#idk if im even going to keep this in simply to keep the flow of the actual comic and this is in here just to compare ww to a mexican mom

[jjoshlynaround]

making a part two to the gay moment comic i made. making it clear my favorite wolfwood is 98 wolfwood

[hell-drabbles]

Been brainrotting abt companion au. So have this scuffed WIP of angelified companion meeting the whb version of my OC Karma meeting. The hoodie is bc. 1 too keep it as ambiguous as possible, since idk canon look. 2. Waiting for more lore/CGs of angelficatin. And 3.im lazy. Anyway hope ur having a good timezone. Been a fan of ur works for a while

Heheheh I always enjoy when people write or make art to me. Makes me feel like I'm a part of a big collaborative project or something.

I don't really have a canon look for the Embittered Companion, it's just whatever you like. A vague blob of clay for people to form into whatever they like or are into. Go wild, do whatever you like with it.

It's getting more and more difficult to be alone. The open spaces of heaven did little to block the bright light that shine upon the clouds you stand on. The beauty of it was lost to you. All you could do was scorn it, glare at it as your hands itched to cup and worship the maker of this light.

You're here, in the middle of who knows where, woken up from another long, long trance towards what was probably a place of prayer. You were commanded to go there, you know this. Because the fear of disobeying was crawling up towards you. A gripping fear, a crawling guilt. It screamed at you to keep going, to bow and accept that your existence was nothing without the orders of the angels on high.

A slight such as this, you would have to maim yourself for forgiveness. Are all angels like this? Do all angels view themselves as nothing more than a fabric made by god, to be torn asunder and rebuild again and again until they're patched together into a perfect quilt? Are they so frustrated with the limitations of their expression of faith that they turn to bodily harm?

Ah. The shattered pieces of your halo twirl and flow. Piece by piece, they're attaching themselves together, and that insidious light, those voices that lay in them, began to fill your ears.

A minute. You were only here for a minute and now you're being dragged under the blinding fold of feathers. You dug your fingers into the stone below, your nails bending then snapping. Pain. Human pain, brought upon yourself not as a display of worship, but by your own fallible human self. And angels hands would not be so delicate. They wouldn't bleed this much.

But, your nails fell and new ones grew in. That part of you wasn't human in the least.

You can't even keep this part of you, huh?

"Don't panic. You're fine."

A command that laced itself through your being was always laced with silver and gold. But, these words weren't a command. They were just a voice, as much as the wind was simply that, the wind.

So of course you looked up, but there nothing in the skies. You searched around you, for the voice that didn't grip your being and forced it to bend to their will.

"Over here." There? "Look up."

On a balcony. Horns on one side of the head, a halo that nearly embraced their whole face, a patchwork of a person covered in crossing stitches.

"...who are you?" You breathed out.

[echoesofadream]

sparkle sunflower leaf bow

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

hmmmm good question. circling bodies? some people liked it and were lovely in the comments as always but idk if it has found its right audience. maybe also all in love is fair, im not super proud of that fic but its still personal to me...

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

reading other peoples excellent writing, it makes me feel like my writing is absolute trash and want to delete all my fics and hide forever. but at the same time it can also make me feel so inspired, I guess it depends on my headspace. and then it makes me want to keep going and be better! I love it, getting lots of ideas and realizing there are no rules on what to write or how to write! thats the best. and also when I get in a flow and come out of it so satisfied, that makes me want to keep going.

another thing that makes me wanna give up is when a scene doesnt come naturally and I have to force it, because that feels like faking it and doesn't feel real and honest and I dont like doing it and wanna stop writing

🌿how does creating make you feel?

excited! and sometimes hopeless because writing is HARD even if its a silly fic. its easy to underestimate the task but it can be a lot honestly. so then I try to find the spark that inspired me in the beginning and made me start the fic but that can be almost impossible sometimes, like its not there anymore, but the fic is still unfinished, help? but then I remember that im writing for myself, because its fun and makes me happy and nothing else. and what I love is all the possibilities, they are literally endless, from the first idea to every phrasing of a sentence, like you are God! its the adult version of playing with dolls and you are a god deciding their fates. thats amazing, and sometimes it makes me cackle like a villain when I make them suffer. but I wont lie to you, I have also cried from my own writing, while writing, tears streaming down my cheeks like the words are literally pouring from my own heart. but lets not forget what we are writing is self indulgent fics, of course it makes me feel hot and bothered or flustered too. giggling in my room like ??

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

okay i will try. I guess that I am never trying to follow some formula, using the same old metaphors, etc, like im always trying to write like I am there, living in it and experiencing it myself, so everything I write is original in that way? okay its not like I dont have tropes or clichés in my writing but yeah.. complimenting myself is hard.. I try to live in to what the characters are feeling but thats more like a writing tip than compliment, like idk what people would feel in a situation so I try to feel it myself like im the character. I also think I have improved! this is a compliment to current me, not past me, my old fics make me cringe hard. but yeah, I think my writing is honest.. and also I think I characterize taekook well, because obviously im going to like the way I characterize them because im writing my fantasies for them so hehe. so I can put in my favorite taekook tropes and personality traits. but like I dont just rely on stereotypes

[mickgaydolenz]

this ask was going to be something different. but i just discovered something incredible, and this is way better than me exposing the fact Mike had a bad childhood (we all already know this lmao big whoop; everyone say thank you to his Psyche trine Ascendent for that).

ive been doing my best in understanding the asteroids that im not super familiar with — just the important ones everyone uses because there is a gigantic list of asteroids within the astro database which would be wickedly impossible to cover them all. sometimes you just gotta keep it simple.

anyways, ive been reading up on Pholus; Pholus is an asteroid represented by major impacts and life changes. so of course i started digging around charts to see what i could uncover with this. Mike has his Pholus in his 11th house, so major changes in connections and social groups. keep this in mind.

now, what i’ve learned about the Vertex, other than it’s in Mike’s 7th house, and that it represents fate and fate-like meetings, is that aspects to it pretty much give a tell-all on what’s fated for someone. the problem here with this is that Vertex is represented by fate…something we have a grand total of zilch control over. even if you could see what’s fated via the Vertex, how long could one avoid fate until it happens? can fate even be possibly avoided altogether? can fate be logically measured and determined? it’s a very philosophical thing to think about, but now is not the time to break that down.

Mike’s Pholus trines his Vertex. trines can be good overall but don’t be fooled by that. a trine just simply means an easy flow of energies between two placements — regardless of if it’s good or bad for the person. among other things, major changes in his life were one of those things destined to happen for Mike and it affected the connections he had and groups he was a part of. one of my sources said “a fated and deepfelt meeting between two people; being together changes them fundamentally and life for good” which, i mean *tucks hair back* we don’t need much context clues to what all that refers to, but it’s actually not what im getting at.

you see, there’s something missing from the picture. and i bet you guessed it’s the degrees.

ive checked on 19° Capricorn for Pholus, and it’s generally denotes the fact that he’s incredibly steadfast and courageous and will often stand alone in combating forces opposing him. good for him or sorry that happened idk. not too important here.

the real kicker here is the 22° Virgo Vertex. in the 7th house.

“susceptible to deception and flattery” “in danger of scandal” “excess of sexual drive or energy”

and to wrap it all nice in an insufferable bow:

“leadership capacity, but often refuses to become involved with others”

BONUS: his Pholus opposes his Lilith and im not even gonna explain all of it because it’s basically gearing towards infidelity. he had some sort of sexual awakening and got 2 horny oh nooo :((

i…….i……i…….i’m literally speechless. like my brain right now is just the sound of one long scream against a black hole. kaLE WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!

[wri0thesley]

Obsessed with the concept of an Albedo who needs to understand everything and especially his own desire towards you… he feels a jolt of arousal when you bumped into him in the lab, right against his crotch and he captured your scent. You’re apologizing all flustered but his mind is simply replaying it over and over. Curious. He knows of it in a text book clinical sense but to experience it? Well he’s always been more hands on with his research.

He comes to the conclusion it’s you that causes these reactions the most in him, no one else. Nobody’s body feels as good, their scent as captivating, voice as alluring… idk if he’d be blunt about it or try to go by it in covert ways. Maybe he needs to study your reactions as well? Catching you off guard and setting up situations where he gets to touch or press against you in compromising ways. If he talks to you a certain way, voice low and eyes lidded, he definitely notices a shift in your demeanor. He’s gotta study that too. And that sound you make when you’re surprised or when you grunt in pain or exertion- that definitely stirs a reaction from him! There’s so much to explore and to be throughou you outta repeat these experiments. God what a menace he’d be!

im honestly down bad for albedo at the moment. we see his bare thighs and apparently i cannot control myself.

it's a feeling he's aware of but he's never had any actual interest in before; monstadt is a nation of freedom where alcohol flows freely, of course he's witnessed a few . . . lascivious acts in his time. he knows the basics of all of these things; he's just never found any real reason to dedicate himself to this particular study.

until he meets you. until you smile at him and somehow know exactly what to say to him, until he sees you talking and playing with klee and he overhears you with others and he finds that, when normally he would prefer to be alone, he'd actually rather perhaps . . . spend time with you. and once he's noticed that, it's a slippery slope to everything else; noticing your thighs on a day you're wearing shorts. inhaling the scent of whatever you wash your hair with when you walk past him in the library - yes, the time you'd brushed past him and bumped into him and he'd felt his own body have an unmistakeable physiological reaction to you.

this is new. not the first time he's seen someone's thighs, not the first time they've gotten close to him - he's even been propositioned, a few times, by people who don't know of his reputation proper and merely note that he is - as lisa says - 'easy on the eyes'. but the newness just makes him more curious, of course. why is it you who brings out this brand new feeling in him? and how can he discover more of it? 

oh, the thought of him just subtly testing you out before he makes his biggest moves. i do think albedo has a fear of rejection, even if he’s not entirely aware of it; holds himself back from other people, left behind by his creator. so he’s very, very careful. observes kaeya and lisa flirting and tries the same things on you; the lowered voice, the eyes half-lidded. keeps his tone as detached as ever, but occasionally slips in a double entendre. becomes just a little more physical. does just a little more for you than he does for other people. does he realise that he’s manipulating you? perhaps, but he’s far more focussed on his research than he is on that.

(the pictures he draws of you in his sketchbook are research, too; the moment you’d bent over and he’d gotten an extremely good view of the shape of your ass. you with a smile on your face as you’d sampled some delicious treat you’d gotten from good hunter for lunch. you stripping out of your outer layer into something a little more risque when klee had spilt something on you. the fact that he has touched himself, looking at those sketches, remembering them . . . that’s research. his body reacts differently when there’s visual stimulus such as that! he takes a sweater you leave in his workshop. his body reacts even more strongly to the olfactory stimulus. he’d like to add how it responds differently to auditory or physical stimuli, too. for research. replaying the occasional noises using his memory isn’t quite enough.)

[rin-itoshi]

kisses . genshin impact (pt. 2)

> summary: places the genshin boys kiss you other than the lips (ft. bennett, chongyun, razor, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli)

> content: fluff , gn!reader , ooc(?idk)

here’s part one!

# BENNETT

where: your palm!

why: this man does not know how to stfu, so when you have to forcefully shush him, your palm is the best spot for his lips to kiss.

“It’s awfully quiet today,” you murmured as you turned on your heels, hearing the whirlwind of a boy coming your way. He nearly tumbled—so close to crashing at your feet but fortunately caught himself before he could hit the ground. He stood up straight, dusting his clothes with a breathy laugh before yelping out a pained, “Ow!”

“What happened?” You ask as you reach out to cup his face, checking his head and skin for any injuries.

The male chuckled with a closed eyed smile, “I got hit by a rock!” His voice echoed within the city, making you slightly cringe when your ears ached. He was quick to go off on a tangent, babbling about some nonsense that made you even more confused than before.

“Bennett,” you call out to grasp his attention. The moment he turned your way, you slapped a hand over his mouth with an amused smile. “I know you’re excited and want to talk, but we should move away from the Knights of Favonius headquarters before Captain Kaeya kills us.”

He kissed your palm gently, eliciting a ticklish sensation in your hand that made you pull away. Before you could do anything about his sneaky kisses, he grabbed your hand and began dragging you away, talking about some adventure team he was putting together.

# CHONGYUN

where: your shoulders!

why: he likes the smoothness of your shoulder when he lays down behind you and can rest easily without being judged.

The bedroom door creaked open to reveal the blue haired male who stood in the doorway with a pensive look on his face. Upon seeing you lying in your shared bed, he exhaled deeply and you could practically see relief wash over is features. “[y/n],” he breathed out as he shuffled into the room, scurrying over the bed to climb onto the silk sheets and lay himself in the spot behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his chest as gently as possible. As hesitant as he was, he was way too tired to be reluctant about holding you even thought you clearly felt the same need for touch as him. “’m so tired.”

After a long day of training, he was exhausted and was in desperate need of your touch in order to replenish the energy he had depleted earlier that day. It was only much better now that you were both living together and were able to cuddle as much as needed after work.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, doing his absolute best to push away the strong emotions that burned inside of his heart. He refused to flare-up in front of you ever again, but with you unknowingly doing things to stir him up, he was always struggling to keep calm.

Peppering kisses along your shoulders, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the cold sensation of his lips on your skin. It was a blissful feeling, warming up your heart with love despite how cold his body truly was. Too beautiful.

# RAZOR

where: your eyelids!

why: this one may sound weird but he just gets curious when he keeps watch and tends to do it without a thought.

Razor stood tall at the peak of the mountain that you both temporarily resided on. His chin was held high, chest puffed out with a sense of responsibility flowing through his veins at the thought of watching over you while you slept to keep you out of harms way. It wasn’t necessarily a demanding duty but for you, it meant a thousand times more than it usually would have.

The boy approached your sleeping body. You were rested on the ground under his jacket that barely shielded you from the cold weather tonight presented to you both. He gently tugged his jacket further up your body, covering your arm that had been slightly exposed.

You were cute like this, sleeping so peacefully with so much trust in the guy who could barely communicate yet you loved him so much. It was amazing.

Subconsciously, he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on your eyelid. You stirred in your sleep, forcing him to jolt away in surprise before settling when you murmured something sleepily, smiled and then relaxed. Your behavior was new to him and yet, it brought so many different feelings into his heart. Unknowing to you, he smiled genuinely and patted your head gently.

“You rest. I keep watch.”

# XIAO

where: your forehead!

why: he just thinks it is less embarrassing than trying to kiss you on the lips openly + less chances of him getting denied the kiss.

His expression was rather dark as you stood in front of one another. It looked like he was thinking deeply about something but you brushed it off, assuming it was just his way of sulking since you two were about to split for the night.

“I packed you some Almond Tofu, so you can eat some on your way back. I also got you a jacket to wear since it might be a little cold in the evening. I know you don’t sleep and stuff, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your rambling about his well-being wasn’t new to him, which is why he didn’t interrupt you. He watched with the same dark expression that seemed scary but if you looked closely, you would see just how soft those eyes had become after spending so much time with a “mere human” like you.

Grasping you by the back of you head, he pulled you forward and leaned in briskly, kissing your forehead softly before pulling away and turning around. You barely had a second to recover as he adjusted his mask on his face and disappeared from your sight, muttering nothing but a simple, “be careful.”

You smiled at the tingling sensation on you skin, knowing he had only escaped to avoid feeling any type of emotion after kissing you so brazenly. As mean as Xiao seemed, he really was a simpleton with you.

# XINGQIU

where: the back of your hand!

why: do i have to explain?

“Xingqiu, where are we going?” You asked with a tired smile on your lips as you allowed yourself to be dragged along this upward slope with no set destination in mind. The boy simply laughed, pulling you faster until you were nearly tripping over your own feet. By the time you had planned to complain once more, he came to an abrupt stop and you almost bumped into his body if it wasn’t for your quick senses. “Where are we?”

“Take a look, my liege. Quite fascinating, is it not?” He said as he took a seat on the branch perched on the top of the hill, big enough for the two of them to sit on. You plopped beside him, admiring the sun that was beginning to set while Xingqiu opened a book to the page he had left off on.

“My life seems fulfilled when I am sat here with a book in my hands and you by my side. Don’t you agree?” HIs words were sincere, surprisingly void of that mischievous tone he usually had these days.

“I’m not particularly fond of books like you, but I am extremely fond of you. So, yes, I do agree.” You said with a cheesy smile, leaning in his direction. The boy abruptly stood up, and you rose an eyebrow in confusion.

Bending his body slightly, he held out his hand to you until you placed yours on top of his. Once you did so, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand and flashed you an easy smile. “With this, I owe my life to you, my liege. A vow much greater than marriage.”

# ZHONGLI

where: your lips!

why: I legit couldn’t think of a non-lips spot so i gave up. mans just likes the way your lips taste like his favorite wine. two good things.

He admired his cup with bright eyes, absolute taken with the way it tasted on his tongue and hadn’t changed in all these years. It was a beautiful emotion that was a mixture of happiness and nostalgia, plus a bit of romance considering he was here with the one he loved.

“What do you think?” Zhongli asked, eyes full of curiosity as he turned in your direction. You hadn’t said anything all night and he assumed you weren’t enjoying the wine he had presented to you so happily.

On contrary, it was way too good to be wasted, so you chose to drink it slowly in order to savor the beautiful taste that somehow reminded you of Zhongli himself. Maybe it was because he talked about this wine too much.

“It tastes good,” you murmur, leaning into his side to gain a bit of warmth from the male who shared the emotion, leaning into your touch.

You glanced up at him, smiling softly when you already saw his eyes on you. “Stop staring so impolitely. Where are your manners?” You asked jokingly, giggling softly when Zhongli looked down and chuckled.

Leaning in, he cupped your cheek and smashed your lips together. He could taste the Osmanthus wine on you and it nearly made him melt into the kiss that he had long suppressed.

When he pulled away, a small smile settled into his lips, satisfaction in his eyes. “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember.”

a/n: finally, I finished it. im going to bed now uhhdhfjf (idk if i’ll ever do other characters but we’ll see)

[littlemisslipbalm]

“your turn”

Harry Styles was a romantic. He hated weddings. Rori Williams was practical. She hated weddings, too. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue.

A story of two semi-strangers to lovers with weddings, drunken confessions, and girls with two names.

gif has nothing to do with it but he looks fancy and i like it :) tpwk

Hi! this is for @meetmeinfleetwood to lovers fic challenge! and it’s a little cruel of me to post it today after those wedding pics came out but i have been working on this for awhile and tomorrow’s the deadline so if it’s too soon im sorry and if its just what you need enjoy! I used prompts 12 and 15! It’s my first ofc story which is a little strange for me but i wanted to use a name for this, but besides her hair and eye color and a name she’s pretty generic,,, idk thank you all for always reading and all of that. lmk what you think and reblogs are always really appreciated

Word Count: 9.3k | Warnings: drinking, swearing, implied? smut (couldn’t bring my heart to write any my apologies), harry being a silly drunk, mentions of being afraid of someone taking advantage of someone under the influence but ofc no! actual any misconduct -- a SITCH wedding!!! so cute ::))

Harry Styles was a romantic.

He loved love songs that professed their undying love for their significant other. He loved romance movies, rom coms especially, because they were happy and in love and he got to cry and laugh all in one. He loved writing his own songs about love and he loved spreading the idea of loving and treating others with kindness. He loved first dates and the relationships that sometimes sprouted out of them. He loved reading books about love and how to make it last. He loved poetry that waxed eloquent about love. He loved love.

He hated weddings.

Well, he hadn’t always hated weddings. In the beginning, they were like every other aspect of love, he loved them. But slowly, as he kept receiving announcements of engagement and wedding invitations and he kept not sending out letters of his own, his aversion grew.

