fair to him. 

“Oh I took yer bed too, ha! You’ll get the tiny shitty one in the old shed. You know that old ‘ Wand Hunters’ record, you’ll never guess. I sold that and got 25 galleons. Some idiot gave me 25 galleons fer that piece of crap, don’t even work straight, you wore ‘er right out an––”

“Ramsey.” Arthur cut him off. 

“What?” Ramsey laughed and shrugged at his brother’s change in tone, taking a sip. “You weren' ere so I sold it... It wasn’t one of the good ones, it was the one with the big scratch from when I snuck into your room and stepped on the end.” 

“Murphy, Ramsey! You can talk an ear off a witch when you’re drunk.” Arthur gave an amused sigh at his younger brother. Ramsey shrugged again, grinning happily as he finished his pint. 

“I’m not coming home.” Arthur confessed. The words hit Ramsey like a thousand brooms. His face didn’t skip a beat however and he kept his smile where it was. 

“Oh, I know that,” Ramsey nodded, lying through his teeth. He hadn’t known. He’d thought.. He’d hoped... What was all this if it wasn’t a home coming?

“I’m not here to come home...” Arthur repeated, trying to read his brother’s face. He’d always been so easy to read. Ramsey had always worn his heart on his sleeve. It was one of the best and worst thing about the guy. 

“I know,” Ramsey nodded, still smiling. “I know that...” His voice faltered at the end and he quickly took a sip from his pint. His smile was turning into a grimace, so he dropped it. He’d been sucked in. Arthur had come back, gotten everything off his chest, so he could go back to fucking India with a clear conscience. Whereas Ramsey, idiotically hadn’t gotten anything off his chest. He’d forgiven him in an instant, won over by a couple of drinks and basking in the attention from his older brother. Ramsey shrugged, pulling his pint away from his mouth for a second before going back at it. He didn’t know what else to do with his face.  Arthur watched his brother, knowing he’d just hurt him. Maybe it would have been better for all of them if he’d just stayed away? 

“I just thought that while I was here for work, I’d look you up. I really wanted to see you, I missed you so much and I wanted to see what you were up to these days,” Arthur explained. 

“No, no, I get it,” Ramsey nodded, forcing a smile. His eyes told another story but his pride forced his face to remain unfazed by the news. “I missed you too, I’m glad you did.” It was the truth, though he didn’t feel very glad right now. “You’ve gotta go back..” 

Arthur sat silently, turning back to drink his pint.  

“Its s’alright,” Ramsey shrugged. It wasn’t alright. Nothing was alright. He shrugged again. 

“Rammy..” Arthur sighed. 

“No, no..” Ramsey shook his head. “We’re good mate.” He gulped the last of his pint. “You obviously got what you wanted ‘ere.” He got to his feet, refusing to look at him. 

When they were young Arthur had always taken after their mother, and Ramsey their father. Now though, Ramsey was the spitting image of their mum. And had obviously mastered her stonewall. 

“He’s got this, ey,” Ramsey gestured to their collection of empties to the bartender, who just nodded. 

“Rammy, c’mon.” Arthur reached to grab his brother’s arm. 

Ramsey whipped around and snatched his arm from the other man. “Don’t touch me.” he growled, ready to smack his brother across the mouth with a fist. 

The look took Arthur by surprise and he immediately dropped his hand. His younger brother was not little anymore, and could certainly take him in a fight by the looks of it. He never knew Ramsey as a fighter though. Things had changed.

[gaysparklepires]

8. Temper

We ended up on the beach again, wandering aimlessly. Jacob was still full of himself for engineering my escape.

“Do you think they’ll come looking for you?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“No.” I was certain about that. “They’re going to be furious with me tonight, though.”

He picked up a rock and chucked it into the waves. “Don’t go back, then,” he suggested again.

“Charlie would love that,” I said sarcastically.

“I bet he wouldn’t mind.”

I didn’t answer. Jacob was probably right. Charlie wasn’t subtle about his preference for my Quileute friends. I wondered if he would feel the same if he knew the choice was really between vampires and werewolves.

“So what’s the latest pack scandal?” I asked lightly.

Jacob skidded to a halt, and he stared down at me with shocked eyes.

“What? That was a joke.”

“Oh.” He looked away.

I waited for him to start walking again, but he seemed lost in thought.

“Is there a scandal?” I wondered.

Jacob chuckled once. “I forget what it’s like, not having everyone know everything all the time. Having a quiet, private place inside my head.”

