#and then I’m just kinda stuck cause I miss the first fake person but not the real person

[blueandbetaraptors]

Got this idea from someone, I tagged them at the bottom of the story, thanks for letting me write it!

It was a bright and sunny afternoon. Ned and Peter were walking back from school to the tower. Peter was sharing his personal experience from when the vulture tried to kill him.

“I tell you Ned, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared, at first I thought he was just trying to hit me with his metal wings. I joked that he missed. Then he gave me this evil look and was like “I just needed to distract you” and I see him grab his wing hoverboard thingy and he shot off and the ceiling started to collapse!”

“Wow dude, that’s freaky. I mean, you probably would have been less stuck if Mr.Stark hadn’t taken your suit.”

“Yea but I don’t really wanna tell him, cause then I’m worried I’ll make him feel bad.” Pete said as they walked into the front doors.

“How did you get out?”

“Well I cried, I was definitely panicked, but I forced myself to push the rubble off my back and crawl out… and that’s how I almost died!

“excuse me?” Tony said, he suddenly stops his conversation with Steve and Bruce.

Pete and Ned stop in their tracts when they suddenly see Tony, Steve and Bruce gathered around the elevators when Tony caught the tail end of the conversation.

“who and where?” Steve adds, makeing himself look tall, a face of a man who wants justice served.

Bruce looks at Peter, “No one’s going to get away with that one, need me to send the other guy?” A hint of green starts to show on his neck.

Suddenly a large sound comes from up above as Clint comes down from the vents,” I can take care of them.” As he lands on his feet.

Suddenly Peter and Ned are in front of 4 of the avengers, all who look bent on stopping the person that apparently almost killed Peter.

“oh, hey guys, i was just telling Ned about the time a building fell on me. It’s all good now. Yall don’t have to do anything.” Peter, confused responded as he rubbed the back of his neck, Ned by his side, his mouth slightly agape like a fish.

“ Yup! Buts it’s cool now. Like Peter said.” Ned recovers and tries to help Pete calm the avengers down.

Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Clint, “WHAT?” The foursome yell in unison

“Fri- get me info on this!”

“Are you hurt”

“When did this happen.”

“Son, who did this to you?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone.”

“Language!”

“Shut it Steve”

Suddenly Peter is getting overwhelmed by all the talking that Ned grabs him and pulls him away while the avengers start talking over each other not realizing that Peter and Ned left to go upstairs. However, Nat stops them.

“Ok, I heard the commotion. Something about you almost dying, someone not telling us that a building nearly crushed them… care to explain?” She folds her arms, giving a ‘don’t try to fake it’ expression.

“It’s not a big deal now Nat. I found the guys who were stealing the alien weapons and I tried to call Mr.Stark but he was busy with the move, but I didn’t have my suit cause Mr.Stark told me I don’t need it if I’m gonna be reckless. Well I found out it was Liz’s dad and I went to confront him and he was talking he was just buying time for his wing thing to come and get him loose and then he circled around me, I thought he missed but he was just going for the support systems and he got away right as the building collapsed on me.. a..and I was scared but I know I had to be strong and I survived.” Pete kinda said it in a rush, and then realized that the whole team, was listening in.

Peter watched as expressions turn from concern and anger to solemn, and even some guilt faces, Clint literally punches Tony’s arm.

“Hey! What was that for Legolas?” Tony asks as he rubs his arm.

“That’s for almost getting Peter killed by taking his suit.”

“Guys seriously, it’s not a big deal, i survived and I learned from my mistakes.” Pete tried to explain, trying to calm the nerves of everyone.

“Peter, gosh, this world is too good for you. Look, I was wrong for taking your suit, just with what happened with the ferry, i thought you were getting to gun ho and I needed to slow yourself before you killed yourself.” Tony signed and ran his hand through his head.

After sitting down and the avengers learning more of Peter’s experience with the vulture, they all gained a new respect for their teammate and also thanked Ned for helping him.

@irondadspiderson4evr

[akria23]

Suspect Theory List

I’m continuing with my simplified version of my Suspect Theories so again no charts. Again I’ve put the original sus list and if they’re still active, disproven, or yet to be explored in the series. Some them I’ve shelved & others I’m considering on a small scale.

Looking at the list and seeing the stuff from my first chart is kinda crazy. In hindsight I get why the writer said what he about giving me a reward because damn near every theory I had on my chart has been explore up until this point - Suicide, debt collector, hiding, drug overdose, Prom being Mask Dog. The only things I had that haven’t been explore was Split Personality & Coma and funny enough I still have them there because whose to say Nant/Nont ain’t in a psyche ward or hospital bed stuck in a hallucinogenic dream where he has split himself into two separate people. I don’t think so…well not reeeeally.

At this point anything’s possible. I don’t know how to feel though cause imagine all of my theories making it into the series and none of them being THE right theory. Like yeah he was overdose but if it wasn’t under the circumstances I originally theorize then that’s like a half a point imo. There’s always stuff I feel like I missed because of my own biases - like Prom working with Nant for his escape. I feel like I should’ve caught that possibility for sure but because of how I felt Nant viewed Prom I assumed he wouldn’t have went to him for that but it makes so much sense in hindsight. They’re probably gonna gag me in the end. Like imagine Puen is the killer - I don’t think he’s on anybody’s list despite him teasing his own possible badness in the earlier episodes. My mom played catch up right before episode 10 & Aob was actually on her suspect list. She was so satisfied seeing his actions in episode 10.

Anyway, let’s get into the update…

NUTH ❓ Still active

- Originally the series was building a case against Nuth - he seemed like an obsessive, possibly violent, and possessive individual who was attached to & influencing Nant’s life. I felt he could be a major red herring, however when the narrative shifted to paint Nant as the possibly violent one while victimizing Nuth, I felt there were a few threads left unanswered & a possibility that Nuth might not be a reliable narrator/source.

NOBODY

Theory A: Suicide ❌ Disproven

- Theory built on the idea that Nant may have been struggling with unhappiness & his circumstances to the point of self harming.

- This theory was explored in episode 7 & 8 wherein Nuth claims Nant committed suicide due to pressures of his debtors but Prom & the Baddies feel the suicide video was just a set up video by Nant to fake his death because the clip was sent to Nuth, his laptop was found elsewhere & there was no body found.

- In episode 10 Nant death was ruled as an accidental overdose. Though one could commit suicide by overdose I’m still taken this confirmation as a disproved theory for now.

Theory B: Split Personality 🔆 Unexplored

- Theory built on the idea that Nont/a ant ks actually one person who struggles with split personality or an identity crisis.

- Theory has yet to be explored within the story.

Theory C: Debt Collector❗️Currently Exploring

- Theory was built on the idea that the debtors Prom mentioned when he first met Nont likely wasn’t Soong cause he would just said his name (and Soong admitted that Nant has paid him back). This idea branched off into 3 mini theories of what could’ve happened to Nant if he was indebted to drug dealers…

- Hiding: ✔️ Confirmed

* Theory is self explanatory. Prom faked his death and went into hiding from his debtors.

* This theory was confirmed if Prom’s testimony is to be believed and the fact that Nant’s body was fresh means he was atleast alive until 2 days before the discovery of his body.

* Given episode 10 it seems there may of course be more to the story.

- Coma: 🔅 Unexplored

* Again this one was self explanatory. If Nant owed a large sum of money they may not have minded harming him if he couldn’t pay up. This would’ve explained the lack of a body & communication on Nant’s side of things. Again this may be disproven soon as well if the clip at the end of episode 8 was really Nant’s corpse.

* I could slide this one to disproven but my second theory for Coma is that Nont is actually in a coma and all of this is one big coma dream. So I’ll leave this one as unexplored for now.

- Drug overdose:❗️ Currently exploring

* This one didn’t really have much to do with the debtors other than it being drug related. The theory is built on the concept that Nant may have had a bad reaction or an accidental overdose on drugs he was either using or unknowingly took & those around him either left him for dead or got rid of his body afterwards.

* So death by overdose has been confirmed - they state accidental but so he could’ve been hiding out and meeting someone & overdose & they dumped his body.

* Or he could’ve been intentionally drugged and then his body disposed of.

Shelved: 🛑

- Prom: Is still currently on the self even though I have to admit I can still see a path for him to be the killer but this deep in the story I feel like there’s better possibilities & likelihoods.

- Porsche: I actually do have a theory and a possible motive for him to be a killer but I really don’t wanna put it on the board without some evidence that it’s really a possibility- simply because of subject matter behind this particular theory. So imma keep him on the shelf unless I see clues pointing to my theory.(One day imma have to write a post about how I can love a Vegas but don’t see it at all for a Porsche).

- Keen: This one is of no surprise to me because I had more reasons listed for why I felt it was him but felt I had to add him to the possibility because of the mask link.

Possible additions: ⁉️

- Daddy Jason: Last time I said he HAD to be guilty something but I’m actually unsure about this one because while I think he’s a bad guy I don’t know if I’d say he’s the actual killer. For one the method of death. In the trailer we saw Jason put a bullet between a man’s eyes - why would he use his product to kill Nant when there’s easier s ways? Even if we say he wanted to kill him inconspicuously, an overdose naked in the woods is not that at all.

- Zouey: I know Zouey is a Baddie and a fan favorite which makes him less likely the killer BUT if this was a normal thriller ran by normal thriller rules Zouey would be everyone’s prime suspect. He’s the least likely, he’s well liked which makes him a suspect all in his own. But what puts Zouey on a list for me is the fact that he was supposedly SO close to Nant yet Nant didn’t go to him for help - atleast not at first from what we know. But he could’ve reached out to him later & Zouey could’ve used that advantage. I don’t think drugs or the debt would be Zouey’s motive of course - the overdose would have just been a convenient weapon given Nant’s drug history. There’s also the fact of us never getting to see Zouey/Teena’s for all we know they could’ve went and murdered Nant together & lied about having sex instead. Do I think Zouey will actually be the killer? Probably not but I wanted to add him regardless 😂 At least one of my crazy theories gotta make the board.

- Tutor: This one may feel a bit random BUT everyone in the series has something to do with Nant - even Phop had a connection of suspicion by having Nant’s laptop. And we don’t know much about tutor other than he’s a reporter so it’s difficult to build a case against him but If I remember correctly there was a message between Tutor & Nant about looking into Jason. Tutor could’ve at one point been working with Nant (or pretending to) and later turned on him. I haven’t been able to work a motive so he’s just on the possibility list.

Suspicious but don’t make the list (yet):

- Aob: Is one of those ppl who should be on the list because after the last episode he seems mad sus, however, while he seems to be working for Jason and could’ve gotten rid of Nant cause he was a threat to Jason (if he’d been trying to find dirt on him with Tutor like it seemed) but he just doesn’t make the cut for me. That may have more to do with feeling he’d be more of a stereotypical choice than any real possibility of him not being the killer tho.

- Things I still wonder about…

* Does Zouey identify as Demisexual, Placiosexual or something else?

* What is the handprint at Nuth’s house all about if he didn’t murder anyone?!

* Why did they cut the ZoueyTeena scene…Because I don’t know my brain keeps thinking maybe ZT are lying for some reason.

* 2/3 projects I’ve seen from the writer (this being the 3rd) there’s usually atleast 1 pairing that does not make it…will that trend carry into Playboyy? And if so which pairing not making it (I think about this a lot actually).

* Why was Nant found naked…

* Why the narrative around the twins being so similar when the only area the seem similar in is how they enjoy sex.

* Jason seems like the quid-pro-quo type so what does Prom have to do to be taken care of, to be the host of Playboyy rather than one of the men on the menu like Aob?

[rosicheeks]

😑

[itstheimpossibledream]

It’s Only A Play -Part 3

Word Count:3244

Pairing : AU Henry Cavill x FemBlack!Reader

Summary: We love a good slow burn. SMUT

The bag crackled in his large hands. You found yourself wondering why he even bothered delicately tearing the wrapping, when he could easily smash both the wrapper and cookie open in one fist. The fortune seemed so small in his hands.He held the paper back a bit further than you would have expected and you realized he was probably one of those people who needed glasses but refused to get them.He cleared his throat again."It says 'The art of living is taking the biggest chance.'"

"In bed." you said quickly

"What?!" his eyebrows flew up in shock but,he laughed to keep from appearing to hopeful.

"It's an American thing. You read a fortune cookie and at the end you add in bed. It makes every fortune cookie funnier, I promise."you said not breaking eye contact. He threw his head back and laughed even harder. It was a childish trick but, something about it tickled him so much he hardly noticed when his hat fell off of his head and onto Kal who had been peacefully sleeping in the slice of floor behind Henry's chair. His baritone chuckles echo through the apartment and you’re amazed that neighbors didn't even cross his mind as a concern in this place.Realistically he probably wasn’t even home enough to get a noise complaint. His laughing had lessened and you could feel him watching you. You knew people who had embarrassingly nice apartments but, nothing like this. This was just lavishly ridiculous.

"It gets lonely being here alone." He said evenly,reading your mind. "Family doesn't visit much and keeping friends with a schedule like mine is just..."

"Not easy ." you finished for him.You could feel his eyes boring into you carving out a space in your heart for him and you try to will yourself to stop. You both sat comfortable on the silence for a while, momentarily mutually mourning the lifestyle you lost to live your dream.

"Okay read yours!" Henry gestured to you cookie. You smashed it to bits,gingerly pulling out the paper fortune. You sat up tall clearing your throat trying to figure out if this fortune would be equally funny or if your childish trick had run it's course.

"You Are very talented in many ways in bed." You say bursting out laughing as he doubled over again.

"Come on! How come I couldn't have gotten that one" he jokes shrugging his shoulders.

" Just wasn't your fortune."you tease winking at him and getting up from the table.Okay so you were flirting with him,definitely flirting with him. But a highschool showmance was so unlike you. You knew the golden rule was to never go for your co-stars and yet here you were winking and shit. Maybe he'd ignore it , he really knew nothing about you outside of your work.

"So what made you like this story? When you got the script when did know you had to do it ?" He had moved from the table, his eyes shown brightly as he recovered his hat from the floor on his way. At the end of dinner you assumed it would be normal to grab your jacket and go back to your room.It's not like he had really planned for you to be over, and you weren't even friends so staying up this late with him to gossip wasn’t exactly in the cards. You had already learned so much more about him than you had expected to. He expertly moved to the kitchen,uncorked a bottle of wine he had chilling in the refrigerator and returned to the couch handing one of the glasses to you. So, now you were staying, I mean it’d be rude to turn down wine.

"Uhhhhh- well I think the relationship is relatable, it's real. It's not about these two perfect people but, it's about this perfect love they have... ya know?" You whirl yourself onto the seat on the couch next to him."To imagine what they were going through as a couple I mean- it must have made everything harder, these characters are from completely different worlds and they still choose each other in their own way. " He nods next to you , this was new. Geeking out with him about work wasn't what you expected but, you were actually enjoying it.

"So let me ask you something?"he pushes leaning in , He wrings his hands together and you’re distracted by the veiny passageways that mark down from his forearms."When do you think it would actually be necessary for them to have a sex scene?"he asks timidly.

"Right!" you exclaim! "I love Stephen but the way he directs it makes it feel so clunky !"you emphasize with your hands and he chuckles saying "Okay I'm so glad you noticed it too- like who has sex like this robots?"

"You know his partners have to be weird." you laugh , noticing how pointy his canines are. God, he looks like one of those twilight vampires, his stupid skin probably did shine in actual sunlight Not that New York would get any though,you acknowledge while making a mental note , not to drink to much of the wine that was clearly causing you to get distracted. You finish your glass and set it on the coffee table.

"Yeah I don't know i just think it's an unconventional love story and we need more of those." you smile , sheepishly meeting his eyes , going back to the topic of the show. His lower lip juts up as he nods,in agreement.

"Soooooo what's next?"you pop up, moving to his kitchen opening random cabinets, trying to find his liquor stash. You come across the empty bottle, of what must have been the wine you just drank and turn to him in the living room with a fake pout. It wasn’t that you were bored, or even that you didn’t want to spend time with him sober ;as much as it was that you desperately needed to cling to the idea that he wasn’t a good man for you.

"O. you can smoke out on the terrace if you want, and I don't have any more drinks here but,I can call down to the frontdesk to run and get you something.” Your eyes rolled so hard they almost fell out of your head.

"Of Course you have a front desk."you chortled to yourself.

"Hey, this is the flat the show is paying to keep me in not my own." he pointed at you in mock sternness

"No I'm okay. I don't smoke and drink all the time " you chided at him,he probably didn't really think that. He was just trying to drum up some conversation.

"and here I thought you were a real New Yorker." he jokes breaking into a toothy grin.

" I'm from a very small town-" you divulged with a sigh"definitely not New York.”

"Yeah- there's not many people from where I grew up around here either." he said plainly , moving to take off his rehearsal sneakers, for what was probably the first time since you had gotten to his place.

"You miss it a lot huh?" you ask

"I mean I go back often but, it's just much nicer to not have camera's up your ass all the time."he huffs, moving to the second set of laces.

"Ahh that good old Hollywood fame." you joke, with a sigh. He just smiles at you, beaming embarrassingly knowing he can never seem to say the right thing around you. For some reason busting his balls was somehow so much better than admitting to a feeling that you were becoming increasingly aware of,you wanted him.