Sure, he still loved going. He still wept for the happy couples when they committed themselves to each other. He still clapped profusely and danced to the dj or live band. He still tried to enjoy it. But with weddings he had a nagging sense in the back of his head reminding him that he still hadn’t found it yet. Each of his relationships had fallen short in some way as to not lead him to this destination. So when he sat at his assigned table at these various gatherings, he held a bit of apprehension, a bit of envy, about everything going on. He knew that his smiles were all a little forced and his laugh not quite genuine. His thoughts always managed to be controlled by his green-eyed monster that he always attempted to keep locked away. But at weddings, especially when the alcohol started flowing, he had a harder time controlling it.

Seeing all his friends getting together, getting married, and having children wore on him. Wore him thin more than he ever let on to anyone but his therapist. And his therapist couldn’t seem to give him a better answer than to be patient and not give up hope.

By 2021, Harry had decided that maybe he was just meant to be alone. Love was something he could admire, but it wasn’t meant for him. He could chase it, but it would never let him have it. He was unlucky in love and by Sarah and Mitch’s wedding in the Spring, he had come to terms with it.

He had even been optimistic for it, being Mitch’s Best Man and all had gotten his hopelessly romantic heart all aflutter. He was introduced to Sarah’s Maid of Honor, Renee Williams and she had been lovely. She was 31, a little older than Harry - but age wasn’t something that deterred him, and she had worked with Sarah in Los Angeles before Harry recruited Sarah for the band. They were best of friends and Sarah had known for a long time that Renee would be her Maid of Honor.

When Harry met Renee, he was sure that she was meant to be his person. She was beautiful and hilarious, her beauty mark at the side of her lip was so utterly unique he called her a “right Marilyn”. She insisted she was not a Marilyn Monroe type at all and had laughed. Harry had charmed her with his expert flirting and claimed that just because she was a brunette didn’t mean she was a Marilyn. She had smiled and bantered through the rehearsal dinner with him at her side. He was entranced, it had to be Renee, he had been so sure of it.

When Renee had walked down the aisle just before Sarah, Harry had been sure of it. When Renee had smiled at Harry as Mitch slipped on Sarah’s wedding band, Harry had been sure of it. When he had hooked his arm around hers as they walked down the aisle and into a foyer, Harry had been sure of it. When she laughed at his jokes while they waited for their wedding party photos to be taken, Harry had been sure of it.

When Renee walked up to Harry at the reception with another man wrapped around her, Harry wasn’t so sure of it anymore.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Corey,” Renee smiles giddily between the two men.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’ and he swallows harshly before blinking and putting on a sweet smile. He thrusts his right hand out for Corey to shake.

“Hullo, mate,” Harry says happily.

Corey greets Harry, extending his hand to meet Harry’s with a warm smile and a “how are you”. Harry laughs boisterously and takes a sip of his champagne flute. They shake hands with a firm up and down motion.

“Planning on getting really drunk,” Harry says in response to Corey’s question. “Have a great night, you two,” he finishes and stalks off for a refill.

Renee watches him go with a little bit of a confused look on her face. She sees him tilt his head back and finish his drink before turning to face her boyfriend and peck his cheek. She mumbles to him, “He’s a really nice guy, wouldn’t stop chatting my ear off the past few days. All these people must make him antsy.”

He nods back to her, “They must.”

Harry sidles up to the open bar, discarding his empty flute and exchanging it for a much stronger drink.

“Tequila. Neat...Please.” He sighs and runs a hand through his curls that are slowly becoming less and less coiffed. His fingers slide to the collar of his shirt and tug, attempting to loosen it a little.

“Rough night already?” Someone asks from beside him.

His face turns to them and sees a smiling brunette. Her eyes are big, larger than most eyes he’s come across. They’re brown with tinges of gold and green, likely making them hazel by her standard since most people prefer saying hazel eyes to brown. Her smile is bright and clean and if Harry hadn’t already heard her speak he would assume she was American from that smile. It was perfect, too perfect - the teeth both straight and blindingly white.

He raises his eyebrows at her and thinks about his response. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them parted, but he remains silent when the bartender hands him his tequila. Harry wraps a specifically less ringed hand tonight, he had forgone his ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings as well as the rest of them actually on his left hand. His right hand still had two: the large flashing lavender gemstone encrusted in a gold casing from Stevie Nicks on his middle finger and then a clean gold signet ring with little crosses on the sides on the adjacent ring finger. Every other finger was noticeably empty. So when he picks up the glass there is no familiar clink which draws the attention of himself.

The woman doesn’t pay any attention to his hand, she’s still waiting for him to respond to her question, as well as waiting for her other drink to be made. She was taking advantage of the two drink system and getting two for herself right now, so she didn’t have to come back until much later.

“You have no idea,” is how Harry decides to respond and then turns to leave. He forgets about the woman and sits at his assigned table for his entire drink, talking casually with the people who come to speak with him.

When he's finished, he goes back to the bar to order a second tequila. He thinks about the girl who had stared at him with her big brown eyes. How she had seen him and thought to ask how his night was when it seemed to be going to shit. And how he had blown her off with barely a glance. God, he could be such a prick. After he receives his drink, he forgets yet again and continues to drown his sorrows in the golden liquid that helps him numb the pain that he had once again missed out on his fairytale love story.

The girl Harry had run into sat in the corner of the ballroom for the majority of the night. She settled on just having that first round of drinks for herself and one glass of obligatory champagne during the toasts. Other than that, she had promised herself she wouldn’t get drunk and go off with a random stranger. This was not a wedding for that. This wedding couldn’t be for that. She just needed to keep her head low and try to have a semi-pleasant time.

When she was nursing her champagne through the toasts, the man at the bar caught her eye again. She knew who he was. He was the Best Man after all. Sarah talked about him a lot, even Renee after the past few days, but seeing him at the bar had been the first time she’d ever seen him up that close. It was strange, he was so human. So tangible in that moment. His shoulders shook with each breath he took. His fingers tapped as they waited for his drink. His green eyes blinked and darted around as he took in his surroundings and even looked at her. He simply was and it had startled her to see him in a slightly bewildered state at the bar, but again, she wasn’t one to judge.

Get through the wedding. Try to have a semi-pleasant time.

It was time for the Best Man’s speech. Renee had just given the Maid of Honor’s and now Harry was up. He stood up and wavered a little as he tried to stand up straight. The neat tequila likely makes his stance a little harder to maintain. Mitch looks up at Harry at his side and smiles fondly.

Harry raises one hand in an awkward wave while the other is planted firmly on the table.

“Hullo,” he starts, “I’m Harry and I’m the Best Man, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

The entire group of guests laugh wholeheartedly, taken by the talented young man.

“To start,” he stutters, his words slurring slightly from the alcohol he’s had, and his smile slithers into a smirk. “Let’s hear it for the bride and groom, the lovely Sarah and Mitch Jones!”

Queue the laughter again. Harry laughs too when Mitch slaps his arm playfully, he turns to look at him with a mock ‘what did I do wrong’ expression.

“I had a speech written out, took a week to write, made it nice and poetic for these two lovebirds, but it seems I’ve misplaced it,” he pats at his pockets and sighs before rubbing his forefinger at his bottom lip. “I hate weddings.”

Everyone laughs again, thinking he’s joking. Harry grimaces but it passes as a smile even though she can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes.

He rambles on for a few minutes about love and commitment, how this is just the beginning for Sarah and Mitch and everyone laughs at the appropriate times and just when he’s wrapping up, successfully stumbling through his messy mind, everyone begins to clap.

“To the happy couple…” queue applause, but she sees him say something else, it’s drowned out by the crowd cheering and clinking glasses again.

He sits back down, downing his champagne glass that’s been refilled twice already during the speeches. Mitch leans over and whispers something in Harry’s ear as he twists a hand through his hair. Harry shifts away from Mitch and gives him a look, telling Mitch that he’s fine.

The party goes on, a few more speeches, a few more glasses of champagne for Harry, a few more sighs from the girl in the back of the room.

She watches the first dance of Mitch and Sarah but once that part is over she slinks off. She’s got half a drink left and all she wants is to be alone. Tired of the party, tired of the people, tired of having to try to have a good time. The Rowland-Jones Party had rented the entire place out, so she wanders out of the main room and down a hallway until the music is a faint buzz in her ear. The air grows colder as the amount of people dwindles from over a hundred to one.

There’s a door to her right that has an intricate golden handle that she pulls down on. It opens quietly onto a similar ballroom that is slightly smaller than the one the party was going on in. It’s quiet and spacious, her steps echo as she enters on heeled feet. The clicking of her satin stilettos resonate against the linoleum. She walks to the center of the room and turns around herself, lifting her head to the light in the room. An ornate chandelier is still above her, it’s the same gold as the handle that let her in. Her eyes travel to the walls that contain swirls of gold as well, everything was encrusted in gold and splotchy vintage mirrors. It was beautiful and she saw herself in the reflection of one of those splotchy vintage mirrors and actually felt beautiful in that moment.

No one else saw her but herself and she thought she was beautiful, a fleeting thought as she watched her body move. No one to watch as her reflection swayed with her. Her lavender dress swished back and forth, the end of it brushing around her ankles. The tulle fabric climbed her torso, cinching at her waist and draping over her breasts. The sleeves fluttered over her shoulders and ended midway down her upper arm. The somewhat sheer material made her tan skin look all the more carmely in the golden light of the chandelier. Her pendant necklace was silver and glinted in the light as it sat evenly over her exposed clavicle and decolletage.

In the corner opposite of the door there was a single table with three chairs. It seemed whoever was meant to put things away had grown tired and left these out. She wasn’t complaining as she crossed the floor to take a seat. It was the perfect escape. It was quiet and not too cold in the room, which was especially nice since she had left her jacket in the coat room. What wasn’t so nice is that her phone had died and she had nothing to do in the room. It wasn’t horrible though, she had wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She just feared what would happen if she sat alone too long with no escape of the internet to drown those thoughts.

That contemplation was squashed with an unwitting solution not ten minutes later. She had been sitting at the table, sipping her drink occasionally and staring at the chandelier. Sighing with content that it was finally silent beside the clink of her melting ice cubes. The house mixed drink was strong, but with each passing second it grew more and more diluted. She considered herself completely sober.

She only questioned that when she noticed a second person in the room. She hadn’t heard them open the door, but she heard their loud footsteps shortly after.

He all but stumbled in and was entranced by the chandelier like she had been. He walks to the center in a similar fashion and twists around, only this time his balance isn’t as good as hers. He ends up on his ass, legs splayed in front of him and hands behind him only cushioning his fall a little. He lets out a huff, “Fuck.” He runs a hand over his face before bringing it down to look around the room again. His eyes are foggy with alcohol, everything hazy and slightly blurry. It feels like he’s moving with superspeed but as she watches him with a tilted head she wonders why he’s moving so slowly.  

He squints while looking around after a moment, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair. His tongue comes to wet his lips, but this time it's for a touch too long like he’s genuinely tasting the liquor on them. She raises her brows, observing him, her presence seemingly unknown.

“Oi, you!” He slurs the words and points lazily at her reclined in her chair. “Are you real?”

She half smiles and replies with a simple ‘yes’.

“I like your dress,” he says merely like he was stating a fact rather than giving a compliment. His hair falling into his eyes again despite him just pushing it back.

“Thanks.”

He makes his way to standing, his process rather ungraceful. He twists onto his hands and knees and begins to push himself up. He slips once before making it to full standing, he sways slightly and looks around again like he’s forgotten why he stood up. His eyes land on her again and he decides to make his way over to the table.

“You should probably sit,” she says, watching him splay his arms around him to keep his balance. She had seen him an hour and a half ago and he seemed fine, but now he seemed absolutely and utterly pissed.

“Thanks, mum,” he says as he thunks into the seat beside her, his hand waving off her suggestion.

Her brows raise at the slightly rude comment, but she leans back in her seat still observing him.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She asks once he’s settled and has his head propped up with one of his hands. She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him scan her face again, trying to see if he recognizes her.

His mind must come up empty, a vague memory of the bar slipping away without a second thought.

“It was a joke,” he shrugs.

“No it wasn’t,” she replies easily.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward a little shakily, “Who are you?”

“Aurora.” She licks at her own lips, a stray bit of liquid lingering on her lips.

“That’s a Disney princess name,” he says, unconvinced, how most drunk people were when you told them the truth.

“And my great-grandmother’s and mine,” she responds, a grin playing on her lips as she watches him think it over. “It’s wild how multiple people can have the same name. Did you know people can share a last name as well?”

He leans back in his chair now, unhappy with her snarky response.

“Isn’t that why we’re here, two people joining together and sharing the same last name now?” He threads his fingers as he speaks, mimicking something coming together.

“Yep,” She perks at the question he poses. “You still didn’t answer my question.” Her brows raise once playfully.

“What?” Harry seemed to have lost the plot, his fuzzy drunken brain choosing to forget the first thing she asked him while in this private ballroom of theirs.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She repeats, louder and with emphasis, the words echoing this time.

“Oh,” he looks up to the ceiling and blows air past his lips harshly, “S’ a long story.”

“We got all night,” she offers, and raises her glass to her lips once again.

“A night wouldn’t even cover half of it,” he ponders seriously, his mind reeling. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“Why me?”  She laughs like she’s just received the most delightful surprise.

“Because,” He starts and then sits quiet for a moment before leaning forward, elbows on the table as he peers at her, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You only just met me,” she responds. “Not to mention, you’re drunk as fuck, Best Man. Just minutes ago I watched you stumble in here and truly fall on your ass.”

“Then tell me about yourself and I’ll explain my hatred for weddings.”

“You’re awfully good at bargaining for being this inebriated.”

“I never lose my charm, no matter how pissed I may be,” he smirks and gives a sloppy wink, hair falling in his face yet again.

She scoffs, but she is rather amused and intrigued by the man beside her. His tie now completely loosened, hair falling every which way, and his green eyes set on her. The shiny shoes he wore slipped around on the ground as he shuffled his feet below him like a child wanting to go play. She figured it was just his drunk brain trying to amuse himself or something. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue. She at least had to entertain the foolish notion that maybe he actually was interested in getting to know her. If anything, it would help pass the time until she could go home.

“I’ll bite,” she relents.

The smirk doesn’t leave his face, it only widens, “Only if I can, too.”

“I wasn’t saying-”

“Shush, sh-sh-shush. I know that,” he holds a hand up at her, trying to get her to be quiet. He sways again, even in his seat he looks as if he could fall over at any moment. She wondered if he might not remember this tomorrow. “I was bein’...” he licks his lips in a pause, “suggestive.”

She laughs again, knowing his sober brain probably would have chosen a more articulate and suave word since ‘suggestive’ was rather tactless and more straight to the point. If she learned anything from all the conversations she overhead about him, Harry was definitely one for tact.

“You were something, that’s for sure,” she wraps a hand around Harry’s wrist, she draws the hand down from its hovering state and lays it against the table again. She withdraws her own hand back to her glass, her drink almost completely gone now.

He smiles, pleased with himself, but unaware that his charms had worn off with his exorbitant amount of alcohol consumed. At least on this girl they weren’t working. She had never been attracted to people who were too drunk to help themselves and she always hoped that’s how others felt too. She was thankful he had stumbled in on her rather than someone who didn’t feel the same way. It made her sick to think of what someone with evil intentions might do if they came across a babbling drunken version of Harry. Pushing those thoughts away since that wasn’t the case, she decided to pat his hand once just in reassurance to herself and him that this was really happening.

“I’m twenty-five.” She states.

Harry nods, a small smile on his lips now rather than a smirk as he watches her again. He liked how smoothly she moved rather than the rest of the world in his drunken eyes, everything else was choppy and fast. She was elegant and fluid, calming even.

“I love love,” Harry says, eyes remaining on hers, no trace of a joke in his tone, “And it hates me.”

“That can’t be true,” she squints at him, a frown gracing her face for a moment at the sadness she sees in his watery eyes. Not crying watery, just watery from his drunken state.

He says nothing, waiting for her to offer more information about herself before he says anything else. This was the deal after all. She quickly realizes why he isn’t responding and sighs, conversation with drunks was tedious already, but Harry seemed determined to make it even harder.

“I’m from California.”

“They always are,” Harry mutters to himself. He ignores her hum of a question, asking what he just said with a simple sound. “All my friends, they’re either getting married or they’re already married and got kids on the way or whatever. They all found love and I’m just here with fuck all.”

She sincerely doubts what the drunken man is telling her right now, but she knows how to play the game now to get more information. “I hate my job,” she states.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed, like I fucked up one too many times and now I’m doomed to never find love.”

Her eyes widen at this, he sounds so damn sad and she wishes she could take his pain away. She knew what a good guy and she couldn’t imagine why he would deserve to feel this way. No one deserved to feel like they weren’t worthy of love. His sad state truly almost brought her to tears. She’s there in a stunned silence and Harry is confused why she hasn’t said anything more about herself. It was her turn.

“What’s something else about you?” He asks, his hand fiddling with itself on the table. She notices once again that there aren’t as many rings on his fingers as what she thought was usual.

She licks her lips and reaches her hand forward. She grasps Harry’s fiddling hand and stops his movement. “I feel sorry that you feel this way, no one deserves the kind of pain you’re inflicting on yourself. I’m very very sorry for you, Harry.”

“That’s not really…” He trails off, losing his focus on her face and instead looking at their hands touching. The feeling is so intense in his buzzing body. Her touch was so calming compared to the electric feeling in his body. It felt nice.

“Can I ask you a different question and then I’ll tell you something no one knows about me?”

He nods eagerly.

“And you can’t dodge the question, you really have to answer it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What did you say at the end of your speech? It got drowned out by applause, but I saw you say something.”

“You noticed?” He asks kind of surprised, then scratches at his eyebrow. He sees her slight glare and knows to get to his answer. “Asked when it’d be my turn…like to fall in love, y’know.”

She sighs, saddened yet again by his words. “Okay, well, here’s my secret... I hate weddings, too.”

Harry’s eyes light up, maybe he really was in love. She purses her lips and pulls back from him.

“I think you’re my soulmate,” he breathes out, again making a false confession. His drunken brain wants it to be true. He’s desperate for his search to be over, for her to be his person.

She smiles that same sad smile that she keeps getting when he says these sad things to her.

“I assure you, I am not, Best Man.”

He looks at her confusedly. She was beautiful, she was clarity to him. Her brown hair was straight with a little wave in it, like it was straightened for the occasion but never truly that way otherwise. It flowed around her head and shoulders, but she had it tucked behind both ears. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, she just simply was beautiful. Her sun tanned skin looked soft under the golden glow and Harry was sure she was an angel or something.

“Why not?” He insists, leaning forward.

She stands up from her seat. He follows clumsily behind her, standing as well. He was still taller than her even in her high heels. He smiled like a lovesick child down at her, his eyes as big as the moon. She bites at her lip as she sees him look at her so lovingly, so misguidedly. Then she leans up towards his face, up on her tiptoes and past his lips. Her hands hold him straight with them curled in his suit’s lapels. She presses a sweet and gentle kiss to his cheek, closer to his jaw than anything.

“Good night, Harry,” she whispers against his skin before pulling away.

His eyes flutter open, his looks at her confusedly, slightly unaware that he had closed his eyes at all.

“Good night…” He had already forgotten her name, something with an A...or was it an O? He’d have to ask Sarah and Mitch about the girl who had talked to him in the empty golden ballroom, the girl he had fallen in love with. He was certain. She was the one - if only he could find out her name. If he remembered this at all or if he just thought it was a dream.

She leaves the room before him and as she leaves she wonders if she maybe should have made sure he was alright, but she figured their talk was sobering enough. The night was ending and she had a sneaking suspicion that there were plenty of people here tonight looking out for him.

-

Harry forgot about the girl in the ballroom. Or at least he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. He had woken up at Tom’s place where he had said he would stay after the wedding reception so he hadn’t gone home with a girl. He couldn’t remember her name so he couldn’t really ask anyone about her and he didn’t exactly have a lot of people he could ask. He wanted to ask Sarah and Mitch, but they were already off on their honeymoon and he was one of those people who would never bother a couple on their honeymoon. He was too embarrassed to ask Renee and anyone else for that matter.