We walked along the stony beach quietly for a few minutes.

“So what is it?” I finally asked. “That everyone in your head already knows?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren’t sure how much he was going to tell me. Then he sighed and said, “Quil found someone. That’s three now. The rest of us are starting to get worried. Maybe there is some sort of connection thing…” He frowned, and then turned to stare at me. He gazed into my eyes without speaking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“What are you staring at?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

He sighed. “Nothing.”

Jacob started walking again. Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and took my hand. We paced silently across the rocks.

I thought of how we must look walking hand and hand down the beach—like a couple, certainly—and wondered if I should object. But this was the way it had always been with Jacob… No reason to get worked up about it now.

“Why is Quil finding someone such a scandal?” I asked when it didn’t look like he was going to go on. “Is it because he’s the newest one?”

“Honestly, Beau, it was mostly because of the conversation you and I had about Sam, Emily, and Liam.”

“Oh…” I felt a tinge of guilt. “I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“It just made me wonder if there really was something about being a werewolf that made us fall in love with people or if Sam was just saying all that to make himself feel better. Then it made all the others wonder the same thing…” He trailed off.

“What do you think?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know, it could just be a coincidence that Quil met someone. I mean, we all know each other’s thoughts—we know exactly what Quil was thinking and we still can’t tell if he fell in love or if something made him fall in love.” He sighed. “Either way, if there is something that makes us fall in love then we don’t really have any free will, do we?” I could hear the frustration in his voice. “But then, if there’s not, that makes Sam kind of a jerk. Still, how are we supposed to ignore his sacrifice? He gave up so much for the pack, we’d be complete jerks if we were ever selfish about something and put our needs in front of the pack.”

We walked in silence for a moment, till I paused to toss a rock toward the ocean. It fell to the beach several meters short. Jacob laughed at me.

“We can’t all be freakishly strong,” I muttered.

He sighed.

“Do you think—if it’s real—it’ll happen to you?” I asked quietly.

His answer was flat and immediate. “Never.”

“But is it something you can control?”

He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all.

“If it’s even a real thing,” he finally said. “If it’s some bogus love-at-first-sight thing, I guess it’s not something that can be controlled. Sam reasons that it’s finding your soul-mate—the person meant for you.”

“Maybe you just haven’t seen the person meant for you.” I offered. “Jacob, you haven’t really seen much of the world—less than me, even.”

“No, I haven’t,” he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing yes. “But I’ll never see anyone else, Beau. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or Embry. It drives them all crazy.”

I dropped my eyes to the rocks.

We weren’t walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn’t hear the rain over their roar.

“Maybe I’d better go home,” I whispered.

“No!” he protested, surprised by my conclusion.

I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now.

“You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won’t be home yet.”

I glared at him.

“Sorry, sorry. No offense intended,” he said quickly.

“Yes, I have the whole day. But, Jake…”

He held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t be like that anymore. I’ll just be Jacob.”

I sighed. “But if that’s what you’re thinking…”

“Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. “I know what I’m doing. Just tell me if I’m upsetting you.”

“You’re not upsetting me, Jake.” I admitted. “I’m just… worried about where things might go if we’re not careful.”

“C’mon, babe. Don’t think about that.”

“But what if everything gets ruined?” I said softly.

“It won’t. I promise.” He gently took my hand. “I’ll be Jacob, you’ll be Beau, and we’ll always be friends.” He smiled.

“Okay, Jake.”

“So let’s go back to the house and get our bikes. You’ve got to ride a motorcycle regularly to keep it in tune.”

“I really don’t think I’m allowed.”

“By who? Charlie or the blood—or him?”

“Both.”

Jacob grinned my grin, and suddenly he was the Jacob I missed the most, sunny and warm.

I couldn’t help grinning back.

The rain softened, turned to mist.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.

“Except every one of your friends.”

He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. “I promise not to think about it.”

I laughed. “If I get hurt, it was because I tripped.”

“Whatever you say.”

 We rode our motorcycles on the back roads around La Push until the rain made them too muddy and Jacob insisted that he was going to pass out if he didn’t eat soon. Billy greeted me easily when we got to the house, as if my sudden reappearance meant nothing more complicated than that I’d wanted to spend the day with a friend. After we ate the sandwiches Jacob made, we went out to the garage and I helped him clean up the bikes. I hadn’t been there in months—since Edward had returned—but there was no sense of import to it. It was just another afternoon in the garage.