"I'm not like a smoker smoker" you say, slicing through the silence "I picked it up from my ex and it just kinda stuck." you admit with a flippant gesture of your hand." But, only when I'm nervous or something."you felt the need to clarify.

"And why would you be nervous?"He smirked, pushing his shoes under the decoratively simplistic coffee table across from him and sliding down the front of the couch to sit on the floor. His thighs seemed abnormally large as he spread his legs out and started stretching. This time it was your turn to look away from him.You peeled your eyes,just as quick as he had before your shower. The confidence that radiated from him was absolutely maddening. You couldn't understand how any man could be so aware of their looks and yet still come off as slightly shy.

"I'm always nervous the first days of rehearsal.The new schedule, the new people, it's all just overwhelming at times." you divulged honestly. He pulled a knee into his chest heaving a sigh as you continued. "I wish I never started smoking though." you circled back.

"Do you wish you never met him too?"Henry asked, inquisitively peering up from under his hat as he switched knees. You exhaled slowly,fighting for the right way to answer that question.

"Sometimes yes" you nodded. "When I first moved to New York it was really tough, I felt really lonely too." you allowed your voice to trail into a whisper. There is a silence and then you can feel his eyes on you, your cheeks burning red-hot and the more you avoid looking at him the stronger the urge is.

"So that's why you're single." it was brutal but, you weren't upset.Long ago you had come to a similar realization about yourself. Plus, european’s had a way of sounding rude while simply stating facts, it’s part of what makes them so trendy.

"You've allowed life to make you become tough and jaded so you just don't date?Is that it?" he perked an eyebrow in your direction while removing his baseball cap.While you took no offense to his comment, that didn't stop you from hating it.

"Why do you care?" you asked immediately, choosing the defensive instead of going deeper and chasing him down the rabbit hole of honesty.

"See what is that?" he questioned.It was clear he was not going to be letting this go anytime soon.

"I'm trying to do the assignment. I'm trying to get to know you and you push me away."

"Don't be ridiculous."you roll your eyes toward him once again."I'm not pushing you away I just have boundaries and things I don’t want to discuss with you."

You push up from the couch and head in the direction of your room. It was not within his right to pry about your personal relationships,and truly there was nothing more to discuss. Plus, you knew if you stayed close to him a moment longer, you would give into his eyes and the beautiful vanes bulging in his large hand.

"Why?" he asked jumping to his feet,his agility momentarily shocking you as you turn to leave.

"Because I don't want to ! Because you're not-"

"Not what?" he pushes" I've been working around you and this thing between us and I don't why you can be blunt about everything else except this !" He got dangerously close to raising his voice and it stirred the butterflies in your stomach. Something about him being so stern with you set your sex drive ablaze. You could feel yourself biting down hard on your bottom lip and the more you refused to break eye contact with him the more fired up you became. You could see the honesty behind his eyes, he was trying with you, he was proving himself every step of the way and you hated how much you loved it.

"Fine. What is it? What's the THIS?" you ask sarcastically, staring directly at him. His face looked blank and you wondered for a moment if you had asked the right thing. He grabs your hand,falling back onto the couch and pulling you onto the couch on top of him.You quickly realize you are able to put yourself in a position where you can straddle him as he grabs your face, pulling you down to kiss him. You kiss him back slowly , taking time to explore with your tongue. You can feel his hand tangled in your hair at the back of your head and it does something wild to you. You grind down into him and you hear a slight moan escape his mouth.

You bite down suddenly on his bottom lip before coming up for air and he simply can't take it anymore. He wraps his arms around your legs and lifts you up by the bottom of your thighs, carrying you into the bedroom. You feel ridiculously delicate in his arms as he carries you. You break from the kiss momentarily, to make sure your head is ducking all the way under the doorframe as he holds you,smiling into your kiss.

You pull your own shirt off, letting it hit the floor with a loud 'thwack'. The noise momentarily wakes you out of your horny haze. As he lays you on the bed,you bring your forearm up to cover your eyes, in the vaguest attempt of shielding yourself from your own embarrassment. He pulls your pants off and while unsure ,you don't protest as he gingerly splays your legs open for him to see the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

"O you're so wet for me now."he smiles from ear to ear as you peek through your hand just enough to see his perfectly chiseled chest and you shut your eyes again wondering if this could be real, if he's real.

" We're not done ."he smirks, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you towards him. He then gracefully flips you over onto your hands and knees facing away from him.He pulls your panties down and drags his large fingers over your wet slit and you arch your back at his touch. He settles one hand on your hip as he uses the other hand to work himself into you.You had imagined he was big, but when you feel his head poking into you, you knew your fantasies could never compare to the reality. He uses the hand on your hip to slowly pull you further onto him until you are taking in his whole length. Moving painstakingly slowly, in and out of you. You hear him moaning above you and then he whispers "Fuck” in that stupid accent before snapping his hips into you and pushing you forward. He uses his other hand to prop you up because he knows he's pushing way to hard for someone of your size. Slamming into your pretty little cunt over and over again. You let out his name and you allow plea after plea for him to let you cum. He pounds into you grabbing your hair and pulling your face up to meet his.After a few more thrusts he finally graces you with a reply.

"No." he says and then pulls out of you. Your body immediately feels drained, completely and utterly fucked out and somehow all you want is more. You hold the position for a minute breathing into the lack of movement when you look back to see Henry watching you. Working himself in his large hand, the veins in his arms bulging and a slight bead of sweat beginning to work it's way onto his forehead.

"Turn over" he commands, and as much as you want to move quickly your legs feel like jelly,the smile line at the corner of his mouth fades as he walks towards you and flips you over himself. He positions himself above you again and says "I want to see that pretty face you make when you cum." he smiles down at you sweetly. Pushing in between your hot folds again and the noise you make is downright pornographic. You know it , he knows it and only fuels the fire behind his thrusts . He reaches for your neck again, giving you a pale necklace of fingers and veins that contrasts with your skin . With his other hand you feel him grab at your hand and interlace your fingers with his, above your head. Your eyes fly open and he is looking directly at you, smiling a bit and you can tell he is taking you in. Revelling in all the tiny noises and ways your body responds to his. You can feel his pace quicken as his moans increase, it almost feels as though the longer you look at him the harder he fucks into you, challenging you, seeing if you can handle him. His curls begin to dampen and stick to his forehead, you watch while he looks down on you. He momentarily breaks having his hand at your throat to bring his own pointer to his mouth. You watch as he lighlty bites down on it while letting out a moan.It's almost as if he's trying to keep himself quiet, or burn this view into his brain, but he's to turned on to focus. He fucks into you harder and harder, you can't take it, seeing his teeth around his own finger made you absolutely feral. You cried out his name immediately and before you could realize what was happening you felt your walls tightening again under him. Your legs shook as waves of pleasure washed over you and you could feel yourself clamping down on him. He fucked you through the orgasm, and when it seemed as though you had recovered, he climbed up your body, forcing his cock down your throat, and came instantly. He shudders and makes deep grunts on top of you. You can't help but gag a little on his length as you try to take in the art that is his unclothed body. He hears you struggling for breath and immediately pulls himself out of you. He holds a thumb at the bottom of your chin and watches as you swallow every drop of him. When you're done you look up at him, giving him your best attempt at doe eyes and he turns your chin up for him to kiss you . Fuck. Fuck. you were not supposed to fuck your coworker.Especially not this coworker, you barely even liked him. After a few moments of making out the contact fizzled and eventually he was just laying next to you, breathing heavily.

"It's purely physical." you sighed, watching the small curly hairs on his pecs as his chest heaved.

"Is it?" he began laughing. His smile shone bright in the dimness of the room. He turns to face you, leaning in for a kiss again and you're to weak to deny him.

"Dammit." he whispers between your lips. You grab the back of his head pulling him closer to you, your mind to blissed out and high for you to think.He kisses you hard and then pulls back. He hops off the bed, chest heaving as he uses his forearm to wipe away the sweat. You sleepily roll over to face where he's going. Some minutes pass and before you know it your overly fucked body is begging for rest.You drift of to sleep feeling euphoria in the big bed.

[silkentragedies]

A boyfriend sounds good, but…

Non idol! Jung Wooyoung x fem! Reader

3.1k words, Highly suggestive at best, making out, FLUFF, E2L vibes, College AU

Warnings: Mentions of STDs, making out. ( This is so self-indulgent it’s horrible lmao- also, not explicit at all.)

This piece of fiction does not reflect the actions of the real-life Jung Wooyoung. Not meant for minors. 

College was supposed to be late night parties and hurried submissions, overdosing on caffeine and woefully unedited essay compilations. College was supposed to be hellish hangovers and greasy weekend brunches in bed, helter-skelter running to part-time jobs and missing classes with snoozed alarms.

You got all of that, of course, but you also got one thing you didn’t ask for, in fact, wished beyond wishes that it wouldn’t happen but of course, your guardian angel was up to some mischief: You got yourself an archenemy.

Jung fucking Wooyoung.

It all started off small, of course; bumping into each other rather violently in the hallways on orientation day ended with your coffee on the floor. Minor detail- his phone had also dropped on the floor.

You apologized profusely- he seemed like an upperclassman with his leather jacket, slim but solid build, a head of double-toned hair and oh were those tattoos peeking out of his collar- no point in causing a ruckus on the first day. You even offered to pay for the damage. 

And then he opened his mouth. 

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

The sheer annoyance in his tone rubbed you the wrong way- obviously you had to respond, you weren’t the only one at fault- 

“Sorry, but you weren’t watching where you were going either. So don’t tout the blame to me-”

“Oh, whatever, just keep your money. I can get it fixed myself.”

The audacity of this bi-

“Good for you then, because my offer is off the table now, pretty boy.” 

A smirk curled up his lip- “You think I’m pretty?”

“About as pretty as a skunk, especially with that hair.”

You had to tamp down the urge to childishly stick your tongue out at his bemused, mildly annoyed expression before walking past him.

 Lamenting the loss of your morning coffee, you hurried your way to the orientation venue. At Least he was an upperclassman. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to deal with him-

“Did you see that hot guy in the leather jacket and that black-blonde hair ?”

Fuck’s sake. 

“His name’s Jung Wooyoung and apparently all the upperclassmen already have an eye on him. He’s in our major so we really lucked out, hot guys-wise.”

Fuck’s sake.

Surely you could just avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist?

But no.

Jung fucking Wooyoung turned out to be the apple of the campus’ eye in a matter of 2 weeks. He was as new to the university as the rest of you and yet, managed to look more put together, cooler than the rest of you still struggling to figure out class numbers and professor names.

He was the upperclassmen darling- people drooled over him, wanted to befriend him, and invite him to all the big parties…

and fuck- even the teachers were already wrapped around his infuriating pinky finger. They allowed him to waltz into class 25 minutes late, smile his infuriating innocent smile and chill in the back row, scot fucking free.

A month in, he’d gotten into the Dance Club too-  cementing his legendary status in the university. It was unheard of, after all, for a freshman to get into the unattainable Dance Club in his first attempt. 

You happened to visit one of the club’s performances one weekend and even you couldn’t ignore the sheer talent he radiated. It only infuriated you more to watch Wooyoung hog the stage’s spotlight with almost no effort- all perfect lines, sharp and clean movements…

It’s fine, you could still ignore his existence

But no.

Another thing about Jung Wooyoung- he found sick pleasure in annoying the living daylights out of you. 

It was so juvenile, so high-school, so immature of him- sticking gum in your hair, snapping your bra strap, kicking the back of your chair, striking up nonsense debates with you in class…

And then he had the nerve to laugh in your face when you glared at him with hellfire in your eyes because you were too polite to lash out in front of a professor.

Of course, you exhibited no such restraint outside the classroom.

“You vs Woo” was a commonplace explanation for the commotions that blazed up in the campus courtyard every other day. You were like wolves, the way you snarled at each other, not hesitating to slash at each other with as many cutting words as you could find. 

This went on for months, an entire semester marred by an enmity that seemed to stem from nothing- until one day, mister Jung Wooyoung really fucked up.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? FACE ME, YOU COWARDLY WORM!” Your angry yelling and thudding on the door had Wooyoung’s roommates Yeosang and… Choi San? running to open the door to their shared dorm room. 

You barged into Wooyoung’s room, unplugging the game he was playing. “What the fuck-”

“You dirty fucking bastard. You shameless shitstain of a fucking human being-” 

Slap. Wooyoung reeled back. In all this time, you’d never actually hit out at him physically. It had always been words. Maybe this time he crossed a line?

“You told Changbin I had a fucking STD. THE GALL OF YOU-” You lashed out at him with every few words, pushing Wooyoung further back against the back wall of his room. 

“How fucking dare you make assumptions about me like that. you lowlife scumbag.” You snarled in his face, now having him trapped between you and the wall.

You were smaller than him by quite a bit- it was almost amusing to see Wooyoung cowering in front of you, lowkey terrified of what you’d throw at him next. 

“Okay okay, fuck, I’m sorry!” He burst out finally, cutting you right across your angry rant. “I didn’t mean it like that!! I swear, I didn’t even know you were the one he was talking about. And I only told him to be safe from STDs, not that anybody had one.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe you, Jung,” You screeched. “You’ve always been a dick in general to me. I wouldn’t put it past you to say something like that and lie to my face about it.”

You back away, almost disgusted at being so close to him, “Seriously, dude. Get fucked.” Flipping him off before leaving, you turn around to look at him still standing where you’d backed him up to, an evil glint in your eye.

“It will be so fucking unfortunate if somebody told the campus gossip blog you had erectile dysfunction and your hookups were all fake.”

\

Safe to say, Wooyoung never made digs at your sexual activity again.

Neither did he have much sexual activity of his own for a while. Not that there was much sexual activity in your case either.

Maybe it was that exact…starvation that led Wooyoung to behave the way he did.

What was juvenile teasing became more… flirtatious?

Oh gods, what the fucking fuck is going on-

Suddenly, it wasn’t gum in your hair, it was soft whispers against your ear, breath warm against your cheek

It wasn’t kicking the back of your chair, it was leaning in front of you to fistbump Lee Felix on the other side of you until you could smell his intoxicating chocolate-honey-sweat scent.

He’d taken to taking his leather jacket off and sitting through classes (he still turned up late for) in a muscle t shirt that showed off his toned arms- 

All of his movements now seemed to be designed to tease the crawling under your skin you hadn’t been able to quench recently-

Not that you were a serial hookup kinda person, but you’d been fairly sexually active until semester exams and Wooyoung’s rumors had brought around quite a dry spell for you.

It was like every action of his sparked something wildfire hot in your head, tension stringing your senses into overdrive- were you imagining it?

Wooyoung was having some troubles with said crawling under-skin himself. 

Since when did you wear skinny jeans like that to class? Did you always have such a pretty neck, just waiting to get marked up? Did you always have that sway to your hips when you walked out of class?

The forced abstinence was doing bad things to him. 

It did rather amuse him, however, when he could see your breath catch a little from his murmurings in your ear, or squirm in your seat when he spoke to Felix before the professor arrived. It was the little things, truly. 

You still fought like a cat and dog though- there was no way the two of you would ever let on that your scope of noticing each other had gone beyond annoyance and rivalry a while ago. 

//

“Fuck no. I’m not doing this fucking project with you. It’s worth half the fucking grade and you’re a numbskull when it comes to this subject.”

“Like I want to deal with you anymore than I have to, sweetheart. You’re pretentious enough in class as it is.” 

Fate really loved playing the cliche card with you- of course you got paired up with Wooyoung for one of your semester projects. 

No, it definitely wasn’t the teacher that saw you two glaring more at each other more than the whiteboard and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Of fucking course the teacher refused to allow switching of partners or individual grading- it had to be a team effort or you’d both fail the subject. As a team. Yippee-ki fucking yay.

So you two ended up in the library at 11 p.m, two nights before your first check point review, having procrastinated the fuck out of working together until the last possible minute.

Amidst cursing at each other and cups of ramen and iced americano, the two of you found yourself stuck with each other and attempting to build the basis of an acceptable report to present. 

Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung wasn’t entirely a lost cause when it came to the subject. He actually made sizable contributions to the report. He even got you some coffee on his break, despite the jibes and taunts you threw at him about going soft- you were the type to hold a grudge.

You were both wandering down the shelves in the library, looking for more references when Wooyoung decided to open his big mouth again.

“You do realize that shitty rumor you put out didn’t really mess with my prospects, right?” Wooyoung was so full of shit. “If anything, I’d be worried about you, sweetheart.”

There it was again. Sweetheart. Another of those taunting things that just riled you up in all the wrong(right) ways. It was like he knew everything you would go weak for and then shamelessly exploited them all.

“Unlike you, Wooyoung, I don’t need people to stroke my ego…or anything else. I can get myself going just fine.”

“If you did know how to stroke anybody’s anything, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have trouble getting some.”

Ohhh, so he wants to play some games!!! Okay then-

You reached out to flick at his ponytail, ever-so slightly enamoured by how well he pulled off the double-toned look.

“Like you know anything about how to please in bed, babe.” 

It was unfair how much that nickname falling from your lips affected Wooyoung. Some…not very appropriate thoughts had already taken root in his brain and you running your mouth was not helping at all. 