So, instead, he forgot. Harry forgot about her for three weeks until Sarah and Mitch returned. He had called them for a hike and lunch the moment their plane had landed. He had missed some of his best friends. It was a lull in the year, where he wasn’t touring or in the studio, just living and writing when he felt like it. So maybe he was in need of some inspiration.

“Ah! The Jones’!” He exclaims as he walks up to their parked car at the head of the trail.

Sarah laughs and Mitch rolls his eyes, half-heartedly since he’s just as happy to see Harry as Harry is to see him.

“I missed you,” Mitch says as he brings Harry in for a hug.

“Don’t let the missus hear that,” Harry tuts while he sends a wink over Mitch’s shoulder to Sarah.

“It’s all he could talk about for the past few weeks,” Sarah jokes as she goes in for a hug with Harry. “How do you think Harry is? Hope he’s eating? I miss Harry.” She mimics Mitch’s voice.

Mitch shakes his head shyly, a smile spreading on his face after a moment. “That. Is not true at all,” he assures Harry, “But you do look a little thinner. What have you been eating?”

Harry elbows him with a grin, “I’m fine. Been bored so I’ve just been filling the time with working out.”

They start their ascent up the hill and into the canyon. Mitch nods, his worry for his friend subsiding momentarily before he says something strange.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, but you’ve been gone, about a girl at the wedding.”

“Oh?” Sarah gives Mitch a knowing look.

“Yeah, well the thing is, I’m not sure if she was real or not. I think she was real, but I was so drunk, there’s so many bits missing in my memory.”

Sarah and Mitch both laugh. “You were very drunk, H,” Mitch confirms.

Harry ignores him, “I even asked her if she was real and she said yes, but y’know people can lie in dreams. All I remember is she was amazing and she had a princess name, I think.”

Sarah thinks about the guest list. “No princess names that I can think of. What did she look like?”

Harry squints ahead of them, his sunglasses pushing his curls back on the top of his head. “She had straight brown hair, not long or short. She said she was, uh, twenty-five. She was in lavender, I think.”

“You think a lot,” Mitch interjects which earns him a glare from Harry.

Harry thinks about this part that he remembered vividly, how she had been so confident that he wasn’t. He adds, “...And I told her I was in love with her.”

“Oh god, Harry,” Sarah sighs.

Mitch gives Harry an apologetic smile.

“She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t run off either. We talked for awhile.”

“Maybe it was a dream,” Sarah says.

“Okay, let’s see,” Mitch grows to be the leader of the investigation, wanting everything for his best friend to find the love he knew he deserved. “Twenty-five year old brunettes at our wedding who are single. C’mon there weren't that many people there.”

Sarah thinks about it again. “Renee’s sister is twenty-five. I don’t remember what she was wearing, I hardly saw her all night,” she pauses, “Which is strange since she wasn’t on the job for once.”

“What do you mean ‘on the job’?” Harry asks curiously, remembering his girl saying she hated her job.”

“She’s a wedding planner,” Sarah says, glancing at him because she was almost sure that Renee’s sister was not who Harry was talking about. “But she had referred me to someone else for the wedding, she consulted sometimes and got us a discount, but said she didn’t like working with people she knew personally.”

Harry nodded, how could Renee’s sister be his girl? How could a wedding planner hate weddings? And wouldn’t it be all the more awkward if the girl was Renee’s sister? Renee’s little sister, could it be? He had no clue.

“I don’t think it’s her, though,” Sarah gives a half-smile, “She’s not super...uh, how do I say this?”

As Sarah says “touchy-feely,” Mitch interjects.

“She’s pretty cold-hearted. She’s relatively nice, but what makes her such a good wedding planner is she doesn’t get caught up in the sentimentality of it, she just understands other people’s emotions and knows how to make them feel amazing.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Sarah looks at Mitch with a strong glare. After all, he was talking about her best friend’s little sister.

“Well, what’s her name?” Harry insists, semi-off put, but knowing her secret made him think it was possible for Renee’s sister and his ballroom girl to be the very same.

“Rori Williams, think it’s short for something else, but I don’t know, as long as I’ve known her she goes by Rori.” Sarah gives Harry a sad smile and it reminds him of his mystery girl.

“Do you think I could meet her or something? I just want to know if it’s her.” Harry says as they reach the first peak on their hike. He looks out at the view from there, Los Angeles was green for once, but he knew it would quickly fade to brown and tan as the spring plants died off again from the summer heat.

“Pretty sure she’s off working on some destination wedding right now. She doesn’t like being bothered when she’s working,” Sarah gives Harry a look for two reasons as she says that. One, because she knows his next question would be to contact her anyway. And two, she’s saying how he is exactly the same, hates being contacted when he’s busy with work. “I can text Renee to see what’s up.”

Harry nods, “Please…” He begins to imagine Rori as his ballroom girl and mutters to himself, “A June Wedding…” getting lost in a silly little daydream.

-

“Harry Styles is asking after you,” Renee snickers over the cellphone line.

“What is this? The 1800s?” Rori sighs, as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She tries to brush her hair from her face with a flick of her head, which makes for a rather silly sight as her head and shoulder move awkwardly. “People don’t ‘ask after’ anyone anymore.”

She was in Hawaii, Maui specifically, steaming a sneaky last crinkle out of the latest bride’s wedding veil.

“Well, he still is doing it. You know how he is.”

“I actually don’t,” Rori responds, easily, ignoring the memories of her two encounters with him. “What does he want?”

“Wants to meet you or something,” Renee says easily. “Thinks he met you at Sarah’s wedding, obviously impossible since I know you scampered off half way through the reception and he was falling down drunk at the half way marker as well…” she trails off.

Rori knows her sister well and expects the next thing to come out of Renee’s mouth.

“Oh my god! Did you hook up with him?!”

Expecting this, Rori responds quickly and calmly, “No, we did not hook up, I would never... I did watch him fall on his ass, though.”

“So it was you!”

“What was me?” Rori squints her eyes at her sister over the phone and finally straightens from her steaming task. She feels like she’s only half paying attention to the conversation, especially since she had no intention of meeting up with Harry. He had been so sweet and sad, and she truly wished him the best, but she knew she wasn’t the answer to his problem.

“You!” Renee all but yells into the phone, “Are his dream girl! He’s been wondering if you were even real for weeks.”

“I’m real,” Rori sighs and crosses the room she’s in to sit at the desk she was using as a work space. She flicks through the planner she was using for the Hearst wedding, set to take place tomorrow. “But I’m certainly not his dream girl...I told him that when he said he was in love with me.”

“He what?!” Renee exclaims and hears her sister sigh once again, she knows Rori is growing tired of the conversation and is ready to offer an excuse to hang up any moment now. “Nevermind that, I’m going to tell Sarah to give him your number and the date you get back to Los Angeles. Keep next weekend clear.”

Before Rori can open her strawberry pink lips to reply, Renee is squealing a goodbye and hanging up. She felt her shoulders sag with the empty line, she reclined into the nicely plush swivel chair. This is why she stayed out of love and relationships when they didn’t relate to work, they were exhausting. Too much ‘he said, she said’ going on at all times. Color palettes, seating arrangements and menus were simple, they made sense, they could be arranged and put into place. Relationships were messy, the actual event of a wedding could even be messy, but when she planned them out, for a single moment everything was orderly and simple. She was in control. She knew she couldn’t be Harry’s dream girl because she knew she couldn’t control that situation.

-

Upon arriving back in the continental United States, at the end of June, Rori ubered immediately to her apartment in Silverlake. Well, it was a converted garage behind a house of a friend of Renee’s. Like most apartments in Los Angeles, it was funky, but it was Rori’s until she decided where she wanted to move. She never wanted to buy in LA and she never wanted to upgrade from the place she had called home for the past four years.

Almost immediately after dropping her pink work tote bag and worn backpack on the floor next to her medium sized navy suitcase, her phone rang through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting with an unknown number. A New York number. Possibly a new client, she picks up quickly and shuts the window-paned door behind her. The days were long, the longest day of the year had almost arrived, yet the sun was still beginning to set in the sky and turn the light blue into a painting of oranges pinks and purples.

“Hello?”

“Is Rori Williams there?” A British voice asks, almost timidly.

“Who’s asking?”

“...Harry.”

“I was told you’d be calling or something along those lines,” she smiles to herself.

Harry sat in his room, chewing at his lip, still unsure if the voice on the other side of the phone call was the woman he had talked to previously.

“Can we go for a drink sometime? How’s tomorrow?”

“Someone is quite enthusiastic.”

“It’s just...I’m trying to figure something out.”

“So I’ve heard,” she chuckles slightly.

“So you won’t tell me whether you’re the girl I talked to at Sarah and Mitch’s wedding will you?”

“What would be the fun in that?”

“So it’s a right Cinderella, if the shoe fits situation,” he mumbles, slightly to himself, but she hears him clearly.

She laughs.

“I don’t really care for Cinderella, I’m not really one for Disney princesses at all, actually.”

His breath catches, a foggy memory of something having to do with princesses tries to break into his mind. He couldn’t remember still and he vowed time and time again that he would never get that drunk again. Too much time lost.

“Alright, Harry. I’ve just gotten home from a work trip so I’m planning on a bath, some wine, and some terribly raunchy TV to get my mind off of my life. How about you pick a time and a place for drinks and hopefully I will show up? Great! Goodnight.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, just clicks the red button that hangs up the phone and goes on with her professed plans. Harry sits in stunned silence for a few moments, whatever he had gotten himself into was going to be a ride of a lifetime.

-

At a quarter past six, Harry sits anxiously at the bar top of a semi casual, semi fancy, totally cool bar he loved. It was private so he wouldn’t be bombarded with people, but it was still lively enough that it wouldn’t be dead silent if conversation lulled between him and Rori. That is, if she showed up.

His foot begins to tap, ever so persistently against the silver footrest at the bottom of the bar. His eyes shift from right to left, not wanting to order a drink before she arrives, but also not wanting to wait much longer and not order a drink. He’d waived off the bartender twice already.

She walks in, right on time, Harry had just arrived early. Her lips part into a happy smile at his anxious stance at the bar, he mirrors her expression at the sight of her.

She’s wearing a billowy white button down, the sleeves cinching perfectly at her petite wrists, cinched beneath a brown corset-like tank top. Her breasts showed their true size today in this outfit. She had the collar pulled out and the corset made it so that her cleavage was perfectly sculpted just beneath the crisp white cloth. Her pants were sleek and black, understated to draw more of a focus to her top as well as the lavender jewel inlaid pendant hanging just above the swells of her breast. Harry’s eyes dipped to that level for a moment, but quickly recovered to focus on her face. The night of the wedding had been blurry, but he was sure Rori’s face was the one of his mystery girl.

He’s shy tonight and a little more reserved than last time. He’s out of his comfortable bubble, what could anyone expect from a man so constantly watched. He fidgets with the top most button of his shirt that was buttoned and thinks about unbuttoning it to reveal a little more of his chest, but he refrains. At a friend’s wedding he feels safe, but in public he’s always watching, always aware of the possible prying eye. But like he had said drunkenly to Rori, he always maintained his charm, no matter the circumstances.

“Lavender was gorgeous on you, but this…” he gives a graceful sweep of his hand to gesture at her outfit tonight, “is extremely enchanting.”

“So you remember me in lavender? I thought you couldn’t remember me at all.” She grins as she stands directly beside him, similar to the first time they had chatted at a bartop.

Harry clears his throat at her tease, “I knew once I laid eyes on you, I would know. So now I know.”

She smirks at his reasoning and orders a vodka cranberry, both not wanting to get off her ass or look any certain way. Vodka cranberries were acceptable mature drinks, but not overly pretentious in any way. Harry tells the bartender to make it two. She looks at him with a discerning eye.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” She asks as she slides into the bar seat that seems to be trying to look vintage but was likely made no less than five years ago.

Harry sits too, more easily since his legs are longer than hers. “We met in the ballroom for the first time, did we not?”

“No...we met at the bar in the reception room.” Her hand splays to feel the stone of this counter, cold unlike the wood of the previous one. “We were about this close after you’d rudely stepped ahead of me and ordered before I could...not that you noticed. I asked if you were having a rough night and you pretty much dismissed me.” She bites her lip as she tells him the story, her eyes widen as she watches the distress roll over his features at what she says.

“Oh god,” One of his hands reaches to grab her hand to emphasize his apology, “I’m so sorry, that’s so rude. I was having quite a rough night as you would eventually see.”

He stares at her face, trying to meet her eyes, but she’s glued to the sight of their hands intertwined. He was so smooth and it was making her melt, making the walls she had purposefully put up for this date weak. She had rules, especially for guys like Harry - not that there was anyone that compared to him in her life, but she had them and she knew she couldn’t just be swept off her feet by his sweet voice and gorgeous face that has the most puppy-dog look on it.

She knows she shouldn’t but the extra ice she had added to her personality melts away, her eyes going slightly moony as she watches him visibly relax again. “No worries, I enjoyed your company upon the second meeting, even if you didn’t even remember my name after it.”

“Well,” he finally catches her eye, “That’s where I have a bit of a bone to pick.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t tell me your real name...gave me some fake name I can’t even remember, but it certainly wasn’t…” His eyes shift to her pendant again and he looks back at her brassy eyes in the bar’s lighting. “If your name is Rori Williams, why is your pendant an ‘A’?” He says slowly, another foggy memory trying to break the surface of his knowledge but still failing.

She finally feels in control of the situation, calm and assured of herself, which was maybe unfair since it seemed Harry really had a hard time remembering that night and she could really fuck with him if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t - couldn’t - with those earnest eyes looking at her.

“I told you my real name the first time we talked, Harry. It’s Aurora,” she retracts her hand from beneath his grasp and touches at the necklace, “I go by Rori both socially and professionally, but officially it’s Aurora and this had been my great-grandmother’s. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Almost as beautiful as its wearer,” he smirks, his gaze stuck on her face, attempting to convey something specific. She thinks she knows what he’s saying with his look.

“You’re quite the flirt,” she rolls her eyes playfully before specifically choosing to take a sip of her drink through the little straw the bartender had put in it. It draws Harry’s attention to her lips, and after a moment they were wet with a bit of excess vodka cranberry and Harry felt himself grow a little hot at the tips of his ears when her eyes meet with his. She had caught him staring, but he recovers easily.

“I remember telling you I never lose my charm, it’s true is it not?” Harry inquires, head leaning closer to her as he takes a sip of his own drink, making a show to lick his lips after removing them from the edge of the lowball glass.

Her laughter is loud but not overbearing, Harry thinks it’s the best laugh he’s ever heard even if she’s laughing at him. She’s true in that laugh, she’s not trying to make him fall for her with that laugh, it’s just her enjoying herself.

She responds with something sweet and the two begin the back and forth of a successful date. They both drink around three drinks as the night persists, but it’s enough for her to feel the burning pull inside the pit of her belly for Harry. His hands stay relatively to himself besides a few subtle touches at her hair and hands every so often, his feet are the ones to blame. At one point in the night, he hooks his loafer covered foot around her ankle and she is quick to lean into it, reciprocating the footsie with ease. Each brush of his leg against hers is electrifying, every nerve in her body was beginning to go crazy. She was buzzing in a way that she hadn’t when she had first encountered Harry. Tonight he was more suave, but with a tinge of timidness that made him irresistible.

Harry made sure he wouldn’t get drunk tonight, ordering only as much as Rori. He didn’t want to be the fool who couldn’t remember their time together, again. Plus, he didn’t want to forget any of their time together, he wanted to remember it all. Everything about her was amazing, the feeling he had about her, the nagging desire to meet her was for a reason, he was sure of it. If her voice was a melody, then she was the most beautiful love song he had ever heard.

At 11:30, he leans in close to Rori, his nose brushing at the hair tucked at her ear and asks her if she wants to leave. She looks at him confused, the warm feeling in her stomach falls because she thinks he wants to end the night.

“Oh,” she says dejected, she swore it was going well. “Right..That’s it.”

Harry’s brows crinkle at her sad face.

“No, love, I was saying,” he raises his brows, “Y’know.”

“Oh! Right! You just sounded so...I don’t know, serious.” She sinks in her seat, realizing her presumptions had been wrong.

“I was trying to be,” he twists his lips trying to find the word, as blush rises on his cheeks. “Seductive.”

The two of them are quickly realizing they can’t pretend with each other. Rori can’t keep up the harsh facade against love with him, he sees right through it. Harry can’t play his old tricks with her, she sees right through them.

She laughs again, “Well, it just sounded like you were bored. Sometimes your moves fall really flat.” She offers a sweet wink in consolation for his failed attempt at trying to really get her weak in the knees.

They were a lovesick mess together as they clambered off their bar seats and exit the bar that had gotten increasingly loud.

“So what’s next?” She asks on the warm summer night.

He steps closer and takes the liberty of fiddling with the strap of the corset she has on. His head is tilted down as he towers over her. “You know me Rori, I’m a hopeless romantic so I desperately want to take you out for dinner sometime and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but,” his breath fans over her face now as he shifts impossibly closer, “I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me. Just tell me what you’d prefer and it’s all yours.”

Her breathing has become a slight pant as his words wash over her. His nose brushes over the ridge of hers and she takes the moment to put her hands on his shoulders and pull him onto her. They were in the alleyway beside the bar, away from prying eyes except a few people too drunk to recognize Harry's face that is all but hidden in Rori.

“Harry,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut as she makes the decision to cross them into the point of no return. She wants this too much. She hadn’t thought this would be how her night would go, thought she would brush him off and never see him again, but god, she needed his warm body everywhere. Needed him to touch every part of her.

“Rori,” he responds.

“I want the second one first,” she whispers, feeling a little too eager, but feeling Harry press excitedly against her reassures her.

His lips press a searing kiss to her and she makes a sound of happiness at the contact. Her hands fist at the fabric of his shirt as she presses her lips feverishly back onto his. Harry’s quick to grip at the back of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her tight to him as he licks into her mouth.

“Can still taste that last vodka cran,” he notes before kissing her again.

Their tongues rub against each other, sloppily but with a tenderness hidden there as well. She snorts at his words which makes him smile and they’re kissing is becoming more silly as they try to contain their laughter. He pulls away, finally giving up trying to maintain the kiss while they both laughed.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” Harry asks as he leans his forehead against hers.

Rori’s eyes flicker open and stare into his, the focus only on his eyes and the sprinkle of light freckles and beauty marks below them. She nods her head, making his move with it. They both smile, trying to contain their laughter once more.

She presses her lips against his once more for a small peck and then lowers her head into the crook of his neck. The skin warm and smooth against hers as she whispers happily to him.

“It’s your turn now, Harry,” Rori says blissfully.

She had been the answer to all his questions.

-

[jemmo]

Just wanted to let you know your bad buddy tags always get me so emotional particularly your thoughts on Pran. He is my son and I'm sad his feelings are kinda misunderstood by people in the fandom because he focuses on more than Pat's feelings. Wanting to call his mom simply because he was worried she would be lonely and worried without him told me everything I needed to know about Pran because contrary to what a lot of others seem to have read from it, I just thought it showed his thoughtfulness and kindness? I imagine he must've been under a lot stress and feeling conflicted juggling not only his and Pat's happiness but also everyone else's. I think at the end of the day he just wants to keep the peace and keep everyone happy irregardless of his own wants and needs and I think that's both heartbreaking but also sweet. Or maybe I'm reading it wrong? I don't know.

maybe its kinda good that im lazy with replying to my anons bc reading this after ep 12 is quite interesting. i so agree with what you said anon. i havent exactly seen a lot of people misunderstanding pran but i definitely see how he could be misunderstood. and its not just in ep 11, its throughout the series, especially ep 6 onwards. even before then, you can see how pran's tendency to close off from pat, to put him at arms length and isolate himself from him affects pat. you see pat constantly constantly seeking pran's time and attention only to be shut out. pran cant consciously let himself be around pat. most of the scenes with them together pre-ep7 come about bc pat seeks pran out, and pran is only able to spend time with pat when he's not thinking, be it him getting swept up by pat's goofiness or arguing with him or doing something together, you see pran's brain switch off. he relaxes, goes with the flow, drops some of those boundaries as pat worms his way in before they rebuild themselves in full force and shove him out. and every encounter goes a little bit further, they get a little bit closer, a little bit more serious or honest, only for pran to catch himself and abort. and despite being in pran's pov, its not difficult to imagine how this hurts pat, especially in retrospect knowing what we know now about pat's loneliness and how he adversely responds to being called a jinx or a curse, how he hates carrying blame that he shouldn't have to but takes on anyway, the unconscious guilt bubbling underneath the surface and how that affects the way he is with pran.