“This is nice,” I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. “I’ve missed this place.”

He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. “Yeah, I can understand that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India.”

“To Washington’s little Taj Mahal,” I toasted, holding up my can.

He touched his can to mine.

“You’re getting really good at riding your bike, Beau.” Jacob grinned. “Have you been practicing behind my back?”

“Not even!” I laughed.

“If someone had told me back when we first started riding that you’d be this good at it someday, I would have laughed in their face!” He chuckled. “Say, do you remember last Valentine’s Day? I think that was the last time you were here—the last time when things were still… normal, I mean.”

I laughed. “Of course, I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That’s not something I’m likely to forget.

He laughed with me. “That’s right. Hmm, servitude. I’ll have to think of something good.” Then he sighed. “It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one.”

I couldn’t disagree with him. Yes, I was happy now, but I was surprised to realize how many things I missed from those days. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had picked up again, but it was warm in this little garage, sitting next to Jacob. He was as good as a furnace.

His fingers brushed my hand. “Things have really changed.”

“Yeah,” I said, and then I reached out and patted the back tire of my bike. “Charlie used to like me. I hope Billy doesn’t say anything about today…” I bit my lip.

“He won’t. He doesn’t get worked up about things the way Charlie does. Hey, I never did apologize officially for that stupid move with the bike. I’m real sorry about ratting you out to Charlie. I wish I hadn’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “Me, too.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

He looked at me hopefully, his wet, tangled black hair sticking up in every direction around his handsome, pleading face.

“Oh, fine! You’re forgiven.”

“Thanks, babe!”

We grinned at each other for a second, and then his face clouded over.

“You know that day, when I brought the bike over… I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he said slowly. “But also… not wanting to.”

I held very still—a reaction to stress. It was a habit I’d picked up from Edward.

“Were you just being stubborn because you were mad at me, or were you really serious?” he whispered.

“About what?” I whispered back, though I was sure I knew what he meant.

He glared at me. “You know. When you said it was none of my business… if—if he bit you.” He cringed visibly at the end.

“Jake…” My throat felt swollen. I couldn’t finish.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Were you serious?”

He was trembling just slightly. His eyes stayed closed.

“It’s complicated, Jake, but yes,” I whispered.

Jacob inhaled, slow and deep. “I guess I knew that.”

I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.

“You know what this will mean?” He demanded suddenly. “You do understand that, don’t you? What will happen if they break the treaty?”

“We’ll leave first,” I said in a small voice.

His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. “There wasn’t a geographic limit to the treaty, Beau. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were different, that humans weren’t in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other vampires. Once that’s established, when we find them again—“

“But, Jake, didn’t you break the treaty already?” I asked, grasping at straws. “Wasn’t part of it that you not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn’t the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?”

Jacob didn’t like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. “Yeah, I broke the treaty—back before I believed any of it. And I’m sure they were informed of that.” He glared sourly at my forehead, not meeting my shamed gaze. “But it’s not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There’s no fault for a fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we’ll have when they break the treaty: to attack. To start the war.”

He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered.

“Jake, it doesn’t have to be that way.”

His teeth ground together. “It is that way.”

The silence after his declaration felt very loud.

“Would you ever forgive me, Jacob?” I whispered. As soon as I said the words, I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to hear his answer.

“You won’t be Beau anymore,” he told me. “My friend won’t exist. There’ll be no one to forgive.”

“That sounds like a no,” I whispered.

We faced each other for an endless moment.

“Is this goodbye then, Jake?”

He blinked rapidly, his fierce expression melting in surprise. “Why? We still have a few years. Can’t we be friends until we’re out of time?”

“Years? Maybe. Could be years, Jake.” I shook my head, and laughed once without humor. “Could be weeks.”

I was not expecting his reaction.

He was suddenly on his feet, and there was a loud pop as the soda can exploded in his hand. Soda flew everywhere, soaking me, like it was spraying from a hose.

“Jake!” I started to complain, but I fell silent when I realized that his whole body was quivering with anger. He glared at me wildly, a growling sound building in his chest.

I froze in place, too shocked to remember how to move.

The shaking rolled through him, getting faster, until it looked like he was vibrating. His shape blurred…

And then Jacob gritted his teeth together, and the growling stopped. He squeezed his eyes tight in concentration; the quivering slowed until only his hands were shaking.

“Weeks,” Jacob said in a flat monotone.