“Good enough for them to beg, sweetheart.” 

A soft crow of laughter escaped you as you turned to fully face him, the both of you standing between the Greek Architecture and Geography sections.

“You sure you weren’t the one doing the begging?” 

“Oh, really now?”

You really should’ve thought through what was leaving your mouth 

Because now you were wedged between the shelves and Wooyoung’s (unfairly) toned body, his arms caging you in with that signature shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned closer to you- 

The tension was almost atrocious now, suffocating you when it had only previously nudged at you. You could feel it settle under your skin, in your veins, fingers itching to reach out and pull him closer 

But you kept your hands braced against the shelves- you would not give him the satisfaction of making the first move yourself…right? 

Fuck, you really wanted to though- 

It had be the late hour leaving you with lesser inhibitions than normal or possibly the pent up horny in your system or maybe the questionable direction your conversation was headed in

There was no other plausible reason for your arch nemesis’ lips to look that inviting

It must’ve been the way your attention flitted from his eyes to his lips that gave you away, a momentary lapse of self-control before you looked away, off to some point behind his shoulders-

And he smirk only widens

“You know, nobody really visits this corner of the library.”

“Your point?”

Both your voices were whispers now, your bodies close enough to touch but not quite, Wooyoung’s face a few inches away from yours and holding your gaze 

(He had honey flecks in those dark eyes, 7 on one side and 4 on the other, like gold leaf in coffee)

“We could easily find out who begs for who…”

He still hadn’t touched you yet, his hands placed on the shelf on either side of you- you could move out from the space if you so wished-

Despite the tension between the both of you, it seemed like… like he was waiting for you to make the first move, voice your consent, act on it 

How considerate, you thought to yourself as you let your sight wander to either side, checking for people 

Surprising you found Jung Wooyoung’s one possible redeeming quality like this, mind hazy and barely restraining yourself from kissing the living daylights out of him- 

Oh well, fuck it

A soft sound left Wooyoung as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to yours, lips meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss

How dare he be a good kisser too?

One hand reached up to cup your cheek and you instinctively tilted your head into the warmth of his palm as the kiss deepened

Unfair that he could take your breath away so effortlessly

There was nothing hesitant about the way Jung wooyoung kissed you back

Lips pressing more persistently against yours, teeth grazing your lower lip and pulling slightly before diving in again, hand now curled around the back of your neck

His other hand caressed your side and gripped your hips as he pressed you gently against the shelves, your arm slipping down to clutch at the front of his shirt as his body molded all too perfectly against yours

You could feel him everywhere

Everywhere 

From the way his lips had begun to land messy kisses against your jaw and neck, the hand on your hip tightening and slipping under your shirt to clutch at soft skin, hips flush against yours 

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from Wooyoung, your head spinning at the intoxicating feeling he brought with him 

The sensation of his mouth against your neck was almost euphoric, your head lolling back against the books and leaving you to pull your lower lip between your teeth, an almost futile feeling bid to keep silent, you’re still in public

Somehow your hands wound up in his hair, pulling the double-toned strands as his head dipped lower, a quiet groan from Wooyoung your only pointer that he liked it

So this is why he was so sure of himself, your mind temporarily blanking when Wooyoung’s teeth pulled against the sensitive skin, biting and sucking gently

A choked, uneven sound escaped your mouth when he pushed you harder against the shelves, hand reaching lower to squeeze your butt-

A smirk lit up his eyes as he straightened up to look at the line of red- blue blooming across your neck, then at you, cheeks warm and still biting your lip, looking resolutely away from his gaze

“Weren’t we supposed to be working on the project?” 

This little buzzkill.

//

You didn’t work on the project that night

You spent it in Wooyoung’s bedroom, getting railed within an inch of your life.

Not without the lack of the both of you being absolutely unable to keep your hands off each other on the way there 

Between the library and his dorm, you pulled or got pulled into shady alleys and corners for ‘another taste’ 

“Never again.” You warned him when he dropped you off at your dorm, you looking windswept from the wind of course and his hoodie up because of the cold not because his neck was more purple than tan-

Lies.

Your daytime dynamic remained the same 

But now with added benefits- 

He got to corner you after class, feel you up until you were gasping his name and then leave you hanging 

You got to make brazen moves under the table in the library whenever he got too snarky for his own good

He could ask nicely, you learnt. Broken groans and choked-up sounds would escape him when you ran your nails over his skin, soft and sharp and wanting and unyielding as you kissed your way down his body

Down his neck, over his chest, the hard planes of his stomach 

He would plead for more when you sucked him off, bucking his hips closer to you everytime you slowed down or stopped

Find him at the right time, though and he could just as easily return the favour

He would tease you relentlessly, hands ghosting everywhere dangerous and then pulling away just to watch you squirm and make grabby hands at him, a frown marring your kiss- swollen lips 

Leave conspicuous marks too high up on your neck for you to cover, dark enough for a day or two that even makeup left shadows

Spending a long, long time between your legs only to get up and start dressing, claiming to be late for class

Quickies were your religion at this point 

Janitors closets locked and hand covering your mouth to muffle your moans before a dance competition, empty bedrooms in frat parties with one of you getting pushed onto the bed

It was an infernal coupon from hell : Find one archrival, get a fuck buddy free of cost!

Of course, there were side effects

“Did you just walk out of that empty classroom with Jung Wooyoung? After class hours?” “We were studying for the midterms!!”

“Uh.. Wooyoung, who was that leaving the dorm building? at 1 in the morning?” “uh yEAH WE WERE DOING THE PROJECT YEAH.”

Yeah, a boyfriend sounds nice but an archenemy you can make out with in secret sounds ravishingly pleasing-

When the boy in question is a certain young man with double toned hair with a penchant for leather jackets and out-of-line snark, you couldn’t agree more.

Yes, this is a revamp and repost from my main account xD. Like I said, this was self indulgence to the peak 😩 I'm a tad whipped for snarky boy Jung Wooyoung 😀

Do lemme know what you think ^_^. xoxo, A💕

Possibly interested parties: @aliceu​ @whiteprincessofnohr​

(drop me an ask to be added or removed! )

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter I: Let’s Party!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: strong language, use of alcoholic beverages, drunken antics, ?? jackson wang is throwing a party?? (jk he’s not aljsks. changbin is tho), nothing filthy in this chapter, unfortunately :/ just plot build up

Chapter word count: 2.6k words

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

Haven University; school of the elite. From the academically inclined to the artistically blessed, only those who were gifted with such talents are accepted to augment their potential. The perfect school for the sensational.

...And like every other school with young hormonal adults, also the perfect school for a good fuck.

“Another outstanding submission, Y/n! Keep up the great work!”

You smiled at your photography teacher, Mr. Kim, bowing humbly as you thanked him. You were proud. Praise after praise for your picture taking skills only heightened your motivation to be the best even more. Photography has always been your passion. Ever since you were given your very first camera at the age of 5 years old- which, in retrospect, was actually a toy camera, you already knew that it is something you would want to pursue.

In the middle of your teacher’s praises with another student, the bell rang. “Looks like we ran out of time, folks. Great job again, Seungmin. Everyone, class dismissed,” he said, jokingly using shooing gestures. “Now hurry up and get out of my face, you delinquents. Lunch time awaits. Go replenish your life force.”

You began gathering your belongings, slinging your precious DSLR camera around your neck. “Outstanding submission, young photographer.” You heard someone say. You turned around to see Seungmin grinning at you.

You snort out a laugh. “Thanks. Great job to you too, Seungmo.” Seungmin was about to respond when your instructor’s voice interrupted.

“Oh. Except Y/n. Please stay a little bit after class, for me, dear.” You and Seungmin shared a glance, nodding for him to go ahead without you. He pats your shoulder, bidding you goodbye. You continued packing your things into your bag. As the rest of the students left the room, you walked towards Mr. Kim’s desk, waiting for his word. “Hello, Y/n.”

“Hello, sir. You wanted to talk to me?”

“Ah yes. I wanted to ask you this,” your instructor paused, sitting on his desk. “How much do you love photography?”

You paused, wanting to convey the exact feelings you wanted to express. “Photography is an escape for me,” you answered. “It’s another form of art that helps people convey the emotions and stories people want to tell. Some people express their emotions through music and lyrics, others through paintings, and others through dance. For me, personally, I’m not all that good in any of those aspects, sir. That is why I work so hard when it comes to this class, and in photography in general.” You unconsciously caressed the camera slung around your neck. “And to me, the stories behind a photo is a lot more intimate in a way that I just can’t explain.”

“Because...this is the only way for you to express yourself? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” You nodded. Mr. Kim hummed in thought. “I see.” He stood up and walked to you, placing his warm hands on your shoulder. “I admire you, kid.”

“You...admire me?” You were confused. The teacher admires his student? Isn’t it usually the other way around?

“Oh yeah. Is that hard to believe?”

“Uhm...Kinda, yeah.”

Mr. Kim laughed mirthfully, amused by your bewilderment and doubt. “Well, believe it. You have spunk. Soul. Your work impart emotions I have never seen from my other students before. You’re passionate about what you do, and I like that. You take digital arts very seriously.”

You laughed awkwardly, the amount of praise your instructor was giving you made you happy. “I do, sir. Kinda a shame not a lot of people even consider it an art.”

“Indeed,” he replied, sitting down on his desk. “Which is why I wanted to give you an impromptu assignment. I want to assign you a story telling type of assignment; to write a story using your photography skills, if that makes sense.”

“Hm, yes? I think I get a jist of what you're trying to tell me.”

“Excellent. I just want to use this to monitor your skills, Y/n. You’re a very talented person, the most talented I’ve ever had even. I just want to see how much of that potential you really have so I can help you blossom it into something greater.”

“Oh,” you draw out, somewhat understanding why he picked you. “I see, sir. I’m honored that you’ve picked me.”

“You should,” he joked. “Now, I want you to photograph the following- write or type this down before you forget.” You hastily whipped out your phone from your pocket. “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay. I want you to capture the perfect scenes. Give me something that gives you joy. Something that makes you emotional, good or bad or even both, if you can. Something you fear, and finally, something that you love unconditionally. These are all supposed to be different photos, by the way. Got that?”

You finished typing a few seconds later. “And...got it.”

“Awesome!” he smiled. “Just know that I’ll be giving you only 3 months to complete the assignment. I hope that this isn’t too much to ask of you, but I’m sure someone as ambitious as you doesn’t mind, right?”

“Nope, sir! Everything will be a-okay!”

“I’m glad! Now move along and get to the canteen already. I’m sure you’re just as hungry as I am.”

You giggled, making your way to the door. “Thank you sir! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Oh, finally! There you are! We were starving waiting for you!” You rolled your eyes at Minho, who immediately decided to pick on you the second you entered his field of sight.

“Shut up, you could’ve eaten without me you know?”

“Nah, cause what kind of friends would we be if you ate without you?”

“You just want to steal some of my food, don’t you?”

Minho scoffed and went quiet, prompting Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin to laugh. “Caught you red-handed, Hyung,” Hyunjin teased, which backfired immediately causing him to chant an apology after Minho gave him a look.

“So why did you take so long, Y/n?” Jeongin asked.

“Oh, Mr. Kim wanted to give me an extra assignment.”

“Extra assignment?” Seungmin questioned. “What for?”

You shrugged, sitting down. “Uh, to test me? I’m not sure but I honestly think that there’s something more behind it. Not in like a bad way, just to clarify. I mean, he did acknowledge that I’m the best in his class after all.”

Seungmin snorted. “I just know you meant that unironically.” You jokingly blew a raspberry at him.

“Of course Y/n is the best!” Hyunjin stuck his chin up. “Let’s be honest, anyone could be the best if they use me as their model!”

“Hey, Hyunjin? You wanna eat this straw?” Minho threatened, making Hyunjin shut up.

“No...?”

“Good. Get off your high horse, prince charming.”

The three of you laughed. “Poor Hyunjin,” Jeongin sympathized sardonically.

“Hyunjin please stick to dancing and uh- not dying,” you said. “I still need you alive for some more upcoming projects.”

“For me too,” said Seungmin. “I might start using you as my model as well.”

Hyunjin fake cried, “Y’all just like me for my looks!”

“I mean, there’s no denying you are incredibly handsome but we like your personality too, Hyunie, don’t worry,” you cheered him up, then turned to Jeongin. “What about you, Yeni? How’re you holding up now that Lix is gone?”

Jeongin gasped. “I miss him! I’m so lonely now, especially when I have theatre! I feel so awkward now that girls swarm up to me instead- and you know I’m a shy boy!”

“Hey! At least you’re more popular now!” Minho laughed.

“Well, now we have no choice but to remember Felix in our hearts,” Seungmin replied.

“I’m not fucking dead. I just switched majors!” the four of you turned to see Felix pouting at you all.

“Well, you’re dead to me!” Jeongin wailed. “Going from a theatre major to a dance major. How could you?!”

Felix chuckled, sitting down between Seungmin and Jeongin. “I’m sorry! You know I’ll still see you though, buddy!”

“Why don’t you just switch to a regular vocal major next semester, Yeni?” you asked.

“Nah. I originally did want to go for just regular vocal studies but, you know, even if I did accidently sign up for the class, I ended up finding something else I wanna do. Plus, theatre is surprisingly fun! You know, find something new that’ll change your life every day.”

“Yup! Especially since they often collab with the dance majors so we get to see each other a lot!” Hyunjin beamed while Minho nodded in acknowledgment.

“Oh, speaking of dancing,” Minho chimed in. “You guys wanna go to a party I was invited to?”

“No,” Seungmin immediately responded.

“No, not you, I knew you would say no. I meant the others.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I was invited to the same party you’re talking about, so yeah.”

“Can’t,” Felix replied. “I’m still getting used to my new major and I still have a few assignments to catch up on.”

Jeongin hummed in agreement. “Same here. We have a play coming up soon and I’m a lead this time, so I gotta stay home to rehearse as much as I can.”

Minho made a stank face, “Aww. Lame.” He turned to you. “What about you, Y/n? You down?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Really?” All 5 boys looked at you incredulously.

“Yeah. I might find some inspiration while I’m there. Besides you know I’ll just be leeching off of Hyunie and Min the whole time.”

Minho and Hyunjin high-fived, cheering a quiet ‘yes!’ Hyunjin giggled. “This is great cause we might need a designated back up driver in case I get drunk and Minho-hyung abandons me!”

“Now that you’ve said that, I might seriously consider that,” Minho grinned. “We’ll pick you up at 8 sharp! Y/n!”

‘8:53pm’ You wanted to go home already.

The boys, true to their word, picked you up at 8:00pm. With little to no traffic- and the fact that Hyunjin actually got ready early so that they wouldn’t be an hour late- the three of you made it to the party around 8:20pm. Even then there were already a lot of people there.

“What the fuck. This house is huge!” you gawked. “Can you even consider this a house still?!”

Hyunjin shrugged. “I’d say this more of a mansion at this point.” All you do mutter a constant chant of ‘what the fuck. what the fuck’ over and over again. “Who’s house is this again, Minho?”

“Changbin’s, remember? Jisung said they’re celebrating in his house,” Minho replied.

“Well this Changbin dude is LOADED,” you mused. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the elegance of the house, which most likely costs more than your entire tuition. “I’d hate to be the one who has to clean up the place.” The boys lead you to the kitchen, helping you avoid the crowd cause, in your words, ‘ew yucky people’. There, they brought you to two men wearing all black, who were hanging out on the island counter. Their names were Changbin- the handsome rich boy who owns the house, the lucky bastard- and Chan- another handsome rich boy with the cutest laugh and dimples, both really sweet and hilarious men, whom you very much enjoyed talking to...

That was the last memory you had before it went downhill.

It took 33 minutes and 4 soju bottles later for Hyunjin to get drunk. Chan and Changbin were back at the booth, manning the song list for the night while Minho was somewhere with some guy in a red beanie doing absolutely nothing, so here you were: stuck babysitting your best friend. “Y/n! Y/n!”

You sighed hearing Hyunjin drunkenly call you. Again. “Yes, Hyunie?”

“I looove you~!” he sang while giving you finger hearts, rocking on the balls of his feet. You sighed again, rubbing your temple.

“Yeah yeah. I know. Love you too.”

“Y/n!” Your left eye twitched. You whipped out your phone from your bra to text Minho.

Me: You bitch.

Help me

Minho ho ho 😼: Hi

No

You glowered. You quickly glanced up to check Hyunjin, who was now sitting on the carpeted floor in front of you, counting his luscious black hair.

Me: He’s-he’s counting his hair… Please get him. It’s like watching a bird repeatedly hitting glass

Minho ho ho 😼: At least he’s not making any trouble now, is he?

He fucking jinxed it. Hyunjin stood up with a shocked look on his face. “What’s wrong, Hyunjin?”

“It’s my favorite song!” he cheered, starting to dance along. You have to admit, even when he’s drunk, he’s still an exceptional dancer. Texting Minho a quick ‘fuck you’. You put your phone back between your breasts to go back to monitoring him, preparing yourself in case you needed to tackle Hyunjin down.

“Heyyy, Y/n!” Minho suddenly draped his arm around your shoulder. Taking your eyes off of Hyunjin, you glared at your lazy, backstabbing friend, shoving his arm off of you.