(this is kinda off topic from the question but as i wrote that i realised i've never really considered the complexities of that before. how pat's guilt could make him feel so contentious about wanting to spend time with pran. bc he gravitates towards pran like nothing else, and yet doesn't realise his feelings for him until ep 5 when romance is directly brought up in his own life. so before that, was there an element of wanting to be around pran bc of his guilt?? bc he feels bad and therefore wants to repay him by doing these good things. we know what their real meaning are, but pat's guilt i similarly buried like his romantic feelings, and they unconciously affect his actions, so its not a stretch to say that his unaddressed guilt does too. but at the same time, he has to know that the reason he feels guilty, the reason why he hurt pran was bc he spent time with him. simply being around him put pran in trouble, so now, when he seeks out pran, i wonder does that make him feel uneasy. like how at odds must it make him feel knowing that he's caused pran trouble by being his friend, yet all he wants in the world is to be his friend. something he desires so fundamentally has been proven to be a bad thing, so how does he reconcile with that?? when he's been the one to make pran sad, how can he also go about wanting to be the person to make pran smile?? idk i just feel like there's real complexity to pat reconciling his guilt with wanting to be around pran, and for emotionally 'simple' pat, i feel like its a lot)

(also editing jess im putting a read more here purely so i dont clog ppls dashs with my messy rant but pls go on ahead)

but anyway back on topic, when pat recognises and vocalises his feelings in ep 5, the way pran's reflex to push pat away hurts pat is a lot more obvious, in that you come to realise that a level of hurt has been there all along but now, similarly to how he has identified his feelings, he's identified why that rejection hurts, and its brought to the surface for us to see. i said this before around when these eps were airing and i'll say it again, i love this about pran. i love that he has this flaw, that he selfishly disregards pat's feelings for his own safety, even tho it's not exactly a good safety, its more a fear of change and need to maintain peace and the status quo. and now in retrospect, i love even more how it reflects dissaya's handling of her situation with ming. bc just as she held onto her feelings of anger and need for revenge as a way to not address the hurt and betrayl, and subsequently passed that hurt onto other people, pran is doing exactly the same with pat. he's still struggling, but he's avoiding facing some difficult emotions, avoiding addressing the big elephant in the room so that he doesn't have to reconcile with it. and in the same way the hurt of dissaya is passed to pran, pran's hurt is passed to pat. he's made to feel uncomfortable and unhappy and just has to accept things are this way, go at pran's place, all so that pran doesn't have to face reality.

its honestly a great mirroring of mother and son, the difference being that pran is in this with pat. pran didn't stand up to his mother and make her face what she's doing, but pat does that with pran. he does so immediately and consistently and unforgivingly. he chases and pursues and tells him in no few words that he is struggling and he can't handle being in this emotional place pran has put him in. dissaya is allowed to live in her constructed safety but pran isn't, pat smashes down those walls and calls him out, won't let him stay in that unaffected, unfeeling bubble. and for him, its both out of selfishness for his own feelings but also bc he knows thats ultimately not a good place for pran to be. that remaining in perceived peace is only gonna be stagnant and dull and draining for pran. its only gonna limit him to the life he's already accepted. pat doesn't want that, he wants more, for both of them, so he seizes it.

again, that was a bit of a tangent, but getting finally to ep 11, i wanna take this chance to hone in on one of my favourite lines pran has ever said that i dont think i've really seen ppl talk about. its when he's talking to junior's mom and she says 'i even wanted to be a pirate. luckily my mom didn't allow it. otherwise i'd be throwing a net for a living'. and pran simply replies 'or you'd become a famous pirate'. i love this line more than i can say bc it says so much about pran as a person and his relationship with his mother. i remember using this phrase in a post before; pran is a dreamer forced to be a realist. you can see it in the things he's drawn to, music and design, he clearly has an artistic soul that must be very at odds with the person he’s been shaped to be, someone realistic thats constantly being made to face the facts of this world, and being told they’re unfair and unforgiving and hence he must work and fight and be successful to find his place, all things dissaya puts on him bc she went through something so unjust. and the thing is, i said something similar in some tags about pat yesterday that i’ll put here.

i see this for pran too, in that his mother has engrained a competitiveness and need for success into him that i think if she hadn’t, wouldn’t be absent from his personality. its just a part of him. and we can see that bc his eyes light up at any kind of challenge from pat even when it has no stakes, he just likes to compete, even more so now when its in such a happy and relaxed context. and we see it with him at uni. in ep 1, his mom isnt forcing him into anything, in fact they’re concerned he’s taking on too much responsibility with the class president role. but he does it anyway, much like he plays on the faculty rugby team, much like he takes on the bus stop project, much like he takes on a job for the play. i see people saying that many of these things were forced on him by wai and that kinda frames pran as someone that never had drive or a want to do stuff and succeed. people make out that his mom and wai expect him to be that person. but i dont see it that way. i see pran as someone who has a lot of drive, and has an innate desire for success in life, someone who wants to conquer and do stuff, live very involved and fully. i mean he goes abroad to work of his own volition for god sake, he has grand aims. and i love this about him bc it would’ve been so easy to have him be the shy boy with no friends. but he’s not. and he’s not dampened and depressed and weighed down by his unrequited crush either as would’ve been easy. he lives. even in high school he joins the band, and in uni he’s very involved with extra circular stuff. he’s clearly outgoing and personable. but there’s also been a very fine line he’s had to tread here, whereby he wants to be successful and good at things and so does his mom, but his mom also doesn’t want him to have high hopes or spend time investing in something that isnt a sure thing, like music (but also i think she takes that away from him bc its something that tethers him to pat), so he has to reconcile his desire for success while still quashing his dreams. he can want big things but only if they’re the right big things. he can dream big but not too big. 

idk again i feel like there’s a lot of complexity there. so when pran says ‘you could’ve been a famous pirate’, its saying a lot. its saying that your parents dont always know whats best, that there’s something limiting in never trying to reach for your dream bc you’ll never know if it was actually possible to accomplish, that its redundant to ask children to have dreams and aspirations when later down the road they’ll only be seen as stupid and childish. pran says he wants to be a musician, and i could’ve seen this being something he actively pursued more than architecture. and its not a lie that he enjoys what he studies too, its not that his job now is unfulfilling, its just that, given the chance, he could’ve tried, but his mother never let him. music became off limits and now he’ll never know if he could’ve ‘become a famous pirate’. but still, that doesn’t stop him from playing for himself, and for pat, and finding joy in it. his love for music never dulled. bc some kids have dreams that aren’t stupid even if you think they are. some kids have big aspirations not out of childish innocence to how difficult the world is, but bc of innate passion that outlives innocence, and stays a passion even when they know its hard. some things stick, and pran might not be a famous pirate, but he can still play pirates with pat and have fun as if they were kids all over again. 

(side note but this is one of my tiny gripes with the show. not a criticism bc i understand why its the way it is, but i would’ve loved to have known what pat would’ve been interested in, studied, done as a job if it wasn’t for his father. i feel like dissaya was a lot more relaxed in this sense, as in pran didnt need to take after her, she just wanted him to be successful and choose a path that was a sure thing, that was safe and reliable career wise, and as long as he succeeded in that it was ok. but ming clearly wants pat to follow in his footsteps. they play the same sport, study the same major, do the same job. its a path predetermined for him since birth. pran was both given more space interest wise but also i feel saw that his mother wasnt always right a lot earlier, and that enabled him to explore his passions. pat tho, he was set from an early age, and made to idolise his father such that he never entertained anything outside of what he was prescribed. he never thought about what he liked to do or what he was interested in bc it was all set for him. so i’d love to know what, given the freedom, he’d find his passion to be (possible s2 plotline anyone??))

im sorry so much of this is off question but im kinda rambling and going with the flow here, i just have a lot of thoughts. and in regards to that aside about pat and his own dreams, i think that plays in to how things go down in ep 11. bc the only way pat has defied his father is by being with pran, everything else is what his father wants. pran on the other hand wants to and has before defied his mother in multiple ways ie with music. and what i said about him having more freedom in regards to his life choices, he has a much larger world view than pat bc he’s been able to construct more of it himself. even without pat in it, pran still has other things he loves and cares about, namely family, career and passions. pat has not been allowed to find any of his own passions, isnt allowed to forge his own career and his connection to his family has just been broken. he has pa and his mom, and his friends, but they’re all so closely linked to his father and the life that hes set out for him that by severing the connection he had with his father, all those other things are too difficult to think about. so his world view is tiny, his world view is just pran. thats why he wants to run away for good, thats why he entertains that idea, bc in the height of his emotions he doesnt think he has anything he wants to go back to. hes completely happy with starting fresh and living a simple life here. pran isnt. pran’s relationship with his mother has not been completely broken, he still empathises with her as a victim. and he has all his own goals, goals that cant be realised by running away and living here with pat. 

and also ever the realist, he knows its not possible logistically. fairy tales aren’t realistic. they’d have to work their asses off and wouldnt have any of the comforts and amenities theyre used to in their middle class city lives. the days would be repetitive and mundane and the novelty of being able to be together would slowly wear off and they’d just feel stuck. pran would always be quashed and limited in this life. and its not selfish of him to want more, and its not weak of him to want to return, and it doesnt mean his love for pat is any less. he just sees the bigger picture where pat’s anger has given him absolute tunnel vision. and as you said, pran is more predisposed to be kind to his mother bc she was wronged. despite her poor handling of her pain, he still cares for her and empathises with her being hurt, and so wants to be caring, worries about her, wants to make sure she’s ok. pran has had a lot more time to sit with the knowledge that his parents arent always right so he isn’t charged with anger and a want to rebel. maybe he was once, but he’s had those feelings long enough for them to soften. what he is feeling for the first time is all the empathy for his mother’s hurt, thats whats fresh and new, so thats what he feels more strongly vs pat’s newly unleashed anger and disappointment. 

the only thing i’d slightly disagree with is pran keeping the peace irregardless of his own wants and needs. maybe he did in earlier episodes, but now i think knowing how they dealt with things in ep 12, it shows he’s more concerned with keeping a veneer and facade of peace while still getting what he wants. he’s found a middle ground where he can have it all in measured amounts instead of going all in on one thing. he gets the career, he gets music, he gets family, he gets pat. he’s decided that for him, having all the things he wants is better than only having one thing he wants in the exact way he wants it. the career might not be his dream, music is still something he keeps private, he still has to lie to his parents and he still has to keep his relationship with pat a secret. none of these are ideal, but for a lot of people having it all is better than having it perfect. and in fact, learning to find happiness through non-ideal situations has given him better results than having one thing fully and having happiness the way he wants but only in that limited aspect. no matter what, there’s always gonna be what ifs, there’s always gonna be if onlys, but one thing that no one can take away from pran now is his ability to decide for himself. he plots his own path and finds happiness in it. his life is no longer being lead, he’s leading it. and he chooses to lead it by being the kindest he can to everyone, bc thats the pran i know and love. the one that cares with actions more than words, and will always look for the good in people. thats why i love him.

(sorry i wrote a whole ass essay anon. you said you enjoyed my takes on pran so heres a whole ass heap of them. i clearly have a lot of untapped feelings about these boys still and as soon as im given a question and a vessel through which to unleash all my thoughts, i just cant stop. so yeah, ugh, hope you enjoy this mess)

[lovestrucklosers]

― qingxin flower crowns.

summary: xiao has always been a tool, a weapon. but not to you. never to you.

words: 589

warnings: not edited. reader is not traveler/regular human. soft (ooc?) xiao because he deserves happiness.

happy birthday xiao i love you with my entire heart <3 you deserve the world and i wrote this just because of that

xiao is not sure of the last time he was able to rest easy. 

for as long as he can remember, he’s been a weapon. simply just a tool for protecting the innocent people of all of liyue. even during major festivals and events, he’s merely in the background, slaying demons and garnering more karmic debt for the sake of liyue. he’s never been afforded the luxury of “resting easy”.

that is, not until you came along.

you’ve attached yourself to him at the hip (at his slight reluctance) and refused to let him go, no matter how curt he was with you. even as he stands on the wangshu inn’s highest balcony with the wind brushing against him, he can’t seem to get you out of his mind.

“xiao!” 

he hears your call, swiftly leaping off the inn’s railing to teleport to your location. he stands protectively with his polearm only to be met with the soft orange and purple hues of the sunset over liyue. where..? he glances around, meeting your excitement-filled eyes, and noticing the fluffy blanket nearby topped with a large wicker picnic basket. 

the black-haired male allows himself to be disarmed as turns his attention to you once more, watching as you sit down on a blanket closer to the cliff.

“what are you doing here?” he moves to stand beside you. you merely smile up at him and gently take his gloved hand in yours, guiding him to sit cross-legged beside you. he quirks an eyebrow up at your antics, but continues to let you do as you please. 

the soft breeze fills the comfortable silence between you two. he watches you unpack the wicker basket, placing various items on the blanket (notably) including a large bundle of qingxins, two bowls of almond tofu and the appropriate cutlery, and a small hand-made bracelet. you hand him a single bowl with a grin. he takes it, albeit with a small amount of confusion, and sets it in front of him. a couple of beats pass before you speak.

“you can eat it, xiao!” you laugh, “i prepared it just for you! ..or do you want me to feed you?”

he begins to dig into the dish. the sight makes you laugh again.

while eating, he keeps his eyes on you. you’ve placed your own dish aside and carefully undo the band holding the bundle of flowers together. next, you begin to weave the flowers together. by the time he looks away once he hears a rustle nearby, he freezes as he feels something gently placed on his head. 

he locks eyes with you, reaching up to touch the crown of flowers you’ve just placed upon your head.

“happy birthday, xiao,” you murmur, cupping his face. he’s surprised, and lets a few seconds pass before he leans into your warm touch. 

“so that’s what all this was for..” he lets his eyes flutter shut. 

“mhm,” your lovely voice flows through his ears like music, “i found out from zhongli yesterday, so all of this was on short notice.. hmph, you should’ve told me earlier so i could’ve prepared something better than this.” 

your hands leave his face and he grumbles, opening his eyes just in time to see you slip the hand-made bracelet onto his wrist. he stares at it with a wondrous glint in his eyes. 

he softly smiles, shuffling closer to you, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. 

“i think.. that it’s perfect,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again. “thank you.” 

a/n: wowowowow first genshin post and its xiao. im so happy its xiao bc i love him sm <3 anyways did you guys see his birthday art............ going to cry over it and his letter brb

also sorry for the lackluster banner i wanted something pretty but............. i got lazy so official art it is <3 ALSO ALSO IDK HOW TO END A STORY SO YEADGJHDGJHDG im gonna go play genshin and look at xiao. maybe give him a proper build and do stuff for him bc he deserves it and also i need to give him a better build </3

[probably-haven]

after binge reading i have come to a new revelation: I’m not a fan of most Xiaoven fanfics

Don’t get me wrong, I love the ship and its one of my favorite to think about.... but most of the fanfiction for the ship just- doesn’t sit right with me for a number of reasons. 

Disclaimer: these are personal opinions from my own taste and are in no way an attack against any authors out there, because frankly fanfic authors are great and not like i could do better lol. As these are personal opinions, I acknowledge here and now that a number of people disagree and that they are under no obligation to change their opinions in any way as it is not and never will be my intention to tell others what they should be thinking That said- read at your own risk if you want- meh, anyway-

time to share some opinions that have been on my mind lately

The biggest reason.... is how they handle Xiao. And I don’t even mean mischaracterization because Xiao is such a complex and yet simultaneously simple character that as long as you’re somewhere in the range of “Xiao vibes” it’s really hard to write him out of character because of his complexities. What I mean is something that i actually completely agree with as being accurate to his character. In nearly every single fanfic I’ve seen, there is some element of idolization that Xiao has for Venti, or for the sake of reference, Barbatos. He tends to think himself beneath Barbatos and/or indebted to him, whether that be because he’s an archon, because he saved him, or simply because of Xiao’s tendency to dehumanize(yes i see the irony in that word usage) himself.  This by itself isn’t an issue but its often how this trait of his is treated.

Imma just list a few ways I’ve seen this be handled within Xiaoven fics. - It isn’t handled, it’s just there and accepted as a part of who he is in the story - It isn’t handled but his trait is treated as source of humor within the story - Venti(and others) roll with it (finding humor in it, just cant change it, encouraging it, making jokes about it, etc.) - Venti takes advantage of it(whether accidentally or purposely) - it’s actually addressed(by Venti or someone else or the narration- can go a number of ways, but just- even a brief reference to the fact that its not a good mindset fits in here) - savior!Venti(Where venti disagrees with it but the way it’s written gives off “god among mortals” vibes- like he’s just being humble and truly is above him in reality) - its the focus of the story  - not directly addressed but shown to be destructive.  - they chose not to not include this in the story’s characterization of Xiao(just saying that this is valid ahead of time) Theres others but i have a lot already.  Note that I tend to read more ‘serious-toned’(idk if that makes sense) fics so that may skew my perception

Now there’s a few that i have issues with on their own- both instances of it not being handled, Venti(and others) rolling with it, Venti takes advantage of it(purposely(and without good intent)), and savior!Venti. Xiao not only has this trait, but he is unfamiliar with what is normal in relationships or emotions as a result of isolation and inexperience. He is also either not aware of or not concerned with what is considered strictly “healthy.” Combining these makes for a rather dangerous combination and just accepting it as “oh he’s just like that, it’s who he is” or making it out to be something funny- It’s not wrong or bad by any means necessarily, and I could still possibly enjoy it to an extent depending on a series of different factors, but its- not as often.  Even in the case where I do enjoy reading it however, I would still feel uncomfortable sharing it with or recommending it to others because in the first instance it feels like normalizing a destructive and dangerous mindset, and in the second case it does the same while simultaneously making a joke of it. It’s the same deal with Venti or other characters rolling with it, but that’s probably gonna be mentioned later too. Not to say that this is a “wrong” way to handle it, that it makes the fic bad, or that authors even are normalizing anything by doing so, just that in my specific instance- not a fan. 

I’ll get to the others when i talk more about Venti, but for now: It’s the focus of the story. I think I saw like... 2? where the story was like- focused on this and why its a problem which- power to them, address those real world problems like a boss- but also i wouldn’t actively seek it out or anything- like, good job, but doing so just leaves it open neutrally for other factors to decide how good a story i think it is. 

not directly addressed but shown to be destructive. You’d think i wouldn’t like this- but frankly in fanfiction not everyone wants to address every character flaw verbally because it can through off story, narration, dialogue, and general flow to do so. This can be with an event, an action, a dialogue, a mere comment, making it actually fit into the it’s actually addressed category except that its- subtle enough to make its own category. plus i live for show not tell- in everything- its a thing. im- very much a fan of when the fics do this but the subtlety is easy to miss and its not common so- 

It’s actually adressed- doesnt have to be a lot- just mention anywhere or imply anywhere that maybe idolizing someone as a god and savior and being in a relationship with them while having little knowledge of standards, emotions, relationships, or healthy behaviors in general- maybe isnt the smartest idea in the word. (”Call me Venti, not Barbatos” by itself is not enough to fit in this category tho as a note)

-

Now lets talk about Venti...

uh.... those who have followed me for awhile will probably already know this but... I have a lot of opinions on Venti and a pretty- “niche(?)” perception of his characterization that isn’t shared by a lot of others- so I don’t actually read as much Venti fanfic in general as you might expect because I often end up disagreeing with how writers portray him, which again, in no way is their characterization wrong, but- “their perceived truth” conflicts with “my perceived truth” and by extent so does the characterization, though neither is any more correct than the other from an objective point of view, if that makes sense... but anyways now that that’s said, moving on before this becomes a philosophy lecture, as fun as that would be for me.  I’ll try to keep my “perceived truth” out of this for the first bit. 