I couldn’t respond; I was still frozen.

He opened his eyes. They were beyond fury now.

“He’s going to change you into a filthy bloodsucker in just a few weeks!” Jacob hissed through his teeth.

Too stunned to take offense at his words, I just shrugged mutely.

His face turned green under the russet skin.

“Jake, please,” I whispered after a long minute of silence. “It’s complicated. I wish I could explain it to you, but I can’t. It’s… complicated. What else can I do?”

I’d meant that as a rhetorical question.

His words cracked like snaps of a whip. “Anything. Anything else. You’d be better off dead. I’d rather you were.”

I recoiled like he’d slapped me. It hurt worse than if he had.

And then, as the pain shot through me, my own temper burst into flame.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” I said bleakly, lurching to my feet. “Maybe I’ll get hit by a truck on my way back.”

I grabbed my motorcycle and pushed it out into the rain. He didn’t move as I passed him. As soon as I was on the small, muddy path, I climbed on and kicked the back to life. The rear tire spit a fountain of mud toward the garage, and I hoped that it hit him.

I got absolutely soaked as I sped across the slick highway toward the Cullens’ house. The wind felt like it was freezing the rain against my skin, and my teeth were chattering before I was halfway there.

But I didn’t care. It felt cleansing, almost. Racing along the highway. I decided the bike was going to stay with me for a long time.

I walked the bike into the Cullens’ cavernous garage and was unsurprised to find Alice waiting for me, perched lightly on the hood of her Porsche. Alice stroked the glossy yellow paint.

“I haven’t even had a chance to drive it.” She sighed.

“Don’t worry,” I shuddered through my rattling teeth, “I won’t let him take it away from you.”

“You look like you could use a hot shower,” she said springing lightly to her feet.

“Yep.”

She pursed her lips, taking in my expression carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

She nodded in assent, but her eyes were raging with curiosity.

“Do you want to go to Olympia tonight?”

“Not really. Can’t I go home?”

She grimaced.

“Never mind, Alice,” I said. “I’ll stay. It’ll make things easier for you.”

“Thanks,” she sighed in relief.

I took a hot shower and went to bed early that night, curling up on Edward’s sofa again.

It was still dark when I woke. I was groggy, but I knew it wasn’t near morning yet. My eyes closed, and I stretched, rolling over. It took me a second before I realized that the movement should have dumped me onto the floor. And that I was much too comfortable.

I rolled back over, trying to see. It was darker than last night—the clouds were too thick for the moon to shine through.

“Sorry,” he murmured so softly that his voice was part of the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I tensed, waiting for the fury—both his and mine—but it was only quiet and calm in the darkness of his room. There was no friction in the space between us. The stillness was peaceful—not like the calm before the tempest, but like a clear night untouched by even the dream of a storm.

And I didn’t care that I was supposed to be angry with him. It had been a long, emotional day, and I didn’t have the energy. I sighed and reached out for him, found his hands in the darkness, and pulled myself closer to him. His arms encircled me, cradling me to his chest.

I felt his lips gently kiss along my cheek, down to my lips. He kissed me softly for a moment, and then he chuckled.

“I was all braced for the wrath that was going to put grizzlies to shame, and this is what I get? I should infuriate you more often.”

“Give me a minute to work up to it,” I grumbled, and kissed him.

“I’ll wait as long as you want,” he whispered against my lips. His fingers knotted in my hair.

My breath caught. “Maybe in the morning.”

“Whatever you prefer.”

“You’re not completely off the hook,” I said while his cold lips pressed under my jaw. “So don’t get too comfortable.”

“Yes, sir.” He breathed against my neck.

“I mean it,” I said, feeling my back arch as a tingle ran down my spine.

His hand curved around my elbow, moving slowly down my arm, across my ribs and over my waist, tracing along my hip and down my leg, around my knee. He paused there, his hand curling around my calf. He pulled my leg up suddenly, hitching it around his hip.

I stopped breathing. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually allowed. Despite his cold hands, I felt suddenly warm. His lips moved to the hollow at the base of my throat.

“Not to bring on the ire prematurely,” he whispered, “but do you mind telling me what it is about this bed that you object to?”

Before I could answer, before I could even concentrate enough to make sense of his words, he rolled to the side, pulling me on top of him. He held my face in his hands, angling it up so that his mouth could reach my throat. My breathing was too loud—it was almost embarrassing, but I couldn’t care quite enough to be ashamed.