“Asshole, you’re ten minutes late.”

“Oh I'm not here for Hyunjin. I need your phone.” You look at him audaciously.

“What the- why?”

“My-uh-phone died?” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Your eyes briefly flickered towards Minho’s friend, who, in return, looked down bashfully, red faced. Hm. Weird. You rolled your eyes, nonchalantly reaching into your shirt to get your phone. Minho didn’t even hide his grimace. He cringed, “It’s warm...and wet?”

“Shut up. I’m sweating, okay? And I don’t have any pockets on me.”

Minho nodded, going back to his little friend. Before you could scold him, you heard Hyunjin screaming. You turned around to find him running to the front door. Oh shit. You started pushing people to run after him

You groaned in disgust, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of here. You pushed your way out of the crowd, cringing at the feeling of touching numerous dirty, unknown people. Where in the world is the fucking exit? In the midst of the sweaty, drunken bodies, your eyes met. It was like time had stopped; no one within the vicinity seemed to not have mattered anymore. With just a smirk and a flirty wink from the chubby-cheeked boy in the red beanie, you knew…

...you just had to fuck him

Hold on, Y/n. Your friend might get fucking ran over! You snapped out of it. With a flustered face, you continued shoving your way through, wrangling Minho on the way. “Come on, fucker. You’re helping me. Let’s go,” you sneered while Minho complained.

After 30 minutes of chasing and wrestling, the drunken beast was tamed. The night ended with Minho driving you all home instead while you and Hyunjin cuddled in the backseat against your will. Minho took great pleasure in knowing that he wasn’t Hyunjin’s cuddle buddy, laughing every time you tried unlatching yourself from him, which made the long haired boy cry. Your sadistic friend dropped you home first, apologizing for not being much of a help tonight. “To make it up to you, I have something for you,” he suspiciously said, wiggling his eyebrows, before giving your phone back and driving off.

You relaxed on your bed, happy that you were rid of those dirty, smelly clothes. You grabbed your phone to text Minho. Assuming that the messages app was left on your conversation with him, you started texting, not paying any mind to the fact that the chat was blank.

Me: Thanks for taking me I guess. I didn’t get anything other than unwanted kisses from Hyunjin ew but it’s aight.

Speaking of aight…Do you think you can give me your friend’s number? 👁👁 The one with the red beanie.

Cause sir, not to be nsfw or anything but he is one fine ass man that I’d like to fuck

Almost immediately, the three bubbles appeared. You were surprised that Minho would reply that fast, thinking we was still on the road with Hyunjin. The reply you got, however, made your heart drop.

Min’s hoe: uh...hi? 👋🏻

this is minho’s “fine ass friend with the red beanie” 👁👁

Shitshitshitshit SHIT

[NEXT CHAPTER]

A/n: Sorry no smut in this chapter just plot build up :(( (which i’m a sucker for) and a lot of dialogue. But Trust me. Everything written in this chapter will fall into place with the future chapters. And who know, next chapter might be 🥵

[hanseoxsimp]

Gummy Bears - Jang Hanseok x Hanseo

One-shot, requested by @swaggy-tea and @taewithalottlesuga, an au where someone isn’t a psycho

A/N: bolded words are words Hanseok says in English; hope you enjoy reading!

Hanseo doesn’t really enjoy video games. Or board games. Or any sort of game really.

He views it as unnecessary stress, tasks and missions that weren’t worth the small amount of satisfaction one receives in the end. On the other hand however, is Jang Hanseok. That young man- looks will deceive- is purely childish at heart.

Hanseok carries a pack of Haribos everywhere he goes, has Candy Crush downloaded on his phone and a penguin plushie resting in the corner of his office. His personality is so loud, so vibrant, so... annoying.

When Jang Hanseok was announced the new Chairman of Babel, Hanseo did not hesitate one millisecond to pass the position over to him.

If Hanseo didn’t enjoy video games, he most definitely did not enjoy being like a pawn amongst the wealthy elites of the country. Constantly feeling like an NPC to his own body, he might as well kiss Hanseok out of gratitude for taking the position away from him. Although, that man ended up placing Hanseo as Vice Chairman.

Not the best, considering how Hanseo just wanted to fly away and live a life full of secrecy in Malta, but Jang Hanseo will endure it. Like how he always has.

One month ago, a Korean-American man walked up to him and said they were half brothers. Two weeks ago, his new half brother moved in with him, inspecting every crook and cranny his mansion had offered. One week ago, his “hyung” had assimilated the Chairman seat and now was working in the same chair Hanseo had once resided.

If one should say, “ work at Babel is tiring,” that would be a clear understatement in Hanseo’s eyes. Working at Babel meant restless nights, empty coffee cups piling on the floor, dark circles beneath eyes, bleary vision after each all-nighter and so much more.

So Hanseo did not understand why his new hyung had seemed to be in perfect shape.

Jang Hanseok appeared to look healthy, like he got 10 hours of sleep each night and never had reeked of coffee. Maybe it was an American thing, Hanseo pondered, the ability to look completely fine.

He rested his head against his knuckles, his elbow propping his whole arm up against the sleek dark oak desk. The world felt heavy. The air, his own head and eyelids.

Just as he slipped into an abyss of sleep-

Tap! T- Tap! Tap! T- Tap! Tap!

Sharp, rhythmic taps awoke him with a start. His whole body jolted up, and his drowsiness washed away as if someone had dumped ice cold water on him.

“ My dongsaeng!” The single English word prefixing the sentence was a dead giveaway to letting Hanseo know who it was.

“ Han- Hanseok hyung.” He greeted politely, standing up to give a respectful bow.

The Chairman shook his head, “ Hey, we’re brothers. No need for all that.” He comfortably slung an arm around Hanseo’s shoulder and the younger wondered if all Americans acted like this.

Hanseok then nonchalantly sat on top of his desk, disregarding the fact he was also sitting on a small pile of papers.

He popped a gummy bear into his mouth. “ Are you tired? Your skin doesn’t have that... glow that it normally does.”

Hanseo had no clue what English word was uttered but he nodded. “ Just a lot of paperwork nowadays.” Why was he so nervous? It was like a gut feeling that made him feel afraid of Hanseok. It was odd. He barely knew his brother.

“ Do you want a break?” Hanseok followed up with a very intriguing offer.

§

Hanseo doesn’t like video games. Or any sort of games. But if he had to choose between playing games or sorting out piles of worksheets, he’d rather pick the first option.

“ Try this!” Hanseok excitedly called him over to a shooting game, the place was adorned with plushies that would be given as prizes.

The arcade his hyung had taken him to was packed, and Hanseo never relished in crowds or public spaces like these.

Hesitant as always, Hanseo gripped the plastic gun and leveled himself to the sight, moving it to align with the water ballon target. A finger on the neon green trigger, he pressed down and the fake bullet missed the balloon by the slightest inch.

“ Oh, that was close!” Hanseok pipped up, walking over to get his turn. His competitive nature seemed to bloom as he added on, “ You should’ve aimed properly.”

Hanseo scoffed, giving his brother space to take his turn.

Hanseok’s face softened as he suddenly asked, “ Which one do you want?”

His younger brother blinked in slow motion. What? “ What?” He voiced his confusion out loud.

“ I said, which one do you want?” He repeated, gesturing to the plushies that were hanging on the ceiling and walls.

He didn’t know why, but he ended up blushing. No one had ever done these kinds of things for him. Hanseo sharply turned away from his hyung, embarrassed at the red that colored his cheeks.

Hanseok suppressed a chuckle, “ Come on~” He whined in English, “ Hurry up and pick!”

“ Uh...” Hanseo faced the prizes and scanned each one of them. All of them looked boring, too vivid and childish-

“ The puppy one.” He mumbled, his eyes set on the golden retriever plushie that was beside a very colorful stuffed unicorn.

His older half brother smiled mischievously. “ Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can you say that again?” Causing Hanseo to roll his eyes at the very obvious motive.

He cleared his throat and glanced at the floor. “ The puppy one at the top left.” He repeated clearly, and Hanseok hummed satisfied.

The Chairman raised the toy gun to his eyes, squinting as he aimed. Pulling the trigger, he had hit the first target flawlessly.

“ Woah!” Hanseo said in awe, well aware his brother hadn’t gone to the military yet so this skill was purely cultivated by himself.

Hanseok grinned victoriously, winking at the younger man. “ I’m gonna get it for you.” He clarified, pointing at the puppy plushie.

“ Hyung, you don’t need to-“

“ Oh, but I want to.” He cut the protest off, picking up the toy gun again to hit the second target.

Pop!

The second water balloon was down, meaning there was only one left. “ One more...” Hanseok muttered under his breath, placing his finger on the trigger.

Pop!

“ YES!” He cheered, pumping his fist in the air.

Hanseo cracked a genuine smile, seeing his hyung act like that.

Maybe he wasn’t so annoying after all.

§

“ I did well, didn’t I?” Hanseo piped up. A couple of hours had passed by in the arcade and the two had completely warmed up to each other’s company.

“ Mhm.” Hanseok replied, slinging an arm around his shoulder, gazing down at how adorably Hanseo was clutching the plushie. “ You deserve to be my brother.” He jokingly added on and the other simply scoffed.

“ By the way, you haven’t told me where we’re going yet.” His younger brother said, lips showing the tiniest amount of pouting.

“ We’re almost there,” Hanseok replied, “ See?” He pointed to the store before them, “ An ice cream shop!” He pulled away to make dramatic jazz hands.

Hanseo grinned a cute gummy smile that the older was slowly getting used to. “ Gosh, hyung, you-“

Hanseok immediately placed a single finger on his lips, hushing him. “ Zip it, we’re eating to our hearts content today.” Boldly, Hanseok reached out to his half brother’s unoccupied hand and intertwined their fingers. “ Let’s go!”

“ AH!” Hanseo yelped from the sudden pull, tightening his grip on the stuffed animal.

The glass doors opened with a chime, and the first thing Jang Hanseo noticed was the emptiness of the place.

“ Hyung...” He began, the realization sinking in, “ Did you-“

“ Reserve this?” Hanseok finished off the question, “ Yeah, I did.” He beamed proudly, “ I kinda forgot at first that you didn’t like crowded areas. Sorry.”

Did Hanseo’s heart skip a beat? He wasn’t sure. But he did know that he felt loved. Appreciated. He felt warm inside, like something bubbling at the pit of his stomach. “ Thank you..” He said, unable to find more suitable words.

“ Nah, don’t thank me.” Hanseok waved it off, “ Come on, let’s take a seat.” He changed the topic with ease, dragging the other along to a circular turquoise table.

One of the staff walked out and headed towards them. After basic greetings, they pulled out a notepad. “ What would you both like?”

Is this a fancy restaurant or something? Why is there a waitress-

“ Hanseo-ah, what do you want?” His brother’s question snapped him out of his thoughts.

“ Uh... I’ll have the double chocolate chip ice cream.” He scrambled to pick one quickly, his social anxiety not wanting to drag the conversation on further.

“ And you, sir?” The waitress turned to Hanseok.

“ Classic vanilla. With gummy bear toppings.” He answered curtly, and the lady quickly wrote it down before scurrying away.

A minute or so passed when the Jang brothers were handed their orders. Hanseo’s mouth watered at the sight of the extra chocolate drizzle that was placed on top of it all for free.

Hanseok smiled, “ I guess you like chocolate a lot?”

Hanseo nodded eagerly as he grabbed his spoon to dig in. After wiping some ice cream off his chin with the back of his hand, he decided to reply. “ And I guess you like gummy bears a lot?”

Hanseok chuckled, “ I love them.” His smile dropped a bit though, but the sparkles in his eyes remained. “ Hey, you got a little stuck beside your lips.” He pointed at Hanseo’s face, and the younger man immediately picked up a napkin and began cleaning the wrong side.

“ No- no,” Hanseok sighed,” Come on, let me do it.” He stood up and reached over the table, taking his thumb and gently wiping the ice cream off Hanseo’s face.

Hanseo immediately tensed under such soft touch, not really knowing why he was expecting something harsh.

“ O- oh, thanks.” He stuttered, focusing on the ice cream before him.

“ Mhm.” Hanseok continued to munch on his gummy bears, before scooping one out with his spoon. “ Wanna try?”

“ No, it’s okay you can have it.” He declined, this brother of his was already giving him way too much affection than what he was used to.

“ Say ‘ahh,’” Hanseok prompted, holding the spoon in front of his dongsaeng’s mouth as if he were a baby.

Hanseo blushed- out of being flustered or embarrassed- he’ll never know. He looked up into the Chairman’s eyes and regretted it right away.

The twenty something year old man was making puppy eyes. It sort of reminded him of the plushie he got today, big and cute. Sighing, Hanseo reluctantly opened his mouth.

“ There you go.” Hanseok grinned, and watched as the younger chewed on the gummy bear.

Hanseo didn’t have the heart to tell him that he actually despised gummy bears with all his being. But then again, Hanseo didn’t really like Hanseok or games at first. Now his point of view had changed.

Maybe he could grow to love gummy bears too.

[dweetwise]

i’ve been kinda quiet while finishing a project over on ao3, but now i’m back with some riconti to share <3

ship: felix x ace (only implied; can be read as platonic if you wish!)

word count: 1640

Someone to Lean On

"—and I thought for sure she wouldn't pick me up! I ran straight into her after being unhooked, but she didn’t even hesitate calling my bluff. Well played, Spirit!"

Felix kept half-listening as Ace rambled on about their latest trial. They were walking back to the campfire together through the fog, having both been sacrificed by the ruthless katana-wielding killer.

It wasn't uncommon for Ace to wait around for him in the plane of nothingness if he didn't survive the trial. Felix had lost count of how many times he'd regained consciousness only to see the familiar, smiling figure calling over to him through the fog.

He wondered if Ace knew how much he appreciated the gesture. The gambler’s friendly banter was always a welcome distraction from the harrowing experience of having every fiber of his being torn to shreds and consequently be reassembled.

But this time was different. Felix could barely make out Ace's words, his own thoughts sounding deafening inside his head despite the silence of the fog. His body didn't feel like his own; it was like the Entity's claws were still twisting and turning around his insides. 

Felix’s feet dragged behind him and when they eventually came to a stop, Ace stopped right with him and patiently waited for their journey to continue. Only once Felix made no move to do so did the Argentine’s brilliant smile falter from uncertainty. 

"Felix?" Ace asked.

"I can't do it," Felix said.

According to people back at the campfire, it had been over a year since Felix was taken into this horrible realm. It felt even longer than that; with nothing in this world but means to make them suffer, Felix was starting to forget the things he used to enjoy.

"Sure you can, champ!" Ace grinned.

Felix knew Ace was trying to be encouraging. He knew he should go back to his play-act, should plaster on a fake smile and brush off his struggles as nothing more than a bad trial, like he’d done countless times before.

But he couldn’t.

"No," Felix said, a surprising determination in his voice. "You don't understand."

“What do you mean?” Ace asked.

Felix wasn’t sure how to describe it. The more he thought about this world and the absolute wrongness of it, the harder it was to pinpoint its exact cause.

He felt lightheaded and almost delirious. It was like he was in a dream; a terrible nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. Nothing in this place made sense, yet all this time he had accepted it as truth. What if it was all a figment of his imagination?

"Is any of this real?" Felix asked.

Ace’s smile made way for a confused frown, and his expression was the only thing in their surroundings that looked lifelike. The unnatural fog surrounding them felt neither damp nor cold, the unending darkness somehow allowed them to see perfectly, and even though there was nothing to guide them they still knew exactly which way to go.

Felix felt his breathing pick up as he only now seemed to realize the vast emptiness of nothing they were standing in. He’d been here countless times before but never fully aware of it, and his heart was racing as he frantically looked around, feeling the terror rising in his chest—

Until a warm hand was placed on his shoulder. 

"Hey, deep breaths," Ace said, turning Felix to face him.

The touch helped to ground him and the panic started to fade as Felix looked into familiar brown eyes. Ace felt real, but how could he be sure?

"It doesn't make any sense," Felix said. "The Entity doesn’t exist. It simply can’t."

Ace said nothing. Whether he was giving Felix space to speak or thought he’d finally lost his mind, Felix didn’t know.

"What if this is just a nightmare? What if I'm going crazy—having some sort of episode from work stress, and I'm really hospitalized in an institution?" Felix said, his frantic eyes finding Ace's. "What if I'm in a coma, or—or I died, and this is all my brain shutting down? What if this isn't real?"

Felix realized he was shaking. Ace looked at him silently; like he was pondering what to say. Felix didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so serious.

Abruptly, the embarrassment hit. Felix broke eye contact and stepped back. Even if he was losing it, he didn't need to drag Ace into this—

"So what?" Ace asked.

"What?"

"If you wake up in a hospital tomorrow and realize none of this was real, what does it matter?" Ace said. "It's not gonna change that this feels real."

Felix was silent, mulling over the words.

"I think that, sometimes, it's best to just take things at face value," Ace continued. "Fucked-up things like the Entity exist? Alright. One of them yoinked us into its world for fun? Sure. Whether we like it or not, right now we're stuck here—might as well try to make the most of it."

"Don't you want answers?" Felix asked.

"What I want is to get the hell out of here," Ace huffed dryly.

Felix couldn’t remember Ace ever talking about an escape before. The gambler had always seemed surprisingly well-adjusted to their predicament, but he should have known that even the most optimistic person would be eager for the chance to find a way out of this nightmare.

"But since that's not on the table, I'll take the next best thing of living to see another day," Ace said. "And if I wake up in a real bed tomorrow and it was all a dream? Even better."

"Have you never thought about it? That this could just be a product of your mind?" Felix asked.

"Briefly, yeah," Ace said. Then he smiled. "But then I remembered how shit my imagination is. No way I would've been able to come up with something like this."

Felix huffed out a dry chuckle despite the situation.

"But it's probably easier for me," Ace said. "I know you tend to overthink things. And with the kind of year you've had? I'm kinda surprised you've adjusted so well."

Felix hadn’t thought about it that way. After the numerous panic attacks and freezing from fear in his first trials, Felix never considered himself particularly well-adjusted to his new existence. He owed most of his meager success to the people around him, always there to lend a hand and pull Felix up when he wasn't strong enough to do it himself.

And most of the time, that person had been Ace.

"I had some help," Felix said, offering a hesitant smile.

"Ah, true—almost forgot about Élodie," Ace grinned. "Must be nice, having a friend like that in a place like this."

Felix didn't have the heart to correct the assumption. Having the familiar face of a childhood friend among their teammates had no doubt been beneficial for both Felix and Élodie while they learned to survive this new world.

But it wasn't Élodie who had been by Felix's side those first months. It wasn’t her encouraging words that got through to Felix when he felt paralyzed from inaction, or her who took the time to involve him in the group when Felix was too lost in his own head to participate.

"It really makes a world of difference, having a good friend," Felix said.

Ace kept looking at him, until his face spread into a bright smile at the realization.

"Well, in that case, can I offer you some friendly advice?" Ace asked.

"Of course," Felix agreed.

"Don't get too wrapped up in the 'how's and 'why's," Ace said. "It's just gonna consume you. And…"

Felix waited as Ace paused in an unusual gesture of uncertainty.

"I'd hate to lose you," Ace said.

He was still smiling pleasantly, but his eyes betrayed his real emotion; it was the first time Felix had seen genuine fear in Ace's eyes. And it wasn't from a brutal mori or the hopelessness that they might never escape.

It was from the possibility of losing Felix.

"Alright," Felix said. "I'll try."

"It's a start," Ace said, his demeanor back to the usual playfulness. "You ready to head back?"

Felix realized he felt much calmer now than only minutes prior. There was still an uneasiness in the back of his mind due to the unspeakable horrors that haunted them on a daily basis, but he felt grounded. This wasn't just about him; no matter whether it aligned with the objective truth, this was their reality.

"I think so, yes," Felix said.

"'Atta boy," Ace said. 

Ace's hand left his shoulder, and Felix immediately missed its warmth. The moment of camaraderie they had shared was exactly what he had needed. Even Ace seemed more at ease, his smile relaxed as he fell into step beside Felix.

"By the way," Ace said conversationally. "If this is all in your head, could I request you make it a little… I don't know, less guts and gore, more flowers and booze?"

Felix chuckled. "I can try."

"Oh, and while you're at it, can you give me one of those makeovers?" Ace said. "Make me like ten years younger? I think I’d look great in brown hair—ooh, and a six pack too!"

Felix listened to Ace ramble with a smile. It would never cease to amaze him how the seemingly lighthearted man could go from joking to serious and right back to silly banter in just a few short moments. Ace was like a bolt of lightning; chaotic in nature and gone in the blink of an eye, but always managing to calm the storm in Felix’s head.

"Ace?" Felix asked, interrupting Ace still talking about his hair.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Felix said.

Ace’s smile flashed bright and warm in the darkness surrounding them.

"Anytime."

[aquaticstyles]

unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Curiosity Killed The Cat | Owen Patrick Joyner

Requested: Yes/No

Hi! I was wondering if you can do an Owen imagine kinda based off his Instagram story of him finding a cat. I was thinking he’d actually find the missing cat though and come ring your doorbell at 4am bc he’s chaotic. You can decide everything. Thank you in advance!!!

A/N: The cat doesn’t actually die in this, it’s just a saying that i liked for the title, so don’t worry! It’s got a happy ending!

Pairing: Owen x Fem!Reader

Song(s) used: none 

Warnings: none

Words: 3,949

A week. It had been exactly one week since y/n last saw her cat, Tunabean. The white, grey striped Ragamuffin cat had been absent from y/n’s apartment for way longer than she normally would be and it worried y/n to the point where she’d be out looking for the little rascal every night after work. 

“Found her yet?” Jamila asked as she entered y/n’s apartment after coming home from work. 

Jamila was y/n’s roommate and best friend since college. The two had lived together through their college career and decided to be roommates after too, as long as neither had significant others to go live with. 

“No,” y/n’s lip stuck out into a pout as she feverishly reposted the message on all her social media platforms. “People have been tearing down my posters as well. Did you see the ones near Andrews Park? They were torn to shreds!” 

Jamila pulled her lips into a tight smile before putting her bags on the dining room table and joining y/n on the couch. “Yeah, I saw. I’m really sorry, y/n. If you want, we can go and put up some more posters? Exchange the torn up ones with some fresh ones?”

“You’d do that for me?” 

“Of course! Sweetie, I’d do anything to get little Bean home, you know that, right?” y/n nodded her head in response, though she wasn’t sure if she knew that. 

Jamila wasn’t the biggest fan of Tunabean at first. She hated cats. Growing up, she’d always had a dog but never a cat. She didn’t trust the little rascals for one second. So, when y/n showed up with little Tunabean after having had what felt like the worst week of her life, Jamila was a tiny bit angry. But eventually warmed up to Tunabean when the little kitty seemed so placid, you could easily cuddle up to it on the sofa. 

“Let’s go find Zach at his work, bribe him to print me more posters for cheap, hang ‘em up around town and then maybe Tino’s?” Jamila’s eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite restaurant. 

She snapped her fingers and pointed finger guns at her best friend. “Sounds like a plan!” she said and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. It was a cold November day and no person could leave their house consciously without being bundled up into layers and layers of clothing.  

“I hope Bean didn’t hide under a car and the owner didn’t tap the hood before getting in…” y/n muttered, her voice thick with worry, as they exited the apartment building and stepped into the blistering cold. 

“I’m sure she just found a few boyfriends and is spending her time with them,” Jamila tried to reassure her, but knew all-too-well that Tunabean wouldn’t stay away this long, even if she had a lover cat to make little kittens with. She loved Jamila and y/n’s home too much. 

“Are you slut shaming my cat right now?” 

“Our cat,” Jamila corrected, causing a smile to find its way to y/n’s face, “And no, I am not. I’m just trying to be optimistic here, y/n.” Jamila tucked her cold hands into the pockets of her tan peacoat. “I’m sure Tunabean is alright.” 

“What if she isn’t though? What if she’s like meowing somewhere in the middle of Norman and no one to hear her pleas?” Jamila rolled her eyes at how dramatic her best friend was being.  

“Norman ain’t that big, sweetie. I’m sure if she’s meowing somewhere, we would’ve heard her already.” 

“Exactly! Which means she’s either dead or god knows anywhere! She could be in Oklahoma City! We don’t know that!” y/n exclaimed loudly, using excessive hand gestures more so to keep herself warm than emphasis. 

Jamila stopped in her tracks and grabbed y/n by the shoulders, stopping her too. “Stop being such a drama queen, y/n! I’m sure Tunabean is fine. Maybe she’s on an adventure or making new friends, you don’t know that!” 

“You don’t care about our child, admit it,” y/n muttered. This rendered Jamila silent. “Admit you don’t care about our child, Jam!” Passer-byers shot them a weirded out glare, which Jamila sent right back. 

“Oh, please! Don’t pretend there are no lesbian families in Norman too!” she yelled at them. The comical side of the whole situation made y/n laugh a tiny bit. “There’s that smile I like to see.” Jamila softly touched y/n’s chin with her knuckle before grabbing the girl’s hand in hers. The warmth of Jamila’s hand radiating through to y/n’s made her feel all toasty. “Let’s go print some posters!”  

The girls reached a one-storey building with red decrepit letters stuck to the roof. 

HOOPER PRINTING CO. 

As y/n opened the glass door and held it for Jamila to walk in, the smell of ink reached her nostrils. Though not a very traditional scent to love, it reminded y/n of one of her best friends. It was like  her brain just knew that the muscles in her cheeks would soon start to hurt thanks to Zachary. A boy the girls had met in college as Xana. 

Jamila spotted the bleached blonde mop of hair immediately and signaled to y/n to sneak up to him. On their tippy toes, the two approached the tall slender man, and when they were close enough, they took in a deep breath and-- “Don’t even think about it,” Zach mumbled without even looking at them. 

Jamila and y/n glanced at each other, cheeks puffed out from the breath they were holding. “How’d you--?” y/n didn’t even finish her sentence as she looked past Zach and her eyes landed on a tiny tv screen. Cameras, of course. 

“Since when do you have security cameras?” y/n asked as she hopped onto the counter Zach was sorting invoices on. 

He shrugged, “Sometime this week, I think.” His bright blue eyes met y/n’s as she sheepishly looked at him while kicking her legs. The boy sighed exasperated, knowing all too well what the girls are here for. “No. Not again.” 

“Please, Zachy! Tunabean is still missing and her posters have been ripped down!” Her eyes teared up at the thought of her kitty being out there all by herself in Norman. All she could hope was that the creepy dudes from Doyle’s didn’t get their filthy paws on her little princess. 

“Come on, Zach. You love that cat too!” Jamila chimed in, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at him knowingly. 

“Fine, come here,” he reached out his hand and y/n handed him the thumb drive on which she kept her self-made posters. “You’re gonna have to buy me Tino’s though.” 

“We were going there afterwards, if you wanna join?” y/n’s voice was teasing and sly. 

“I’m off at five,” he simply stated before pressing a few buttons on his desktop and waking up the printer closest to them. “How long has she been gone for?” he then asked after a few beats of silence. Y/N dropped her head and stared at her still moving legs for a moment. 

“About a week,” she replied. 

Zach pulled his lips into a tight smile. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on top of hers. “She’ll come back.” 

“How can you be so sure? She might be hurt somewhere or dead and I won’t even know. I won’t even be able to say goodbye to her.” Tears pooled in y/n’s eyes as she thought of the sweet little kitten she had found in a ‘take one for free’ box on a curb one day. She was the last one left. 

“I’m not sure, y/n. But I’d like to be optimistic. Besides, Tunabean is resilient and the most independent kitty I’ve ever known. She’ll survive. She’s probably out adventuring with some friends.” 

Though the words weren’t very reassuring and y/n knew she had every right to be worried, they did calm her down a little. Tunabean was resilient and extremely independent. She’ll find her way back home.    

*

“I’ll see you guys later, bye!” Owen waved at his friends as he stepped into the cold November night. It was 4 am and he was just returning home from a day spent with friends. He had fallen asleep during the movie, only waking up in the middle of the night, realizing his parents were probably worrying about him, seeing he’d told them he’d be home by midnight at the latest. 

He softly hummed along to the song that was playing in his head as he walked down West Main Street, his hands tucked deep into his pockets to try and keep them warm. He should’ve brought a thicker coat or a thicker jumper. 

“Ah, mister Joyner!” a familiar voice with a thick accent made him shake out of his train of thought about the cold. The friendly face of the robust Italian greeted him in the dim light of the restaurant behind him. 

“Still working, Tino?” Owen asked as he stopped in his tracks to talk to the man everyone in Norman, Oklahoma loved. 

“Already back at work, ragazzino!” he replied in his thick Italian accent. Owen always thought it was fake and just for show to lure clients, so that they knew he was a pure Italian man, sharing his love for the Italian cuisine in his restaurant. 

“At four in the morning?!” Owen exclaimed, stunned at the man’s determination for his job. 

“Deliveries don’t wait, signore.” His laugh boomed into the empty, dark streets of Norman. Owen couldn’t help but let out a laugh too while his eyes averted and landed on a poster in the window. A black-and-white picture of a small cat stared back at him.  

MISSING: TUNABEAN

Grey-and-white striped ragamuffin cat, listens to the name Tunabean. 

“She’s been missing for a week, the poor girl who owns her is worried sick,” Tino told Owen when he noticed what he was looking at. The blond twenty-year-old pressed his lips together. He only ever had a dog that had never run away, but he could imagine what it would be like to not know where your pet is. He would totally lose it if Bindi ever went missing. 

“I feel sorry for her,” Owen said, unsure of anything else to say. 

“Yeah, me too,” said Tino. “Keep an eye out for Tunabean, yeah?” 

“I will.” 

And with that, Owen continued his walk back home. The cat on the poster kept haunting his mind. Those big eyes were something he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Thanks to said image plastered in his brain, he even started hearing meowing when he got to Andrews Park. It was a soft, fragile meow that had to echo through his brain for a few seconds before he realized it actually came from the bushes he was walking past as he passed through Andrews Park. 

Curiously, and kind of feverishly, Owen started to dig into the shrubbery until he found a tiny cat. “Oh, don’t worry, little one. I got you.” He said as he carefully detangled it from the branches. As he held it up to his face, he found the big, round eyes from the poster staring back at him in real life. “Tunabean?” he cooed, and the cat tilted its head ever so slightly. 

He stroked the cat’s head and scratched behind her ear before pulling it closer into his chest. She was shivering, but Owen wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the fear. If she’d been missing for a week, God knows how long she must’ve been stuck in there. 

“You hurt, little one?” he mumbled to it as he absentmindedly made his way to the one person he knew could help. 

“Owen,” Emmy groaned when she’d opened the door to find him standing on the curb with a pout on his face. “It’s four in the morning, I have to be up in an hour for work.” 

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and showed her the cat he had tucked in his jacket to keep it warm. “I found her in the bushes near Andrews Park. Can you check if she’s okay?” Emmy’s eyes darted from the cat to Owen and back. “Please, Emmy? You’re the only one I know could help her out.” 

“Come on in,” she sighed, clearly disgruntled at the early wakeup call. But she couldn’t say no to a little kitty in need. She’d been rescuing animals since she was a little girl, she wasn’t going to leave this one in the dust. 

Owen placed the cat on the table as it meowed and nudged Owen’s hand with her head. “It’s okay, Tunabean, Emmy here is gonna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Tunabean?” Emmy asked as she put on latex gloves. 

“Yeah, I think it’s the cat from the missing posters you see all around town?” 

Emmy gingerly took the cat in her gloved hands and started her check-up. “Ah, yes! My brother and his buddies took some of them down, thinking they were ‘rebellious’.” She rolled her eyes. “You gonna bring her back?” 

“Of course, Tino said the owner was worried sick about her.” 

Emmy smiled at this. Owen had always been the compassionate one in their friend group. He’d only act upon things if he was sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Though, sometimes that compassion vanished when they were with their friends and he got a ‘brilliant’ idea, which was most likely kind of dangerous. 

“Oh, look,” Emmy whispered as she showed Tunabean’s paw. There was a thorn stuck in the little pad. “Poor thing! Hold her for a second, please? I’m gonna get my tweezers to get it out.” Owen placed a hand on the cat’s stomach, his fingers lightly scratching at the white fur. 

Emmy returned with everything she needed, and within a few seconds, Tunabean was freed from the thorn in her paw and back on her feet. She suddenly seemed a lot more peppy than she was before. 

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Owen said as he scooped the kitten back up into his arms, holding it close to his chest. Emmy took her gloves off and scratched the cat’s head. 

“Goodbye, Tunabean,” she cooed, earning licks from her rough little tongue. “Ooh, I think I got the girl’s address here somewhere. Tunabean is Anna’s client and we’ve got them in the system.” 

As quickly as she’d said it, she’d handed the address over to Owen. After thanking her profusely, Owen went on his way with the cat tucked safely in his jacket for warmth. 

He was nervous as it was already five in the morning and the woman most definitely was still asleep. But he didn’t want to keep her in even more suspense and worry about her cat as she already was. 

“Hello?” a sleepy voice sounded through the intercom. 

“Hi, I’m Owen, I think I got your cat, Tunabean?” 

A silence fell, only Tunabean’s sleepy snoring disrupting the peace and quiet of the night. The poor girl had fallen asleep in Owen’s arms. He almost felt sad he had to give her away again. 

It took a good minute before the door to the apartment building opened up and a girl in red flannel pj’s opened the door. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun with big strands falling out of it. Though she’d probably rather not be seen like this out in public, Owen thought she looked breathtaking, even in the dim light from the hallway of her corridor and the street lights. 

“You really got Tunabean?” she asked as she held onto the door, squishing herself in the small opening she’d granted herself. Owen opened his jacket and carefully showed her the cat who’d woken up from her slumber. “Tunabean!” the girl exclaimed and grabbed the grey pet from the boy’s hands. Their fingers brushed ever so slightly, and though y/n was too busy with her cat, Owen felt it. He felt the spark. 

“I would invite you inside for a drink to thank you, but my roommate is still asleep and I don’t want to wake her.” Owen held up his hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head. 

“That’s okay. I don’t need a reward. I’m just glad I could reunite the two of you again,” he said, smiling at the girl and her cat. “Oh! She did have a thorn in her paw though, but my friend is a vet and I took her to her for a check-up before I came here.” 

“Aw, poor Bean,” she scratched the cat’s head before turning back to the blonde boy. “Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.” He tipped his head forward, the smile still persistent on his lips. 

“Glad I could help,” he repeated, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket again. “I’m gonna go though. I’m sure you’d rather go back to sleep right now than talk to a complete stranger on your doorstep.” 

“Oh, uhm, okay… Goodbye then? And thank you again for bringing Tunabean back.” 

Owen took a few steps backwards as he said, “You’re most welcome. Goodbye, Tunabean and…” 

“Y/N.” 

“Goodbye Tunabean and y/n.” His eyes lingered on hers for a few more seconds before he turned around to really make his way home now, no distractions. 

“Wait! I didn’t catch yours!” she whisper-shouted after him. 

He turned again, but kept walking. “Owen,” he said. 

“Goodbye, Owen.” She grabbed Tunabean’s paw and waved at him with it, causing a giggle to rake through Owen’s body. With his hand still in his pocket, he waved back. 

The more distance he created between them, the bigger his smile became as he thought of her. She was the epitome of a beautiful dream come to life. It made him wonder what she’d look like if she did put effort into her appearance. That could just be the death of him. 

*

After two more hours of sleep, the alarm blaring through her room woke y/n from a beautiful dream with the mysterious blonde boy that rang her doorbell very early in the morning. It caused her to wake up with the thought of him, wondering if she’d ever see him again. 

“Morning,” she greeted Jamila when she found her best friend in the living room, gathering all her stuff. “Guess who came home last night!” As if on cue, the little cat pattered across the hardwood floor towards the dark beauty that was Jamila. Her eyes widened as did her smile upon seeing the white-and-grey ragamuffin. 

“Bean!” Jamila shrieked as she knelt down to pick the four-legged friend off the floor. “Oh, baby! I missed you!” She peppered the cat with kisses, receiving the kisses back from her tiny pink tongue. “Where’d you find him?” 

“Oh, I didn’t. This guy, Owen, did. He brought her back at, like, five in the morning,” y/n explained as she absentmindedly smiled at the thought of those pretty blue-ish eyes. 

“And this Owen guy is pretty cute, isn’t he?” Jamila asked upon noticing her best friend’s flustered demeanor. “Did you ask for his number?” Y/N rolled her eyes before she started gathering her things she needed for work. 

“It was five in the morning, I had just woken up and I was too busy with Tunabean’s return to even think of that,” she explained, mostly cursing at herself for not asking his number. “Besides, I looked disgusting, I doubt he thought I was the epitome of beauty.” 

Jamila simply shook her head, debating against saying any more about it before pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek and leaving the apartment. 

A silence fell over the space, leaving y/n alone with her thoughts. Her beautiful, yet annoying thoughts of the handsome boy at her front door. “He was handsome, wasn’t he, Tunabean?” she asked her cat, who simply tilted her head to the side as she sat in front of y/n on the floor. 

Once y/n had gathered her stuff for work today, she said goodbye to Tunabean and left the apartment. She was fumbling around in her handbag to look for her car keys when a vaguely familiar voice made her look up. 

The gorgeous blue eyes she’d been dreaming of for two whole hours were staring down at her whilst the plump pink lips curled up into a dreamy smile. “Oh, hey, Owen.” 

“I wanted to come and check up on Tunabean,” he carefully said, pointing up at the building she’d just come out of. “You know, see if she’s okay and stuff.” He suddenly seemed nervous. More nervous than he did at five in the morning. 

“Uhm, she’s okay, actually. Slept well and seemed very chipper this morning,” y/n reassured him, a smile playing at her lips as her eyes scanned his face. She made sure to make a mental note of every single detail of his face. Like how he stuck his tongue between his teeth as he smiled or how his eyes squinted slightly or the stubble faintly growing on his chin. 

“Oh, okay, good. That’s--that’s all, then…” He awkwardly coughed. 

Y/N awaited anything else, her eyes darting left and right as they just fumblingly stood on the curb in front of y/n’s apartment. “I-uhm… I have to get to work though, so…” She pointed somewhere behind Owen, indicating she needed to pass him and get going. 

“Right!” he said and took a step aside to let her through. She offered him a little wave and a soft ‘bye’ as she passed him. He watched her walk away, cursing at himself for not asking what he really wanted to ask. “Wait!” he yelled, making her stop in her tracks and turn around again with an expectant look on her face. “That’s-that’s not what I wanted to ask. I mean it was, but it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to ask.” He scratched the back of his neck as y/n’s eyes searched for an answer on his face. 

Y/N looked at him with a piercing glint in her eyes, urging him to continue. 

“Oh, right! Uhm… Would you -- would you maybe wanna go have a drink with me later today? Or something?” Her smile grew wider as she slowly nodded her head in response. 

“I’m off at five. Meet me at Gray Owl then,” she told him before turning to walk away. 

Owen was left on her curb, wondering if he had died. He thought she looked pretty when she’d just rolled out of bed, but now that she was all dolled up for work, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. And that smile. That smile was killer. 

She was more than the epitome of a dream come to life. She was beauty and grace. She was a poem and the poet. She was the lyrics and the melody. She was the question and the answer. 

Owen grew more and more curious about that girl the more he thought of her. He wanted to know what she liked and what she absolutely hated. He wanted to know how she laughed and how she cried, if she sang whenever her mind wandered. He wanted to know how she liked her eggs in the morning. 

Even though he knew curiosity killed the cat, he knew for a fact the cat in this story was just the beginning of something beautiful. 

 *

*

*

JATP taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti

Owen taglist: @alexpjoyner

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

[vivianweasley]

Love, George (George Weasley X Reader)

Prompt: This is for @weasleysflowr​‘s 300 writing challenge! “Can I tell you a secret” and “just shut up and kiss me”.

Summary: You have always loved Michael Corner but now he’s getting married and you are the bridesmaid. As cliche as it sounds, you just wanted someone to save you from this mess. Fake dating.

Pairing: George Weasley X Fem!Reader

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst with Michael, alcohol use, mention of underage drinking

Word count: 2K

A/N: Did I just write another unrequited love bridesmaid story? Yes, but this idea is stuck in my mind for a long time. The inspiration is from the first scene of the movie Love, Rosie! GIF is from the movie too and credit goes to whoever owns it. Anyways, hope you guys would like it:)

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome!

You were sitting at Michael Corner’s wedding and your brain was a foggy mess, but you were next to give a toast. The logical side of you told you to look at your notes one last time, but the emotional side of you just wanted to hide in a hole in the ground and pretend like you never existed.

Michael was your best friend. You’ve known each other since the first year at Hogwarts. And like all cliches, you were the person who has always secretly loved their best friend. 

You thought maybe one day he would finally realize that the person meant for him was right beside him. But now he’s getting married and you, his best friend, became the bridesmaid. 

Why were you the bridesmaid? Didn’t the bride have any friends? But you knew, you could complain and make fun of the bride all you want and in the end, she still has everything you’ve ever wanted.

It was your turn to give a toast now. You stood up and cleared your throat, “I’ve known Michael since the first year at Hogwarts. It feels like it was only yesterday that Michael got stuck on the moving stairs and almost missed the first class. Oh, or when the Weasley twins dumped blue paint on him during fourth year. Can’t believe that he’s getting married today. Merlin, I sound like his mum.”

The guests laughed and the Weasley twins cheered at the mention of their prank. You laughed along and continued, “And I should probably say something nice about Michael too. Michael Corner was the funniest, most interesting, and most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

The guests cheered again in agreement and you waited for the waves of cheering to die out, “I just wanted to say that the bride is really lucky. And I wish you guys all the best with all my heart. Congratulations Michael, and I will always love you...” you looked at his eyes one last time, those ocean eyes, “cause we’re best friends.”

The crowd was clapping and cheering, but you couldn’t hear anything. You just sat there, staring blankly at the crowd. This was the end, was it? Before the wedding began, you fantasized about so many scenarios. Like in a soup opera where you would run up there and object. Or like in a romantic comedy where he finally realized that you were the one he has always loved.

But nothing crazy happened in the reality and to be honest, you were glad.

“Y/N, if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m always here.” Cho was there with you in the restroom. She knew about your crush on Michael and was always there to support you when you prepared for the wedding.

“No, I’m not going to cry.” You sighed, “But I really do hope that maybe, I could suddenly have a tall and handsome boyfriend, and then I could walk out of the wedding feeling less defeated.”

When you two were leaving the restroom, you bumped into a tall man. You looked up and recognized that it was George Weasley.

You became friends with the Weasley twins right after they dumped blue paint on  Michael. You guys would hangout together sometimes and you joined Dumbledore’s Army with them, so you could tell the twins apart. But after they left Hogwarts, you guys barely contacted each other and would probably only see each other at Hogwarts reunion dinners or some old classmates’ weddings.

“George?”

“I’m sorry Y/N, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But I believe I heard you said that you need a tall and handsome boyfriend?”

You were embarrassed that he heard your silly talk, but you still managed to reply calmly, “Yea, are you gonna introduce me to someone?”

“That someone is standing right in front of you! See, I’m tall,” he raised his hand to emphasize his height, “and I’m handsome!” He winked at you.

“George, I was only joking...”

“Yea, joking. Someone told me I’m quite good at that.” He grinned at you, “I can pretend to be your tall and handsome boyfriend and make Corner jealous!”

You laughed at his remarks, but the reality slapped you in your face. You lowered your head, feeling defeated again, “But he won’t...”

“Well, at least you could still use some fun now. Consider this as a light-hearted prank! ” He cupped your face and lifted your head.

At this moment, you felt like the playful and happy you came back. You turned back to look at Cho. She nodded at you, reassuring you that this idea was not completely dumb, so you finally held out your hand, “Well then, shall we, darling?”

He chuckled and held your hand, “Let’s go, darling!”

Your plan went well. Not long after you left the restrooms, you and George ran into Michael. He looked surprised seeing you holding hands with George, “Y/N, you two?”

Before you could say anything, George answered the question for you, “Y/N is my girlfriend!”

Michael was looking at you now and you couldn’t quite understand his expression. Putting aside all of your unrealistic daydreams and wishful thinking, he was probably just surprised.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Erm....I was busy preparing for your wedding and I just kinda forgot.” Your left hand was tugging nervously on the hem of your dress now, but you were still impressed that you could lie so smoothly even under this kind of situation.

“Yeah Corner, my girlfriend was so busy preparing for your wedding, she didn’t even have enough time for me! You should really thank her mate,” George added.

Now Michael was looking sorry as he said, “I didn’t know...Thank you, Y/N.”

To you, this “Thank you” sounded like the closure for your unrequited love that lasted for years. “It’s alright,” you replied softly.

“I need to go get a drink. Congratulations mate!” George pulled you away before you started to zone out. 

After returning to your table, George just sat on the empty seat next to you. The owner of this seat, Terry was probably already drinking the night away somewhere. You glanced around. Everyone looked so happy, making you a misfit. 

George noticed you were zoning out again, “I’m guessing that you don’t want to stay here anymore. How about we sneak out right now?”

You nodded. Yes please.

He held your hand. You thought he was going to apparate you into somewhere else, but he just held your hand and ran out of the wedding. Just like a muggle movie.

Surrounding the wedding venue was a grassland and some small hills. You and George finally stopped running at the highest hill and something came over you. The presence of George just made you comfortable doing crazy silly things that you usually didn’t have the courage to do. You took off your high heels, “I always wanted to try this.” And without hesitating, you rolled off the hill.

George was probably shocked by your sudden action. But he wasn’t shocked for long, because you soon felt someone rolling off the hill, too.

You didn’t even have the time to stand up or move away as George just landed on you. You looked at each other and started laughing. You were both in formal clothings, but you were also both covered in dirt and grass. This was probably the first time in weeks that you were laughing wholeheartedly, not like back at the wedding, when you could only call what you were doing a mere action of pulling the corners of your lips upwards.

“Aren’t you full of surprises.” George laughed as he gently pushed away the hair and grass on your face.

You were speechless for a moment. You were lying on the grass and George was still on top of you. You stared into his deep brown eyes with the breathtaking starry night sky as the background, and memories from fourth year started to come back.

At that time, the Weasley twins were very popular. Well, they were always popular, but you only got to know them during your fourth year. That year and fifth year were the only two years that Michael wasn’t really occupying your mind.

They were older, Gryffindor beaters, and legendary pranksters. It was impossible for you to not notice them. Especially George. He kept appearing in front of you, asking you if their new pranks ideas could work. You didn’t know when did this happened exactly, but he did eventually claim a place in your heart.

Maybe you were a little bit drunk. Maybe it was because the stars were mesmerizing tonight, but you confessed, “Actually, I have more surprises for you. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Oh yea? What is it?”

“It was a long time ago and it’s quite funny actually, but I had a crush on you back at school.” You were blushing, but you hoped that he couldn’t see it.

“Let me guess, was it the year of the Triwizard Tournament?”

You sat up as you were shocked and he sat up with you. “How did you know?”

He chuckled, “You probably don’t remember much about this, but do you remember the night of the Yule Ball? You were so drunk, but you couldn’t find your friends?”

The memories you thought were long gone began to resurface. Your friend group went to the Yule Ball together that year and Michael was also part of it. You still remembered you telling yourself that technically you could still say that you went to the dance with Michael.

That night, someone sneaked a bottle of firewhisky into the dance and you ended up getting drunk. Your friends were probably wasted too since when you finally regained a tiny sense of conscious, they all disappeared. You searched the hallways, with your arms leaning against the walls, trying to find some support. You called their names, but no one answered.

You remembered now. The last person you could remember from that night was George Weasley.

The loss of memory was making you anxious. You started to pull your hair nervously when you asked, “Merlin, what did I do that night??”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, “Not much. You told me that you fancy me and you kissed me.”

Your brain went blank. You did what??

He continued, ignoring how you were losing it right now, “Earlier tonight, I heard you say that Michael was the funniest, most interesting, and most amazing person you’ve ever met? If I remembered correctly, you told me the exact same thing that night. Do you say that to everyone? I’m hurt. Thought my feelings were reciprocated that time. Turns out to be a lie...”

He was still ranting, but you only managed to hear one thing he said. He thought his feelings were reciprocated? Did that mean at that time, he fancied you too? To be honest, if Fred and George didn’t leave Hogwarts that early, maybe the person that you loved for years wouldn’t be Michael anymore. Suddenly, you felt like you just wasted all of these years and all of the heartbreaks.

“So...do you still have feelings for me now?” You felt stupid immediately after your words left your mouth. That was years ago and you were asking about it now?

“Why did you think I wanted to be your fake boyfriend today?”

It was sudden and you still wasn’t sure what you were thinking, but you just kissed him, smashing your lips together.

He was shocked for sure, but soon a smirk appeared on his lips, “What’s with you and all these sudden kisses, Y/L/N?” He then pulled you in and kissed you back. This time properly and with more passion, as if you were both trying to make up for all those lost years.

“So did I actually become your ‘tall and handsome boyfriend’?”

“Maybe, if you could just shut up and kiss me.”

[corvus--rex]

I very nearly used this one for the Prince prompt for Julance, and then came up with something different (not that I've posted it to ao3 yet, the magical au kinda got away from me and I've been trying to wrap it up). It's deeply sleeping and almost into semi-abandoned mostly because I'm just stuck (I personally suck at scene transitions). This one is a Human!Galtean Omegaverse with Omega Lance and Alpha Keith.

~*~*~*~

Keith hated these parties, even if it was in his honor. He always had. But being able to see Lance light up when they walked into the ballroom and then offering him his hand as an invitation to dance made it worth it. Especially when the offer was so excitedly accepted. When the familiar 3/4 time signature began, and the pair swept around the room wrapped up in the waltz and in each other, Keith was able to forget the reason for the party. He let himself get lost in Lance’s soft expressions and the love he held for the boy in his arms. Well, not boys anymore. No, they were both grown adults by then and not lovesick teenagers, but their feelings for each other had never lessened. And Keith was still in awe of the fact that Lance, his best friend since they were small children, despite their secondary sexes, not only loved him in return, but had accepted Keith’s proposal.

Accepted may have been an understatement. The night Keith proposed, in the heart of Lance’s favorite garden on the castle’s grounds, the Marmoran prince found himself tackled to the soft grass. His entire field of vision was taken up by an emotionally overwhelmed Lance, blocking out the stars that Keith felt paled in comparison to the Altean royal he was intensely proud to call his.

Lance, for his part, knew how much Keith hated these formal parties. But this one was all theirs. This was the party that formally announced to the kingdoms of Marmora and Altea and the rest of the world that the two royal families were to be joined through the marriage and mating of Alpha Crown Prince Keith of Marmora and Omega Prince Lance of Altea. Lance, and Keith as well, had been stunned to learn that their betrothal had been formalized when they were infants. Their parents were close friends, and the boys had grown up together, even attending the same boarding schools. And then, when the boys began dating on their own in their teens, their parents decided not to tell them, knowing that it really no longer mattered.

Both Lance and Keith were familiar with the music, and Keith slowed their pace with a twirl of his fiancé at the beginning of the closed cadence that marked the end of the dance. They came to a stop as the music died, sneaking a kiss when they knew no one was really paying attention. But of course, that night, everyone was paying attention to the recently engaged couple. There was no getting away from it. Lance’s older sister Allura had even commented on it, saying that it would finally take some attention away from her own engagement to Princess Romelle of Arus. But of course, as Crown Princess and Lance’s sister, Allura was there at the engagement party, Romelle right beside her.

That night, Lance proudly wore the last courting gift Keith had given him on the night he proposed. It was a simple band, inlaid with a brilliantly rich violet sapphire that graced the middle finger of his left hand. The stone itself, a marquise cut laid horizontally in the metal, was stunning, but the band was made of starlight silver, an alloy composed of white gold and luxite, a metal unique to Marmora. Truth be told, he rarely took it off, wearing it as a constant reminder of the Alpha who loved him.

Lance had already moved into Marmora’s royal residence and his own suite of rooms for the months leading up to his formal mating to Keith, but it was a well-known secret inside the castle that he hardly ever used the apartment, having instead already moved into Keith’s suite. Breakfast at the castle was almost always an informal affair, and house staff usually walked into the princes snuggled in bed together. Everyone also knew that Queen Krolia knew about her son and soon-to-be son-in-law’s sleeping arrangement and said nothing against it. That night, they had plans to slip away from the party when it was late enough and watch the fireworks from their private balcony. Their closest friends wanted to celebrate the engagement away from the crowded rooms of the party and had agreed to leave quietly one at a time to meet the princes upstairs.

But it wasn’t quite time for that yet. The party was still in full swing and the formal announcement had yet to be made. Keith knew his mother would be looking for them soon, and wanted to keep Lance to himself for as long as possible, even if he knew it was a lost cause. Case in point, the over-dressed figure of an Altean noble making her way toward them now that they had stepped away from the floor. Keith saw the exact moment when Lance died a little on seeing Lady Henrietta Remington-Blakely bustling her way over, her daughter Delphine following her mother with purpose.

Lady Remington-Blakely had always – and loudly – bemoaned the fact that Allura had been publicly off the market for years and that Lance wasn’t a “suitable match” as an Omega for her Beta daughter. Delphine, on the other hand, tried to distance herself from her mother’s whining as much as possible, and in doing so, had actually ingratiated herself with the royal family, winning a place at court over her mother. Delphine, therefore, had naturally been invited to the engagement party, her mother having the invitation extended out of courtesy. Delphine’s father, Baronet Simeon Remington-Blakely, had been invited as well, but the beleaguered noble was nowhere to be seen.

Delphine rushed the last several yards ahead of her mother, picking up her nearly floor-length skirt in a rather un-ladylike fashion. “I am so sorry, I couldn’t stop her,” she said to Lance as she approached.

Lance sighed. “It’s ok, Lady Delphine. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but she’s been worse lately now that your engagement is being made publicly official tonight.”

Keith nodded to a spot over Delphine’s shoulder. “And here she comes.”

Lance seamlessly slipped into his public face. “Lady Remington-Blakely, thank you so much for coming all the way to Marmora to celebrate with us. How was the trip? Not too strenuous, I hope?”

Keith and Delphine caught each other’s eye and tried desperately not to laugh. Lance’s seemingly genuine greeting and following question caught Lady Henrietta off guard, causing the woman to deflate from whatever she had planned on verbally accosting him with. Neither of them missed the subtle wink he threw in their direction or the small sly curl to his fake smile.

“Oh, well, of course, your Highness,” Lady Henrietta stumbled, caught off guard by Lance preempting her, “No, the trip over was fine. We accompanied Count Fitzsimmons on his private jet.”

“And how is the dear Count? Still as…active as ever?”

Count Alistair “Allie” Fitzsimmons was a well-known party boy, and it actually surprised Lance that Lady Henrietta would be seen in public with him.

“Oh, yes, I suppose so. He was quite charming on our flight over.”

“Naturally. I would expect nothing less. And of course, the announcement of my forthcoming marriage and mating is so important to us and our beloved Altea. Altea and Marmora have been close friends and allies for quite some time now, and my marriage will further strengthen that bond. It certainly doesn’t hurt that I’ve been madly in love with her Crown Prince for years.”

Lance had been so invested in preventing whatever it was that Lady Henrietta had in mind that he hadn’t noticed Delphine slip away to retrieve her father until she returned with him.

“My apologies, Prince Lance,” Sir Simeon said as he approached, slightly out of breath.

“Oh, not at all. I was just telling your lovely wife Lady Henrietta how wonderful it is that you could be here in Marmora with us.”

“Of course, it’s our pleasure to be here for such an important event.” Sir Simeon had far more in common with his daughter than his wife. Lance had wondered on meeting them the first time how someone so genuine and caring could have ended up with such a self-important woman like Henrietta.

Delphine and Sir Simeon directed Lady Henrietta away from the royals, leaving them in momentary peace.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[writingonesdreams]

Reading update

Currently reading 

Every enemies to lovers fantasy I find remotely interesting. 

Cruel Prince - I was avoiding this series for so long because I just didn’t get the fascination with faeries and I’m not a fan of dark murdering scheming. I just wanted to read the first 3 chapters and kiss this book goodbye - but the main heroine caught me in her clutches and I couldn’t stop. I got enchanted by the world, but Jude being so emotionally understanable and relatable, I just felt so much for her and her reasons for doing what she did. I’m fascinated by Madoc, he is such a complex murdering father and mentor, I love what he and Jude have together and that despite being caring he is a brutal war loving person. Cardan was scary, then got complex and at the end kinda fun, but I have seen too little of him in the first book to really feel attached to him - I’m starting Wicked King right away to see what happens. I’m still waiting to inspect what will transform Jude and Cardan from enemies to more, cause desire, jealousy and hunger for power aren’t excactly ideal base. 

Serpent & Dove - Witch and a witch hunter forced into a fake relationship and cooperation? Can’t wait what this book has in store. I loved To Kill a Kingdom, which was a siren and a siren hunting prince joining forces and this is a direct rec with high ratings. Just hope there is a magic system here, I’m missing it. 

Enchantment of Ravens - This one came to mind after Cruel Prince sold me on the fearie concept and I love the premise of powerful arrogant beings like fey not being able to create, an ability reserved for humans. And it’s supposed to be enemies to lovers as well. I’m on mission to explore this trope from all angles. Plus it’s a standalone! 

We hunt the flame - A prince who kills for his father hiding his compassion and a rebellious girl that fights to save her people in a enemies to lovers fantasy with some bromance sprinkled within? High hopes for this premise.

Finished books, Books on writing, magical books and more under the cut 

Read

Riyria Chronicles - I loved the first book of the prequels, I love Hadrian and Royce as a duo of idealistic knight and cynical assassin that work together, the banter, the hurt/comfort. I loved how their bond developed from deadly enemies to friends, that they stuck together, that there was a whole epic series of the two of them. But the completely destroyed it for me with the addition of Gwen as the love interest for Royce he was ready to leave everything else for (even just die on the spot). Hadrian, goals, the magnificent slow friendship development and new values didn’t matter because the author wanted Royce to love Gwen, so I guess we were just supposed to love her too - for no reason. She was so incomplete and her prophetic powers so convinient it was insulting. I am still salty over leaving this universe after three prequel books, but the bromance brought me to it and the action plots with royals, murders and schemes are just backround noise I can take, when the emotional arcs and relationships work - which they don’t. A shallow love interest ruined it all. 

Uprooted - I have mentioned this book before after I read it. It’s absolute brilliance, with a grumpy powerful mage who likes order and beauty and a chaotic mage apprentice who works with instincts and nature. Oh and there is that dark sentient forest trying to devour whole villages, a magical river called Spindle and a really beutiful and deep magical world. Plus the enemies to lovers romance is subtle and amazing.

Spinning Silver - Wrote a review few months back, but basically 3 very strong heroines with interconnected fates, fire demons and ice kingdoms. The world and writing are magical, but the enemies to romance is quite unsatisfactory - they are basically enemies the whole time and skip over to a wedding at the end. 

Radiance -  A cute friends to lovers story about a political marriage between a fantastical race and human royalty, that were disgusted by each other’s appearence but learned to love each other like friends and later fell in love romantically too. The bond was well-developed, and the pacing was enjoyable, with the world having some interesting ideas, but overall it was plain and underdeveloped. I can’t really put my finger on it, because everything seems right with this book, but it left me feeling empty. There was no thematic significance, no message, just a fun comfy journey, which isn’t wrong but it left me unsatisfied and not at all interested in the sequel.  

Stolen Songbird - A trilogy about the world of trolls, with the heroine being kidnapped, forced to marry a prince who only pretends to hate her while preparing a revolution and a curse that keeps them trapped underground. I loved the concept, the first half was great,...but then it went downhill. The plot started to be way too convinient, I could see the author wanting to make situations happen that made no sense for the plot and happened unnaturally, which kept breaking the story immersion. There was no setup for key events, the love went from little attraction signs and kindness to forever proclamations in two chapters...very disappointing. I finihsed the first book, but I’m dropping the series right there. The ending with the sudden relevations about magic insulted my intelligence. 

Want to read

Pick of titles about the power of books and libraries, with either characters coming to life or books being magical. 

Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep - A guy who can read characters into life, characters reflecting the interpretation of the person who read them with several versions of them running around and a story of two brothers with some tensions. 

Mr Fox - A female protagonist visits her author to convince him stop hiding behind killing all his female characters off and focus on what emotionally matters to him instead. 

The Library of Unwritten - There is a place in hell for unwritten stories and their characters sometimes try to escape to make their authors finish it. Oh and there are demons and angels and a Muse as a character. 

The Midnight Library 

The Invisible Library - Magical library that travels through time and worlds with dragon shifting assistent and maybe some romance. The crime chase isn’t really drawing me in but the concept of the profession is really cool. 

Stuck from the old to read list

Addie LaRue - It’s Schwab, it’s an amazing concept, it’s about art and immortality and devil deals. The first two chapters didn’t catch me yet, so I’m waiting for my mood for this to return. 

Magic Bites - Strong voice, great complex supernatural world, magic and vampires and shifters in one place. The murder investigation ain’t my thing though, so I got stuck on the 4th chapter and kinda forgot about it. Not a good sign, but it seems like a quality series (it has 10 parts and a huge following). 

Flowers for Algernon - A famous science fiction classic about a man who goes through an experiment to gain intelligence, becomes a genius and watches as his friendships fall apart and the world reacts a lot differently than he thought. 

Lady of Rivers - I loved the White Princess from Philippa Gregory, so the historical romance and politics here can be trusted, so I’m curious. 

On writing

Writing for social scientists - Came across this as a rec from school, but it has so much about the writing process, discipline, how to handle the need to be perfect and how to edit and work on drafts, accept criticism...lots of parallels to fiction writing, I’m stunned. 

Outlining by KM Weiland - I love KM Weiland’s blog about writing, I love her voice and tips and ways. This book is fun, well-structured, with lots of tips on organizing and structuring and it gave me, a pretty experienced outliner lots of new tricks and ideas to try. I read this and fill in for my story and it’s quite helpful. 

Writing from the Inside Out: Transforming Your Psychological Blocks to Release the Writer Within by Dennis Palumbo - Writing books are very hit and miss. I hated Bird by Bird and Thorn necklace, those are just whiny biographical essays like I care about the details of the author’s life when I don’t know them and just came for the tips. I loved Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and The Courage to write though, the two are my personal bibles. Dennis Palumbo is very to the point with his psychological take on writing and on being enough and it hits all the sore spots and makes them better. 

Letters to a young novelist - Philosophical book on writing in letter style that reads nicely if a bit heavily sometimes. I love the format and the thoughts, but it requires focused reading and quiete enviroment to understand everything. 

[thefanficmonster]

The Five Scares (and one revenge)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤

I

Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them. 

Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.

Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.

“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.

They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.

“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.

“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.

“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.

“Yup.“

II

It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.

Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out. 

However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.

Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.

Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.

While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.

“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“

The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“

For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.

“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.

III

Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.

They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.

Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.

However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.

As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.

When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.

A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.

“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.

Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...

“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.

IV

Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.

Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.

“Whatya cooking over there babe?“

Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.

A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.

“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“

Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?

V

“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.

“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“

“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.

“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.

Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.

The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.

“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.

So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”

Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.

                                                            ~  ~  ~

Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.

Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.

The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.

“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“

Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.

They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”

Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.

And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.

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[imaginesbymk]

“Something’s Wrong with Mr. Pink.”

Reservoir Dogs One Shot

Summary: There’s been spark between you and Mr. Pink, but he’s one to shield his emotions. He realizes he’s starting to lose you, but he’s out of ways to win your heart. Desperate, he approaches Mr. White for help.

Pairing: Mr. Pink x Fem!Reader

Tags: swearing, sexist remarks, smoking + mentions of drug use (marijuana)

Non Requested

Word Count: 2,054

Author’s Note: as you can tell, quentin tarantino movies have been on my list!!! the reader is codenamed Miss Beige!! i never thought i’d have this much appreciation for steve buscemi until now, he’s such a cool guy :(((  also thank you @myriadimagines​ for checking my title capitalization aksnskdns - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!! <333

MR. BROWN gave Mr. Pink a ride to the next meeting, and the whole trip there, Brown rambled on and on about God knows what. It came through one ear and out the other for Pink. Brown didn’t seem to notice because of his investment of his proven theory of a movie he had seen and wanted to share it with someone. 

If he wasn’t listening in silence, Pink would always have something to say. It would usually be a comment, an opinion on something about social life. This one afternoon, he bit his tongue, despite the guys knowing his mind was occupied, even Nice Guy Eddie raised a brow. It didn’t start the day they were all given your colour coded names. It didn’t start the day they reviewed the plan of the heist with each other. It all started when you two were unintentionally left alone at the large dining table, moments after the guys had walked out the restaurant for something.

“Pink’s a pretty colour.” You gave him a reassuring smile, stirring your straw in your milkshake.

“To you.” 

“And to anyone else who would want to be codenamed Pink!” you scoff. “Sexist.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re Miss Beige,” he says, his mouth full of his toast. 

“And I happen to like my name. It’s a pretty colour,” you paused. “Just like pink.”

Pink huffs, swirling his coffee mug. “I can’t wait to smoke.”

“Lucky.”

“My buddy sets up Thai sticks like it’s one of those model boats in a bottle. It’s so fragile to him, and he saved one for me. Something tells me I owe him a shit ton.”

“You smoke Thai sticks?” you ask. “Your poor lungs.”

“Nah, I gotta smoke outta one anytime after coffee just for me to either black out or jump off the Empire State building by the time we hit Easter.”

You chuckled.

From the windows of the restaurant, you could see the guys standing outside their parked cars including Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, talking to each other about whatever. You could see their mouths moving, Nice Guy Eddie using a lot of hand motions at Mr. White, and Joe calling someone on the phone.

This wasn’t the first time you spent a limited amount of minutes alone with Mr. Pink. At Uncle Bob’s Pancake House, you two did sit close to each other, except Mr. Blue sat in between the both of you, and you had to lean forward to see Mr. Pink if he was speaking or if you two were giving each other looks if someone said something stupid.

If you were that childish, you would've considered the five minutes of alone time with Mr. Pink a first date - without the formal introduction. You two didn’t give each other your names because of Joe, but you wouldn’t mind slipping it out.

Silence, and then-

“I know this really cool café near my apartment. We should check it out sometime,” you blurted out.

Pink was in the midst of swallowing his food. He chokes on his ketchup dipped toast, taking his coffee mug to chase the contents down his throat.

“Wait a minute-” Pink cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Are you-” he cleared his throat for the final time. “Are you asking me out?”

“Y-yeah,” you sheepishly smile, holding in your breath. “I mean, we can go get coffee, hang out at my place afterwards - it’s just a five minute walk - and sit on my couch, listen to K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the ‘70s, you can smoke your Thai stick, I wouldn’t mind...” By looking at Pink’s face made you trail off your words. You knew where this was going. 

“You couldn’t ask Brown or Orange?”

“No, I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking lately, we seem to get along, thank God, and you’re really cool. Even when you can be an absolute dick almost all the time, you haven’t scared me off. Just one date, it won’t kill us.”

“A date...” he frowns a bit. “With you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” your heart sank.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Miss Beige. Ya just got the wrong idea. We’re here for a job, not to hook up. If you want to suck someone off, try your luck with Mr. Blonde. Besides, I go for chicks at a bar. I know from experience, they’re always coming in hot - first come, first serve typa’ shit.”

“Right. My bad.” You felt yourself shrinking now, fighting the urge to get up and make a dash outta there, somewhere to scream in embarrassment, whatever emotion it was. 

“Excuse me.” Mr. Pink gets up and walks away, just as the rest of the guys start making their return to the large table.

“Where did Mr. Pink go?” Mr. Orange asked.

“Little men’s room, I’m guessing.” You sighed, sliding the milkshake away from you. “I’m full.”

“Something’s wrong with Mr. Pink. Did you guys get in a fight? We were only gone for five minutes,” Mr. Brown laughs.

You sat in silence, staring down.

“Nah, I bet she finally put him in his place and he’s crying like a baby in there,” Mr. Blue said, lighting the cigar in his mouth with a match.

“Most definitely not.” Mr. White shook his head, patting his pockets in search of his lighter. “That man’s a smartass, and smartasses like him know how to shield themselves. He’s fine. If anything, he can walk his ass home.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Pink calmly entered the restroom, placed both hands on each side of the tiny sink, stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror, and screamed in anger. 

He jumps when he notices a man had appeared from one of the stalls just a moment ago, staring at him worriedly.

“WHAT?!” Mr. Pink snaps.

If someone treated him like a friend, he goes along with it if they weren’t weird or creepy. If someone told a joke, he’ll laugh if it isn’t corny or cringeworthy. But if someone admitted their feelings to him? Let alone ask him out?

That was the thing: Mr. Pink doesn’t like the idea of vulnerability. He’s aware that it’s unavoidable, it’s human nature - he just chooses not to give into it. Mr. Pink won’t waste a breath giving anyone the impression that he’s easy to get along with and that he’s a kind of guy to not act like a complete jerk half the time, because that’s not true. Not on his behalf, at least. 

“Mr. White,” Mr. Pink approaches him in the vacant room at the hideout one day.

He knows people can judge. So he naturally survives on witty remarks, being a sarcastic ass most of the time, and coffee, coffee, and more coffee. Coffee times six. 

Mr. White finishes combing his hair in the small mirror, nodding at him as a response. “You all right, son?”

But at the same time, his heart was telling him he wants you all to himself.  “I got a problem...”

"SO you want my help?” Mr. White said, a few moments after Mr. Pink had explained the situation he was stuck in. “You’re completely hopeless right now? Gosh, is it my birthday already?”

“You’re full of shit,” Pink mumbled.

“Thought you’re s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional, like you said?” Mr. White chuckled. “I would have thought you would know what to do by now.”

“What am I, the Dalai Lama? I don’t know the answer to everything.”

“I mean... I kinda figured something was goin’ on between you two, I tried to warn her,” White shoots him a blank stare.

“Warn her?” Mr. Pink scowls. “Like I’m some fuckin’ tiger on the loose?”

“I did tell her: Listen, honey,” Mr. White grimaced, as he saw you like a sixteen-year-old teenager not knowing better than to get her heart broken. “Are you one hundred percent sure you like Mr. Pink? He’s a pretty cynical guy. You know he doesn’t tip waitresses?”

You shrug.

“Look, I know I can be very close to myself while very outspoken but,” Mr. Pink sighs. “I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen Miss Beige. Who wouldn’t want her? One time, she called in sick for a job she worked at just to play Super Mario World.”

“You could go there and apologize to her.”

“It’s not that easy, White.”

“How so? Just tell her you freaked out but you had a change of heart.”

“No, man. I could have accepted it right there and then, I could be taking her out somewhere, a place she likes, or that café she was talking about. But no, I turn into the cold piece of shit I always am ‘cause I’m a fucking-” Mr. Pink kicks the rusty chair in anger. “-idiot!” He kicks it again, hurting his foot in the process. He cries out in pain and hops away to the table for balance.

“Mr. Pink, it’s not too late to win her heart. If you really like her, and I can tell you’d take a bullet for her, then brush the professionalism aside for one second and make your move.”

“How?” he chuckles, taking a seat in the chair he had just kicked.

“Well, you can start by introducing yourself.”

“Already done.”

“No I mean, your name.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. What we’re not gonna do is that.” Mr. Pink ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to White to therapeutically stare at the light pink tiles on the walls. 

“Why not?” White shrugs. “I told her mine. And it’s-”

Mr. Pink turned around. “What?”

Mr. White furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“You told her your name?” he said. In his mind he prayed Mr. White gave her a fake name on the spot.

“I mean, not just her. Mr. Orange, too. My first name and where I was from, it was a normal conversation.”

“...WHY?!” Pink’s voice echoed in the warehouse.

“Orange asked.”

“You know what Joe said, we’re not supposed to reveal any personal info about ourselves!”

“Joe said this, Joe said that- fucking teacher’s pet,” Mr. White mocks.

“What the hell were you thinking, White?” he shouts.

“How else can you and Miss Beige take a step further if you can’t even tell each other your fuckin’ names? Just introduce yourself, Pink. That’s one way to start,” Mr. White says.

“And what if she doesn’t like my name?” He could only come up with such a question like that.

“What is your name?” 

“Fuck you, man.” Mr. Pink stood up from the chair, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

“All right, if you won’t tell me your name, then tell y/n. Y/n should be the only one who can know.”

Mr. Pink turned back to him again. “Y/N?” he says. “That’s her name?”

Mr. White nods. As heated as Mr. Pink was, he knew one day your name would have to fall out of his lips and not a colour, and he wouldn’t mind that. Y/N...

Mr. Pink wouldn’t mind that one bit.

FROM now on, the café near your apartment complex would be your go-to. It was a café not too small but not too big, and no one would bat an eye if you showed up in your pajamas. The following Saturday you went there alone, sipping your coffee and turning to the second page of the morning paper. 

What sucked was the fact that after you were turned down, you came to think that Mr. Pink wouldn’t be able to see how cool the interior was. He sure was missing out. Sure his Thai stick won’t be stinking up your living room while throwback songs from the ‘70s play on the radio, but indeed, sucks for him.

“Shit, you were right, y/n. This place is pretty neat.”

The newspaper crinkled when you lowered it down. Standing at the foot of your booth was Mr. Pink. This time he didn’t have on his silly Hawaiian shirt like last time, and no, he didn’t ironically wear pink as a kind gesture. He did look good in a white tee, though. 

You had to smile. He knew your name. And you wondered how...

“Oh, Mr. Pink. Morning,” you nodded.

He takes a seat in front of you. “C’mon, we’re not at work. Just call me—”

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes

[writer-room]

Siblings: Chapter Four

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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

Tim didn’t know how to feel about being an only child.

He didn’t think about it all that often, there weren’t many kids he talked to at school who mentioned their siblings all that frequently. And, in some parts, he didn’t mind it so much.

The kids who did talk about siblings complained, whether their siblings were older or younger. There were those who said their sibling took up more of their parents attention, which was something Tim was already lacking in. Some said that they never had any time to themselves, something that Tim had an overabundance in, but still cherished. Others said that the accomplishments, and failures, of their siblings reflected onto them, making their parents expect more or less of them. Tim couldn’t afford that either. His parents already didn’t think much of him, he didn’t need it to be any less. And if they wanted more, he worried he wouldn’t be able to meet their expectations.

And yet…

Sometimes he liked the idea of someone else in that empty mansion. Someone to talk to when the rooms felt too large, when the loneliness was suffocating him. He liked the thought of sharing his recent theories, photos, and the like with someone. Wondered if he could go on for as long as he wanted without being interrupted.

Maybe they’d be someone who didn’t call him by a name that wasn’t his, then feign forgetting. Who didn’t treat his binders like they were assaulting their eyes. Who didn’t scrutinize his every movement for faking.

That’d be nice, he thinks. 

But there were pros and cons, he reasons. And for all he knows, if he had a sibling, they could’ve been just like his parents. Or they could’ve been kinder. Not like he’d ever know.

He had more important things to worry about than hypotheticals and wishes.

“Before you scold me, know that I took a five hour nap earlier today and I’m only getting a snack.”

Steph and Duke blinked at him from the doorway to the kitchen, their expressions a sharp contrast between exasperated and concerned, respectively.

“Wow, five hours?” Steph snarked. “That’s a new record. Are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Tim said, opening the fridge. “Give it a few weeks and I’m sure you’ll see rumors of my tragic defeat at the hands of, I dunno, Flamingo.”

“There’s a supervillain named Flamingo?” Duke exclaimed, staring at Steph incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, it’s a whole thing.” She nodded. “He had a scuffle with Jay and his kid a while back.”

“Jason has a kid?”

“Why are you up, anyway?” Tim talked right over him. “Duke I understand, he’s the disgraced child of the sun. But you patrol at the same time as every other nocturnal person in this house.”

“Hey-”

“I actually had to pretend to have a normal sleep schedule, my mom was getting worried and I didn’t want her finding me sneaking in with my full Spoiler getup on.” Steph explained tiredly. “I’m still trying to recover.”

“Tragic,” Tim hummed, pulling out a container holding a ham sandwich. 

“The only thing that's tragic is your outfit.” Steph snorted, looking him up and down.

Tim blinked, looking down at himself. His outfit consisted of a pair of knockoff Batman shorts, knee-high pastel dinosaur socks, and a long red robe that absolutely did not belong to him hanging loosely off him, exposing countless scars littering his body.

“I look awesome,” Tim said, popping the lid off the container. 

“Damian’s gonna start asking what battles you got your scars from again,” Steph tutted, striding further into the kitchen with a confused Duke following her. “Know that I will not be on your side when Dick notices and gets worried.”

“I’m more worried about Dami seeing this one,” He said, brushing the robe back slightly to reveal a poorly stitched surgical scar on his upper abdomen. “Because then he’s going to ask what happened, and then I’m gonna have to tell him that's where my spleen used to be, and then he's going to be reminded that oh, yeah, his brother has a missing spleen, and then he’s going to be treating everything like its diseased-”

“Does...he keep forgetting you lost your spleen?” Duke blinked, concerned. “I feel like that’d be something you were kinda always aware of…”

“Eh, everyone's worried about a different scar whenever they see ‘em.” He shrugged, glancing down as he traced over one of the surgery scars along his chest. “Which is frankly a little rude. I earned this right to be shirt free.”

“Hell yeah you did,” Steph grinned before her eyes dropped to the sandwich Tim was attempting to eat. “Isn’t that Cullen’s?”

“He didn’t label it, therefore it’s mine.” Tim said simply.

“Harper’s gonna kill you,” Duke warned warily. 

“Only if she catches me,” He said, taking a bite of the sandwich. “Why’re you guys here, anyway? Grabbing a snack?”

“Lookin’ for Babs,” Steph said, hands in her pockets. “Someone on Twitter started a war about which Batgirl was better, and Babs will probably get a kick out of being remembered as the ‘missing Batgirl.’”

“Oh she’ll be pissed about being remembered that way.” Tim agreed, shoving the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. “Babs will see it in five minutes or less, though. Swear she has a sixth sense for whenever someone mildly associated with the Bats is mentioned.” He mumbled.

“You wanna hijack the thread before she finds it?” He suggested.

“Hijack it?” Duke echoed.

“We’re gonna yell about random stuff that doesn’t contribute to the conversation until all hell breaks loose.” Steph explained, already pulling out her phone. “Tim?”

“How do you feel about discussing why the sun lightens hair, but darkens skin?” Tim suggested, leaving the container on the counter as he brushed by Steph.

“You just want to piss off someone from Metropolis.”

“It’s law as a Bat that I have to torment Superman whenever I possibly can.” Tim shrugged.

“Does that include me?” Duke blinked. “Because I personally think tormenting Superman is a bad idea.”

“Clark wouldn’t hurt a fly,”

“Yeah, but he’ll give me the face of disappointment and I don’t think I can live with that.” Duke protested.

“He can barely even manage--where are you going?” Steph looked up, only now realizing Tim was leaving the kitchen.

“I’m starting the mayhem on the big screens.” Tim grinned, looking back over his shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me he’s going to use Twitter on the bat computer,” Duke sighed.

“He’s totally going to use the bat computer,” Steph smiled, following after him. “C’mon! It’s initiation time.”

“Do you guys just call every weird thing you do initiation?” Duke called, hurrying behind them. “Because I’ve been told I’m part of an initiation five times in the last week.”

“You’re stuck in initiation until this becomes the norm,” Steph said cheerfully. 

“Of course,” Duke muttered.

Tim’s robe billowed behind him like an amateur cape as he wandered towards the door leading towards the steps into the Batcave. He threw open the door, the sound of it slamming echoing and startling the bats on the ceiling.

“Jesus!”

Harper jumped from the swivel chair in front of the computer, wide-eyed as she blinked up at the trio at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Harps,” Steph greeted, hopping onto the stairs railing and sliding down. “We’re here to cause problems on Twitter.”

“Oh, well, in that case, by all means.” Harper snarked, getting up and grandly gesturing to the countless screens. “Not like I was using it for actual work.”

“Were you using it?” Tim asked, pointedly glaring at Steph to keep his recent adventure to the kitchen quiet.

“...looking for tasers to modify count as work, right?” She said after a moment.

“Technically,” Tim nodded,  ignoring Steph’s smug look that absolutely signified she was going to blackmail him later. “But you can just use Dick’s old escrima sticks. He goes through a pair every two or three weeks, but most still work pretty well, he’s just too lazy to fix them.”

“Sweet,” Harper grinned. She then paused, taking in Tim’s appearance as he slid into the seat she was previously occupying. 

“Why do you look like you’re auditioning to be the pretty girl who dies in a low-budget slasher?”

“First of all, how dare you assume I wouldn’t be the first one to die for representation points,” Tim said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Second of all, it’s called having fashion, and also being allowed to do whatever I want.”

“You have terrible fashion sense,” Harper snorted, crossing her arms as Steph and Duke came up beside her. “But fair, I can respect that.”

“See?” Tim said, looking at Steph. “Some people can afford to not be rude.”

“Keep talking and I’ll lose more blackmail material,” Steph calmly threatened.

Harper glanced between the two, to which Tim quietly, and quickly, turned back to the screen and ignored the both of them. Harper raised a brow but didn’t comment. Tim made a mental note to sneak into one of Jason’s unused safe houses after this was over. Steph couldn’t keep quiet for the life of her.

“What are you starting, anyway?” Harper asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the back of Tim’s chair. “A sob story about the Opportunity rover?”

“Another day,” Tim promised, opening up Twitter on the countless screens. He opened another one on the other half of the computer, which Steph quickly stood at and got her own Twitter set up. “Right now, we’re questioning how the sun makes hair lighter, but skin darker. And we’re dragging Clark into it.”

“If anyone asks, I had no part in this.” Duke said, watching the two typing with a frown. “Initiation doesn't include learning how to taunt Superman, right?”

“Eh, we can settle for you becoming close with a Kryptonian,” Steph shrugged. “Dick and Bruce share Clark, Jay’s got Bizarro, Cass and I got Kara, Babs I think counts with her, too, Damian’s got Jon, and Tim has Kon.” She listed off.  “Harper and Cullen took the ‘bully Superman’ route without befriending any of his family, which is a coward's way out, so you can take, I dunno, does Chris still exist in this timeline?”

“I can call in a favor from Bart to reset the timeline again so he exists.” Tim said with a casual shrug, pulling up the thread arguing about the Batgirls. 

“I’m sorry, what--”

“Finding Kryptonians who aren’t already taken is hard!” Harper protested, talking over Duke. “And Clark likes you guys being friends with his family. The only issue he has is Damian getting testy and Tim making heart eyes at Kon every five minutes.”

“I do not!” Tim squawked, whirling around in the chair to glare at the traitors he dared call family. In his head. Family in his head.

“You do,” Steph and Harper chorused.

“I’ve met Kon for less than twenty minutes and even I know.” Harper added. “I’m sure Duke knew.”

“I...yeah…” Duke coughed into his fist and turned away. “But in my defense, the gossip around here is practically shouted down the halls twice a week.”

“You were subjected to Dick having another crisis about Jay dating Kory for two months, weren’t you?” Steph said, trying to hide a snicker.

“There were so many things I didn’t want to know,” Duke whispered, face horror-stricken. 

“Eh, at least Jay hasn’t brought up Talia around Dami yet.” Tim shrugged. “At that point, it’s better to just vacate the premises.” 

“Wait--”

“Point is, you either befriend the Kryptonian or you torment them. That’s the rules.” Tim talked over him again, scrolling down the thread and boredly looking over the arguments. “You ready, Steph?”

“As I’ll ever be,” She grinned, giving a thumbs up. “How long till Babs notices and takes this whole thing down?”

“Few more minutes, tops.” Tim shrugged, already typing. “You two wanna give any input?” He asked, glancing behind him to Harper and Duke.

“Ask if Kryptonian skin can be used as extreme sunscreen,” Harper suggested. “That’ll rile him up.”

“Now I’m just curious if it can,” Tim said, but obediently began making his comment.

“You could just...ask?” Duke tried, clearly not taking in any of what was happening.

“Nah, Kon’s half human, I don’t think it works the exact same.” Tim shook his head, not looking back. “Kara would destroy me if I tried, Bizarro has the same problem, Jon wouldn’t know, and Clark would start telling Bruce he’s worried I’m deranged again.”

“Aren’t you?” Duke raised a brow.

“Only if I feel like it,”

“And when he forgets to sleep for ninety-eight hours.” Steph spoke up.

Tim rolled his eyes, tuning out his siblings as they continued to talk. He posted his comment before sparing a peek back at them, currently throwing off ideas to their hijacking plan like it was an everyday occurrence. Well, to Steph and Harper at least. But, to Duke’s credit, he appeared to be getting more used to it on prodding from his...sisters? Hard to tell, Steph was her own classification of family member. They were some weird choices for family, at least.

Tim watched them for a moment before turning back to making another comment on the logistics of sunscreen, a smile on his face.

He couldn’t find it in him to complain. Too much, at least.