Venti’s response to this: 

He rolls with it: this depends on the mood of the fanfiction. If they dont put a lot of stress on that trait of Xiao’s it totally fine but if the trait seems to be a major part of Xiao’s character, it seems like normalization once more. (more on this later)

he takes advantage of it purposely: if its an AU or something and Venti’s like a villain(i saw a few) then- villain venti isnt my cup of tea but i have no qualms. If they don’t portray Venti in a negative light while having him take advantage however that’s a bit uncomfortable to read for me because it feels like normalizing taking advantage of that mindset as well as the mindset itself. However, i did see a number of instances of Venti using it as leverage for like- self care- which i definitely have no qualms. Xiao: [insert probably destructive idolizing statement about being indebt] Venti: How bout you pay me back by actually sleeping for once smh or other variations are okay and depending on the vibe are actually a really fun dynamic as long as it doesnt turn into romanticizing or normalizing it, y’know?

Venti accidentally taking advantage of it.... I love angst- and in most of these theres a sense of guilt when he realizes- and i just think thats a lovely way of addressing the dangers of such a mindset for both sides. As long as it doesn’t keep repeating to the point of romanticization its totally cool to read in my eyes(not irl ofc). If Venti never realizes he accidentally took or is taking advantage it feels a bit like normalization, and if he does but just- doesn’t care thats- a rip.

savior!Venti...... i- i hate. the story giving off vibes that Xiao’s mindset is technically correct while Venti oh so humbly tells him to treat him as an equal like the wonderful and charitable person he is.... i just- no. of course thats over dramatizing it- I think the main thing that gives it this vibe is when Venti doesn’t seem either concerned, surprised, uncomfortable, or otherwise have a negative feeling towards Xiao’s mindset. Just- it makes the whole thing weird in my eyes when Venti doesnt really seem to have his own reason to oppose the mindset idk- 

-

fact time!

Venti is the god of freedom. His backstory is freeing Mondstadt from a god’s tyrannical reign. His origin is a windsprite, just another breeze bringing changes for the better. His form is a nameless boy who played an instrument and then died, thus failing at his only dream and only ever accomplishing anything because of the help of others. He slept for a thousand years after the archon war to avoid putting Mond under the rule of yet another tyrannical god. He only even became a god because Andrius chose to let him. He wouldn’t have even had that chance if the nameless bard had survived, he’d remain just another wind while his friend ascended to godhood. Venti sacrifices his own power for his people’s freedom. 

now that I’ve laid out a number of canon facts, time for opinions:

Venti has little to no desire to be seen as a god. He thrives in, comes from, and emphasizes a lack of superiority in quite nearly everything. The first Ragnvindir, who canonically turned his back on Venti after Decarabian’s fall, likely did so because one- he anticipated power would corrupt and Venti would soon become just another tyrannical god, two- he suspected Venti used the nameless bard in an attempt to rise to godhood, or three- idk insert other possibilities to acknowledge again that i could totally be wrong.

Look me in the eyes and tell me Venti wouldnt trade godhood for his friend in an instant. His godhood was only granted to him because his friend died and could easily serve to constantly remind him of what could have been and what he lost. Venti takes no enjoyment from being seen as superior and in my opinion, I feel that it could actually make him largely uncomfortable when his divinity and abilities as an archon get involved-

also self promotion for my favorite posts- check out #archon war era venti if thats interesting to you

so anyway Venti rolling with it or making jokes about it just doesn’t sit right with me.- 

-

Okay! enough talking about that mindset!

idk- i have... a few/lot of other gripes and stuff or just things that kinda throw off the vibe for me but that’s the main one plus my general personal pickiness when it come to Venti fanfics- but this has gotten long enough already- 

idk i just felt like rambling about it and i haven’t done a long post in a while so-

again, I love the ship and its actually one of my favorites- just the fanfic isnt my thing..... that doesn’t mean i don’t still love it and come up with a whole ton of brainrot and ideas on it tho lmao

[wh6res]

sedan | jaemin

—part 2

synopsis. it was only a matter of time until he snapped. he was right, you should've seen it coming.

warnings. noncon, swearing, yandere themes, there’s a knife lmao

note. yalls idk :( it keeps deleting paragraphs when i add a readmore wtf is this sorcery IM SO SORRY

[read part 1]

apparently, your captor had enough respect for your dignity not to take you in the backseat of his old sedan. saying something along the lines of how you had completely ruined the mood by how much you were crying underneath him. “it’s not even pretty crying!” jaemin had exclaimed, hauling you up to your feet and carrying you bridal style towards the house. 

respect? pft. he has long passed the line of respecting your dignity—the moment he forced that drug into your system and shoved you inside his car, he was a goner. 

you don’t bother thrashing against his arms, having thought better. with your wrists and knees duct-taped together, running seemed like a joke. instead, you stare longingly at the outside world over jaemin’s shoulder—it definitely isn’t the last time you’ll see it, but if you were here because of his fucked up possessiveness over you, then escaping will be a challenge. 

three months of working alongside jaemin is enough for you to know how thorough he can be. he’s quite the perfectionist, and you remember admiring his keen attention to detail but now you only fear for the things he has in store for you to make sure you’ll never leave his side. it was due to this train of thought that you involuntarily start shaking against him. the automated lock in the front door beeps into place and now you were stuck here with him, once and for all. 

before you are able to take a look around the house, scoping enemy territory, a hand comes up to cover your eyes. the moment your fingers wrap around his wrist to pry it away, he hisses, and you let go immediately. 

“stay still or else,” you obliged, scared of what he can do now that he has you all to himself inside the house. “i know what you’re thinking. still so fucking predictable. you’d have to earn my trust until i let you roam around here.”

the loud clicks of your restraints locking together prove that he is a man of his word. 

the basement he keeps you in is disgusting. the tiles beneath you are cold, a few leaking pipes in the corner, dust everywhere, and a tiny window across the room—you doubt your chains can reach that far. but what captured your eyes the most is the numerous pillows stuck onto the walls and ceiling. the colors of its casings are faded, none of them matching one another at all. it was as if everything was messily put together at the last minute and you almost feel a tiny bit of relief that maybe, jaemin isn’t as thorough as you thought he’d be. 

“i soundproofed the walls and everything, isn’t that romantic?”

you don’t answer, too caught up thinking about how you’ll stay warm that you don’t notice the way his eyes trail over your shaking figure, knees tucked under your chin, pressing yourself firmly against the wall to appear smaller. to create as much distance from him as possible. 

jaemin frowns in distaste, a low hum resounding in the back of his throat as he thought; no, this won’t do.

“are you cold?” he asks. 

once again, he’s met with silence. 

if there is one thing jaemin absolutely hates with a passion, it was being ignored. the feeling is so foreign to him. maybe it was because of how much he naturally expects to bear the spotlight, that when you refused to even slightly acknowledge him as anything, he was confused. fascinated but frustrated at the same time. 

it is the same frustration he felt when you turned him down. the same frustration he felt when you fought against him. the same frustration he felt when you don’t stop crying underneath him. the same frustration he felt right at this very fucking moment.

“i don’t think ignoring me will do you good, sweetheart. i asked you a question, didn’t i? i’ll say it again, one last time,” the edge in his voice is unmistakable. “are you cold or not?”

at this point, jaemin feels stupid for even thinking about granting you the slightest bit of leniency by leaving you alone tonight. jaemin had been willing to put aside his desires and wants for you. but his patience can only stretch so far until it comes snapping back. 

and boy, were you in for it. 

he utters your name, low and threatening and you just knew what it meant. as the victim, it should’ve been in your best interest to keep your captor from losing his shit and hurting you… and yet, you remain silent. you don’t know what’s gotten into you. the words are right at the tip of your tongue but you don’t say anything. it was as if time had stopped and your brain had short-circuited, making you forget how to speak. 

when he stood up from the stool and started stalking towards you, you knew it was too late. 

“jaemin…” your voice shakes. “jaem—yes, yes—i feel—i feel cold—”

the sting on your right cheek is the only thing to register in your mind for a few good seconds until it all clicks into place. he just backhanded you. 

“i never thought you’d be such a fucking bitch,” he hisses, pulling at your restraints. “you were so silent, i thought you went mute, baby. how can you treat me like that? it’s no way to treat your lover.”

his soft tone catches you off guard for a fraction of a second. it was the same way he spoke to you before… all of this. it was the same tone that had once lulled you into a sense of security when you were stuck in a new environment, scared, making mistakes left and right, but jaemin had proved he can be someone you can depend on.

and look at what that cost you.

jaemin’s eye twitched when he noticed the slightly dazed look on your face, eagerly slotting himself between your thighs before holding your legs down with his shins. his hands dart out, grabbing your jaw in one hand before placing the other snug around your neck. the man can feel the rush of his blood flowing through his veins, ears ringing as he admires how pretty you were underneath him—pretty and helpless.

with a sudden urge, he darts his head forward to take a long whiff of your hair, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. he barely even registers the tears wetting the hand holding your face. jaemin is too far gone in his head because finally, fucking finally, he has you right where he wants you and absolutely no one can steal you away from him anymore.

meanwhile, you try hard to push him off of you but the pressure he’s applying to your legs proves too much. the hand encased around your throat pulls away and your happiness was short-lived as jaemin reaches for something above your head. it glints against the sole fluorescent light in the basement—

you freeze at the sight of his pocket knife.

he laughs, sounding too sweet and lighthearted. “now, now. i won’t hurt you…” 

you hold your breath when he drags the knife across your body. from your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts, and finally settling at the bottom of your shirt. “i won't hurt you if you don’t move around too much.”

the sound of fabric ripping against the sharp blade made you want to thrash as hard as you can but jaemin had purposely angled the knife so the tip dragged against the surface of your skin. bile rises up your throat when you notice the way he eyes every inch of your torso as its slowly revealed to him. 

“see, i know you’re a good girl. i just have to force it out of you sometimes, huh?” he mocks, quickly hooking the knife under your bra so he needn’t struggle reaching for the hook in the back. 

his reaction is immediate the moment he sees you bare before him. he doesn’t even grant you the chance of hiding when he’s managed to hold your wrists in one hand, the knife clattering loudly on the floor as he surged forward, lips latching onto one of your breasts as his free hand feels the other one up. you turn your head to the side, not wanting to see his ministrations. until one particularly hard nip makes you yelp, his teeth latching painfully against a nipple before glaring at you through his eyelashes. 

“eyes on me.”

jaemin can’t have you turning away from him. it simply looks like another act of defiance, as if you were depriving him of the expressions of pleasure found in your face as he continues to lick and suckle at the skin of your breasts, purple and red blooming on your skin. 

when jaemin retracts from you to pull his shirt over his head, you made the last feeble attempt of trying to escape him. you’re able to free one of your legs from underneath him and have successfully delivered a kick to the groin. jaemin folds in pain. you managed to flip onto your stomach, dragging your body away with just your arms. you’ve only managed a few inches, chains rattling aggressively, when you felt his nails dig into the back of your thighs. 

“fuck,” he grunts. “you’re going to fucking pay for that, pretty thing.”

he turns you around with one hand, unfazed by the pitiful look of your tears and snot cascading down your face as he looms over you, his knife in one hand as he fists your hair. 

you shook violently as you brace your hands against his bare chest. jaemin would’ve revelled at the feeling of you touching him if you hadn’t kicked him in the balls only seconds ago. 

“jaemin, please… i don’t want any of this—”

“you’re so cute, begging like anything could get you out of this.”

you flinch, eyes shutting closing on instinct. you feel something sharp poking on your neck, and it only takes you a fraction of a minute to register that jaemin is now holding his knife against your throat. digging the blade enough for you to know it’s there but not hard enough to draw blood. 

“look how much you’re shaking, baby,” he coos, the tightness in his pants becoming unbearable as he gives you a one over. “such a sheltered kid, aren’t you? no wonder you’re so fucking naive, always making mistakes. always making the wrong judgement. you’re used to depending on someone, right? well…” 

jaemin slices the skin above your collarbone. you don’t scream, the fear of him slicing your throat all together lies heavy in the air. 

“…it’s a good thing you met me, huh?”

fuck you.

“i’m here, baby. you can depend on me all you want,” the giddiness and the sudden spark in his eyes make you dread what he’ll do next—you hear the sounds of a belt unbuckling. “i’ll bathe you, i’ll feed you, dress you up, but…”

there are no tears left when you feel his fingers pulling your shorts down together with your underwear. no tears left when you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. 

“…you’ll have to give me something in return. that’s what good girls do, right?”

you screamed.

[musherum]

For the ask meme: primes?

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

i dont really know if i have one anymore. sometimes, when im upset, i'll imagine kim kitsuragi from disco elysium shit-talking people im mad at, or him telling me that im doing okay. but i dont know if that really counts?

i used to have lots. but ive mostly moved out of that stage in my life. idk, i guess it felt in a way slightly infantile, and not like a great way to engage in media - and also like it was kind of a flattening of myself, if that makes any sense.

2. lighter or matches?

matches are soooo tantalizing. i love striking a match. but they disappear so quick! so i prefer a lighter, generally. the flint mechanism is also fun to play with, though i understand that is pretty unsafe to do.

3. do you leave the window open at night?

yes, usually. i like to keep fresh air flowing in, to keep myself from overheating or starting to wheeze. and i get to hear the crickets :)

5. what color are your eyes?

a fairly unremarkable blue. looking into them sometimes reminds me of looking down through the water at the beach, into the sand. but mostly they are fairly poetically uninteresting.

7. hair-ties or scrunchies?

hair-ties, usually. scrunchies are fun and cute, but i usually put my hair back for utility, and not for fashion or to look cute - i dont have a good relationship to the shape of my forehead and brow, or my jaw or chin, so if im trying to look nice ill generally leave my hair down. so cute scrunchies arent really something ive invested in.

11. favorite extracurricular activity?

i dont think i did many extracurriculars as a kid. i was in cross-country for a bit. i liked it okay, i liked going fast. but my asthma got too bad, and i started collapsing and not being able to finish races.

i was in a writing workshop in middle school, but honestly despite me always getting good grades in english, and despite me always being my english teachers favorite, i simply was not and am not a very good writer, at least not of fiction. idk, maybe i just need to practice more and stop judging everything i make like its the thing that will make or break my worth as a person. either way, i didnt attend the workshop for long, because of life-ruining depression

13. when was the last time you ate?

a few hours ago? my sister was over to do laundry, and i defrosted the veggie shepherds pie filling i had in the freezer, and made us both little shepherds pies in some ramekins.

it was pretty okay. i mixed the mash with some goat cheddar because i was out of parmesan, and it turned out nice. browned well, light and puffy. the filling was missing something. maybe it just needed some acid or something. idk

17. are you farsighted or nearsighted?

im nearsighted. thats one of the biggest reasons i dont wear my glasses very often - keeping them on, when im doing tasks that involve my face being just a few feet away from my point of focus? gives me a headache.

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

i could try? im not very good at it though :( i cant even paint my own nails without making a mess of it.

23. how do you feel about chilly weather?

already answered!

29. how do you like your shower water?

depends on the weather, and what would feel most refreshing. in the summer, i usually let my shower water run slightly cooler. but then again - after a hard day, when im full of aches and pains, nothing hits better than hot, hot water pouring down on me. so i guess it depends on the weather and how tiring my day has been.

31. what type of music keeps you grounded?

i usually listen to more energetic electronic music, but when i need to ground myself or bring myself back from the brink, i usually lean towards something slower and singable and maybe a little bit sad or morbid. half the time i wont even listen to it - ill just sort of wail along to it.

37. someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

this is a tough one. aside from some family friends?? ummm. drawing a blank here, i stopped communicating with a lot of other people from earlier in my life a long time ago. the closest thing i can think of would maybe be a couple of tumblr mutuals? and even then, theyre maybe, like, 8 or 9 years, tops.

41. how do you take your coffee?

already answered!

43. what’s your take on spicy foods?

already answered!

47. what was the last message you sent?

i asked my youngest sister if she was coming over tonight to do laundry, and if she wanted me to make her something to eat.

thank you for the questions :)

[rosewinelonging]

mm thinkin bout projohn. i know its not ur cup of tea but its just fun to think about, sburb is the thing that matures john- much too fast and when he wasnt at an age ready for it. it was a force of nature, something he could not at all understand or ask questions about beyond what he was told.

bro gives him the same maturity, but with a layer of humanity. john is a lot more like jane than anyone recognizes, he puts a wall between himself and what greatly effects him- he just doesnt break it like jane does.

with bro, john gets that humanity- though also cruel and harsh john knows its a purrson, and can accept what is given much easier,

bro is a systematic purrson, he keeps everything in a specific corner of his mind and refuses to let it down- like dirk. but john as a breath player, changes the flow of things. bro never wants to settle down, he wants to keep going and with someone who both goes with and changes the flow at will- it puts that control in jeopardy- possibly relating to a... ehem "dominance issue" that puts him both in control and out of it. johns no pushover, he wants what's right and he will scheme to get it. bro- even as a aplinter of dirk- misjudges such action.

anyeewayz sorry for the ramble and thanks 4 ur thyme, '^u^

mannn i like brojohn i think ive made a few posts abt them but yea i dont talk as much since i wasnt sure if my followers liked it lol

BUT YES!!! holy shit anon i loveeee thinking abt things like this and doin all analysis like with dynamics and god u hit every mark

honestly ive been thinkin abt john a lot these past couple days. hes a passive player who causes so much change even to those who dont realize it. he goes alongs with things bc he doesnt have the time to think abt stuff and bc of this his outward expression to ppl is. hes easy! hes simple and he listens bc thats whats expected of him, he doesnt have the chance to say no to anything though thats not the reality

as an heir of breath, freedom is his whole deal. he naturally falls into the into the inability to be tied down and in the future as things progress AFTER he begins to process things is when he starts doing things his way, a surprise to people around him who thought him simply passive [ie. refusing to give vriska the ring, beating caliborn up, etc etc]

and combined with the fact of, as you said, the wall of forced repression it very much leads a lot of people, specifically people who pride themselves on 'manipulation' or just crave dominance by understanding others, to misunderstand him severely. which is very VERY good. its such a thing i love with characters and the dynamic possibilities are endless

which is why i rlly like john paired with characters like bro [or even vriska, condy, etc THOSE types of characters] cause you get that misunderstanding and struggle of power. and yes he would misjudge johns actions or intentions which honestly can be funny as fuck

im less confident abt my uhhh perception? i guess of. all striders really i have a version in my mind but idk how close to canon it really is but for me i see bro as a more extreme version of dirk. he would set everything up in his head and it WILL go the way he thinks it will. views the world as more um i guess the best way to explain is in boxes. everything has a set purpose and he compartmentalizes things so it all works in a well oiled machine

so when it comes to john- they would meet, forces him into maturity in anyway you can imagine, and of course this isnt some mystical force from the universe. its a person which WOULD make things easier to understand leading to less passivity once he gets his thoughts together. OR you could say bro had already formed an opinion on john by observing his actions with say like dave! or possibly even rose since she the one he listens to most w/o question

either way it comes to a point that john is likely to fight back or act in a way that goes against the predetermined expectations. john would let him do whatever he wants before suddenly turning around and deciding. he doesnt want to do something and so he simply will not. its a complete toss up that will leave bro stumbling

of course at this point i want to point out that this is what makes dirkjohn fundamentally different from brojohn. dirk and john are on pretty equal footing bc of age which makes the expected power struggle an either-or situation where it could go both ways

while bro has a much larger advantage bc of age [assuming john is 13 - 16] and general appearance [sorry. short john propaganda i cant see him as anything over 5'5 lol]

so naturally bro would still get that control but it means nothing with the fundamental misunderstanding of john. its like he would take simple actions to the extreme [believing he has planned things out when it was really spur of the moment] or any scheming he does as not planned bc he wouldnt get WHY he would that and bc he doesnt understand why he would do something it means he wouldnt have done it

but yea anon you managed to hit exactly why i like thinking abt them. i love love love the idea of their relationship being built on bro just. not understanding how john works. which i explore a lot in royalty au's lol its fun to do court scheming and political drama

bros playing 3d chess while johns playing checkers

ummmm so yea! i like john a whole lot hes one of my favorites to think abt an brojohn less bc of the ship an more bc of that specific flavor i get from it