“The bed?” he asked again. “I think it’s nice.”

“It’s unnecessary,” I managed to gasp.

He pulled my face back to his, and my lips shaped themselves around his. Slowly this time, he rolled till he hovered over me. He held himself carefully so that I felt none of his weight, but I could feel the cool marble of his body press against mine. My heart was beating so loudly that it was hard to hear his quiet laughter.

“That’s debatable,” he disagreed. “This would be difficult on a couch.”

Cold as ice, his tongue lightly traced the shape of my lips.

My head was spinning—the air was coming fast and shallow.

“Did you change your mind?” I asked breathlessly. Maybe he’d rethought all his careful rules. Maybe there was more significance to this bed than I’d originally guessed. My heart pounded almost painfully as I waited for his answer.

Edward sighed, and reluctantly rolled back so that were on our sides again.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Beau,” he said, disapproval strong in his voice—clearly, he understood what I meant. “I was just trying to illustrate the benefits of the bed you don’t seem to like. Don’t get carried away.”

“Too late,” I muttered. “And I like the bed,” I added.

“Good.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed my forehead. “I do, too.”

“But I still think it’s unnecessary,” I continued. “If we’re not going to get carried away, what’s the point?”

He sighed again. “For the hundredth time, Beau—it’s too dangerous.”

“I like danger,” I insisted.

“I know.” There was a sour edge to his voice, and I realized that he would have seen my motorcycle in the garage.

“I’ll tell you what’s dangerous,” I said quickly, before he could move to a new topic of discussion. “I’m going to spontaneously combust one of these days—and you’ll have no one but yourself to blame.”

He started to move away.

“What are you doing?” I objected.

“Protecting you from combustion. If this is too much for you…”

“Oh, shut up. I can handle it,” I insisted.

He wrapped his arms back around me.

“I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy. That wasn’t nice.”

“Actually, it was very, very nice.”

He took a deep breath, and I could hear he was fighting a smile. “Aren’t you tired? I should let you sleep.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t mind if you want to give me the wrong impression again.”

“That’s probably a bad idea. I don’t want to get carried away.”

“You don’t get carried away,” I laughed.

He chuckled. “You have no idea, Beau. It doesn’t help that you are so eager to undermine my self-control, either.”

“I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“Can I apologize?”

“For what?”

“You were angry with me, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. It’s much easier to have the proper perspective when I have you safely here.” His arms tightened around me. “I go a little berserk when I try to leave you. I don’t think I’ll go so far again. It’s not worth it.”

I smiled. “Didn’t you find any mountain lions?”

“Yes, I did, actually. Still not worth the anxiety. I’m sorry I had Alice hold you hostage, though. That was a bad idea.”

“Yes, it was.” I agreed.

“I won’t do it again.”

“Good boy,” I said easily. “But, I suppose, slumber parties do have their advantages…” I curled myself closer to him, pressing my lips into the indentation over his collarbone. “You can hold me hostage any time you want.”

“Mmm,” he moaned. “I may take you up on that.”

“So is it my turn now?”

“Your turn?” his voice was confused.

“To apologize.”

“What do you have to apologize for?”

“Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked blankly.

“No.”

It sounded like he really meant it.

I felt my eyebrows pull together. “Didn’t you see Alice when you got home?”

“Yes—why?”

“You’d better not take her Porsche back.”

“Why would I do that? It was a gift.”

I wished I could see his expression. His voice sounded as if I’d insulted him.

“Don’t you want to know what I did?” I asked, starting to be puzzled by his apparent lack of concern.

I felt him shrug. “I’m always interested in everything you do—but you don’t have to tell me unless you want to.”

“Well, I went to La Push.”

“I know.”

“And I ditched school.”

“So did I.”

I stared toward the sound of his voice, tracing his features with my fingers, trying to understand his mood. “Where did all this tolerance come from?” I demanded.

He sighed.

“I decided that you were right. My problem before was more about my… prejudice against werewolves than anything else. I’m going to try to be more reasonable and trust your judgement. If you say it’s safe, then I’ll believe you.”

“Wow.”

“And… most importantly… I’m not willing to let this drive a wedge between us.”

I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, feeling content.

“So,” he murmured in a casual tone. “Did you make plans to go back to La Push again soon?”

I didn’t answer. His question brought back the memory of Jacob’s words, and my throat was suddenly tight.

He misread my silence and the tension in my body.

“Just so I can make my own plans,” he explained quickly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hurry back because I’m sitting around waiting for you.”

“No,” I said in a voice that sounded strange to me. “I don’t have plans to go back.”

“Oh. You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I don’t think I’m welcome anymore,” I whispered.

“Did you run over someone’s cat?” he asked lightly. I knew he didn’t want to force the story out of me, but I could hear the curiosity burning behind his words.

“No.” I took a deep breath, and then mumbled quickly through the explanation. “I thought Jacob would have realized… I didn’t think it would upset him so badly…”

Edward waited while I hesitated.

“He wasn’t expecting… that it could be so soon.”

“Ah,” Edward said quietly.

“He said he’d rather see me dead.” My voice broke on the last word.

Edward was too still for a moment, controlling whatever reaction he didn’t want me to see.

Then he crushed me gently to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I thought you’d be glad,” I whispered.

“Glad over something that’s hurt you?” he murmured into my hair. “I don’t think so, Beau.”

I sighed and relaxed, fitting myself to the stone shape of him. But he was motionless again, tense.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“You can tell me.”

He paused for a minute. “It might make you angry.”

“I still want to know.”

He sighed. “I could quite literally kill him for saying that to you. I want to.”

I laughed halfheartedly. “I guess it’s a good thing you’ve got so much self-control.”

“I could slip.” His tone was thoughtful.

“If you’re going to have a lapse in control, I can think of a better place for it.” I reached for his face, trying to pull myself up to kiss him. His arms tensed, holding me back.

He sighed. “Must I always be the responsible one?”

I grinned in the darkness. “No. Let me be in charge of responsibility for a few minutes… or hours.”

“Don’t tempt me, Beau.”

I could only laugh.

“Goodnight, Beau.”

“Wait—there was something else I wanted to ask you about.”

“What’s that?”

“I was talking to Royal last night…”

His body tensed again. “Yes. He was thinking about that when I got in. He gave you quite a lot to consider, didn’t he?”

His voice was anxious, and I realized that he thought I wanted to talk about the reasons Royal had give me for staying human. But I was interested in something much more pressing.

“He told me a little bit… about the time your family lived in Denali.”

There was a short pause; this beginning took him by surprise. “Yes?”

“He mentioned something about a bunch of beautiful vampires… and you.”

He didn’t answer, though I waited for a long moment.

“Don’t worry,” I said, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. “He told me you didn’t… show any preference. But I was just wondering, you know, if any of them had. Shown a preference for you, I mean.”

Again he said nothing.

“Which one?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, and not quite managing. “Or was there more than one?”

No answer. I wished I could see his face, so I could try to guess what this silence meant.

“Alice will tell me,” I said. “I’ll go ask her right now.”

His arms tightened; I was unable to squirm even an inch away.

“It’s late,” he said. His voice had a little edge to it that was something new. Sort of nervous, maybe a little embarrassed. “Besides, I think Alice stepped out…”

“It’s bad,” I guessed. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?” I started to fill nauseous as I imagined the gorgeous immortal rival I’d never realized I had.

“Calm down, Beau,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’re being absurd.”

“Am I? Then why don’t you tell me?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell. You’re blowing this wildly out of proportion.”

“Which one?” I insisted.

He sighed. “Taras expressed a little interest. I let him know, in a very courteous, gentlemanly fashion, that I did not return that interest. End of story.”

I kept my voice as even as possible. “Tell me something—what does Taras look like?”

“Just like the rest of us—white skin, gold eyes,” he answered too quickly.

“And, of course, extraordinarily beautiful.”

I felt him shrug.

“I suppose, to human eyes,” he said, indifferent. “You know what, though?”

“What?” My voice was petulant.

He put his lips right to my ear; his cold breath tickled. “I prefer brunettes.”

“He’s blond. That figures.”

“Strawberry blond—not at all my type.”

I thought about that for a while, trying to concentrate as his lips moved slowly along my cheek, down my throat, and back up again. He made the circuit three times before I spoke.

“I guess that’s okay, then,” I decided.

“Hmm,” he whispered against my skin. “You’re quite adorable when you’re jealous. It’s surprisingly enjoyable.”

I scowled into the darkness. “Don’t push your luck tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “It’s late,” he said again, murmuring, almost crooning now, his voice smoother than silk. “Sleep, my Beau. Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep, my only love.”

He started to hum my lullaby, and I knew it was only a matter of time until I succumbed, so I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into his chest.