WAIT! ok before i forget. the only thing ive really been thinking abt these past couple days is john with women vs john with men. essentially boils down to if a woman asked he would be on his knees in an instant. you say jump he asks how high etc etc hed act out enough to get attention but not really to destablize the power dynamic

but he just absolutely refuses to willingly sub for a man. or if he does it doesnt end like he wants it to. so the only way to get him to submit is by harsh force and even then hes a brat till the end. takes pleasure in making bros life just that much harder

ok anyway back to ending notes. yea i like them! i like pretty much any m/m ship as long as johns in it LOL like if youre worried abt me not bein into something remember this:

any girl with any other girl? yes. im literally in the middle of making a doc of every dynamic between all human and troll girls whether they have a canon one or not

any girl with any guy? this is a toss up. if i like / post a lot abt the girl in the ship then yea id prob like it. i dont mind any of the human guys. i dont care for any of the troll guys. well. i like eridan most times, hes fun and im an aquarius and tavros in certain moods.

any guy with any guy? if one of them is john the answer is probably yes. hes my little darling and he surpasses gender. my Only issue with june is that i dont like the name change bc i cant get used to it lol but basically theres no difference in my mind with them when it comes to gender fuckery. an also i switch genitals based on mood so i guess thats something but yea i love him lots esp when it comes to stuff like this where u analyze his character <3

despite my content. i Would say that john is my unanimous favorite character

ALSO im literally writing a long fic where brojohn is the main focus lol well that and davejohn but he literally only gets sex scenes w bro sooooo

but yea go ahead an ramble in my askbox i rlly enjoy it cause i get to ramble back <33

[maysbanks]

are you bored yet. (jj maybank)

hey everyone ! basically this is my first time writing for jj, or anyone from obx in general. this is a side acc from my main acc that i made purely bc this fic idea came to me when watching obx and after listening to the wallows on repeat for weeks. idk i just thought the song was kinda fitting for jj, and im a sucker for soft ! jj with a friends to lovers arc, so here this is. it's quite a long one btw, the words just kept flowing so i apologise in advance. also i have a few more fic ideas based off some songs so if you like this and are interested in more pls let me know ! im probably gonna be writing a lot more for this boy bc i adore him. anyways i hope u enjoy !

warnings: features swearing, mention of sex, underage drinking, drug use and violence.

summary: based lightly off the song 'are you bored yet?' by the wallows ft clairo, reader and jj delve deeper into their relationship, taking the steps further into becoming something more than best friends. however worries and doubts begin to plague their minds, as they fear their relationship of becoming just a memory.

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

"What are you doing later?" You looked towards Kie who'd directed the question towards you, her eyes squinting from the sun that was grinning down at your forms from where you were both seated on the sand.

"Dunno," you shrugged your shoulders. "Probably hanging out with J or something."

Kiara scoffed, a mocking look taking over the features of her face as her head turned towards yours, your eyebrows raising at the sly smirk on her lips. "What?" You questioned, narrowing your eyes when all she did was laugh. You shifted in your place, body moving from laying on your back to on your stomach, figuring it was about time to switch positions for your tan anyway. "Seriously Kie, what're you laughing about?"

She shifted along with you, only laying on her right side so she could face you head on, her hand propping her head up from the ground. She was still grinning. "JJ," she said simply. You raised your eyebrows at her once more, seemingly not understanding what she was trying to get at. "What's going on with you two?" Kie pushed on when you didn't respond, her own eyebrows inching further up her forehead.

In the distance you could hear the boys' screams, their commotion coming from the water you had passed on entering. You could hear JJ taunting John B from where you lay, Pope laughing along, and the splashes that you could only assume were also coming from them. You never spared them a glance, though from the corner of your eye could see their figures and indeed the loud splashes of water were coming from them, and you were certain JJ was holding John B underneath the water.

"Nothing's going on," you said in response to Kie's question, rolling your eyes playfully at her exclaim of 'oh c'mon!'. "What? It's the truth. Nothing is going on, not really."

Kie furrowed her brows. "What do you mean by 'not really'? Did something happen between you two?" She prodded.

You shrugged, because in all honesty you couldn't say much of anything about your relationship with JJ. You were just as unsure about it all as Kie and more than likely the rest of the gang were (because if Kie had picked up on it than surely Pope and John B had too, and you were kind of freaking about it.) and had no idea what to say in her line of questioning. Of course you wanted to talk about it, you and the Pogues never kept secrets from each other - but was it really a secret when they technically knew about it anyway, and was it really a secret when you and JJ hadn't even spoken about keeping it a secret too? Your mind raced, and you figured it was easier to just shrug it off for the time being. Kie would no doubt ask again, and you hoped you had the answers by the next time she (or someone else) would.

"He's my best friend," you'd decided on saying. From the corner of your eye, you could see the guys approaching. "We've been close since we were like, ten. We've always been the same."

Except now the two of you held hands under the table and kissed in the safety of your rooms, among other things. That part of your relationship was fairly new though, and so you decided against saying anything until you could work out exactly what was going on between you and JJ - because you had no clue, and weren't even sure that JJ knew himself. It just sort of happened, the line being crossed over from friends to lovers in the blink of an eye. One minute you'd never dare to give in to the temptation of JJ Maybank's heavenly sinful lips, and the next the pair of you were sharing a bed almost every night.

Nothing much had changed though, in regards to your friendship. JJ and you had always been close, always intimate in your touches. Always beside each other, rarely without the other. You were an unstoppable duo from the minute you met. Just somehow, along the line, over the years, your friendship had turned into more. Each touch became longer, each glance would linger, and something had shifted. It was inevitable, you supposed. Nobody was ever really that close with someone without feelings getting involved at some point.

The guys were a lot closer now, and Kie spared them a glance before looking back towards you. "Friends don't look at each other the way you two do." Was all she said before the sun that was earlier shining down on you was blocked by the trio of tall guys that smiled at the pair of you. Kie sat up, smiling as Pope took a seat beside her on her towel. "Have fun out there?"

"Oh, tons," came the voice that belonged to the person you were talking about not a minute ago. JJ smirked down at you, blonde hair dripping wet on his forehead and golden tanned chest on full show. You admired the view behind your sunglasses and sent a grin in his direction when he seemed to notice. "You checking me out there, babe?"

You laughed as he did a little shimmy, rolling your eyes as you looked at him over the rim of your glasses. "What would you do if I was, Maybank?" You played along, smirking when you heard John B let out a gag from somewhere beside you. JJ smiled back, and squatting down in front of your form he'd grabbed hold of your feet, laughing when you squealed. Tugging so that you were laying on your back rather than your front, his sea blue eyes gazed down your body, unknowingly leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The feeling you shared with JJ was unlike any other, nothing or nobody could come close to topping it. It was unexplainable, the feeling of absolute longing for him to just be there forever. You couldn't ever imagine a life without him in it, and that thought both scared and excited you.

JJ stared down at you, tongue peeking from his mouth to wet his pink lips as he looked. You felt hot all over and you knew it wasn't because of the sun. "Things only you could imagine sweetheart," he taunted from above you, knowing fine well that what you could imagine he'd probably already done to you. You smirked back, feeling a thrill shoot through you because the pair of you knew this and the remaining three of your group had no idea, or so you believed. This new relationship, this unspoken thing between the two of you was simply yours, and somewhere in the future you feared you'd both come to regret it, whatever it was, but in the moments of the present you knew neither of you could find it in yourselves to actually care.

And so you both smiled at each other like the world around you didn't exist, and for a couple of seconds you could pretend it didn't, JJ moving so he was seated behind you with your body seated between his legs and your back against his chest. Sat there, surrounded by your friends though almost oblivious to their presence as JJ's hands rested on your skin, his breath on your neck. You leaned into him, and smiled when he placed a discreet kiss to your shoulder.

Locking eyes with him, you grinned. The burst of happiness and content when he grinned back was almost unbearable, and in that moment you knew you never wanted whatever it was that you two shared to end.

It was a few days later when JJ showed up at your window, his face bloody and bruised, his form weak as he pulled himself into your bedroom. You didn't need to ask twice about who'd caused the damage, your body and mind going into autopilot as you hurried from your bed and grabbed hold of him, JJ grunting as he fell into you, his hand clutching desperately at his side.

"Shit, JJ," you'd cursed as you helped him land on your bed, hands instantly grabbing at his face and assessing the damage that had been left by his father. There was cuts along his brow line, his eye was bruised and already swollen shut, his bottom lip bust open and oozing blood. Your thumbs swiped along his cheeks, being careful of the injuries, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes at the sight of him. You blinked them away as quickly as you could, he didn't need to see you being so upset in that moment. And besides, you had bigger issues like getting him cleaned up like you had done too many times before. "Stay here, okay. I'm gonna go get the first aid kit."

JJ only grunted, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room to get the kit, your mind reeling. It was no secret about JJ's father and his years of abuse towards his own son, and you'd seen him beaten so badly so many times before, but it never got any easier. Each time it happened JJ would wound up at your house, and each time you would clean him up, making sure his wounds were tended to and making him as comfortable as possible as he slept next to you, most nights with his head resting on your chest as you soothed him to sleep with whispers of reassurance that you were there and that you loved him. He would fall asleep with tears staining his cheeks and you would cry yourself to sleep afterwards too, wishing that could just take away all his pain, wishing that you could do more, wishing that JJ had a better life than what he was given, because there was no-one that deserved it more.

You sniffed and forced your tears away, trying to focus on the task at hand. It didn't take long to locate the first aid kit and within a minute you were back in your bedroom, where JJ lay, staring up at your ceiling with his chest moving up and down in a motion that proved he was trying to hold his own tears in. Your heart broke at the sight, and you bit down on your wobbling lip as you moved towards him. His eyes met yours when you were close enough, stood in front of him on your bed. You smiled softly.

"Hey, honey," you soothed as he slowly sat up, grimacing at the obvious pain from his side as he did so. Despite his pain, he smirked back at you.

"Hi, baby."

Stepping closer, effectively between his legs, you smiled as his hands wound around and grabbed at your legs, almost as if he was grounding himself, focusing all his attention onto you. You took a moment to take him in as you pressed the wet rag you'd also grabbed on his face, beginning to clean the cut on his eyebrow. It wasn't too deep, thank god, you thought. You feared for the day where one cut might be too deep and one blow too strong, and the thought of JJ, strong and hot headed and impulsive and passionate, might not being able to drag himself out of the house of hell and getting to anyone for help, to you, to John B, to Pope or Kie, scared the shit out of you to put it simply. JJ was so strong, but there was only so much he could take, and you dreaded the day when that would come. You could only hope it never, and in the meantime do your best to prevent it. You let out a shaky breath as you continued to clean the blood from his face, gently dabbing at his torn lip as he hissed. "I'm sorry hon," you murmured, feeling your gut twist at the sight of him in pain.

"I'm okay," he breathed out, only it was shaky and you both knew it to be a lie. You said nothing though, not wanting to start an argument that night. You'd had countless in situations like these, where you'd tell him he needs to get away from his dad and he'd tell you its not that easy and that nothing fucking is on this island, and you'd try and tell him you understand that but you hate seeing him like that, beaten to a pulp, sometimes barely even able to move, and that you were scared to lose him. He'd tell you that you were too good for him, you deserved better, you deserved more, and you'd cry and tell him to shut up, that he was your best friend and all you ever needed and you'd always be there for him, and he would shake his head and deny it all with tears streaming down both your faces until you collapsed into each other and fell asleep with your limbs intertwined whatever mood you'd gone to sleep in. There was something about that night that told you not to argue, not to push him, just clean him up and hold him and let him know that he wasn't alone in this world. His eyes met yours once more. "I'm okay." He repeated, as if you hadn't heard him the first time.

All you could do was nod, and wiping the last bit of blood from his face, you quickly went over the cuts with disinfectant, JJ's grip tightening on the backs of your legs as you continued to tend to every last bit of him. Finishing on his face, you placed a kiss on each and every cut, bruise or scrape that was etched into his skin. He let out a shaky breath, one hand moving up and landing on your back, rubbing up and down as his forehead rested on your shoulder. Running your own hands through his blonde locks, you pressed your nose to the top of his head as you held him close to you. It wasn't long before you felt the tears soak through the material of your shirt (which was technically JJ's shirt, but that didn't matter much.) and his body started to shake against your own, chest heaving and hands shaking.

"I hate him," you heard him mutter. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around him tighter, one hand clutching the back of his neck as the other rubbed soothing patterns onto his back. JJ shook against you, hands clutching onto the sides of your shirt as his lips brushed against the side of your neck as he let out a sob. "I just - I fucking hate him! Why does he do this, why does he -? Why, why, why?"

He was muttering the word over and over again, all sense of himself lost as he sobbed into your neck. In that moment, you felt so useless, so powerless, and you knew that JJ did too. You wished you could take away all his pain, make him see that he was so loved, that you loved him entirely and surely, but all you could do in that moment was hold him tight and screw your eyes shut as you cried along with him.

"He doesn't deserve you, J," you whispered into his hair. "He doesn't deserve you one bit. You're the best son, okay. You're the best friend, the best goddamned person on this island, on this planet! You're so loved, you hear me? You're so loved, babyboy. We all love you, I love you okay. I love you more than anything."

You'd said the words a million times before, but somehow in that moment, wrapped up in each other, JJ sobbing into your chest and you holding him like a person would a child, his ear resting against your heart where he could hear every little beat, his own matching the rhythm soon after - in that moment, _you both knew it meant more. That the friendly shared 'love you's' from so many times before were different to the ones now, and yet still neither of you spoke about it. You focused on JJ, giving him the comfort he so desperately needed. And JJ focused on you, focused on your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing and the soothing words you were whispering to him, and you had no clue as to what he was thinking; that he loved you, so fucking much. JJ Maybank didn't know what to do with that, to love someone so completely and honestly like he loved you, beyond the point of friendship and into the unknown territory of _in-love _absolutely _terrified him. But he knew it to be true, he was in love with you.

And as you forced him to take his shirt off so you could inspect the bruises surrounding his stomach and chest, laying a gentle kiss onto each and every one of them as he started at you with pure adoration in his eyes, he thought about your relationship - fears of you getting bored of him, wanting more than the island life and more than him, fears of you leaving him for something or someone simply more. Realising that he was no good like he'd always said, always suspected. But then you gazed at him with a certain glint in your eyes that he knew was reflecting in his own, and you were pressing your lips to his in a soft caress that dimmed all thoughts from his head and the question of 'are you bored yet?' fell flat on his lips as you ate them, chewed it up and spat it straight back out.

That conversation could come later, he supposed.

JJ's jaw clenched as he took in the sight of you, skin glowing in the late night sun that was slowly fading in the moons advance. The kegger had begun only an hour or so before, and yet the beach was filled with people already - varying of Pogues, Tourons and Kooks.

Among them all was you, red cup placed in your hands as you laughed at something the guy in front of you was saying, a small smile on the boys lips as he watched you. JJ felt something twist in his gut, suddenly feeling nauseous as he was stood a bit away from you, taking in the sight with malice in his blue eyes. He didn't know the guy that much was for sure, which could only mean one thing; he was definitely a Touron. That also probably meant that he was one of the few people at the party that didn't know JJ or anything of his reputation for being a bit too hot headed. JJ couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

"Dude," John B slapped a hand on his shoulder, effectively snapping his trance at the pair across the beach. JJ turned towards his best friend, a smirk on John B's lips as their eyes met. "You're gonna poke holes into that guys head the way you're glaring at him man."

JJ rolled his eyes, his head once again moving to look back towards your figure. You didn't look mad at the attention the guy was giving you, and that sent a trail of fury in JJ's veins. "Who is that guy, man?" He asked instead of replying to John B's playful taunts. John B seemed to take note of that and simply shook his head. Fucking clueless, he thought.

"Dunno," John B replied as he took a swig of the beer in his hands. "Some Touron, probably." He glanced at his best friends face and noticed the glare darken in JJ's eyes. He suddenly shifted, blocking his view of you and the guy, ignoring JJ's grunt of displeasure at his move. "Don't start anything, J. Alright?"

JJ scoffed. "Me?" He chuckled darkly. "Nah man, you know I'd never start anything," he patted John B's chest twice. "I'm not the fighting type." JJ knew that John B could make out the sarcastic drawl to his words, and looking away from the brunette's eyes JJ was glancing back at you. His features shifted dramatically as he saw the guy take a step closer to your body, and despite the somewhat uncomfortable smile on your face you never seemed to object to the move. JJ felt the anger in his veins grow. "Fuck this!"

John B stopped him before he could take another step, shoving his chest so that he stumbled backwards. "Don't even think about it," JB warned. From afar, Pope seemed to take notice of the two and began to walk towards the seething blonde and his brunette best friend. "Pope, man tell him," John B practically pleaded as the most level headed of the group arrived at their side. It didn't take long for Pope to realise what the source of JJ's anger was, spotting you and the guy, completely oblivious to what was going on. "What are you planning on doing, huh?"

"He's all over her," JJ simply said - as if that was enough of an excuse for his anger. Pope and John B shared a glance. "I'm just gonna go over there and see if she's alright, alright?"

"Why do you care if he's all over her?" Pope raised his eyebrows. "You're not her boyfriend."

That faltered JJ's stance, and for a split second he looked away from you - still laughing, both hands gripping the cup in your hands, bikini clad top on full show for unwelcome eyes to wander. He clenched his jaw tighter, teeth clashing in his mouth, as he thought about Pope's words. Was it technically true; wasn't he your boyfriend? He didn't know - neither of you did. You hadn't spoken about anything, the changes in your relationship coming almost naturally so that neither of you cared to at first.

First, there was the no Pogue-on-Pogue macking rule. Second, there was something so deliciously thrilling about keeping your relationship from everyone else - no room for drama or prying eyes, or so he thought. But the unknown was beginning to scare him, and all he wanted was answers.

It was as if putting a label on what you both were would potentially put an end to everything, all the kissing, cuddling, secret touches, lingering looks, whispered endearments. The pair of you were too young for this shit, JJ thought. Thinking so hard about what you are or weren't. And god forbid you'd both come to regret it all; JJ couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

"I'm not gonna do anything," he said simply, and shoved his way past his friends before they could do anything else. He approached you, your eyes immediately catching his and a large grin overtaking the features of your face as he came closer. The guy seemed to notice your shift in attention and he turned too, eyes widening a bit at the sight of the blonde stood in front of him. JJ tried to smile naturally, his too sharp teeth secretly grinding together. "Hey," he chirped as if he was talking to an old friend. "How're you doing, man? I'm JJ."

You hid a laugh behind your hand, having no clue as to what JJ was trying to achieve but finding the obviously fake enthusiasm rather hilarious in that moment. Over his shoulder, you noticed John B and Pope watching with careful eyes, and everything seemed to click in your mind. _JJ was obviously planning on starting something. _You decided to get yourself and your somewhat boyfriend slash best friend out of the situation before anything could happen, the poor Touron didn't have a clue that you were kinda taken, to a fist throwing first ask questions later, tall blonde named JJ Maybank after all.

"It was nice talking to you, dude," you told the guy, his face dropping at the word dude. God, had he seriously wasted all that time flirting with you? You grabbed JJ's hand, only for him to tug it out of yours and place it around your shoulders, blue eyes sending daggers to the nervous boy on front of you. "We're gonna go now, I think."

And with that, you led the way away from him, not missing the way JJ's eyes swooped over the guy in an almost warning manner before smirking at him. Your hand reached up and fingers intertwined with those of JJ's that were sat rather comfortably near your breast. JJ's fingers squeezed yours in response, his arm tugging you closer before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to the top of your head.

Once you were a good distance away from the party and its occupants on the beach, you turned in his arm, hand letting go of his to wrap both your arms around his waist. He kept the same arm around your shoulder and placed his other on your bare back between the high waist line of your shorts and the knot of your bikini, long fingers spacing out and rubbing soothing patterns into the skin.

You sighed as you looked at him. "What was that about?" You questioned, a small smile tugging on your lips regardless of the seriousness in your question as you demanded answers.

"That guy was all over you," JJ grunted, his eyes leaving yours to glare at the space where you stood a minute before talking to the said guy. "He was practically drooling all over you. I saved you, y'know. You should be thanking me, babe."

You laughed, and rolling your eyes you reached up to touch his face, thumb smoothing over the still darkened skin under his eye from the confrontation of his dad earlier that week. Leaning up on your toes, aware that nobody could see the action from the distance you and JJ were stood from the kegger, you pressed a kiss to the bruised skin, JJ's eyes closing at the feel of your lips against his skin, a soft exhale leaving his chest.

"Were you jealous, baby?" You teased gently, chuckling at his scoff in response to your accusation. "Relax, J. You don't have to be. I've only got eyes for you."

That seemed to catch his attention. JJ pulled away from you a bit, blue eyes suddenly serious and pink lips forming a tight line. For a second you worried you'd said something wrong, suddenly afraid that he would pull back completely and distance himself from you like you feared one day he would - it was only a matter of time before he realised what you had was a mistake, you worried. That he'd get bored of you and realise there was so many other people he could have. The thought alone made you sick, and you forced the intruding thoughts to the back of your head as JJ's eyes trailed over your face.

"What's wrong?" You couldn't take it anymore. The silence was deafening, even with the music and chatter of the teenagers behind you lingering in the night air. JJ seemed to get hold of his bearings at that moment, shaking his head and leaving a hand from your body to run through his hair. You watched him all the while, lip between your teeth. "J, what's wrong baby?"

JJ wished he had an answer, but he simply didn't. He had no idea what was wrong, no way of telling you the thoughts that were running through his mind. JJ had never been good with words, or emotions, or anything much like that at all. And so he just shook his head, sighing deeply as his hands caressed your face. You welcomed the touch, head leaning into his hold as he smiled down at you. You knew there was something he wanted to say to you; you had known him for so long, felt like all your life, and you could see right through his lies. However you never said a thing, once again. In that moment, it felt enough to just be by his side.

"Can we go?" He muttered quietly, despite no-one being around you. You smiled softly, eyes staring into each others there on the beach. "Just wanna go to sleep with you," he murmured that time, leaning down and kissing the side of your lips, not completely which had you grumbling quietly.

"Course, baby," you whispered as you looked at him, feeling nothing but adoration and love for the boy in front of you. "Let's go."

And so after kissing him under the moonlight, feet sunken in the damp sand as the sea splashed around you, the kegger still going strong in the distance, JJ took your hands and led the way back to the Chateau, where despite both your similar thoughts you crawled into bed in the spare bedroom and fell asleep together, your head resting on his chest with his cheek pressed against your head, arms wrapped around forms and legs intertwined.

It was hot, blistering heat panning down on your form as you lay on the hammock outside the Chateau, eyes closed with one arm resting over them in a fleeting attempt to block the sun out. Despite the unbearable temperature of the day, JJ lay in between your legs, perfectly muscular arms wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your stomach that was covered only by one of his infamous cut-off sleeve shirts, only a bikini underneath it keeping you modest.

One of your hands played with the hair on the back of his neck, twirling the strands in between your fingers and repeating the process over and over again, JJ letting out a low him as you did so.

It was just the two of you, the quiet and peacefulness welcome on the hot day as you cuddled as close as you could and as much as you wanted, nothing off limits away from the prying eyes of your best friends. Both Kie and Pope were working, John B having traded your company for that of Sarah Cameron's for the day, and so that only left the pair of you to do anything and everything you pleased. JJ had let out a joyous whoop when you'd discovered the fact, and you'd only managed to get out of bed half an hour before as he took full advantage of having the Chateau to yourselves for the morning. The original plan was to go surfing, but as soon as you'd stepped out of the house the both of you seemed to come to a silent mutual agreement that lounging around in the sun on the porch was a much more welcoming idea instead.

And so that's what the pair of you had done; there was barely a word uttered between you both as you lay there, JJ's skin slightly sticky and damp on your own due to the heat, but neither of you seemed to mind as you simply closed your eyes and basked in the quiet, content with doing nothing with your favourite person.

JJ's hands had moved so that he was caressing your side, your skin revealed with the low cut of his shirt as his thumb rubbed patterns into your skin. In its wake it left goosebumps, JJ's touch never failing to make you shiver even in all the years you had known him. He knew what effect he had on you too, he smirked as you shivered, his other hand squeezing the flesh of your hip.

You trailed your own hands down from his hair and onto the exposed flesh of his back as he lay shirtless, and you could feel the muscles under your palms clench as you let out a small giggle. JJ chuckled along, although he'd had no idea as to what it was you were laughing at in the first place. The sound of your laugh just made him happy, he supposed.

"What're you laughing at?" He murmured quietly, chin propping on your stomach and his eyes squinting up at you. He'd moved a hand down to your thigh, now kneading the flesh there as his other remained on your side and wrote unknown words into the skin there. You grinned down at him lazily, the sun and his charming aura making you feel high. Then again, you probably were high; the blunt you'd both shared a couple of minutes earlier taking its toll.

"Nothing," you hummed. "Just really, really fucking happy right now s'all."

JJ laughed, laying a kiss onto your stomach and loving the way you giggled at the action. He pressed more there, letting out dramatic sounds of various 'mwah's' as he trailed them up further until his lips were on the skin on your collarbone, continuing his assault onto your neck. JJ's tongue darted out, and your giggles had soon turned into breathy moans of approval as he sucked on the skin, his sharpened teeth sinking into the flesh not long after. You gripped the back of his neck, fingernails digging into his hairline as your sounds of pleasure rippled through the air surrounding you without a care in the world. In that moment you couldn't care less if anyone had caught you - all that mattered was JJ, all that ever mattered was JJ. He sucked gently on your flesh, adding to the bruises that already littered your chest, stomach, thighs, anywhere he could get his mouth earlier. You both knew questions would be asked from the others, in the high temperatures of the Outer Banks your skin was almost always revealed. But again, neither of you cared.

Not when JJ's mouth left your skin with a satisfying pop, his eyes taking in the sight of the freshly bruised flesh, a content smile on his lips. He leaned down and peppered a kiss to the lovebite, soothing his tongue over it afterwards. You let out a sigh, suddenly breathless under his heated gaze.

JJ shuffled his body up and closer, one leg in between yours as his right hand came up and held your face tenderly in his palm, the rough skin of his thumb swiping along your brow as he grinned cheekily down at you. "You're fucking beautiful y'know that?"

Your cheeks blazed, an almost embarrassed laugh leaving your mouth and you shook your head at his words. JJ looked offended suddenly, his brows furrowing as he nodded furiously. "Um, yes you are. Don't you dare say that you're not because you're, fucking, beautiful, okay," between each word he left lingering kisses to your lips with his own, and you knew it was probably the weed in his system that had spurred him to such a romantic confrontation, but you welcomed it regardless, giggling against his lips as one leg hooked around his waist. "Fucking god, you keep doing that and we won't be moving from this hammock all day."

"I'm not complaining about that," you replied and pressed your lips harder to his. JJ let out a groan, his body impulsively pushing down further onto yours, his hips directly on yours, chests pressed close together, his arm holding him up enough near your head so he didn't suffocate you completely, his other kneading the soft flesh of your bikini bottom clad ass. Your own hands caressed the skin of his abdomen, fingers sprawled and feeling his abs tense underneath the tips. You pulled away only slightly, taking in the sight of his flushed face, his eyes bright and yearning, flashing with something you couldn't quite place and his lips swollen and so very red. "Thank you, by the way." You whispered as you reached up and pushed the hair from his face. "You're pretty beautiful yourself, hon."

JJ seemed to understand what you were getting at then, his chest heaving with a chuckle as he shook his head at you. He leaned down and placed a kiss to your nose, returning his head to snuggle into your neck as you were once again wrapped around each other. "Thanks, I know," he joked (possibly) as his hands resumed their pattern of soothing shapes on your ribs. You hummed a random tune, the calming atmosphere returning around the pair of you on the porch. It was quiet for a few more minutes, your eyes closing involuntarily and almost falling asleep right then and there before JJ spoke up again. "You're my best friend, y'know."

The words were so quiet you almost missed them, but with the silence surrounding you, you'd heard them loud and clear. Your eyes opened and you glanced down at the boy laying atop of you, his face hidden in the skin of your neck.

"I would hope so," you laughed slightly, having no clue as to where JJ was planning on going with the fact. "You're my best friend too. I'd be lost without you and the guys."

"No," JJ shook his head. He shifted in his place, eyes connecting with yours as you sent him a questioning look, quirking your eyebrow. JJ sighed deeply, sucking his lower chapped lip into his mouth for a second before releasing it and allowing your finger to trace the outline of it. "You don't get it. You're like, my best friend. I know it sounds stupid and I'm probably a selfish fucker for saying it, but I'd put you above everyone else. You are above everyone else. And like, I don't know how else to explain it but you mean the fucking world to me. Without you, I'd be nothing. If I lost you, I'd fucking die."

His voice broke at the end, and it damn near broke your heart as you hushed him gently, arms circling around his head and holding it close to your chest. You kissed his forehead, hearing him sniffle before he raised his head and met your eyes, the sea blue crystallised by unshed tears.

"I feel like I've known you my whole life, and I just - I don't know what I'd do without you. I'm scared honestly, shit fucking feared of losing you, or you realising that I'm just a no good low life and you could do better, and honestly you could and I don't even know what the fuck you're doing with me," JJ chuckled darkly and you shook your head, feeling tears prick at your own eyes at his words. "And I don't even know if you want to be with me, or if what we're doing is some mistake you're gonna regret, but you're my best friend."

The earnest in his voice made your heart clench in your chest. You'd seen JJ cry numerous times, seen his facade break and his world around him to crash, seen the emotions pour out of him with so much force whether they be happy, sad, fucking hysterical or ecstatic; and you'd loved him through it all. The realisation of just how much you loved him, that went beyond friendship and into pure, earnest and genuine love for the boy in front of you, made your head swirl and butterflies in your stomach to clash heavily against your ribcage. Something warm spread throughout you, and you welcomed the feeling with open arms. You loved JJ Maybank, purely and honestly, with every fibre in your being.

"J," you murmured carefully, gripping his damp cheeks and forcing him to look at you. His face was unreadable, but you could see in his eyes what he was feeling in that moment. "You're fucking crazy, alright? Everything about you is so damned chaotic and I love every bit of it. I love every bit of you, so much. Do you know how scared I was that you would take all this back? Regret it all, leave me for someone better. I was scared shitless, because I cannot lose you. You're my best friend, and all I wanna do is spend all my time with you."

"I've never felt like this before," you whispered as JJ's gaze softened, hands gripping your hips and squeezing gently. You traced the worry in his brows, easing it away, traced the bottoms of his eyes, the slope of his nose and the outline of his lips. He breathed against your fingertips, the soft exhale making the hairs on your arms raise. "I love you, J. And if you think you're ever gonna get rid of me, you're terribly fucking mistaken."

JJ chuckled at that, blonde head falling on your chest as he breathed in and out, seemingly catching his breath at your confession. "Thank god," he breathed, cheeky gaze raising to catch yours as he grinned, suddenly surging forward and catching your lips with his own in a deep and passionate embrace that had you feeling dizzy at the pure feel of it all. "I was scared you were gonna tell me to fuck off, thought you were using me for my body for a minute there, babe."

You full on laughed, breaking away from his eager lips to let it out, your hands clutching his cheeks and your legs squashing his body atop yours from where they were wrapped around his waist. "You're such a fucker, J." He kissed along your jaw in response, biting down softly. "God, that weed must have been some new level shit."

"Nah," JJ shook his head and grinned. "You just drive me crazy, babygirl." His hands wandered from your ribs higher till his fingertips just slipped under the material of your bikini top. He pressed a further series of tender kisses to your chest, trailing them down and then back up to meet your lips once more. He gazed lovingly at you, looking golden in the sunlight. "I love you too, by the way. Just so y'know."

You grinned softly, catching his bottom lip with your teeth when he began to pull away, pulling a delicious groan from him. "I know," you echoed back to him, lips raising on their own accord to match JJ's almost shy smile at your declaration. "Hey, can we stay home today? Wanna watch the sunset with you later."

JJ snorted, laying one last lingering kiss to your lips before snuggling back into your neck, his eyelashes brushing against your delicate skin. "Whatever you want baby," he chuckled, breath warm. "Whatever you want."

Yours and JJ's (now established, thankfully) relationship only progessed from there; it was in the little things, spending every moment you could get with each other, always touching in some kind of way whether it to be hands curled around one another's, fingers dancing on skin, shoulders and arms brushing, legs squished beside each other. It was all new, and it was all so exciting, and any worries that the two of you may had shared earlier vanished and in their wake came new thoughts of the future, of which you'd spend together.

If the gang had noticed the change, they hadn't mentioned it. Though you already knew Kie suspected something a long time ago, and probably Pope and John B too, due to JJ's little episode at the kegger that time. But you and JJ rejoiced in the unknown, relationship growing stronger each day all the while. You weren't trying to hide it - god forbid, you'd both been waiting so long for it, but you hadn't officially announced you were boyfriend and girlfriend either. There wasn't anything to say, you thought. The relationship came naturally, years of close friendship gradually turning into something more for the pair of you, and you'd both agreed it would be way funnier for the gang to come to their own conclusions and confront you about it themselves. However long that would take them.

The Pogues had driven the HMS Pogue out to the marsh, planning on drinking, swimming and simply hanging out for the day. Sarah had joined you on that particular day, body pressed close to John B's as the group lounged around on the boat, you and JJ wrapped around each other as usual.

His muscular arm was wrapped around your shoulders as you sprawled out close together, your legs thrown over his as your body angled towards his own, head resting on his shoulder. Your hands held the one thrown over you, absentmindedly playing with his ring adorned fingers. His other gripped your knee laying over his, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into the tanned skin there.

Nobody had mentioned your closeness - it was nothing new, the pair of you had always been so close, always touching even before becoming a couple. But Sarah wasn't as close with you as the others, and though she was aware of how close you and JJ were, she wasn't as up to date with everything like everyone else. You'd had no idea that she always just assumed the pair of you were dating, until that day.

"So, you guys are like, a couple right?" She'd asked out of the blue, eyes directed onto you and JJ. Kie suddenly sat up straight, sunglasses raising to rest atop her head rather than on her nose, Pope beside her seemingly taking as much interest, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he listened.

From beside Sarah, John B laughed and shook his head. "Everyone thinks that," he grinned, looking to you and JJ who shared a knowing glance. Sarah looked at him in confusion. "They can't help it though, their sexual tension is through the roof."

Sarah looked even more confused. "Wait, so you guys aren't together?"

JJ cleared his throat, arm tightening around your shoulders. You squeezed his hand as you stared up at him, smiling softly at his uncertain gaze. Once he'd met your eyes, the uncertainty faded away and in its place came a cheeky kind of look, mischievous and so attractive that you had to hold yourself back from kissing him right then and there. You knew it was time to come clean; and you thought it would scare you, your relationship suddenly becoming so real, but the thought only made your insides twist and churn with nothing but excitement.

You looked back at Sarah, who's gaze was still on the pair of you, as well as everyone elses. You noted the almost giddy expression on Kie's face, the barely suppressed curiosity on Pope's, and the suddenly confused one of John B's. You almost laughed, but held it in to say, "Actually, yeah. JJ and I are together."

JJ squeezed you gently as the reactions from your friends began. Kie grinned smugly, Sarah smiled at the two of you, John B raised his eyebrows so high they almost got lost beneath his hat, and Pope slapped his knees before he lurched backwards with his arms raised above his head.

"I knew it, man," Pope shook his head, though a smile was growing on his handsome features. "I knew something's been up with you two."

You laughed as Kie scoffed, "You knew? I had it figured out from the very beginning, I could tell something had changed." She eyed you. "And I was specifically told that nothing was going on, you big fat liar!"

"I'm sorry," you chuckled. "In my defence, when you asked me about it then I actually didn't know if we were like, together together. We hadn't spoken about it yet."

JJ grinned and pulled your body closer, leaning down and pressing a sloppy kiss to the top of your head as your face was mushed into his bare chest. "Yeah, and who can blame her for wanting to keep my Sex God body all to herself?" He asked rhetorically, laughing when you slapped him on the chest with a playful eye roll.

"Wait, so are you a couple now?" John B questioned, puzzled. He looked between the pair of you, your arms wrapped around his waist, one of his still around your shoulder and hand resting between your boobs. The other brushed hair from your face, JJ's gaze loving and soft as he looked down at you before looking back towards his best friend. John B scrunched his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't tell anyone man," JJ shrugged carelessly. His fingers had began to play with your hair. "Figured it would be funnier for you guys to find out yourselves," he grinned. "So congratulations, you guys now know. Your reward is the knowledge that we fuck now!"

The gang groaned at his ludicrous words, and you slapped his chest with more force than you had before, just slightly as you scoffed and attempted to raise your head and move position to get a good look at him, but all JJ did was grab your hand and pull it upwards to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles instead.

You rolled as your eyes as you turned back to your friends. "We're sorry about not telling you," you said almost sheepishly. "We only really figured out what this was between us a few days ago, and by that time we just kinda forgot to mention it. This whole thing just kinda happened, we didn't know if it would last or become serious."

"And it has become serious now?" Pope voiced everyone's thoughts, glancing between the two of you. "Like, you're together as a couple. You love each other?"

You and JJ shared a look, the pair of you smiling softly as your hand raised and brushed the blonde strands of hair that fell over his brow, his own reaching up and holding the side of your jaw, his thumb swiping along your cheek lovingly. The others shared glances, unknown to you and JJ as you seemed to be lost inside your own little world for a moment.

When you came to again, you never turned from his eyes, watching the sea blue irises light up at your words; "Yeah, I love him, the fucker."

You heard a collective round of replies, but the feel of JJ's lips on yours for a second forced your attention on him and only him, your hands on his cheeks as you held him there for a full minute before pulling away, leaving a couple more little pecks on his lips. He whispered, "I love you." before he turned his attention to your friends, your smile so bright.

"I thought she'd get bored of me," he revealed unexpectedly. The Pogues (plus Sarah) all looked to him with various expressions of confusion, your own face matching theirs for a moment. JJ felt a smile tug on his lips as your hands massaged his scalp, nails scraping gently against the skin beneath. "But of course she couldn't, I mean I'm the fucking best am I not?"

The gang rolled their eyes as his normal cheeky expression returned, though they all smiled at the pair of you cuddled close together on the seats of the HMS Pogue, realising it was the happiest they'd ever seen the both of you. John B let out a sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, it's about time anyway."