[absinthehq]

CHANDER ADHYA

THIRTY FOUR. CEO OF MGM RESORTS.

trigger warning for death mention.

Born into a world of opulence in Delhi, India, Chander came as an only child, and as such, was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. To say that would be an understatement even, since he's the son of the CEO of MGM Resorts, Karan, whose legacy as an owner to a plethora of luxurious, five-star hotel resorts around the world would be passed onto his child much later on, when Chander would become one of the most famous faces in the world as a socialite, heir and philanthropist altogether.

In a world of savages and suits, Chander survived by making it through with his charming, charismatic personality. He knew how people worked: they wanted to be adored, they wanted to feel important. So his money bought them everything and they sold their souls for his friendship: to be at the best parties, the best balls, the best of everything. He grew up into a world of opulence, throwing his money around as if it were nothing... so he fit perfectly when he moved into the US, at the tender age of eighteen.

His father expected him to achieve something, to earn something of his own, but it came as no surprise when a lazy Chander dropped out of college to build one of his father's resorts in Las Vegas. His father couldn't say no -- as he saw a great opportunity in Vegas, but he was angry at Chander for simply doing whatever he wanted without his father's approval or consent. It made him even angrier when Chander made it to the Indian newspapers' front pages by being seen with a man, other than a woman. His conservative family didn't take it lightly, and although they would never disown Chander, he was scolded highly by his parents and managers alike, who didn't understand he was pansexual.

Years forward and everything was forgotten. Chander's charm naturally drew people in, including his family back. He came out of the closet without any guilt or shame, and his father eventually understood the inner-workings of Chander: he was a fan of opulence, chaos, and love. At twenty six, Chander was ready to take on the MGM Resorts company as his father retired, and despite his poor money management issues, he was quite the businessman. His fame made his luxurious hotel-resorts even more desired than ever, and he was the face of a generation who wanted to have everything. To be everything.

Out of all places, Chander enjoyed Vegas the most. He settled down then, living all by himself in a penthouse near the Bonventre name, whose association with him later on would only make Chander more famous: he became a regular client at Absinthe, oblivious to Cesare's mob connections, but close to the family nonetheless. He enjoyed the women, the expensive drinking and the beautiful baristas serving him whatever is it that he ordered on a pretty golden plate. Chander liked to spoil himself, and so he was spoiled rotten, rotten to the core by Cesare's club workers.

Flash forward to 2019, and the news of Cesare's death hit Chander hard. He was a good man in Chander's eyes, but little does he know or imagine there's much more to what meets the eye: Cesare's mafia connections may be the be all end all to everything, including Chander's success. He's treading on dangerous waters -- and it's only a matter of time until he finds out he's been drowning all along.

GLORY AND GORE GO HAND IN HAND…

Dai Ruogang: His boyfriend of many months, almost a year now. He knows Ruogang has never had anyone to count on, and Chander intends to be that person... but whatever is it that Ruogang is up to, it isn’t good. He’s been up at night more often, drinking more coffee, and taking those mysterious pills of his...

Lucca Bonventre: Chander may just be the end of Lucca. They’re extremely good friends, but that doesn’t mean Chander isn’t a bad influence on him -- encouraging Lucca to drink and gamble more often, harder and better. Chander isn’t known as the opulent prince for nothing, but his money can’t buy Lucca’s friendship back, should anything happen.

Sophie Leung: His ex. It ended in such bitter terms, but she’s now engaged to Leonardo Bonventre, ironically, one of his family friends. He doesn’t like it how there seems to be something off, distant, jaded about her, as if she’s about to strike at any given minute. He knows she’s just a working nurse, but something about the way she’s climbed the social ladder seems ugly to Chander.

Peter Dougherty: Chander’s trusted friend. They usually go golfing together or fishing in expensive yachts, enjoying champagne and all of that their money has to offer. Peter is a corrupt politician -- and Chander has caught onto that, but he simply turns a blind eye and pretends it wasn’t Peter who helped finance MGM Resorts Vegas at some point or another.

THAT’S WHY WE’RE MAKING HEADLINES!

✉ SENT @ 2:54pm  → RUOGANG: i love you, will you come home? ✉ SENT @ 2:57pm  → LUCCA: c’mon dude... it’s just a party.  ✉ SENT @ 5:32pm  → PETER: champagne’s on me.

available. faceclaim: sidharth malhotra (negotiable)