And just like that, everything went back to normal. You knew they'd have more questions in the future, prepared to answer any and every one of them when they came. But your little group swayed their attention elsewhere sat out on their little boat, laughing and joking at the next topic of conversation, bright eyes and giddy smiles on every face as you drank, swam and sunbathed out there on the marsh. JJ was only looking at you though, skin golden and blue eyes shining. You loved him, you thought. How could he ever think you'd get bored of him, with his charm and quick witted words, sarcastic drawl and tendency to get into trouble, his obsession with weed and putting others before himself always, his beautiful mind and ridiculously good looks to match. He was yours, all yours. And you loved him. JJ grinned. "Are you bored yet?" He asked, just once, loving the sound of your giggle as you shook your head at his antics. "No? Good, because I'm never gonna get bored of you."

[touyota]

Catfish

☁ Summary: Tomura is hopeless when it comes to relationships, and soon that’s all subject to change. With the power of Tinder, Touya and one oblivious chick on his side, who knows what can happen. 

A/N: omgggg, i’ve lurked on my priv for the past year and finally decided to stop being a narc and post something. i haven’t written in forever and it shows lmao, but uh yeah pls give me feedback if you’d like. (also idk if this has been. done before, but sorryyy if it has)

☁ Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

☁ Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, manipulation, dumbfication (if you squint), slapping, yandere, catfishing 

"Fuck I'm horny." 

Tomura groaned into his pillow, conflicted with whether he should be agitated or turned on. Due to his third nap of the day being interrupted by the excessive lewd noises coming from the shared living room. Tomura's roommate, Touya, had no real understanding of boundaries and was often more bothersome than helpful. Still, without his portion of the rent, he'd be on the streets struggling to find an apartment within his meager budget.

"Keep fucking me, Touya-san!" The plea echoed through the thin walls of the shoddy apartment. At least someone was getting laid. The last time Tomura had gotten lucky was at an impromptu Halloween party thrown by Touya at the apartment. 

He went as Jason Vorhees using a dingy hockey mask he found in Touya's closet. The poor girl in question, who came dressed as an angel, was drunk out of her mind. She clung to Tomura's scrawny body incoherently, slurring about "How hot it would be to fuck a murderer." The fling hadn't lasted long before the young lady in question toppled over the side of his bed and hurled her entire cup of jungle juice onto the floor. Poor Tomura had to spend his night nursing her head over the toilet. Making a mental note to tell Touya that he couldn't invite any freshmen to their parties ever again.

Tomura ended up seeing her again in passing on campus, giving a small smile as she walked by. Only to be met with an eye roll as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. Fucking bitch... Other than that, Tomura had found himself too busy writing code, playing video games, and browsing Reddit to dedicate any time to dating. The polar opposite of his roomie Touya-san, a communications major whose schedule consisted of dating? If you considered fucking the same chick for a week before ghosting her dating, sleeping, and eating and drinking Tomura out of a house and home.

"You ready for my load? You're my little cum dump, right? Say you're my cum du-"

Speaking of fucking, Tomura's hard-on was starting to hurt, and what better way to relieve himself than to beat off to the action in the adjacent room. 

He started to palm himself over his sweats, erection already beginning to poke through. Figuring that he's teased himself enough, he lowered his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach, throbbing and angry. He slowly stroked himself, gathering the pre-cum spouting from the tip, and used it to lube the rest of his cock.

"Pleaseee fuck! I'm your little cum dump! I swear Touya!" 

Tomura started to stroke his cock faster, leaving a squelching noise with each stroke. He was barely managing to suppress his moans. Knowing how Touya wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he got caught fucking his hand to the sounds of their subtle lovemaking. 

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming!" Touya grunted, giving out after his final stroke.

Tomura followed suit, flicking his wrist with each stroke. As his orgasm finally took hold of him, biting into his shirt to stifle his moan as he came all over his fist. 

"Are you fucking serious, Touya?"

"What?" 

"I didn't get to cum?"

"Um… I'm sure you can take care of that when you get home."

"You're such a piece of sh-"

Tomura tuned out the rest of his roommate's performance. Really hoping he'd wrap it up cause he really needed to take a piss and couldn't make it to the bathroom without passing through the living room. 

After hearing a respectable amount of silence, he figured it was safe to leave the room. Of course, he was wrong; he was met with a staredown between Touya and a petite blonde woman.

"I'm sure your roommate Tenko wouldn't leave a lady hanging like that."

"It's Tomura," he muttered.

"Same fucking thing, my point still stands," The mystery woman huffed. There was a pregnant pause before Touya doubled over in laughter, clutching his chest.

"You think this cuck knows how to take care of a lady? Yeah, it's time to go, Tara."

"It's Toga, you shit stai-"her statement was abruptly interrupted, the door slamming in her face. Touya's back slid down against the door as he sat facing Tomura. 

"Chicks? Am I right?" Touya sighed, peering over at Tomura, who had just left the bathroom. "Speaking of chicks, when's the last time you had sex, Shiggy?"

"It's been... a while." Tomura shrugged, not wanting to indulge his roommate with the details of his sex life.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's make you a Tinder." Touya proudly announced, excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker for his roommate. Tomura reluctantly gave in, knowing once Touya was set on something, it was bound to happen one way or another. 

Two blunts later, Tomura and Touya were strewn over the couch, mulling over his profile's final details. It consisted of three pics, one from the Halloween party, another from their most recent function. The last pic is a selfie of him in a black hoodie with sunglasses on. The icing on top is the bio that unironically stated, "Freak in the sheets, gamer in the streets."

"You're gonna be a real pussy magnet shiggy. Just wait, you'll have to fight the chicks off with a stick after they see this." Touya chuckled as he took another puff of the blunt.

"Go to hell and stop hogging; you didn't put shit in on this anyways," Tomura muttered as he snatched the blunt away to take a pull. Maybe he would find some success, he entertained the concept of having a consistent fuck buddy, but sometimes he was lonely and just wanted someone to lay up with. He wanted to be optimistic about something for once, taking his final pull and ashing the blunt out. The smoky haze and intoxicating scent lulling him to sleep. 

Fuck optimism, Tomura thought. It had been three days with zero matches or messages, and he was starting to think there had to be a glitch in the system. The only time he had seen a match is when he accidentally swiped on Midnight's profile, a famous Only fans content creator who specialized in BDSM. The same Midnight that he happened to be a top donor for and occasionally bought panties from, but that's beside the point. The profile was poorly made with blurry, uncropped pics taken straight from her social media profiles. The lack of detail and legitimacy was apparent. Tomura felt terrible for the poor soul who probably fell for it, but it made him think… 

Why not see how different the response would be if he ran a profile under someone else's guise.  Someone more attractive, someone more affluent, and someone more famous. This was simply a social experiment; no harm would come from it of course. He would simply ghost anyone who wanted to meet, keeping all interactions virtual. Now who could he possibly pretend to be. without getting caught. Tomura's eyes finally settled on an Axe ad playing on tv featuring male model Keigo Takami. Mr. tall, blonde, and handsome would definitely attract the feminine masses.  

Ding ding ding, it was like a bell went off in his head; he had found his new look. He started to scour the internet for any pictures of Hawks that weren't already posted to his socials and be sure to crop any evidence out. A few hours later, Tomura gazed over his final product. He thought it seemed too good to be true; he was sure that anyone with a working brain would know the profile was clearly a catfish. It was too clean, too pristine, and too perfect, but Tomura was tired of the profile's nit-picking details and saved his last changes. It was starting to get dark, and he had to begin his Comp Sci homework soon so he'd have time to play zombies on Call of Duty later. 

Tomura woke to a multitude of buzzes notifying him of the several hundred matches he'd accumulated overnight on his Hawks profile. Apparently, no one had a working brain within the 15-mile radius. The messages were filled with tons of chicks he had seen on campus or in class. He even recognized the one from the Halloween party. He spent his morning smoke break, siphoning through the various contenders.

Too tall.

Too blonde.

Too ugly. 

Until...

He finally stopped scrolling when he reached your profile; he had seen you before in his Major classes. You were a somewhat modest girl, always working to be an overachiever and teacher's pet. You hadn't spoken to him before, only forcing a smile when Tomura was caught staring at you in class. You were talented, beautiful, quiet, and you hadn't encountered Touya yet. You were everything he had wanted, and more. He started to type a message awaiting your response.

Keigo: "What's keeping you up this late, love ;)" 

Tomura thought to keep it casual enough to fit his suave persona.

Y/N: "lol, just sum late night studying keeping me up."

Y/N: "won't lie im very nervous to texting you rn, i'm a big fan 

Keigo: "it's gud knowing i have fans as cute as you ;p"

The conversation seemed to flow from there between you two, texting for almost two weeks strong. Tomura had learned so much about you in a short time, your favorite foods, your favorite color, favorite music, and your dislikes as well. Touya often came by his room to check in on Operation: Get Shiggy Some Pussy, only to be met with a "Fuck off," and yet another door slammed in his face. 

You gushed over how lucky you were to be texting the one and only Keigo Takami. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but what kind of fucked up person would take the time to pretend to be another person? The conversation between you two was great and always kept you on your toes. Still, sometimes days would pass before you received a response; you chalked it to the fact that he was always busy as a celebrity and didn't always have time to respond to you. 

You were currently lying in bed and unable to fall asleep; you peered at your phone to see that it was 2:05 am. You let out a sigh, preparing to stare at your ceiling until you finally fell asleep, only to be interrupted by a chime from your phone. It was a message from Keigo. 

Keigo: you up? ;(

You instantly typed a response, scared that you had done something wrong.

Y/N: yup, what's wrong…?

Keigo: i'm so fucking hard rn baby ;(((

Oh shit, you hadn't prepared yourself for that response; maybe he injured himself at work or-

Keigo: you still there babe? send a pic ;p

You definitely hadn't prepared for that, but who were you to deny him. Keigo could've asked anyone else in the world, but he asked you. Not wanting to leave him waiting, you quickly shucked your shirt off and used your arm to push up your breasts, giving an illusion of the perfect push up bra. You promptly took several pics, taking the time to edit and select the ideal filters to complement your skin tone.

Y/N: 1 image sent

A bubble indicating him typing popped up instantly 

Keigo: 3 images sent

Keigo: fuckkkk babe, ur such a tease

You opened the pics, feeling your panties dampen slightly. It was a cock, well Keigo's cock, fat and engorged, leaking pre-cum against his toned belly. He was mostly well-groomed, but a prominent white tuft of hair appears in the picture, making you wonder if Keigo was actually a natural blonde.

Keigo: 1 video sent

 let me see that pretty pussy baby, 

It was a video of Keigo languidly stroking his cock, how romantic. It was only right for a gorgeous man like Keigo to have a pretty cock to match. What he lacked in girth was definitely made up for in length, complemented with a slight curve that could definitely reach that itch that none of your toys could scratch.  By now, you had ditched your panties and started to slowly start to fuck yourself open with one finger at a time. You started recording and angled the phone against your pillow, trying to capture you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, letting out a small whimper with each thrust.

Y/N: 1 video sent 

You began to fuck yourself vigorously, dragging the accumulated slick over your clit with slow, circular strokes. You felt your orgasm on the brink, growing more restless and desperate, humping reverently at your fingers, whimpering desperately; you were so close...There was a sudden surge of fluid from your core, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth as you kept carefully fucked yourself through your climax. The post-orgasm bliss lulling you to sleep, your eyes had finally fluttered shut, only to be awakened by another chime. 

Keigo: 1 image sent 

look @ all that cum baby, its all for you ;)

Y/N: when can we meet? my fingers can only work for so long :p

Read: 2:53 am

Aw man, maybe he fell asleep. You were definitely fighting sleep at this point as well, finally closing your eyes, satisfied for the night. 

Tomura struggled to catch his breath, reaching for his discarded shirt to wipe the sticky cum off of his stomach. That was the third time this month you'd ask about a meeting, and it was frankly starting to piss him off. He'd have to come up with something fast if he wanted to keep you around. Even though he didn't have much of a moral compass left in his body, the feeling of guilt was hard to ignore. You didn't deserve to be roped into his fucked up social experiment… 

A yawn interrupted Tomura's guilty thoughts. He could continue to feel guilty when he wakes up tomorrow.

 The following week your prayers had been answered, Keigo finally agreed to meet! It had been such a bittersweet feeling. What if he thought you looked nothing like your profile pictures? Would he reject you and run the other way, screaming? You tried to push your doubtful feelings down by distracting yourself with running errands. Finding the perfect outfit to wear, getting every inch of your body waxed, and picking up a lacy red lingerie set. 

Upon getting back to your apartment, you found a red bouquet of roses on the doormat. They were clearly store-bought and not of excellent quality… but it's the thought that counts! 

Lots of celebrities were frugal, and of course, Keigo was no different. After further inspection, a small white card with an address and time. You searched the address finding a mid-grade hotel on the outskirts of the city. Keigo was definitely a (cheap) frugal man dedicated to his discretion. Soon realizing that the time on the card was approaching, you quickly ran to shower and primp yourself for the evening. Not even thinking to question how he found your address in the first place...

You had finally arrived at the sketchy hotel, noting that there were little to no cars in the parking lot and noting that none of them looked like they belonged to Keigo. You wandered through the lobby until you finally reached the elevator, tapping the button for the 5th floor. You tried to shake off your pre-meeting jitters, you already knew everything would be fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong...

Those intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the chime that indicated you had reached your floor. You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, pacing yourself as you walked to your destination. 

Room 555 

How fitting, you thought. Your knuckles rasped against the door several times.

"Come in." A voice sounded through the door.

You peeked your head around the door before taking a step in the room, not being able to locate the owner of the voice. You gasped after taking the appearance of the room. The room had rose petals haphazardly strewn across the floor. Candles flickered on the dresser, a bubble bath was run in the bathroom, and to top it off, a too cheap bottle of champagne on ice. 

There was clearly an effort made, which made your heart swoon, hoping to put a real face to the man you've been speaking to for the past few months, you said out into the empty room.

"Keigo, I like what you've done with the place. You can come out now," you giggled.

"I'm glad you got the flowers," a raspy voice responded.

.......Huh?

Your joy instantly crushed, having heard Keigo's voice multiple times in the interviews you've seen, it sounded nothing like that. Unless he'd suddenly started chain-smoking within the past few months. A loud alarm started going off in your head. It was definitely time to go.

You twirled on your heels and reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand gripping your upper arm.

"Leaving so soon? The bathwater is still warm…" The mystery voice informed.

"Oh… I think I have the wrong room, so sorry about that." You squeaked, attempting to reach the door again only to be dragged into a bony chest. 

Your chin was tilted, forcing you to meet eyes with "Keigo." Who was actually a porcelain-skinned tower of a man with shaggy white hair that had an oddly familiar look to him? 

"Let me go! You're not Keigo!" You screamed, hoping to alert any other guests on the floor.

"Fucking took you long enough. I thought you were smarter than those other bitches on campus. Tomura balked, struggling to keep you still in his grasp.

Campus. That's where you recognized the face and voice of your captor, you were both in the same Comp Sci class, and you'd often caught him staring as you worked, chalking it up to you having something on your face or in your teeth. The realization caused tears to spurt from your eyes.

"Poor baby, didn't mommy and daddy teach you to not speak to strangers on the internet?"

"I-I thought y-you were K-Keigo," you gasped, struggling to control your sobs. 

"Well, I'm not. Get over it." Tomura slurred, placing sloppy kisses over your collar bone, slowly backing you towards the bed. 

You couldn't bring yourself to move or fight anymore, body stiff with fear. Your sobs increase in volume after feeling your legs make contact with the edge of the bed. You didn't know this man from a can of paint, and here he is about to assault you. 

"Stop crying before I leak those sexy little videos you shared with "Keigo." Imagine if everyone in the class knew how much of an easy slut you are?" Tomura hissed, shoving you unto the stiff mattress, springs squeaking as you bounced. 

You cradled your mouth, struggling to stifle your sobs. Why hadn't you recognized the signs sooner? You spent so much time looking at the situation through rose-colored lenses that you had utterly neglected your safety. But it wasn't the time to feign sympathy for yourself. You needed to take action, and soon—the shaggy haired stranger dragging your motionless body towards the end of the headboard. 

"Wait!" You gasped, hoping that you could possibly reason with your captor.

"What's your name? 

This was your final chance to escape. You suddenly kicked forward, aiming for his face, failing miserably as it was blocked. Both legs were then shoved into a mating press, granting Tomura the space to press himself even closer to you.

A groan left Tomura's mouth, frotting against your clothed mound, smothering your neck with sloppy saliva drenched kisses. You cowered at the feeling, curling away from his advances. The dry humping continued until a final groan of desperation was released. He was too grown for this shit and didn't feel like going home with stained boxers when your sweet heat was right in front of him.

The red bodycon dress you decided on was shredded down the middle, leaving you in your lingerie set. You added that to the list of things you were already regretting, moving to cover yourself the best you could. Your efforts to preserve the crumb of modesty you had left were futile, both hands knocked out of the way.

"You don't have to hide princess, I think Christmas came early.” “You're wrapped so pretty, baby." He chuckled, moving to fondle your breasts. Taking the time to pinch and pull at both nipples, drawing small hesitant gasps. 

"I'll play with these more later. You don't know how long I've waited to play with that cute little pussy in person." You felt your panties tugged to the side, embarrassed with the amount of arousal accumulated below. The feeling was soon replaced with horror after feeling the tip of his cock dragged between your slit.

Tomura used the residual slick to grease his cock, bypassing the need to stretch you out. He pressed forward, forcing himself inside, pausing to catch his breath. Damn... it's been a long time. 

You yelped in pain, closing your eyes in hopes of blocking out the situation at hand. You felt him start to pick up his pace, causing small tinges of pain to course through your body. 

"Mmmm, open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you." He gasped, realizing you hadn't complied yet, he landed a firm slap on your cheek. "Not only are you dumb, but you're also deaf too… open. SMACK your. SMACK fucking. SMACK eyes." 

Your eyes shot open, brimming with tears, finding yourself face to face with your captor. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, dainty white lashes framing the lids, traces of dry patches on his face. He wasn't ugly. You'd honestly give him a chance if he asked you out like a decent human being.

His pace had gained traction, hips crashing against yours. You found yourself slowly succumbing to the pleasure, discreetly fucking yourself against him. You wanted to protest and resist against him, but with your inhibitions lowered, you found it hard to comply. Each thrust pulling you further into the abyss that was your impending orgasm. Your lust-filled thoughts being interrupted by the stranger's incoherent mumbling.

"Tomura."

"Huh?" you whimpered, not fully understanding what he said. 

"My name is Tomura."

"Okay and mine i-"

"Shut up and say my name." Tomura's thrusts were sporadic, signaling his impending climax. "Beg me to cum…... please." 

You barely registered the final demand, not recognizing the soft tone of his voice.

"T-tomura, p-please let me cum!" you begged, right on edge needing something, anything to push you over.

Two nimble, callused fingers drew delicate circles over your clit, forcing you to writhe and sob as your orgasm coursed through your body. The feeling that followed was one of warmth as Tomura came, slowing his thrusts until he collapsed, encasing you in his arms.

Your eyes fluttered shut with your post-orgasm haze lulling you to sleep until a wet, sticky substance trickled along your inner thigh... 

What the fuck....

You nearly launched yourself from the bed, fighting to separate yourself from your captor's arms.  

"What is wrong with you?"

"You didn't use a condom," you wailed, tears perched at the corner of your eyes. You didn't have the time for a child, you were doing great in classes, your parents would reject you, you'd be stuck playing house with some stranger and-

"Stop muttering. You're fucking up my nap. I'll buy a Plan B when I wake up." Tomura mumbled into the pillow, dragging you back into his chest.

You continued to fight his grasp, pausing after feeling a firm pinch to your side. Fighting was futile at this point, and you couldn't fully assess the situation until you had some decent sleep. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds wouldn't hurt…right?

[yelenasdog]

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong. 

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-“

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.  

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

--------------------- 

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile- 

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳) 

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj