#like me too bitch maybe try writing a book the old fashioned way? If you actually like writing??

[buildarocketboys]

Ugh the woman on the table next to me at nandos is talking about writing a book with AI, like she sounds like she's actually writing a book with AI and planning to try and publish it (lol good luck with that), meanwhile, I'm sat here like 😡😡😡

[jisungscaramel]

vexation | hyunjin

❀ genre; smut, college au, enemies au  ❀ pairing; hyunjin x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 2.7k 

[warning] strong language, explicit sexual content, dry humping, (mild) begging, hate sex

There it was: Hwang Hyunjin, name beautifully printed right above yours. You shuddered in complete disgust, not believing that you were paired with him of all people for your history presentation. There were 34 students in the class; that meant you had a whopping 97% chance of being paired with literally anyone else, but no. Your professor, Dr. Zhang, just had to pair you with him. 

Overachiever: that was an understatement. He was the type to want all of the glory for the taking, the type to enjoy making others feel like they were dumb, the type who had no issue in forsaking common morals for his own gain. 

You couldn’t fucking stand him. 

Begrudgingly, you stood up from your original seat, trudging your feet to sit next to him - at your professor’s instruction, of course. You planned on at least being polite, and you thought for a second that he might do the same, but he didn’t even bother looking at you, staring through to the front of the room, eyes stoic. If he was trying to provoke you, it was definitely working. 

You dropped your backpack to the ground, unceremoniously, sound drowning in the increasing levels of chatter in the small lecture hall, but clearly loud enough to make his composure teeter; his head jerked back a millimeter, a minuscule gesture but it was painfully obvious to you. And you let out an equally obvious slew of snickers before sitting back in the seat, neck meeting the old frayed fabric as you tilted your head back, arms stacking on one another as you folded them, woman spreading to occupy more real estate than you actually required.

You had to at least try to keep yourself amused. 

Hyunjin began scribbling mindlessly on a blank piece of paper - still acting as if you were not even there. 

He slammed the white sheet down on your knee, sending vibrations straight up your leg rather rudely. 

Asshole. 

Oh, baby, he hadn’t even started yet. 

“Okay. We’re doing our paper on I-Hotel and… I’m gonna write it. All you have to do is find these books for me at the library.” He turned to look at you with a very aggravating smirk… maybe you’d notice the tiniest hint of flirtation if the feeling of overwhelming irritation didn’t encompass you. 

But the chance passed when his countenance morphed into counterfeit concern, tapping his chin in contemplation for added effect, “although, I think the library’s computer system is down… I guess you gotta find them the old-fashioned way.” God, you just wanted to smack that smug grin right off his face. “I’d love to help you with that... but I’m just too busy…” It should’ve been illegal for intolerable people to be that gorgeous.

You blinked in complete confusion. “Ummm… excuse me?” 

“I’m… sorry… do… I… need… to … talk… slower…?”

You gingerly picked up the piece of paper, promptly getting up from your chair, glaring at him. You made sure your backpack was secure on your shoulder before dramatically lifting the note in front of his face to tear what he wrote to shreds, scattering the bits over his laptop’s keyboard. “Stick a motherfucking cactus up your ass.” 

You stormed out of that hall with your head high, not daring to look back despite your innate desire to see his response - you were sure it was priceless. 

‘I’ll just have to do this damn thing on my own.’

Oh, if it could only be that simple. 

The first thing that popped up on your laptop when you opened it from the safety of the library was an unexpected email. 

Since you ripped up my list - rather rudely I might add - I’ve attached the list of the books I require. I will be at the library at four PM sharp. Please plan accordingly. Hyunjin 

“Fuck.” 

‘Plan accordingly,’ your ass, according to you, your plan was to minimize the amount of time you had to spend dealing with Hyunjin, and you had been 100% sure he had the same sentiment… so much for that. 

Speaking of the devil, as soon as you decided to dismiss his outlandish request and settle in to get some of your research started, Hyunjin yanked your attention away from your laptop with merely his presence, almost as if your nerves were hypersensitive to his saccharine dipped aura, and most definitely not to the signature sway of his frame as he walked. 

You didn’t dare grant him the luxury of your direct gaze. Instead, you kept a close eye on him in your peripheral, hoping you’d blend in with the people around you… but there was still at least a 92% chance he’d see you.

“Did you get my sources?” and now he was right in front of you, nothing but a measly table in between. 

Your nostrils flared in an effort to not retort back at Hyunjin, eyes still fixed on your screen in a successful attempt to ignore him. 

Then he pushed your laptop closed, hand planted firmly on the device rather invasively. “Excuse me, I’m talking to you.”

You gritted your teeth, tilting your head up in a menacing stare, eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you want?” 

God, you didn’t know his smile could get more fake than it already was. “I told you to get my sources for me,” his tone was exaggeratedly slow, “did you get my sources?” 

You shoved his hand away from your laptop. “Get your own sources.” 

Immediately his fake smile turned into a sincere snicker, rolling his eyes off to the side. “Uptight bitch.” 

His words sank in for a moment. “You wanna say that again?” 

He leaned over the table, face a mere six inches from yours. “Uptight,” you could feel your fists involuntarily clenching, digging into your palms what would soon be prominent crescents in a matter of seconds, “bitch.” 

You almost raised your palm to gratuitously slap him across the face but the simmering mellowness in you kept a tight grasp of your boiling anger. You leaned back in your seat in an effort to widen the physical gap (or the lack thereof) between you. “Fuck off.”

<><><><><><> 

“Hyunjin, y/n, can you both come down to the podium,” Dr. Zhang added at the end of his lecture, halting your plans to b-line straight to the library. 

As the aisles began to empty, you made your way down the steps to the front of the room, purposefully standing at the side opposite of Hyunjin, frankly paying no mind to him for all intents and purposes. 

Your professor glanced between you two, clearly noticing the oddity of the image but purposefully choosing to ignore it. 

“I noticed that both of you submitted first drafts for your paper, and at first I thought it was an accident, until I opened both files and realized you’re writing completely separate papers. Care to explain?” 

“Yeah y/n, care to explain?” What a fucking dicktard. 

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you wracked your brain for some feasible excuse. “Well,” but nothing came to mind… oh fuck it, “we’ve had issues working with each other.” 

Dr. Zhang raised an eyebrow cautiously. “Elaborate.”

“We really don’t get along.”

He sighed, crossing his arms. “Well you’re gonna have to try to find some middle ground. I’ll give you two a second chance to put a first draft together. If you can submit a collaborative piece by midnight, I’ll still give you full credit for that part. If not, it stays as a zero. Subsequently, you will keep getting zeroes for the following checkpoints if you submit them separately. Any questions?” 

“No, sir,” much to your surprise, that was the first moment thus far wherein both you and Hyunjin were on the same wavelength. 

“Good, that is all.” 

You felt like two negatively charged magnets as you walked side by side up the aisle to the exit. “I’m not getting a zero for this,” Hyunjin spoke up. 

You rolled your eyes. “At least we can agree on that.”

As the cold, crisp air of the outside refreshed your nerves, he lightly gripped your shoulder, swerving you to face him. “Look, I know we’re like oil and water, but I’m willing to at least try to get along for the grade.” His fingers trembled on your shoulder; his teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip, eyes searching yours for a sign of truce. 

Needless to say, the sentiment from him was unexpected. You exhaled deeply, brushing his hand from you. “Fine.”

<><><><><><><> 

But two hours spent alone in a library study room proved to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Trying to work together felt like pulling teeth - a true collaboration of absolute vexation.  

“What about this passage?” You pointed to some text in a book you were sifting through. 

He swiveled his chair around, only looking at your find for a solid half a second before, turning back around. “Nah, that’s not good enough to use as evidence.” 

“What the fuck, Hyunjin? You didn’t even read it.”

“I didn’t have to. I assumed whatever you found was as subpar as everything else you’ve ‘found.’”

You dropped the book on the table with a loud plonk, partially in shock at what he said and partially due to a natural tendency to want to irritate him. “Well let’s see what you ‘found,’” leaning over the table in a relaxed manner, carrying a dash of nonchalance as you scrolled through his writing. “You call this good evidence?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” You wanted to laugh at his defensive tone. 

“It’s obvious that you’re framing your own narrative by taking shit outta context. Not to mention all the ellipses and brackets are terrifically horrendous, visually. You’re taking literally all the credibility out.” 

“What do you know? I doubt you even read that article,” he dismissed your legitimate critique in a manner you unfortunately predicted. 

“As a matter of fact, I did… two. hours. ago. And you told me the article didn’t seem ‘reliable’ enough for you, but here you are… you must think I’m fucking stupid.” 

The side of his lips curved up in the slightest smirk. “Not true, I think you’re annoyingly absentminded.” 

You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past minute, whispering, “fucking cockmaggot,” under your breath, diverting your attention back to your screen. 

“What did you just say?” His tone suggested he wasn’t being rhetorical - he really didn’t hear you. There was something cute and innocent about his ignorance, the way his lips formed a subtle pout unintentionally, nose wrinkling in distaste. You mentally shook the image from your head, cursing yourself for thinking he was… ‘cute’ to begin with. 

“Nothing, My Liege, nothing at all,” mocking sarcasm spilled from your lips as you parted them to give them a disapproving smack. “This is complete shit; we can’t submit this.”

Hyunjin slammed his laptop closed, standing up abruptly. The action took you by surprise, making your neck shudder in a startle. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?” Pent up rage was slathered all over his face, eyes twitching, eyebrows tightly knitting together, jaw unhinging from an excess of epinephrine. 

His anger diffused to you, violently charging your nerves. There was no way you were just gonna take his shit sitting down. “Why do you,” you stood up, chair rocking back from the velocity of your limbs, “have to be,” you turned around and gripped his collar with both hands, “such an insufferable asshole?” 

He was dumbfounded, wordless much to your satisfaction, but his eyes were unwavering, devoid of reaction. The time you spent stabbing each other with your unfaltering gazes felt like a goddamn eternity, tension coarse, sinfully tangible on your skin. 

It was fucking stifling. 

Before you even realized what was happening, your lips were latched together in a fervent frenzy, tension thickening for an entirely different reason now. 

There was something so breathtaking about the way his lips tightened against yours - literally. It felt like he was siphoning your soul from your body - any thought that dared to grace your mind oddly dissolved into nothingness as Hyunjin molded your lips into submission, tongue colonizing your oral cavity in an authoritative manner that was so in character for him. 

Not that you gave a fuck. 

His hands aggressively tugged at your waist; the impact of your body crashing onto his sent pangs up your spine, and in seconds, your back thudded against the wall, maintaining the momentum. You had to grip his shoulders purely for support, and definitely not because you were immersing in the moment.

You felt his grip loosen as his hands roamed downward, playfully drawing patterns on your skin with his fingers en route. And then they constricted around your thighs, lifting them up to his hips, and you hooked your ankles around his back as if it was the natural thing to do. 

The fabric of his pants became taut around the building frustration underneath, becoming oh so apparent to you when he started steady grinding against the thin fabric of your underwear - why did you have to wear a skirt today of all days?

You passed a reluctant whimper through his lips, wholly unable to deny the way your pulsing desire radiated heat through your core at the increasing friction. 

You broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Hyunjin…” you whispered almost breathlessly, desperation filling you as he continued his tantalizing test of your patience. 

“Hmmm?” There it was: that signature smug grin, but by this point, your senses were too preoccupied to even register it. 

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Is that so?” He lifted you off the wall, pushing your laptops to either side so he could lay you on the table, spreading your legs to give him clear sight of your dampening sex. He snickered. “You look much better like this…” While ghosting one hand around your inner thighs, conveniently avoiding the place you needed him the most, he undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other, sliding them down to his knees. 

You found yourself licking your lips at the silhouette of his bulge, now more prominent with less restricting fabric. Of course, he noticed; “so these are you true colors… I never would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” He brushed his fingers over the waistband of your underwear. “Where do you need me?” He pressed his thumb on your clit, “here?” 

Your teeth pressed down on your lips in an effort to stifle a moan. “Yes…” and even though you were successful the first time, there was no stopping the sounds from seeping through your lips when Hyunjin slammed his clothed erection on you once more, picking up exactly where he left off just moments ago. 

“Please, Hyunjin…” he pushed your thighs further apart, keeping them in place. 

“‘Please,’ what?” 

“I need you inside me, please.” 

His sinister laugh filled the small room. “I don’t know if you deserve it.” 

“Fucking asswipe.” 

“Now that doesn’t sound very convincing…” 

You groaned in pleasurable displeasure. “Hyunjin… please, I’m begging you. I really can’t take this.” 

“Don’t you care if someone tries to come in?” He raised an eyebrow, partially in curiosity, mostly in amusement. 

You glared right into his eyes. “No.” 

He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he stood back. “Get up.” Any urge you had to defy him before was long gone; you did as he asked and he harshly turned you around by your waist, pushing you toward one of the windows. 

While pushing you down against the glass with one hand, he reached in his front pocket with the other, grabbing a condom. He ripped the packaging with his teeth, skillfully sliding his boxers down to slip the vinyl over him. 

Not wanting to wait any longer, you aided him by pulling your panty down leaving yourself completely exposed for his taking, and you quickly pushed your hands on the glass, bracing yourself for the next few seconds, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that stretch that came. Your wrist slid down on the window pane to bite back a scream. 

“So tight.” 

 ><><><><><><><

A/N I’mma be honest: I had a fucking field day coming up with all those weird insults

[lady-literature]

A Miraculous DC Crossover

ALL RIGHT!!

I’ve been sucked into this unholy sub-fandom and I have thoughts okay? lots of them. Almost none are coherent and I don’t care. I have no plotline to write a fic but by the gods do I need to get out all my ideas.

Behold:

the Salttm

Lila, obviously. But she’s a petty nuisance at best, and an annoyingly competent akuma to fight at worst. manipulative, but not really dangerous ya feel?

Alya. which like, home girl probably doesn’t deserve but like,,, the drama??

CHLOE REDEMPTION YOU COWARDS

She and Marinette become surprisingly good friends (because I love that for both of them and you can pry it from me cold, dead hands)

Nettie-bug and Queenie

They pick on Adrien together

Mari’s friends Protection Squad That Don’t Take No Shit

Adrien

Chloe

NINO BITCH HE DESERVES MORE LOVE TBH

Alix?? Probably

Luka obvi

Felix (PV)?? Or does Marinette have enough emotionally constipated boys in her life?

(Answer: no. no she does not.)

Nath? He be a good fox tbh. creative and sneaky boi

Kagami!!! I love her

They’re all heroes because I say so.

Felix (Sparrow) is an honorary member even though he doesn’t have a miraculous

He handles PR and other background things along with Chloe

Joined up a few years back when Parisians were getting a bit too critical of the heroes

No Hawkmoth b/c fuck that guy

He existed, just not anymore. Bitch got yeeted

There’s other villains in town now. After Hawkmoth’s defeat other metas/supervillains looked at Paris and was just like, ‘free real estate?”

So now the Miraculous Team are Paris’ Actual Full-Time Hero TeamTM… yay.

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Abielle (or like, Wasp/Yellow Jacket idk Chloe changes her name because ~identity stuff~) are the core three team. like, the wonder woman/batman/superman trio of the MTeam.

Nath is called Reynard Ambre b/c I love him

The public knows he exists but he’s never seen in battle and no pictures exist.

but there are plenty of instances where Paris knows he out mucking around because those akuma battles always get really weird.

Marinette be the guardian?

Guardian in training

Along with all the other holders b/c jesus. Give the girl a break.

Yeah. I like that Idea. All current holders are training to be guardians as well, but Mari’s going to step up as Guardian Supreme when Fu steps down.

Hero fashion!!!

The Miraculous Team is all decked out in their own merch like 24/7

Rarely is it thier own hero persona tho

Not because of like,,,, secrecy or anything. Just because they’re all nerds who love each other

Marinette is the lead producer of Miraculous Merchandise. It’s like,,, her BrandTM It was completely unintentional too

(Adrien and Chloe financially support her work tho. She designs, makes a prototype, and has her two blondes get others to replicate it)

Half of Paris is wearing her without knowing it

(Go MDC! get it girl!)

She totally makes Gotham inspired outfits because what else would she do????

Don’t get her wrong, most of Gotham’s fashion sense royally pisses her off but it’s fun and hey, supporting her fellow heroes ya know?

She wears a Robin hoodie after being officially acquainted with both Damian and Robin (separately of course)

Damian chokes on something, probably his own tongue.

It confuses Nettie. But then she thinks maybe he’s a fan too? She offers to make one for him but he steadfastly refuses much to his brothers’ amusement.

Might make a robin themed dress?? If so, she crosses paths with Robin when she does, thoroughly embarrassing her and almost sending poor Dami into a crisis.

Rogues Gallery

She makes a lot of designs off the rouges gallery because like, supporting people trying to get better??? also they’re some of the few who’s aesthetic aint shit?

She can’t make all of them because she ran out of time, so the rest get posited up on her Instagram and MDC blog (that’s run by Tikki mostly. She’s a great secretary and gets bored in Mari’s purse all the time)

Everyone is very flattered

Harley, if she ever finds it, immediately commission all pieces and wears them around Gotham don’t @ me

Daminette obvi

Marinette meets him and is just like ‘wow, you’re horrible. I want five’

Marinette, in the group chat later: so I met Kagami and Felix’s love child today

Kagami and Felix, seconds apart: I would never stoop so low

immediately after: Hey what the fuck? Rude

Nino: Nettie, dearest, sunshine, light of our collective lives and reason I breathe, what the fuck

Adrien: Kagami, my love, how could you? the Betrayal

Chloe: ew

Luka: Send pics or it didn’t happen

Nath: [insert the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Whenever they cross paths as Robin and Mari, he’ll just like,,, appear from nowhere hanging upside down spiderman style. Mari finds it endearing but she also wants him to stop scaring the shit out of her

Nicknames, because I have an unhealthy obsession with them, alright?

Misc Mari names: Bug, Bugaboo, Buginette, Madame President/Colonel (when the Team’s being cheeky), Princess, Marigold, Nettie (by like, Nino and Alix)

Jason calls her Pixie-pop

The bird boys call her Nightingale/Mockingbird in like, honor of her being a kickass civillian

Mari refers to them as ‘the flock’ (and bird-brains after getting to know them better)

Damian calls her: Starling, Habibti, ya qamar(my moon), malaki (angel), ya wardati(my flower) (b/c like, angel’s cute an all but I just think Damian’s way more dramatic than that tbh. he’d put thought into his nicknames)

Mari calls Damian: mon soleil (my sunshine) (because symmetry and also Mari thinks she’d hilarious), Birdie, petit oiseau/oisillon

I like the idea of Jagged being a native Gothamite tbh

it’s just so fun honestly???

He’s probably the reason the MTeam are in Gotham in the first place? maybe? anyway, the class is there, right? right. 

Kagami, Luka and Felix are all holding the fort down in Paris. Ain't no akumas but sometimes they need backup so when certain heroes need to disappear, Nath has Trixx set up an illusion of whichever one so they can slip away with the horse miraculous.

Mari’s the one who has to leave the most because she’s still Paris’ damage control, so like,,,,, ya know.

Mari doesn’t get left behind, at least not on the first day b/c come on people! She has plenty of friends in class watching out for her and a semi-competent teacher who does care even if she’s non-confrontational to a fault.

She does eventually become separated from the group. Half because of Lila and half because she’s always fucking late and got distracted.

She actually runs into one of the civilian batfam in the first place because the class was allowed an hour or so to wander around the shopping district or whatever to explore/buy things/get food. They just needed to return to the meetup spot at a certain time but Mari is like ten minutes away when it’s five minutes to the meetup

So she’s just… fucking booking it and completely takes out this trained vigilante without trying to.

Mari, as she’s groaning on the ground, tangled around a boy: By Kwamii, I thought my luck was supposed to be good Tikki.

That or like, the subway doors close before she can get on them and the rest of the class ends up ahead of her leaving her to get caught up on some bullshit in the next train or smth.

Oh, like. Of course it’s her train that gets held hostage. Wonderful.

(Later, Mari will rant at Tikki about her luck. A common conversation between the two tbh.)

This could be where she officially meets the Batfam as the Batfam. Or, like. A couple of em, at least.

Marinette getting serial adopted by the whole goddamn batfamily because i will die for this trope tbh i dont even care

The Robins nickname her Nightingale before they realize she’s Ladybug

They still call her that after but it’s not with the intention of making it her hero name anymore

Her and Alfred are def bros you don’t understand

Actually, Gina and Alfred are old friends. Mari totally knows Alfie before the bat fam and calls him Poppy/Pépé

which floors the batfam because what? Since when does that happen???

Alfred and Mari never, like, actually met in person before, but video chats exist and Gina def talks about the two to each other so it’s like they may as well know each other.

I also like the idea of Alfred being a former holder, probably the peacock. I would adore that

Just,,,, so many fun hero shenanigans

Yeah sure. The batfam are super detectives and have a history of figuring out people’s identities in no time at all. Whatever. Where’s the drama in that though? The showmanship?

Fuck canon, the Miraculous all have glamours because magic bitch and it plays fucking hell on the Batfam and all their shit

Every single Batfam member is simultaneously pulling their hair out because they don’t know who these heroes are???? Why can they figure them out?? Confusion???????

Miraculous team is just…. Straight up laughing at them. The poor dears.

That one gag where it’s a well-known secret that Mari has connections to every Parisian hero and is basically their own personal catering service/comfort place.

Also, it’s the worst kept secret in Paris that Mari is Multimouse

None of the MTeam have confirmed that rumour but they also don’t deny it.

they actually started the rumour. If all of Paris thinks Mari’s the mouse, a temporary hero, no one’s going to think she’s Ladybug/or that she’s an easy target to go after

chloe actually came up with that one

Mari meeting all of Damian’s ‘associates’ (ie pets)

She adores all of them and they her.

Especially GOLIATH, why isn’t he talked about more honestly???? He’s GREAT

She meets Goliath as Ladybug and Robin is just… so done with him??? You are supposed to be a fearsome beast and a professional why are you rolling over and expoSING YOUR STOMACH??? Meanwhile, Ladybug is just: Awww! Who’s a good boy? Who’s the best boy? You are! Look at how handsome you are! Cute widdle baby-

Miraculous Team hanging on the roof of their hotel kinda chilling

Maybe having a debate about doing some free-running/parkour?

Also maybe about whether or not they should be heroes while in Gotham

MT being like, why can’t we go and stop an armed robbery? we can help!

“Gotham already has very active heroes-”

“Vigilantes!”

“-whatever. I don’t want us stepping on any toes. This isn’t our terf and Batman’s known for being strict about Metas rolling around here.”

“We aren’t Metas though.”

“I don’t think he’ll enjoy splitting that particular hair, Nino. Just- not unless lives are at stake, okay? Emergencies only.”

“Yes, Colonel Ladybug.”

This debate most def gets crashed by batfam and confusion ensues upon both sides

batfam didn’t hear anything, they’re just really confused about these french kids hanging out on a roof in Gotham

Just.... yes. all of that. I have like, more but those are not organized or even remotely coherent. here you go! I might write for this but I already have other fics rn so... it wouldn’t be for a while. and as I said, I have no plot.

take this though, i guess. *throws confetti*

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Of Bad Beer and Summer Nights. #Writer Wednesday 04/28/21 Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: it’s just another summer day at the pool. Sunbathing before your shift starts, the day changes drastically when you cannot take your eyes off a handsome stranger.

Warning: mention of alcohol and swearing. NSFW +18 SMUT (oral and p in v sex)

Paring: Javier Peña x F! reader

A/N: Another take on the #Writer Wednesday challenge by @autumnleaves1991-blog !!

Not me basing all this on the label of the beer that’s shown on the cans and my obsession with Javier Peña and his ridiculous fashion choices. This is the first thing I write with a little spice on it and I’m still not that comfortable but we’re getting there. Not beta’d and my eyes are burning so I have read it just once so if they’re any mistakes, misspellings and bad grammar I’m really sorry.

Of bad beer and summer nights

The kids’ screams from the pool muffles the tunes of some old ranchera blasting from the bar’s stereo. The old guard of retire men gather around the plastic white tables drinking cold beer and playing dominoes and you lower your book, sunbathing under this blazing sun, and smile; this is your childhood, your home and even that you had convinced yourself that you were done with this, that you wanted to run away, this speaks to your nostalgia and the fondest memories you own.

The heat makes you lazy and your stretch your body feeling your bones as if they were made of jelly. You drop the book on your stomach; you were not actually paying too much attention to it anyway and look around the pool: kids running around with water guns, angry mothers trying to control them and the men on the bar. Usually they’re around 70 or plus on average, they occupy their usual spot under the parasols early in the morning and spend their time doing their retirement routine: newspaper, same old conversation and complain about the world, beer and dominoes, until it’s time to eat or to switch their drink to coffee. But today a tall, lean, brown haired man is breaking the age median. He’s younger and stands out not only for his strong physic but because he wears a bright pink shirt and some yellow aviators and the tightest jeans you’ve seen on a man. You’re sure you’d question anybody else’s fashion choice if they were wearing that, but surprisingly, it fits him, probably because he exudes confidence, maybe it’s his broad shoulders, maybe it’s his golden skin revealed by the way–too-much-unbuttoned shirt he wears, maybe it’s his dark hair or his striking features or maybe it’s because of his dark coffee brown eyes that are fixed on you. His eyes. Shit.

You were so absorbed looking at him that you didn’t realize he had taken off his glasses and it’s now seated facing the pool and you from the bar. He smirks when you try, ungracefully, to grab your book back, the paper is stuck to your skin since you had spread it generously with tanning oil. The pages are ruined but you actually don’t care, you just open it before your eyes and try to conceal that you were looking at him like a creep. After a few minutes, you raise the novel just enough to see if he's looking but he's gone. Disappointed, you turn to the other side and let the sun bronze your skin and achieve that serene state that you had before he arrived at the pool.

"Hey, you, burnt sloth, it's time" somebody pokes on your shoulder

"Burnt sloth, seriously?" You say, you feel your mouth is dry and your brain is slowly coming back to life "it's my shift already?"

"Yep, actually you're two minutes late" Marisa grabs the elastic of your bikini bottom and pulls it and lets it go until it slaps your skin

"Ouch! I'm coming" you finally get up

"C'mon, Mr. Garcia has joined the party at the bar, and you'll be late for his speech on the loss of traditional family values" she announces. You glance at the other side of the pool, the old man walks with difficulty towards his retired friends table

"Shit, you do it on purpose" you say and Marisa smirks "my shift always starts when there's one of the annoying customers time to arrive, that's not fair"

"Is there anybody attending the bar?!" You both turn to see Mr. Garcia raising his cane and screaming at you

"I'm coming" you answer, grabbing your jean shorts and the white shirt with staffwritten on it. You toss your clothes on over your bikini and run towards the bar.

"Sorry, Mr. Garcia, the usual?" You ask while tying up your apron

"Yes, please. This is what's wrong with this country now the youth has lost the will to work hard to really make an effort…"

Even his friends roll their eyes, but you know it will be a minute until he finishes the list of bad things he wants to rant about.

Marisa has occupied your deck chair and winks at you while she spreads her sun cream. Bitch you mutter towards her and she smiles and lays back.

The rest of your shift consists in ignoring Mr. Garcia and looking at Marisa with jealousy. When the sun is almost gone she joins you on the counter.

"I'll have until Jack comes to pick me up, I thought you needed some company" she says bending herself over the bar to grab a glass

"Yeah, now that they're about to leave, how convenient" you point to the old men table "what do you want?"

"Beer please"

You take two ice cold cans and serve hers on her glass while you keep yours under the wood counter

“Tomorrow you will take my shift by the way" you say leaning on the fridge

"Nope" she says having a sip of her drink

"You wanna bet?" You counter knowing that she likes to play. She thinks about it for a second but when you open the cards box and leave the deck in front of her she nods

"Just for tomorrow though" Marisa shakes your hand and you distribute the cards between you two.

You try to focus on the game, she's better than you and you really don't want to take another shift like this. But all your concentration leaves your body once you see out of the corner of your eyes, a pink bright shirt and a tall figure.

"Hi, are you ready Pops?" He says, his voice is deep while he gently taps on one of the old men at the table

"No, give me a minute, I'm actually winning for once" he says laying one of the domino pieces on the table

"Right" he smiles warmly at him and you think he couldn't be more handsome but he actually approach the counter and now, looking at him closer he’s even more attractive

“Can I have a beer please?” he asks taking a seat on a stool. You nod and grab one from the fridge.

He examines the golden can with an arched eyebrow “Don’t you have a bud?”

“No, we only have calidad (quality) and let me warn you that the title is actually ironic” you answer, for a second you hope he doesn’t actually get mad at your little joke but he smiles widely “I trust you then, I won’t take my chances with this so... can I have a whiskey then?” he pass you the can and you turn to put it back on the fridge and glance over the bottles you have. All of them are the cheapest labels on the market, but you know your boss reserves some good old Jack Daniels well hidden and you crouch down to get it from the back of the utilities cupboard.

“I don’t know if I want that drink either if you took it from where you keep the cleaning stuff” he laughs

“Don’t worry, it’s legit, it’s my boss’s. He doesn’t want to expend one cent on the clients but for himself...that’s another thing” you pour him the amber liquor and you cannot help but notice that he’s looking at you intently

“You don’t serve whiskey often, right?” he gets closer and almost whispers it in your ear

“Why?” you ask and raise your head suddenly realizing that you’re really close. His scent is intoxicating, some fresh body wash and the musk of his cologne mixed with the whiskey you’re serving him

“Normally you will serve just two or three fingers” he explains putting two of his fingers on the glass so you can see what he means, the glass is half full.

“Shit” you stop pouring and leave the bottle on the counter while he chuckles

“Either that or you’re really generous or I’m and excellent costumer” he jests

“You are!” you respond right away and you clear your throat once you realize how stupid it sounded “or I’m a terrible waitress, I think that’s more probable”

“Agreed!” Marisa claims, you actually forgot about her

“I don’t think so” he shakes his head “You were really honest about the quality of the beer, you could have just gave me that trash and say nothing”

“Well, I’m drinking one while working, I keep it hidden under the counter and I’m gambling with my friend to see if I can change my shift for hers tomorrow” you confess, he looks amused at you

“What shift is that?” he asks

“Morning, there’s none” Marisa answers

“You actually cannot take that shift” he looks at you now

“Why?” you say puzzled

“Because you’re busy tonight, probably will arrive late and you should sleep” he sips his whiskey and you still observe him not understanding

“I’m not...”

Marisa smack her lips “she’s clueless”

“I see” he smiles again, that damn smile “at what time do you close?”

“She’ll be off at seven” Marisa answers and you turn your head from one to the other like you’re watching a tennis game you don’t really understand

“What are you...”

“He’s asking you out, dummie” Marisa rolls her eyes at you with a frustrated grunt

“Oh!”

“If it’s alright for you unless you really want that early morning shift” he looks at you from under his lashes and you don’t know how a man like that can be smoldering hot one minute and this cute the next

“She’s going!” Marisa answers before you could make your mind

“Wait, I have nothing to wear and I have to...”

“There’s a dress on my locker, the code is 6754 and I don’t trade my shift anyway, you don’t have excuses” a car horns from the door “That’s Jack, don’t take no for an answer!” she points to the man running towards her boyfriend’s car.

“There’s no pressure, if you don’t want to...”

“No, I want to, really” you say focusing on the stains on your apron

“I’m Javi by the way” he smiles fondly and raises his hand, you respond with your name and shake it

“Really nice to meet you” you say softly

“Let’s go, son, this damned dominoes are jinxed!” his father walks out from the table gathering a few laughs and jokes from his friends

Javi reaches from his wallet when Mr. Garcia raises his cane again “Don’t let him pay, anything he had it’s on me”

You look at him confused and Javier, for the first time in your brief acquaintance looks shy and actually uncomfortable. He thanks the man and walks to his father about to leave the place

“I’ll pick you up at seven” he says, winking at you

“Can we have the check young lady or do we have to do it ourselves” Mr. Garcia gets you out of your daydreaming and you rush to clean up and say goodbye to the old loyal customers before they leave you alone to close.

You don’t actually have time to do much, just shower and look inside Marisa’s locker hoping for the best. You find a white summer dress and some flat sandals that fit you, you try your best with your hair and the little make up you have in your bag. And you wait for Javi to arrive.

He’s punctual, arriving just on time on his pick up car.

“Hi”

“Hi” he has changed for another bright shirt, this time blue that matches his skin perfectly. He wears those yellow sunglasses and the same tight jeans and you cannot believe that you actually think it’s the most gorgeous a man has look ever. You staring more that you should again, how the muscles on his forearm tense and relax while driving

“We’re going outside Laredo, if you don’t mind” he says eventually

“It’s fine by me, unless you’re planning to kill me and leave me in the middle of nowhere” you shot

“No, I’m not planning to do that” he chuckles

He takes you to one of those big restaurants outside the city with live music and the best BBQ you’ve ever tasted. The conversation flows nicely even if you have to slap yourself sometimes because you continue to stare in a very obvious way.

“So, why did Mr. Garcia pay for your drink?” you ask after while “He never does one kind thing for nobody, are you a celebrity or something?” you joke

“You actually don’t know?” he drinks from his beer and he has a curious look on him

“No, are you famous?”

He makes a gesture with his hand “Mmm more or less”

“I go every weekend to the movies so it’s certainly not movies” you guess and you place your hand on your chin “Singing? Do you sing rancheras? it’s the only thing he likes so... c’mon sing!”

“You don’t want to hear that”

“Okay, so it’s not singing” you bite your lip trying to come up with something “are you one of those dude’s that do that thing with the lasso” and you mimic the gesture

“A professional cowboy?” he laughs out loud “No, nothing really artistic about my fame”

“Okay” you reflect on what he said and after a few minutes you slap the table “I got it! You’re actually a very famous mobster and Mr. Garcia owes you money, always thought he had some shady business going on”

“Do I look like a mobster?” he laughs

“No! I don’t mean it like that”

“But you thought about it”

“It’s just...” you stutter

“What?”

“You exude confidence, you look cocky and very sure of yourself kinda like you own the place when you walk in and people do what you say” you explain blushing “dangerous and sexy” the beer is kicking in harder than you thought and you lean on his shoulder “like you can kill somebody” his amused expression fades and a dark and timid veil covers his face

“Oh shit” you answer “ H-have you?” you murmur, he nods softly and averts his eyes

“Well, if you’re not in jail I guess you are...law enforcement? army?”

“DEA” he responds with a deep breath

“How...how does a DEA agent become famous?”

“I was part of the team that hunted Pablo Escobar” he answers, his arms are crossed on the table and he’s looking down

“Are you kidding?” you gasp “Did you meet him? Are you the one that shot him?”

“I was not even there when it happened and never actually met him”

You can see his eyes glowing and how tense he looks now, all confidence and bravado is gone and he finishes his beer leaving your date in an uncomfortable point

“I’m sorry I brought that up” you brush your hand over his, yours looking small against his “I was joking, I’m obviously clueless about dates and have a big mouth, I’m sorry again”

“No, no” he holds your hand between his warm palms “I really thought you’d heard, that’s why I wanted to take you out from Laredo where everybody brings that up”

You hold your head on your hands “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry”

“Hey, hey!” he takes your hands and brushes his fingers on your chin until you look at him in the eye “It’s not your fault, let’s move on, okay?” his thumb is closer now to your lower lip and you see his eyes lowering until he’s looking at your mouth for a second before he points to the dance floor “Do you dance?”

“Not well”

“Me neither”

“Do we give it a go and make a fool of ourselves?” he asks holding your hand and you nod enthusiastically

The people on the dance floor judge you when you actually don’t know the moves that goes with this type of music, but you’re laughing like little kids and you see how he tries to hold you every time he gets the chance, his big hands on your waist, and arm on your lower back that burns like the sun and when finally they change to a slow song, he presses you against his chest and you moan softly when he locks you there with his hands on your back. You reach for his neck and tangle your fingers on his nape.

“I have a confession to make, agent” you whisper on his ear

“Hm?”

“I was looking at you at the pool and hoped that you came back when you left and actually ruined my novel in the process”

“And I was looking back at you and came back to pick up my father when he actually didn’t need it” he responds, his warm breath over your temple, you smile openly and you think your heart could leave your chest in that very moment

“and another thing...”

“Yes?”

“I never actually liked guys with mustache and now all I can think about is how does it feel when you kiss” you hide your face from him feeling his laughter resonate on his chest

“Wanna try?”

You raise your head even though your cheeks burn and your rational brain in screaming that you barely know the guy but then his lips brush over your softly and they’re as soft as they looked, you let him lead you mainly because the sensation is overwhelming and when he gently touches your mouth with his tongue you let him in, you let him taste you and you moan, Javi smiles briefly over your soft expression of pleasure and becomes more eager, hardening the kiss. You don’t know how long you’ve been there but when you break the kiss your head is spinning and you have to hold onto his shoulders

“So?” he says with a cocky smile

“Nice, really nice”

You don’t want this night to end, you park alongside the riverbank in Laredo, he has put down a big blanket on his pickup truck so you’re comfortable seating on it and Javier bought some cold beer at the gas station. The summer night is clear; the moon and stars shine and are reflected on the black waters of the river and you can only hear the soft sounds of the insects and the breeze moving the grass.

“Can I ask you something?” you’re both seated next to each other, swinging your legs until you touch him

“Yes”

“Why did you choose the DEA?”

“I just wanted to get away from here” he shrugs

“You caused too much trouble? Broke too many hearts?” you jest tapping his arm with your elbow

“Why do you say that?” he turns to face you

“You look like someone who could do that” you murmur “Are you going to break my heart?” Now you adjust your position so now you’re both face to face

“I hope not”

You think over his answer, it’s actually pretty honest. You had had promises of eternal love and “never ever going to hurt you” before and then they left you with your heart bleeding and your confidence undermined. So you prefer this, the truth. Neither of you know what’s going to happen, there’s only tonight and that you don’t want to get back to real world. The river, the moon and the two of you on his car are the only thing real, they only thing that exists right now.

You arise on your knees and save the distance between you holding his head on your hand. It’s you who lead the kiss this time and he lets you savor him. He holds your hips and gently pushes you on his lap. You lower your kisses to his jaw and then his neck tasting his perfume mixed with his sweat that it’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about doing since this morning, he emits a guttural moan and you feel your arousal between your thighs. Your hands act faster that you can think and unbuttons his shirt. In the moonlight his skin is soft and it’s splattered in small freckles that you kiss trying to count each one with a touch of your lips.

He doesn’t stay still for much longer and raises your summer dress kneading the skin of your legs, up to your butt and your hips. He separates you from him and you’re about to complain when you feel he’s pushing you softly to the blanket. You lay down taking a deep breath while your gaze at the night sky full of tiny bright dots that reminds you of his skin and how you crave to have him on your lips again.

You raise your head once you feel him touching your calf, his fingers softly trailing over you until he take off your sandals, and when it’s done, he grabs your legs and roam his hands up and down on them until he pulls your legs apart. Javier gets in the space between your legs and without breaking his burning look at your eyes, he takes off his shirt and unbuckles his belt.

“Please” you whisper and reach your hand towards him; he takes it and kisses your palm before bending over you. The hunger you have for his lips is finally over when he kisses you again deep and moaning against your lips.

He mimics what you did earlier and bites your jaw and your neck, scattering kisses over your clavicles. He gets up an instant just to take off your dress and admires you for a second before continuing his kisses where he had left them. You bend your back when your breasts are exposed to the fresh summer air but are immediately cover by his big warm hands and then his mouth graze each one with the most delicious attention kissing and licking your nipples until biting your lip can’t contain your whimpers

“You don’t have to be quite, there’s none” he says liberating your lower lip from your bite with his thumb “Your moans will be only for my ears and I want to listen to every single one of them” he says and leaves a kiss on your sternum before grabbing your waist pressing his face on your stomach and again repeats the action of spattering kisses and soft bites to your skin.

Once he reaches the elastic of your panties he looks at you intently. You’re a moaning mess, squirming under his touch and feeling your flesh ablaze even if the night is actually quite fresh

“Please” you whisper again and he softly raises your hips rolling the lace over your thighs. The midnight air makes you shiver. He kisses again your belly over the tan marks biting gently your hip bones before parting your legs widely.

He softly tortures you avoiding your core. His mouth licking and brushing his teeth on each thigh deeper and deeper and before arriving to the center he changes his position to the other leg

“Javi” you moan

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs, lying on his side he leans his head on your inner right thigh. He’s as gentle as first as he was before leaving tempting kisses on your mount and folds before opening your lips to drink of you eagerly. His moans resonate through your body as an electric current and your nails scratch the blanket bellow. You call his name like a prayer, the pleasure is uncontrollable while you hope for release, he slides his fingers inside you and pumps them upwards and then you are lost in his presence and in the night above you. You hear yourself scream, your conscience is far away.

He hushes you and holds you in his arm and you waste no time in kissing him again, a deep hard kisses in which you pour all your passion and your lust. Your hands act on their own and you reach for his jeans and force them down enough until your palming his cock.

Javi understand your needs and takes down his jeans and underwear rapidly coming back to the position between your thighs. Your eyes are locked on his body admiring how he touches himself and you raise your upper body to caress his chest

“Please Javi I need you”

“Lay down” he orders, his voice is lower now and you quiver “Impatient girl” he smirks

You obey and Javier grabs your hips and he adjusts himself towards your entrance. You open your mouth once he penetrates you but there’s no sound coming out of your lips. He mutters praises for you and bends over to kiss you again. Your tongues intertwine as he’s deep inside of you, burying himself inside and getting out again and again until you’re panting looking for that ecstatic pleasure.

You cover his moans with a deep kiss once he reaches his orgasm and you hold him there. Breathing the scent of the surroundings, your sweat and his combined, you stay there until you’re calm, relaxed, and exhausted in the sweetest way.

“Thank you for not letting me change my shift” you say after a few minutes

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Dew Covered Rose

A/N: So we’re ignoring the fact that I haven’t written in like......two, three months. I honestly just haven’t felt like it, and my brain has been busy thinking about writing, or getting back to my daydreams, or thinking about Midnight. Comfort character tingz. But yeah, I’m bringing Topazi back (i also forgot when juneteenth was, I was supposed to do something for her then, I missed the day, but here I made up for it :) This is mild hurt/comfort, except my OC is tired, not hurt. Also this is probably time to mention that Topazi is a gardener, and goes to clients houses to plant things for them! Enjoy!

Tag List: @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs--are--bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley

Warnings: kinda unsafe driving bc sleep deprivation, brief mentions of nudity, swearing

  Topazi had a bit of a tiring day. The house that she’d been working at had almost no shade. The customers were as nice as they could be.....but it seemed as though every tulip that she planted correctly, they would request it to be put in a different place. Even though there was an extremely limited amount of space that she had to work with. It was very frustrating to her, to be honest. However, she got the job done. It took hours of her digging things back up and wiping sweat off of her face to be happy with the result. She was sure to make sure that everything was as good as it could be before the left for home. Even the thought of having to get back in her car and do something other than cuddle up and or sleep was killing her.

  It was late into the night, and the owl in the front yard stared at her as she pulled into the driveway, eyes barely open. She took multiple deep breaths and rubbed a calloused hand over her face before stepping out of the car, not even bothering to take her tools out of the trunk. She trudged her way into the house, carefully unlocking the door, as to not disturb Klaus, who should’ve been close to sleep, or in bed at that point. She tossed the keys into the bowl by the door, and hung her coat up, silently grimacing at the soreness already developing in her arms. 

  Not having the energy to call out to Klaus, she walked into the kitchen, finding one of the cats on top of the kitchen island, fast asleep. A small smile found its way onto her face as she gently pet it, smoothing down the fur on top of her face. She made her way over to the fridge, which she opened, very slowly, to find leftovers of spaghetti that Klaus had cooked for himself. She could never stand the noodles and sauce together, so she looked around for more things. Canned soup in the pantry....she’d have to heat it up, and she needed something instant. Juice wouldn’t be filling enough. She began to nod off, looking at the fridge once more, and she found a solution that she’d looked over. A sandwich.

“Thank fuck for bread.” she thought to herself as she grabbed the bologna, mayonnaise, and cheese slices from their respective spots before grabbing a knife and paper towel. By the time she put the bread back, her sleep levels had reached almost the maximum, and she began nodding off, head on the side of the fridge. She quickly came to her senses, and trotted back over to the island, joints creaking.

  She sat down on one of the stools on the kitchen island. (”Klaus, I need the stools, if my legs don’t look like a pretzel, I’m not sitting correctly.”) As she took a bite of her sandwich (crust first), her brain decided to shut down temporarily, and she almost fell asleep eating. The suds episode of Spongebob Squarepants, however, prevented her from doing so. She slowly ate the sandwich, grateful for the purpose that it served. After she finished her first bite, however, she completely knocked out. The cat woke up, looking at her owner, before hopping off of the counter, and walking up the stairs.

  Klaus had heard Topazi come home, but it’d been a while since he heard her open the fridge last, so he went to check on her. He avoided Minnie on the steps (as in Minnie Riperton, not the mouse) and walked into the kitchen, to find his lover fast asleep, small snores coming from her mouth. He smiled, almost letting a chuckle past his lips when he realized his task.

 “She looks fucking wasted.” he thought, before gently shaking her awake, resulting in a groan of annoyance.

“Come on T, you gotta get to bed.” he whispered, rubbing her back. She leaned against his chest, and shook her head into it, too tired to utter a rebuttal.

  Klaus chuckled lightly, and put Topazi’s used paper towel in the trash can, and her utensils in the sink, to be washed when he eventually came back down for his late night (and sometimes morning) snack. He gently picked her up, leaning down to press a small kiss to her forehead. He thought back simply how much he just loved her. He didn’t know how, as he said that “I can’t fall for someone completely. At least not again.” but he did. Although, it wasn’t completely all at once though. 

 Klaus made his way up the steps (once more avoiding Minnie), and into their shared bedroom where he gently laid Topazi down on the bed. He figured that she may want to be clean when she slept as well, but was somewhat confused how he was to go about the entire “my partner is half asleep and I’d hate to disrespect her boundaries”. So, he settled on simply getting rid of her outer clothes, and bra, then placing nightie over her form. It was one of the newer ones she’d bought. She would go on and on about how “there’s tiny flowers on this nightgown Klaus, I need to buy it”.....ah he loves Topazi with all of his heart.

  He gently tucked his lover into bed, making sure that she’s close enough to her phone that she won’t be grouchy about having to move from her spot in order to reach it. Topazi stirred in her slumber, but only a bit, and Klaus went down to the kitchen for his meal, which was going to be a good old fashioned lover boy nutter butter. Klaus thought back to when he first met Topazi as he ate his sandwich. It had been right after he met his....other siblings...like other other siblings. She was quietly sitting in a coffee shop, where she had her knees to her chest, reading a book. She was deep in concentration, but when Klaus found nowhere to sit, he had no choice but to ask her. (or to leave the shop and drink his hot chocolate elsewhere, but nah)

“Um, can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the seat. She nodded her head without looking up, making a small noise of affirmation at the back of her throat. Klaus sat in the booth across from her, his shoes making a squeaky noise on the tile below. He awkwardly crosses his legs, taking small sips of the drink.

“What are you reading?” he asked, eyebrows quirked upwards. She gently lifted her book, and it read “The Human Anatomy, Down to the Bone Cell” He hmmed in acknowledgement, and resorted to looking out of the window. 

 The drops of rain raced each other on the windowsill, determined for few seconds at a time, only to puddle together in the end. Klaus stared at a single corner outside, where nobody seemed to be walking over. It was the crack where the sidewalk met the much smaller border of the sidewalk. He watched the rainwater trickle into it, and he felt himself start to zone out. But that was alright...he needed time to think.

  This, in turn, was perfect for Topazi to stop reading her book and stare at this stranger. New people aren’t really her thing, as they’re usually below her standard of who she liked keeping in her circle. She peered at the way his curls were somewhat tussled, like he’d been caught in a windstorm of some sort. (Although it’s been rainy all day, no wind whatsoever.), she thought to herself. His eyes were beautiful, but so tired, it seemed. Wonderful shade of green, she thought, too. She pondered the different shades of green that she could remember, which lead to her thinking of the floating diamond of Sims’ characters. (plumbob, she repeated, overenunciating the first syllable). She went back to the thought at hand, and looked at the hand clutching the cup of hot chocolate, still seeming to be warm to the touch, judging by the steam coming from the mouthpiece of the top.

  His hand was veiny, somewhat red, (maybe because of the heat). His fingers looked very pale though, almost as if they’d recently been subjected to extreme cold, or flashes of it. (the rain, she thought) His chest was partially exposed due to the.....vest that he was wearing (maybe he’s some sort of performer, he does have a cowboy hat) She paid more attention to his face, also tired, and glanced at his lips, but only for a moment, as she didn’t need to get exceedingly horny in a public space over a complete stranger.....again. She softly gasped when he looked back at her, and she softly smiled, getting back to her book.

“Were you just staring at me?” Klaus asked, looking back at her.

“Yes.” she replied, eyes skimming over her paragraph on metacarpals. She had a fleeting thought to wiggle her hand in front of her face in order to properly label everything, but she could do that back at home.

“Why?” he asked, his tone giving off the fact that he wasn’t in fact upset, just curious.

“Eye contact isn’t my favorite thing, neither is small talk, especially if I’m preoccupied, so I sometimes stare at people in order to get a better understanding of them.” she explained, glancing at Klaus.

“Oh, well, don’t mind me then. I won’t bother you.” he said, looking at the table. Topazi put her book facedown on the table, apologizing.

“You’re fine! You didn’t try to talk to me, and you respected me when I didn’t reply with the name of my book, verbally at least. I like that.” she replied, deciding to look Klaus in the eye.

“Oh, thank you. Care to tell me why you’re reading about human cells?” he teased, a smirk coming to his lips. Topazi panicked for a moment, because she thought “fuck....he’s a charmer”

  She did tell him about why she was reading about human cells. And why she kept scratching a portion of the book as she read. He even noticed how she bit her lip when she read, which lead him to think that she was actually reading some sort of cell erotica, only to remember what she had previously told him. They talked for hours, it seemed. For once, Topazi found someone that she could talk to and not get tired. Interests, parents, everything (maybe a bit too much). They eventually had to separate, but not after giving each other their numbers, and Klaus found a small feeling of joy in his chest as he walked out of the coffee shop. He walked back into the Hargreeves (uh.....Sparrow) mansion with a small smile on his face. His face hurt, not from too much sun, or biting his lips too much. From pure excitement and joy, he found. Bubbling out of him, steamrolling its way out into the open. His fists shook in glee, and he squealed, and he didn’t care. For once. He needed something good, and she was it. Beautiful Topazi. Wonderful Topazi. That’s the answer.

  Klaus came back to his senses as he realized that some of the marshmallow fluff had leaked its way onto the counter where he scooped it up with a finger, tempted to put it into his mouth. A few moments of thinking gave him his decision. He imagined Topazi’s look of disgust when she caught him doing that once, and stuck his finger under the tap for a few moments, wiping the water off on his bare thigh. He finished his sandwich, and went back upstairs (once again avoiding Minnie). He snuggled next to his partner in bed, breathing in deeply. Yeah....she’d need a bit of a shower when she woke up, but that’s alright. That’s alright though. She would spend the rest of the day at home, to rest from being on her feet and knees for hours the previous day. And he’d tell her how important and beautiful she is, and think about how he’d almost went to the pizza shop across the street. But he didn’t. And he chose right, so right. With no regrets, for the first time he could think of in a while.

Masterlist

[homosociallyyours]

If you're still doing these: Ursula, Maleficent, Cruella and listen I'm going to say 10 but honestly I want to know your answers to basically all of those with these three so please feel free to answer as many as your heart desires

HIIIIII you sent this a week ago but i'm just answering now bc it's never too late to answer an ask as fun as this one, right??? This got long so I'm adding a read more!! And if anyone wants to send me three names and a number from this post please do!!!

stab, shoot or drown: I assume in this scenario I'm trying to defeat or kill these queens (sounds fake, but ok), so stab Ursula, shoot Cruella, drown Maleficent

fist fight, get drunk with, share a flat with: Right, so. I would absolutely lose in a fist fight with any of them, just to be clear. BUT: fist fight Cruella, get drunk with Ursula, share a flat with Maleficent.

fight aliens with, fight zombies with, fight capitalism with: The reality is that I would give up in the first two scenarios, but if I were the kind to try to take out aliens or zombies, I'd fight aliens with Cruella, zombies with Ursula, and capitalism with Maleficent (I mean she already hated the monarchy, right?)

write a book with, read a book to, hit with a book: OOF, this one is hard. But maybe write an erotic tale of fat femme on femme lust with Ursula, read a book to Maleficent and her crow, and hit Cruella with a book bc she kinda deserves it.

go on a six hour road trip with (no car radio, you choose who drives), sit next to on a six hour plane flight, sit across from on a six hour train journey: NICE ONE!!!! I would take a six hour road trip with Maleficent, trading driving duties. I would read her fic while she drives or else we'd make up shit about strangers in other cars. She would hex any cops we pass along the way, very sexy. Sit by Ursula on the flight and let her grope me with her tentacles only for both of us to walk away and pretend nothing happened at the end. And finally sit across from Cruella on the train thinking we had nothing in common for half the ride but then spend the other half gossiping about absolute celeb bullshit bc we share some of the same hot takes.

go clothes shopping with, go to ikea with, go grocery shopping with: You might think I would say go clothes shopping with Cruella, but you would be WRONG. Yes, she's a fashionista, but I just know deep down she's got serious fatphobia issues and we'd have to fight. Me and Ursula are going clothes shopping together, and we are two sexy fat bitches against the fashion world!!!! LOVE IT!! I'm going to ikea with Maleficent; I think she'd hate some of the same things I do. And definitely going food shopping with Cruella bc in spite of being skinny she IS a rich bitch and would probably let me indulge my fancy food sensibilities to create a truly decadent and sexy 7 course meal where money was no object. DREAMY.

go to a wedding with, go to a party with, go to a museum with: Wedding with Maleficent (either she got a great gift and I get to put my name on it OR she's secretly stealing all the gifts and we're running off together afterwards like two babes in a Taylor Swift song), party with Ursula (FANTASTICAL FEASTS!!), museum with Cruella so I can get her to buy me some art.

share a car with, share a bank account with, share a cake with: Me and Maleficent, in addition to being great roadtrip buddies, would also be excellent car sharers, idk why. I would share Cruella's bank acct because SHE'S RICH, HUNNY! But don't think she's my sugar mommy or something-- she's calling ME mommy in this scenario! And cake with Ursula...we're inviting Agatha Trunchbull and having a gay olde time.

watch a soap opera with, go to a play with, watch your favourite movie with: Hmmm a toughie. Soaps with Cruella bc she'd think the drama was nothing compared to her own life. Play with Ursula so that we could discuss the make up and costumes at intermission and then re-enact our favorite parts later like true drama heauxs. Meanwhile me and Maleficent are always down to watch Clueless bc obviously.

netflix and chill with, go ice-skating with, play dodgeball against: Listen I'm pretty sure me and Maleficent are netflix and chilling already (in my dreams)...she's literally running her fingers thru my hair right now (please i really wish). I'd ice skate with Ursula bc I have a feeling we'd both hate it and decide to get hot choccys instead, and I'd play dodgeball vs Cruella bc HOPEFULLY we'd both hate that too and would instead heckle all the people who decided that tossing balls at one another was a sport and not just some dull, sad version of torture.

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

books i actually like

A solid 97% of my ‘book reviews’ (for lack of a better term) are bound to be just me bitching about said book for way too long with way too many expletives, because books I genuinely adore rarely invoke the visceral reaction within me that causes so many of my ‘reviews’ of books I don’t like to be so impassioned and long-winded. Here’s to kicking this dumpster fire off with a little positivity, because that will be little and far in between henceforth.

Harry Potter – J. K. Foul Thing I never understood how someone could appreciate the art and not the artist until Harry Potter. JKR’s dead to me, but the seven original (and only, because I refuse to accept the flaming pile of dog shit that was The Cursed Child as canon) books remain i c o n i c. And you’ll probably witness a LOT of Harry Potter-inspired shitposting on my part if you decide to stick around, because Harry Potter trivia makes up a solid chunk of my personality, and I like to shove my fandoms in other people’s faces. Again, I’m cute like that.

The Diary of a Young Girl – Anne Frank By some odd coincidence, my mum got me Anne Frank’s diary for my 13th birthday, and I always felt like a Super Special Snowflake because of that. Obviously, I can’t relate to being Jewish and in hiding during WWII, but there’s a lot of Anne’s views and thoughts that… resonated with me (ain’t that the most basic-ass description of a book, ever). There’s always the lingering sadness while reading because you know how her story comes to an end, but it’s a book that’s still stuck with me six years later, and for the rest of my mortal life.

The Book Thief – Markus Zusak Why Must I Adore Books That Give Me Naught but Pain: An Autobiography.

Freak the Mighty – Rodman Philbrick Ditto.

Bad Alice – Jean Ure When I first saw the cover, I expected a lighthearted, cheery book. I was very much mistaken. Duffy, a self-proclaimed ‘oddball’, and Alice, another self-proclaimed ‘oddball’, are easily two of my favorite fictional characters, ever. The subject matter is pretty damn dark and rereading the book as an adult is actually kind of scary, but it’s so well-written and engaging and this sounds like I’m an elementary school teacher writing a report card so I’m just gonna stop here.

Tiger Eyes – Judy Blume A true Relic of the angst-riddled phase of my adolescence (I say as if I am not still going through said angst-riddled phase). I’ve been a fan of Judy Blume’s work since one of the girls in my third-grade class bestowed upon me Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing; growing up, I’ve become more detached from Blume’s work but Tiger Eyes is a book that’s never gotten old for me. Davey, the angst-riddled adolescent protagonist, is also stubborn and headstrong and angry and scarily relatable to myself at her age, though under wildly different circumstances.

Changeling – Philippa Gregory I’ve read a couple of Goodreads reviews on the Order of Darkness series, and I’ve garnered that Philippa Gregory fans (Philippans? Philipinos?) are not fans of the series. I can’t vouch for that, given that I’ve only ever read the said series, and I’m admittedly not a fan of books two through four (which is basically every book of the series published to date, exempting the first), but Changeling is a book I liked enough to attempt to handwrite it in a notebook back when I was 12 (I gave up after, like, two sentences because my hand started cramping), and also to try and write a ripoff, featuring an angsty young preteen girl with (short) wavy black hair and eyes like limpid tears (gee, I wonder who that could be) (my eyes are brown, though; I dunno why I wrote the self-insert to be blue-eyed).

The Secret History – Donna Tartt My first foray into dark academia; sadly, reading The Secret History before any other books in the (sub?)genre made every other book pale in comparison. What’s so special about The Secret History for me is that I hate every main character, with passion. Each and every one of them; not just Bunny, but Richard and Henry and Charles and Camilla and Francis and Julian can all go fuck themselves for all I care- but I find them so fascinating. The story and the way it’s written is pretty over-the-top dramatic and my struggling bilingual arse had to look up every tenth word or so, but I adore it with every fibre of my being. Well, the leftover fibres of my being that aren’t simping over Kim Seungmin.

A Series of Unfortunate Events – Lemony Snicket Does this count as the first step of my emo phase? Shoutout to the girl in seventh grade I sat next to for, like, two weeks, who lent me The Wide Window and got me hooked on the series.

Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll This entire book feels so trippy.

The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett It’s corny and Everything Works Out Swell for the Goody Guys in the End! in period-typical book fashion, but it got me through many a boring class in the spring of my ninth year of personhood, so I’ll always have a soft spot for Mary and Dickon and Colin and the rest of the gang. It also inspired me to Cultivate, and there are two pretty bougainvillea plants in my garden thanks to one Mary Lennox.

The Miseducation of Cameron Post – Emily M. Danforth Cameron Post: the lesbian baddie we all aspire to be.

Vicky Angel – Jacqueline Wilson Yet another shoutout to my seventh-grade seatmate for lending me her copy of Vicky Angel, which I read under my covers like it was a bloody nudie mag.

A Song of Ice and Fire – George R. R. Martin Where’s Winds of Winter, George?

Turtles All the Way Down – John Green Paper Towns used to be my favorite John Green book until I read Turtles All the Way Down last year. I adore John Green’s writing style (maybe not the #deep #woke #sadboi #middleclass #white #male #cisgender #heterosexual #personalityofabreadroll leads in a solid chunk of his books, though) and okay, so maybe Davis fits all of the above, but my true faves are Aza and Daisy and their dynamic.

To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee I keep calling this ‘HOW to Kill a Mockingbird’ in conversations and it gets really fucking inconvenient.

Coraline – Neil Gaiman I just wish I’d read this sooner than I did.

[obeymeluv]

Hey ^^ may I please request something? If you won't do it then that's totally fine but could you maybe write about how the demon brothers would react if MC got kidnapped and cannot summon any of them? If you don't have time to do it that's totally fine and remember to take care ^^

Quick rundown on my headcanons for bonding with demons:

When I read this, it made me question whether bonded brothers would instinctively know if their pact mate/bonded person was in trouble? Would they be able to tell if the bonded person was unconscious instead of just...contained? I’d like to think that when demons bond to the point of making pact marks, they can kind of “tap in” or “tune in” to the bonded one to make sure things are okay. When they do, they feel what their pact mate is going through. The longer they stay connected, the more they can share.

For example: a 5 minute connection can allow the bonded pair to say a few things mentally, and would allow the demon to fully tap into their bonded one’s emotions. The telepathic capabilities only work when the two are in eye-sight; the connection grows stronger as the demon moves towards the pact mate.

Basic and superficial wounds can be felt at this point. Pulse rates sync up at about three minutes. If the pact mate is unconscious, the demons can try to push their consciousness into being awake or opening their eyes to try and see through them to figure out where they are (before the conscious mind kicks in, about 5-10 seconds). This connection will also allow them to connect to other senses but the demons will be overloaded and experience them all at once. If their human is conscious and they tap into their senses again, they can filter out senses or enhance certain ones for a short amount of time.

Being connected 10 minutes or longer allows for deeper or graver injuries to be felt, and might help with reflexes. Humans may also take on key attributes of a demon, like sharper teeth or claw-like nails. Subtle changes like being slightly more charming (if pulling from Asmo) or stronger (if pulling from Beel) would start to occur. Using this too much may cause mental or physical pains.

The effects of being connected for thirty minutes or longer are largely undocumented (despite Devildom society being 5,000+ years old) but are assumed to be dangerous for the human (pass out from mental exhaustion, borrowed magic fatigue, numbness or trouble moving limbs if reflexes are enhanced, etc.) Humans like Solomon, who are magically inclined or gifted, will not be harmed or taxed as much as a non-magical human. Connected demons hardly have any drawbacks, save for being sore depending on the extent of their bond mate’s injury if they connect to the point of being able to feel them.

I added all of that because my brain had to know how the bros would find MC. Plus, I’m stuck in chapter 20/21 and think there needs to be more lore about pact bonds/capabilities.

I couldn’t figure out how to squeeze this in anywhere above, but if the demon wants to locate a missing pact mate, they will have an internal compass of sorts. It’s a really strong compulsion to go a certain direction no matter who or what is in front of them. Their bonded one will be at the end of that feeling, and it will intensify the closer they get to each other.

Now, how they’d react:

Lucifer

He’s super pissed, obviously. You’re in trouble and he can’t just teleport to you?! What the hell did you get yourself into?!

Also worried. Did you piss off some figure (witch, etc.) that has magic capabilities or is this just a situation where you, as a human, do not feel safe to summon them?

Lucifer has been alive for 5,000+ years and is one of the strongest in the Devildom. He will use the above-mentioned brain push to get you to open your eyes and look around. He needs an idea of where you’re at (he’ll apologize about your migraines later)

I headcanon that he’s good with directions and has a strong memory, so he’d probably be able to recognize your surroundings and find you personally

When he sets out to find you, he’s a one man army. A one-man wrecking crew of death.

Considers that your captors may be magic-proficient or have some sort of anti-demon items (why else would they be stupid enough to take you?) so he packs an old fashioned, heavy-ass sword or dagger in case hand-to-hand fighting isn’t an option.

Those gloves come off, and he rarely takes his gloves off. Lucifer will make sure your captors suffer a long, slow, painful death that illustrates why he’s a demon and why they should be afraid of him

He fought bare-handed. The dagger/sword wasn’t necessary.

Mammon

WHO JUST TOOK HIS HUMAN? WHY? GET FUCKIN’ READY, BUDDY!

Stuck in an angry panic spin of ‘HUMAN IS MISSING? WHAT DO I DO? HOW DO I FIND HUMAN? GOD DAMMIT!’ until his brain kicks in

Doesn’t think to use the brain push thing. His first thought is: people will sell information

Mammon is the Avatar of Greed--he knows what people want and he knows how to manipulate them. He’s actually pretty slick in a ‘watch this hand, not this one’ kind of way

Also caught in the feels and will not hesitate to beat somebody up for that information.

If he feels asking around will waste time, he’ll teleport to one of his witch acquaintances and have them find you. It may cost him another favor, but it’s worth it. SOMETHING is keeping you from summoning him, so he has to find a way around it.

You’ll hear Mammon coming before you see him. He’ll be complaining the whole way--(”Making me come all the way out here to save you! What were you thinking?!”) but he’ll be kicking ass without breaking eye contact

Being the second-oldest of seven, he grew up fighting several brothers at once and learned how to wrestle in different ways. His reflexes are pretty on point. It’s a very efficient fighting style--hard hits or distance throws that give him time to pick multiple captors off individually

Unapologetic and threatening. Lots of demon noises

He’s pretty quiet and burnt out by the time he finds you. More of a relieved exhaustion than anything. Baby boy missed you and just wants to hold you.

A little paranoid for the next two weeks. You’re basically on lock down with your main man until he feels better about everything.

Levi

THIS HAPPENS ALL THE TIME IN ANIME AND MANGA AND IT DOES NOT END WELL!

Spends a solid 5-10 minutes hyperventilating BECAUSE SO MUCH COULD HAPPEN!

Has something already happened to you? What have they done?! Will he get a ransom note? A spooky encrypted video email?

WHAT WOULD HENRY DO?

That ‘admiral of Hell’s Navy’ personality kicks in and after a mild panic, he’s all business. He WILL figure out a way to find you

 He’d use that “compass” connection I described. It goes well with his one-track mind/hyperfocus he tends to get.

This is one big ass-whoopin’ quest in the making and he’s fixing to get that achievement trophy

Levi’s more of a strategist than a tank. He’s basically banking on his demon form to help rip your captors to shred.

Were you held hostage by a decent-sized body of water that connects or is fed into by other bodies of water? He’ll be coming at your captors like a Sharpedo. You’re in the splash zone.

Has a very merciless and interesting fight style. It’s kind of cheating in that Levi’s biggest tactic is ‘don’t give anyone else room to fight’, but it works.

Be prepared to see his tail used in interesting ways. Boy has a built-in long-range weapon.

Whether it’s one person or a whole group of people, he may summon Lotan just because they pissed him off. You’ll be safe, of course.

Satan

Boy is big angry

YOU WERE STOLEN? HE CAN’T JUST GO TO YOU?

Satan just wants a nice, quiet, simple life with things that don’t make him angry. This makes him angry. There will be death.

Is very suspicious by nature, and an over-thinker, so he’s probably considered this would happen at one point. Actually already had a plan.

Would use a combination of the “compass” intuition and the brain push to see what you see. Instead of having you look at your surroundings, though, he wants you to look at people.

Does he recognize any of those fuckers? Who’s on his hit-list?

If there’s no immediate sense of a threat, he’s interrogating Asmo. Between the two of them, they WILL find the person/people who took you

There’s probably at least one book in his connection that works like the mirror from Beauty in the Beast where he just has to ask it about you and it will tell him.

When Satan comes in to rescue you, it’s all demon noises. He comes in terrifying and strong and leading with magic.

Probably smells like fire and blood. Is covered in the latter and basically none of it’s his.

Big fan of using his tail like a mace.

They get the horns (literally)

Asmo

Someone stole his precious darling?! Um, no. Not okay. THE FARTHEST THING FROM OKAY, ACTUALLY!

I feel like we don’t have a lot of character depth for Asmo. I’m hoping once I get un-stuck I’ll be pleasantly surprised with Asmo content. I can’t decide if he’d panic a bit or just go into straight, hardcore bitch mode.

The definition of “looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you”. Big dick energy. Big bitch energy.

 I feel like Asmo wouldn’t be super organized because this isn’t usually a kind of stressor he deals with. What he lacks in tactical thought, he makes up for in connections

Boy would probably find you fastest out of all the bros because he can make a few posts across Devilgram, get some celebrities to do the same, and SOMEONE would find you.

Would stay mentally connected with you for as long as your body could handle it, and would be very soothing. A panicked kind of soothing, like pouring his heart out to you and just gushing, but soothing

Like “Baby, I love you so much! I’ll find you soon, I promise! We can even beat these assholes together!” ❤︎

Usually hates getting his hair or nails dirty, but he might just break off a nail in someone’s eye. Or, you know, come find you in a nice-ass pair of heels just to shove one down someone’s throat (or up someone’s ass).

He may look dainty and gorgeous but DO NOT be fooled. This boy has SATAN for an older brother and BEEL for a younger brother. He knows how to throw down.

In general, he’s just a vicious little shit. Asmo knows how to fuck people up physically. He just doesn’t like doing it.

Depending on how many captors you have, Asmo will charm them into killing each other and just watch. It’s not the most satisfying thing, but there is SOME satisfaction to it

Couple snuggles and major pampering after you’re back with him (and you’ve been checked out by medical staff). Lots of kisses.

He cries and it’s very quiet and heart-felt.

Beel

The worst thing to happen in the history of ever. Literally.

In Beel’s world there are two things YOU DO NOT DO: 1) eat his food, 2) fuck with his family

It’s hard for him to think rationally because he’s just so stressed/angry that he’s stumbling around in his demon form and he’s ruining everything.

His full strength is on display and he’s leaving cracks in walls, scratching up things--just general, accidental destruction. He’s breaking things on accident and trying to write out plans on paper that rips up and it’s starting to wear on him to the point of being genuinely destructive

Beel feels first and thinks second, which makes this a lot harder

Uses the “compass” thing. Becomes demon juggernaut.

 Likes to fly and divebomb where possible, so someone’s getting knocked THE FUCK out

When he sees you, or gets to the end of that “compass” feeling, Beel’s football training kicks in and he just demolishes anyone that’s in his way.

People just get tossed around like rag dolls. He doesn’t check to make sure they’re down and out, just clears the way.

The type to try and hold you or touch you first. Then, if anyone’s still standing, he makes sure they get put down before going back to you.

Carries you all the way back, his wings buzzing and singing happily because you’re safe and everything’s okay

Once you’re back in the House of Lamentation his stomach goes off loudly. You guys have a big feast to celebrate.

Belphie

The list of things Belphie likes in this world: 1) Sleep, 2) Beel, 3) You. Do not mess with the things Belphie likes.

Is most pissed that one of his favorite people in the whole damn world have gone missing and can’t summon him. Is side-pissed that he’s losing so much sleep to come find you. It’s not your fault, but still

Someone will die, and only Belphie will have fun

Is sleepy enough that he doesn’t panic and awake enough to think

I headcanon that Belphie in particular has a special kind of brain push due to being the Avatar of Sloth and making people sleepy. When he pushes your brain, he can also pick through what’s at the forefront of your mind or your most recent conscious moments. It’s like being able to link up to dreams, just not limited to dreams.

 Periodically uses the telepathic link as a radar of sorts Uses it in conjunction with the “compass” instinct to make sure he’s going in the right direction. Using the telepathic link once he’s in the general area just helps him find you faster

Belphegor, like Satan, has a lot of reserved anger. It will be well-used.

I bet his tail works like a real whip. It’d be demeaning as hell to get hit with it and Belphie wants to see your captor suffer. The tail will be used

Imagine the last thing you see or feel is getting hit by a demon cow tail. He’d definitely do that.

No holds bar when it comes to fighting. Your captor(s) signed their death wish when they took you.

Mostly fatal bites and deep scratches. Probably some limb tearing or pulling things out that should be kept inside the body. May definitely get a few nut shots with the tail if you have any male captors (you know, just because).

He doesn’t show up as bloody as Satan would, but there’s definitely blood on his face and under his fingernails.

Carries you out of wherever you’d been held. Gives you firm instructions not to look at anything. Just kind of gently pressed you into his chest before readjusting you and carrying out.

I hope you liked it :D

[nlights37]

Fandom Wank Story Hour - Jonerys Edition

This week:  The Case of the Fic Thieves (?)

Hello, gang!

Are you ready for a story?  It’s a good one.  It’s full of angst and drama (mostly self-inflicted, wild allegations based on pure speculation, all sorts of fun stuff.  I bet some of you know it, but this post is for everyone who doesnt.)

But first?  An apology.

It’s hard to admit when you’re wrong.  Especially when you’re so, so sure you’re right.  Maybe it’s just jumping to the wrong conclusions.  Maybe it’s intentional, and you’re just looking for something to be offended by.  Maybe it’s just a mistake and you took someone else’s word for it.  Lots of possibilities.

This apology, however, is not one I’m owed, but one I owe, and in the spirit of acknowledging that it sucks but it’s the right thing to do, here’s mine:

A few months back an author in this particular group I know thought someone posted a fic on ao3 that copied her fic.  Now, immediately, I bet you can guess how it went down.  OUTRAGE!  SCANDAL!  And even yours truly was not immune.  I hopped right on the groupthink train without even reading the fic, just the summary.  In the end, that fic WAS stolen, not from Alice, but from another fandom.

I was wrong, though, to jump to conclusions and take other people’s word on something I should’ve checked out myself, and I’m sorry that I did it.  Truly.

It is that ironic mistake of mine that leads us to today, and other allegations of theft, that stem from some in this fandom and were directed first at @magalidragon.  Was she accused to stealing actual fics?  No.  Goalpost shift.  Now the fandom crimes for which you may be accused, with or without any actual merit, are moodboard posts (for example, apparently it was idea theft when Mags posted a Bones AU moodboard idea too closely to Amy’s Halloween Medical Examiner AU), fic teases that use the wrong word choice, or even just suggesting that you have an idea that is even remotely adjacent to anything any of the Tumblrina chat has written.  That’s what’s going on.  And even though this has apparently gone on for months in the minds of some folks, they never said a word, just unloaded and made all sorts of accusations all at once.

You know, bullying.  A good old fashioned pile-on, done in an open chat, instead of privately.  But okay.

And not a hot week after the other authors Mags mistakenly thought were friends accused her of stealing ideas from all of them, and how they couldn’t talk about fic ideas in their chat for fear Mags would steal them, we get to the collab fic that was teased on Wednesday.

The crime?  Referencing eligible lords for Dany to marry as ‘bachelors’.

Cue all hell breaking loose when all of a sudden Mags and I are both rotten fic thieves out to steal a fic idea from @muttpeeta (This might link for you but it doesn’t for me since I’m apparently blocked lol), her Bachelor fic.

Oh, the accusations flew.  In fact, they were so rampant from @stilesssolo that I reached out to both Amy AND Sabrina like “WTF?  You actually think I’d steal from you?”

At least Amy had the nuts to answer with no before she blocked me, but the drama continues.  Now it’s posting as though the very same people who were out for blood just a few days ago, ready to tell anyone and everyone in vague, passive aggressive posts, how they are the victims of this mean old fandom.

This shit’s gotta stop, because it’s not the first time this has happened.  We all bitch and complain about this fandom and all the drama and all the bullshit but it’s not gonna get better if you are complaining on one hand then actively seeking out drama or things to get offended by or upset about on the other.

If we want things to improve, and genuinely want this fandom to be a better place, then maybe we should start by admitting when we’re wrong, and maybe, just maybe, giving people the benefit of the doubt, or a little grace.  As authors and content creators, it kinda has to start with us, yeah?

Let’s try to make 2021 a little less contentious.  Fanfic isn’t a competition.  We can all exist in our own little niches and never have to have friction again, but that means maybe taking a look inside, too, and seeing how we are all contributing to the general atmosphere.

I know I’m capable of that.  I hope my fellow writers, whether we are friends or we never speak at all, can do that to.  I would have preferred to have handled all this privately, and tried to, but when people block you so they don’t have to face lying about you or accusing you of shit, and still try to milk the pity and act like they’ve been wronged when they were the guilty party, I gotta say, it just doesn’t sit right with me.

I don’t even expect any of the ones responsible will apologize to me or Mags, and that’s okay.  There’s no rule that says we all have to hold hands and sing songs together.  We’re still gonna keep writing fics, and trying to have some fun, and give you guys out there the same sort of stuff you’ve come to enjoy from us, until we get sick of it or GRRM finally drops that new book :P

Until then, I very sincerely hope that, if nothing else, we can all try to be a little more mature about things.  If you genuinely think someone’s wronged you, TALK TO THEM.  There’s no need to make everything a public spectacle - but you can be damn sure that if you start it that way that’s what you’re gonna get.  Being too scared to directly tag people you’re accusing of stuff doesn’t protect you from that.

[writeyouin]

Jesse McCree X Reader – The Gunslinger - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Revenge

A/N – I was going to write more but I’m tired now. I will eventually write a part three, so until then, I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Jesse downed another half bottle of cheap whiskey, in an attempt to forget. He wanted to forget the sorry excuse for a squat his last bounty had bought him. He wanted to forget his past as a member of the Deadlock Gang. He wanted to forget the way Overwatch had failed. He wanted to forget you.

It had been six months since he had last gone back to the Gunslinger, your run-down dive bar that felt more like home to him than anywhere else in the entire world. He would never forget the way he had failed you. If he told you his thoughts, you would undoubtedly try to comfort him by reminding him that he had saved your life, but he knew that he had failed you.

If he had been more careful with his aim when that prick had held a knife to your throat, then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all. He remembered all too vividly the scarlet blood that had ran from your neck down to your arm. Hating the memory that assaulted his brain, Jesse gripped his bottle tighter and downed what was left; any thoughts would be wiped away soon enough.

The door to the Gunslinger creaked open and you looked up hopefully, but it wasn’t Jesse. It was just another wanderer, stopping by your bar on the way to bigger and better things. After serving him, you went back to wondering about Jesse. It wasn’t surprising to see him gone so long, but this time you really felt like he might not come back.

The idea of never seeing him again hurt more than falling into a dozen cacti, and yet you knew that you shouldn’t be so disappointed; Jesse had never been yours to begin with. So, you waited through yet another day, hoping that the pain would soon fade.

The next day, much the same as the one prior was uneventful, at least until the sun dipped low on the horizon, signalling that it was almost closing time. Had there been anyone in, you would have rung a bell on the counter, calling for the last orders. As it was, you simply continued reading your book, a biography of Tekhartha Mondatta, the deceased omnic who founded the Shambali back before everything had turned to shit.

While you read, you debated closing the bar ten minutes early, knowing full well that if somebody should enter now, you wouldn’t have time to serve them more than a quick brew. It was only habit that stopped you from doing so; you hadn’t closed up early in the six years you had owned the bar, and you weren’t about to start now.

With only five minutes left to closing time, you began your night time ritual, cleaning the place so it was at least the most presentable dive bar in Santa Fe. Ducked beneath the counter, searching for the soapy rag you had just dropped, you heard the doors swing open.

“Bar’s closing,” You called.

“Is that so?” A somewhat familiar voice griped.

“Yeah, you’ll have to find somewhere else to-” You fell silent upon seeing Ulrick, the man who had attacked you six months earlier, scarring your neck where his knife had grazed you.

Subconsciously, you reached for the scar, reliving the fear you had felt then, though you proudly didn’t let it show.

“OUT,” You barked harshly. “GET OUT, NOW!”

“Is that any way to treat a guest?” Ulrick grinned sickly. “How’s about a little respect? Maybe a drink in my hand, yeah?”

Behind the bar, you fumbled to find your pistol. Mostly you used it to scare off the occasional rowdy drunk; now you wanted it for protection. Whipping it out, you glared at Ulrick.

“Get out,” You growled vehemently.

“You ain’t in any position to tell me what to do, bitch,” Ulrick spat, completely unfazed.

He limped closer to the bar, still injured from where McCree had shot him in the knee.

Unafraid to shoot, you cocked back the hammer on the old-fashioned gun. There was a moment of silence wherein only the leaky faucet in the back of the bar could be heard. Ulrick sized you up, and you stared him down, wishing you weren’t so far away from any decent law enforcement.

Finally, Ulrick smiled, adding further to your tension. He had no weapon, nor could he make his way over to you in time on his busted leg, and yet still he smiled the way children do when thinking that annoying refrain, ‘I know something you don’t know.’

He whistled, signalling for four other men to come in, all with shotguns aimed directly at you. “This is the one, lads. The lass that fucks the outlaw, or maybe she’s an omnic fucker. Maybe it’s both, she seems the type, right?”

Nobody replied to Ulrick’s speech, instead watching you intensely, their aim unwavering.

“What do you want from me?” You hissed.

“Me? You ain’t got nothing I want, bitch.”

Before you could so much as scream, your pitiful gun was taken and you were hit in the side of the head with the butt of a shotgun, knocked out cold behind the bar with no hope of rescue.

“Tie ‘er up,” Ulrick ordered. “I don’t want ‘er escapin’ when we torch this place to the ground.”

“Where’s our bounty?” One of the gang members growled irritably, having been told that Jesse McCree would be there.

“Obviously not here,” Ulrick shouted back. “I said he might not be. Settle for the pay I’ll give you for offing this bitch.”

Knowing full well that it was almost impossible to find McCree at any given time, the gang settled for the meagre price Ulrick had put on your head. If they had McCree, they could have earned a hundred times what he was paying them for you, but money was money and at least you were there.

McCree drove through the desert on an old chopper he had stolen from a low-down crook. He had been driving the entire night, almost swerving off the road more than once in his drunken state, the hangover from his binge drinking looming over him.

By this point he had expected that he would have blacked out in the small squat where he had been staying, but evidently, he wasn’t so lucky. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get you off his mind. If he couldn’t run from you, he would have to confront you instead and make you see that he was a no-good varmint that would never do anything good for you or that damned bar.

McCree wasn’t really sure what point he was going to make when he saw you, but he expected that you would disagree with his lowly opinion of himself and then there would be a lot of arguing back and forth.

Finally, McCree made it to the long stretch of road where the Gunslinger stood. For a moment he skidded the bike to a halt, squinting his eyes shut, sure that the plumes of smoke rising into the sky pushed up by orange flames were nothing but a hallucination; he was hungover, overly tired, and it wasn’t even the dry season for fires.

When he opened his eyes again and the fire persisted in the distance, McCree swore and kicked the bike’s throttle on, zooming down the final stretch faster than he should have in his state.

He was less than a mile away when the heat from the flames hit him, drying out his already cracked skin. He threw the bike down and immediately ran inside what was left of the old bar. Covering his mouth with his poncho to protect from the smoke, McCree’s Overwatch training kicked in, immediately sobering him up as he searched the bar for signs of life.

He prayed that you weren’t there, hating to think about the damage that would have been done to you if you had been there for long. Alas, he wasn’t so lucky, finding you tied up and unconscious behind the bar, your face bruised and bleeding from one blunt object or another.

McCree was filled with rage upon seeing the injury; it was no accident that you got that, nor was the fire that consumed the only home McCree had ever known.

“(Y/N)!” Jesse gruffly called your name, whilst cutting the rope that bound you.

He picked you up in and hoisting you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He kept on repeating your name, hoping that it might rouse you somewhat, but it was useless, like talking to a corpse.

At the macabre thought, McCree hurried, abandoning his bike for the beat up old chevy you kept around the back. Thankfully, the fire hadn’t damaged the car, past a few scorch marks that blackened the already damaged paint.

Laying you down on the back seat and belting you in, McCree got in the front and hotwired the car. The radio sprang to life with Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire, further stoking McCree’s temper on his way to the hospital.

Once at the hospital, McCree regrettably had to abandon you at the doors on a gurney for the doctors to find. By now, several cameras on the way through the small town and in the hospital would have gotten sight of the outlaw.

He would have to be fast if he wished to avoid the hands of the law as well as half a dozen bounty hunters. Besides, McCree also had a personal mission to track down whoever it was that had hurt you and destroyed your bar; every person involved was going to get a bullet right between the eyes for hurting his bartender.

If McCree stopped to think about it, he would have considered his feelings for you, but he knew if he did then he would be in danger of going somewhere he couldn’t return from.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, McCree scowled, awaiting the moment that he would see you again; he didn’t want to come back to you, but he knew he would have to see that you were alright before he could leave once again. What had started as a trip to get you out of his system had quickly become McCree’s mission to avenge you.

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[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old  friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

 It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.   

 My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough. 

  “oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.” 

 A flying toenail hit my eye. 

 “WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.  

 “Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

 “oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!” 

 “IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back. 

 I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

 I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle. 

 “All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

 “You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.” 

 “Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.” 

 I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.” 

 “Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?” 

 This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did. 

 After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t. 

 And he didn’t. 

 And therein lay the problem. 

 It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

 “Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.” 

 “Ew, he smells like meat.” 

 “RENNY!!” 

 “I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

 “He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.” 

 She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window. 

 “Hey Renny?” 

 “Hm.” 

 A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?” 

 “Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

 “Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.” 

 “Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.   

 “Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?” 

 Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first. 

 “I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.” 

 “Oh.” 

 “It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

 “The divorce or your virginity.” 

 “Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.” 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis. 

 “I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more. 

 Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?” 

 Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him. 

 “Maybeeee…?” 

 But then there was last night. 

 I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves? 

 “No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.” 

 Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.” 

 “Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this. 

 Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly. 

 But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him? 

 You were right, Harry. You are fucked. 

 I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh. 

 I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

 Renny was right.

 I needed therapy. 

 The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

 “Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?” 

 DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please. 

 I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

 “NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

 “Fine. I can keep a secret.” 

 I was getting a little too good at that lately.

 She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious. 

 “Yeah, more than you know.” 

 And I was serious, too. 

 --------------------------------------

 I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs. 

 Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery.  . 

 “Woah did you hear that?” 

 Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.” 

 It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

 The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next. 

 A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did. 

 “It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts. 

 “How’d you know that?” 

 She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance. 

 I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick. 

 Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away. 

 My hand wavered. 

 Odd. 

 Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors. 

 I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over. 

 “Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”   

 Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

 Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

 She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster. 

 “I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

 Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

 I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.” 

 Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too. 

 “Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed. 

 We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from. 

 “Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment. 

 My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?” 

 “Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-” 

 “My God,” David proclaimed. 

 Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

 It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.” 

 “Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass. 

 Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

 “Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased. 

 He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.” 

 We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

 Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left. 

 “Look closer.” 

 My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang. 

 “Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin. 

 The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot. 

 “Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

 “Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.” 

 “How so?” 

 “Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.” 

 He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside. 

 He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles. 

 “They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said. 

 A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.” 

 “Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.” 

 “Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

 His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him. 

 I felt him come closer. 

“Listen now,” he urged. 

 I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder. 

 “Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.” 

 I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed. 

 “Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?” 

 I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous. 

 “What do you hear?” he urged. 

 “I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped. 

But right when I was about to open my eyes-  

 I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter. 

 “Birds?” I opened my eyes. 

 “Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself. 

 “Why are there birds?” 

 “We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

 Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half. 

 My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.” 

 “All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes. 

 “Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow. 

 I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second. 

 I was naked. 

 In all of them. 

 One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.  

 Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet. 

 The wine had dropped.

 I’d dropped it. 

 I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb. 

 “Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked. 

 I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe. 

 He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

 The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees. 

 Because that’s what it was. 

 An exposure. 

 A stranger could pay to have me in their home. 

 The floor spun, vision spotting. 

 My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly. 

 “I didn’t want this.” 

 And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home. 

part 22

[hopes4gf]

Thievery and Mischief (a marvel/ descendants crossover)

TW: (applies for series: discussions and mentions of rape, underaged sex, cheating, suicide, mental health)

AN: hi! this is a work in progress fanfic i’m uploading in advance of 15 chapters, so please show this some love, also sorry in advance for typos and spelling errors, my grammar is shit ;/ please enjoy!

I was so young. Too young. I didn’t understand why anything happened. I grew up in Agrabah with my parents and my brother, Aziz. But it wasn’t the dream vacation destination everyone in Auradon sought it out to be. It was a wreck. Jafar and Hades had invaded Agrabah and fought against my parents for revenge. Agrabah was damaged after their attack and our government had struggle to repair itself. So we had to live in a semi-permanent safe home for quite some time. By the way, I was also cursed by Jafar as a kid and I could shape shift into a tiger and develop other powers in the future. In my home, Mom was always stressed. Yelling and screaming how we needed to be better than they were to protect our city, especially me with my powers. My brother and I both took fencing classes, martial arts, learn how to shoot, every survival skill in the books before taking boys and girl Royal etiquette classes. Mom was the one who was particularly hard on me and my older brother throughout our childhood. Dad, not so much. He spent a lot of time in meetings in Auradon City. That’s how my first friendships began. He was great friends with King Adam and Queen Belle, elected leaders of Auradon. Ben, their only child was shy around me at first. He was intimidated by my mature stature. He like horses, painting, books, and food. I liked singing, fencing, and dancing but I also had a love for food and books so we got along through those things. We would always talk about the different ingredients in our cultures foods. His French pastries and my Arabian comfort foods. We were an inseparable pair of friends. And then I was introduced to Audrey. She joined our group soon after King Adam and Belle has decided to promise my parents and Audrey’s parents to a trust bond. A promise that would have one of us marry in the future. 9 year old me definitely didn’t want ANYTHING to do with dating my best friend. Neither did Ben. But Audrey, she was so persistent. She would constantly try to grab his attention. She was such a cheeky little girl. Raised to be such a lady compared to my more loose and carefree attitude. Somehow, Ben was happy around her. Our group soon expanded, and I met the greatest person ever. Li Lonnie, my greatest friend ever. Daughter of Fa Mulan and Li Shang, she was like me. Mature, strong, intelligent, and such a beautiful kid. Sure, she didn’t have my hazel eyes but she was such a pretty girl. She spoke so intelligently and when she spoke it was law. She was one of my inspirations as a kid. And still is :)

Time passed and we realized we weren’t kids anymore. My brother had to go away to a school in Auradon. And I was alone soon again. But I had my friends. But my child-like manners went away when I realized it was soon my turn to go to Auradon. So, I ran away. But you’ll hear more about that in the future.

Freshman year of high school. Audrey and Ben has broken off from our group and started dating in High School. Audrey has changed so much. She was such a sweet girl with a big heart but had begun to morph into a self-absorbed teen. Lonnie was still the same kind-hearted best friend. When I arrived in Auradon, I had a familiar face to help me. My cousin, Jordan. Daughter of the Genie. Everyone in that school was so nice that it hurt. My mother had raised me not to believe everything in front of me. But one particular thing or something changed that. A blonde boy with short curly hair and beautiful blue eyes had captured my attention. I still remember when our eyes had locked for the first time in the school courtyard. It was a whole new experience for me. I suddenly felt happy inside. Like a new found confidence in me was discovered. But my cousin Jordan advised me not to approach the boy. Chad Charming, son of Prince Charming and Cinderella. The most popular boy at Auradon Prep. Every girl would fawn over him endlessly. One day I had found a note from him on my lunch tray to meet him in the gardens. I swear we talked for hours about everything. We talked about our dreams, our experiences, our hopes. He made all my dreams happen. I wanted my first date to be at a carnival and he made that happen. I wanted something from the mall and he got it for me. I thought everything with him was just fine. Until that party. Ben had thrown a party for all his friends at Auradon Prep and Chad and I were there. Everyone was drinking except me. Imagine, prestigious kids of Royalty breaking illegal drinking laws. I didn’t know at the time but the punch was spiked heavily with Vodka. I never drank Vodka after that damn party. Jane, the headmistress, Fairy Godmother’s daughter had come to my dorm crying. She kept saying “I can’t take this anymore”. She had gave me the worst news of my life. She had seen Chad take me upstairs while I was drunk and touch me in explicit manners. Essentially, my boyfriend decided to rape me at my best friend’s party. I was sickened by that. And when my family pressed charges and got a restraining order on him, the case ended in a settlement. He didn’t even serve time. Because the judge was a family friend of the Charmings. I was devastated. I cried for weeks. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I just cried. Lonnie visited me every day while I was out of school. She had told me that Chad had moved on and was doing perfectly fine. I was miserable for all of Sophmore year.

By the way, my name is Adri Ababwa and I’m the world’s stupidest masterpiece. But you’ll see why later.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Adri,” My best friend, Ben called out.

My eyes widen, suddenly alarmed from my name being called.

“What’s up?” I say striding over to Ben’s side as he looks out the window of his parlor.

”I spoke with my parents about the proclamation,” Ben says.

I roll my eyes, realizing what’s about to happen.

”I told you your idea was stupid. Your dad would never let you bring Villain kids over-“

”They approved it,” Ben says, stopping me between my sentence.

My eyes widen in disbelief.

“Oh. Oh! I guess that’s good for you I guess,” I say nervously.

Ben takes both of my hands in his.

”Listen, I know things were rough for you last year, but this year we need change in this world. And I’m gonna be the one to establish that change,” Ben says.

”Even if that means bringing the daughters of Maleficent and the Evil Queen and the sons of Cruella de Vil and Jafar to Auradon Prep?” I ask nervously.

”What did I say about that?” Ben asks cheekily.

”They’re not their parents,” I reply in a mumble.

”Right,” Ben says, patting my shoulder. Ben opens his mouth to say something but hesitates.

”What?” I ask.

”That‘s why your going to be my advisor,” Ben says.

I take a step back.

”Your crazy but okay,” I giggle.

Ben chuckles softly and goes to the phone to ask his secretary if Audrey is on her way to the room for her Coronation fitting.

I walk through the door and wish Ben good luck.

As I stride down the hall, I hop onto my sticker filled skateboard and race down the halls. I greet the guards surrounding the castle and slide the down the handlebars of the stairs. I see Audrey and stop to walk the rest of the way.

”Adri! It’s a pleasure to see after so long. Out of your depression, I see,” Audrey says snarkily.

”Sure! I’m fine. And I see your makeup is looking as creased as ever,” I reply in the same fashion.

Audrey huffs and rolls her eyes.

I strut off.

”Fucking bitch,” I mutter to myself, hopping on my skateboard and skating back to my dorm.

As soon as I reach my dorm, Fairy Godmother is standing by my door.

“Can you please give me the board?” Fairy Godmother asks.

”Can’t have any fun around here, can I?” I ask, giving her my board for the fifth time this week

“Not for the first week of school. Remember we have-“

”Press coming in to report on the school, I know Jane told me,” I say at the same time as Fairy Godmother.

“Good. Then I’ll see you soon,” Fairy Godmother says dismissing herself.

I turn around and head for the courtyard where I spot Jordan under our gossip tree.

”What’s new, pinky-Lou?” I ask.

”Hey, cuz. Just doing some newspaper projects. I writing about the secret camera web series of our school and the new kids coming to the Isle,” Jordan says.

”Damn, news does travel fast,” I scoff.

”Ben posted an announcement a couple minutes ago,” Jordan says.

I roll my eyes in disbelief.

“What if one of them is cute? You gonna go for it?” Jordan asks cheekily.

”HELL NO. I am never making the same mistake of opening up to a person ever again,” I yell.

”It’s gonna happen...” Jordan says in a song-like manner.

”Shut the fuck up!” I say.

The night I sneak out of my dorm and go to the kitchens to get a snack for Roxie, my baby tiger.

”Insomnia?” A voice says behind me.

I’m startled by the voice and I turn to see Lonnie standing over the counter.

”Yes, you asshole,” I sigh.

Lonnie laughs silently.

”You know someone’s gonna find out that it’s you recording the videos at lunch,” I say.

”Stop it. That’s top secret,” Lonnie says.

”Who cares? Everyone knows that they’re asshole and dickheads anyways. And your very lucky that I haven’t ratted you out to Jordan. She’s persistent,” I say, grabbing some bacon from the fridge and putting it in a pan

”That’s for Roxie, right?” Lonnie asks.

”Maybe not,” I say.

Lonnie laughs and I take a piece of cooked bacon and put it in my mouth.

I hum softly at the taste.

”Hey. Don’t be afraid to talk to me sometimes. Especially after what I saw,” Lonnie says.

Ah. The thing. After some time in my self-quarantine of Sophmore year, I decided it was time for everything in my life to end. So, I grabbed some pills and I did something I regretted. Lonnie saved my life that day. That’s why I love her so much.

“I know, mama,” I say softly as I cook the rest of the bacon.

”You have no idea how much I care, Adri,” Lonnie says, hugging me from behind me.

”Thats probably why I love when you’re around,” I chuckle.

Lonnie lays her head on my shoulder.

”By the way I signed ya up for the welcoming comitee with Audrey,” Lonnie whispers.

”What!” I yell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later...

Someone starts banging heavily on my door. I open my eyes and the sound in my ears clears.

”ADRI! Wake up! Your late for the Vk’s welcoming,” Audrey screams from behind my door.

Maybe I should have stayed asleep. Damn you, Lonnie.

I put on this:

pin.it/5uiV7hV

And I walked out my door.

“Ben shouldn’t have made you his advisor if you were gonna sleep in,” Audrey says.

”I’m here aren’t I?” I reply.

”Shut up, let’s go,” Audrey says, grabbing my hand and dragging me down the stairs to the courtyard.

Oh god this is gonna be terrible.

Ben sees me and Audrey coming up next to him.

”What happened to you?” Ben asks.

”Slept in,” I mumble.

Ben chuckles and Audrey takes his arm.

”It’s fine by the way, it’s actually the first time in a while,” Ben says.

Fairy Godmother begins to greet everyone in the small group of band kids and cheerleaders until she reaches our trio.

”Ben, Audrey, Adri, how are you?” Fairy Godmother.

“Good,” We all say.

The limo pulls up and the band starts playing. The limo stops and two boys pop out fighting over a scarf.

My eyes glance towards to girls who come out of the other side of the car. One has short plum hair with a plum leather outfit to match. The other girl has long wavy blue hair with two crown braids at the front.

“Why do you want whatever this is?” One of the boys with gray hair says.

”Because you want it,” The other boy in a red beanie says.

Right off the bat you notice who’s who. And the boy in the beanie is definitely Jafar’s son.

“Leave it where you found it! And by that, just leave it.” Fairy Godmother says.

”Just cleaning up!” The boy with the red beanie says.

He puts the scarf back in the limo and his eyes immediately catch mine.

He catches me as I stare at his frame. His brown hair, his dark brown eyes, his muscular form and his leather outfit all catch me off guard.

His frown turns into a smirk and he strides towards me.

”Hello, foxy~ The name’s...Jay,” The boy introduces, attempting to flirt with me.

I laugh softly at his action.

”Your quite the catch aren’t you?” I remark with a smirk.

“Welcome to Auradon Prep,” Fairy Godmother says, stepping between us.

I whisper a little thank you to her and she nods.

”I’m Fairy Godmother, the headmistress,” She curtsies.

”As in, the Fairy Godmother? Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo?” The girl with plum hair asks.

”Bibbidi-Bobbidi, you know it,” Fairy Godmother says.

“Does she ramble like this much?” I ask Ben.

”All the damn time,” Ben says.

We snicker in unison.

Audrey nudges Ben.

”It’s so nice to meet you all. I’m Ben,” Ben introduces.

”Prince Ben. Soon to be King, right Bennyboo?” Audrey interjects.

I fake-vomit at the nickname and roll my eyes.

”You had me at Prince. My mom’s a queen so that makes me a princess,” The blue haired girl says, fawning over Ben.

”The Evil Queen has no Royal status here and neither do you,” Audrey smiles cheekily.

”Yes she does, otherwise Snow White would cease to be Royalty and she is her step-sister,” I comment with a smile.

Audrey raises a brow to stop me and I wink in the girl’s direction. She gives me a smile in return.

”This is Audrey. My-“

”Girlfriend. And future queen,” Audrey says.

”Last but not least, this is Adri. My advisor and my best friend,” Ben says.

”Your new wickedly cool best friend,” I say with a smirk.

”These three are going to show you all around and I’ll see all tomorrow. The doors of wisdom are never shut! Except library hours are 8:00 to 11:00 and you know I have a thing for curfew,” Fairy Godmother says, excusing herself.

”She tends to drag things out of proportion. Don’t mind her,” I say.

Ben chuckles and Audrey nudges his arm.

“It is so, so, so good to finally me... meet you all,” Ben starts as Jay hits his chest with a light punch.

“ This is a momentous occasion, and one that I hope will go down in history... Is that chocolate?” Shaking the gray haired boy’s hand that is covered in chocolate.

”As the day our two peoples began to heal,” Ben finishes.

“Or the day where you showed four peoples where the bathrooms are,” The plum haired girl says.

“A little over the top?” Ben asks her.

”More than a little,” She says.

”So much for my first impression,” Ben says awkwardly.

“You're Maleficent's daughter, aren't you? Yeah, you know what? I totally do not blame you for your mother trying to kill my parents and stuff. Oh, my mom's Aurora. Sleeping...“ Audrey starts.

”Beauty! Yeah I’ve heard the name. You know, I totally do not blame your grandparents for not inviting my mother to their stupid christening,” The girl responds.

”Water under the bridge!” Audrey fakes.

”Totes!” The girl replys in the same tone.

They laugh together pathetically.

“Jeez, can we get this over with?“ I scoff.

” OK. So how about a tour, yeah?“ Ben starts.

We start to move towards the front of the school.

“Auradon Prep was originally built 300 years ago before my father turned it into a high school when he was elected King,” Ben says, clapping his fingers to morph the statue.

The gray haired boy jumps into Jay’s arms.

”Carlos, it’s okay. My father made the statue to remind us that anything is possible,” Ben addresses.

I laugh at the boy’s banter. Jay sees this and drops Carlos to the floor. I can feel him lurking by me as we continue inside the school.

“ So do you guys have magic here? You know, like wands and stuff?” Mal asks.

“All that stuffs pretty much retired. Most of us are just ordinary mortals,” Ben says.

”Unlike me. I was cursed so...” I say clicking my tongue.

”And you happen to be kings and queens?“

“That’s true. Our royal blood goes back hundreds and hundreds of years,“ Audrey says, placing an arm around Ben.

”Doug,” Ben calls Dopey’s son down.

“Doug, will be showing you to your dorms. If you have any questions-“

”Ask Adri or Doug,” Audrey says, whisking him away.

“Um, hey guys. Hi, guys. I'm Dopey's son. As in Dopey, Doc, Bashful, Happy, Grumpy, Sleepy, and... Heigh-ho.,” Doug starts, his eyes landing on the blue haired girl.

I take the clipboard from him and read their names.

”Mal Bertha. Evie Grimhilde. Carlos De Vil. Jay Farr,” I read to myself.

I interrupt Doug as he talks about classes.

”I’ll be showing you to your dorms,” I say, walking up one staircase.

”Guys, it’s actually this way,” Doug points towards me as the go in the wrong direction.

They follow me until we stop at their dorm rooms.

”Boys, you have the larger dorm here,” I point.

”Sweet!” Carlos says, hopping inside.

”What’s in it?” Jay asks, me

”Two full size beds, a flat screen tv, mini fridge, 3D printer, gaming console, a bathroom for two, fireplace, and double closet,” I say off the top of my head.

”Thank god, that’s enough to keep them busy for hours,” Mal says.

Me and the girls turn away from their room but someone places a hand on my shoulder.

”Hey, can we talk after?” Jay asks.

”Why?” I ask, raising a brow.

Jay gives me a pleading looks and I roll my eyes, walking away.

”Girls, this is your dorm. With roughly the same things as the boys except a bigger closet and bathroom and no gaming console,” I say.

”This room needs more-“

”Purple? I supposed you would agree. Love your outfit by the way,” I compliment.

”You don’t look to horrible yourself,” Mal smirks.

”I made it by the way,” Evie adds.

“Fashion Designer, huh? You could make some bank with that,” I comment.

Evie smiles.

”If you need anything, I’m the first door down the hall,” I say.

I close the door to the girls dorm and turn to see someone completely unexpected. My smile turns into a frown as I see Chad Charming at the end of the hall. As I try and stride down the hall to Jay and Carlos’s room, his gaze meets mine.

”Well, well. Look who it is. Little miss court case,” Chad says, his lips curving into a smirk.

”Your lucky my restraining order is expired, Charming,” I snark as he draws near to me.

”You know, you’re lucky Ben and Lonnie are friends with you. Otherwise, everyone here wouldn’t give a damn about your little charity case,” Chad says cockily, running a hand through my hair.

My body tenses and my teeth clench as he touches my hair.

“Don’t do that,” I say through my clenched jaw.

”Or what?” Chad says, pinning me against the wall. His frame towering over me.

”You gonna sue me again just so that I could give your pathetic ass more money?” Chad asks.

”Get your fucking hands off of her,” A voice says from behind Chad.

I look over Chad’s shoulder to see Jay standing behind him with a scowl on his face.

I can practically feel my eyes change shape, pleading to Jay to help me.

Chad gets off of me and walks towards Jay confronting him.

”Is that a threat?” Chad asks.

”You gonna punch me if it is, Princey? You know, you probably shouldn’t mess with someone you barely know. I’m sure it’ll have serious consequences,” Jay growls.

Chad backs off, intimidated by Jay.

”Whatever, man,” Chad scoffs, taming a step back.

He turns to me, his smirk returning.

”I’ll see you later, babe,” Chad says, winking at me.

He walks away and I can practically feel the tears coming to my eyes.

”Who the hell does he think he is?” Jay scoffs.

My legs start to move down the hall, trying to get away.

”Hey! Where are you going?” Jay calls behind me.

”Leave me alone!” I choke.

Jay’s footsteps chase after me and he grabs my wrist.

”Stay out of my business and leave me the hell alone,” I say in a serious tone.

”What was that about though? And why do you look like your about to cry in any second?” Jay asks deliberately.

I growl under my breath.

”Because he’s my abusive ex-boyfriend who raped me while I was blacked out at Ben’s party! And now everyone pities the hell out of me and treats me like a child because I tried to commit suicide. Is that what you’re so desperate to get out of me?” I yell.

Jay is taken aback by my words. His brown eyes widen as he looks at me. Searching through my eyes and seeing the pain in them.

”Shit, I’m so sorry. Look, I will never ever do that to you ever again,” Jay says, concerned by my action.

”Listen, don’t make promises you know you can’t keep,” I say.

Jay turns to leave but I grab his wrist.

”You forgot you tell me what you wanted to speak about,” I say with a smirk.

Jay scratches his neck nervously.

”Sorry. I was just so concerned about the way that guy was talking to you that I didn’t even realize,” Jay explains.

I chuckle lightly at his concern. How is he so chill after that? After I just yelled at him?

“I was just wondering if I could learn a little more about you. I mean-since we know a little bit about Ben and Audrey so,” Jay says.

I giggle lightly at his question. Then I hesitate, remembering this is the son of my parent’s enemy. But suddenly, my new found confidence tells me “Fuck it”.

”Well, I’ve lived in Auradon for 3 years. I like Art a lot. And um, I’m the daughter of Aladdin and Jasmine,” I say shyly.

Jay erupts in a light chuckle. My brows furrow at his actions.

”Did I say something wrong?” I ask.

”No, but that does explain everything,” Jay says with a smirk.

”Explain what exactly?” I ask, confused by his action.

”The comebacks, the way you roll your eyes, the outfit, and the way you act around danger. You have that “I really don’t give and shit sometimes attitude”. I’m assuming it’s family trait,” Jay laughs.

I roll my eyes at his banter.

”Sure, dipshit. And you know wanna know what gives you away?” I ask cheekily.

”What?” Jay says, playing along.

”The fact that you prance around me, eyeing me just like your father did to my mother when she was my age,” I say with a smirk.

His eyes widen, catching him off guard.

”And I promise you, your little concerned or flirtatious act isn’t gonna always cut it with me, pretty boy,” I say, tapping his shoulder and turning to leave.

I look behind me and see him smirk behind me as I walk to my dorm.

That boy is gonna keep trying to win me over. And I’m in for the long game...

[dolcetters]

get to know the mun ~!

repost, don’t reblog.

———  basics! ♡

(PEN)NAME: hannah / red / raven

PRONOUNS: she / her

ZODIAC SIGNS: virgo sun, scorpio moon

TAKEN OR SINGLE: hella single

———  three  facts! ♡

i horde art-of books like a dragon. current count around my art desk is 42 but i have maybe 4 or 5 over in my bookshelves that won’t fit in my desk drawers. if i hear an artist i love/follow is kickstarting a book, i’m on it. and i’m currently trying to slowly collect the Spectrum: Fantastic Art series as well as the annual Illustration series published by Shoeisha. in addition to art-of books, i also love collecting enamel pins and old fashion keys. i really love keys.

my favorite pokemon types are ghost types, and i tend to prefer sticking to the first 2 generations (though i have a handful of later generation pokemon i like, the designs just don’t tickle my quite as much). my FAVORITE would probably be haunter, if i had to choose. also i’ve had pokemon: moon for... cripes, 3 or 4 years? and i’ve barely gotten past getting my rowlet because i kept starting the game over because i really wanted a female, goddamnit. she’s mine, now. ...i just gotta actually give myself permission to play the actual game l m a o.

my webcomic is totally gonna give it away but i have a fascination with forests, trees, and especially old/ancient trees. i can’t quite put it into words, but the concept of a living thing being so MASSIVE and looming, winding, tall and beautiful whilst being thousands of years old... like... what stories can you tell? what have you seen? what have you lived through, felt, sheltered--just... a really love trees and what they can symbolize and/or bring to a story. and the idea of an old forest... auhaufhdskgd.

———  experience ! ♡

been RPing since ye ol’ neopets days (i wanna say i was 11-13?). went from there to RPing in various chat spaces on deviantart, then mostly did one-on-ones  with my bestie, JM, over skype and nowadays discord. think i joined the tumblr RPC early my freshman year of college? with this blog, actually (the original blog is now archived but same handle, same muse). aaaand a decade later i am stillll hereeeee.

———  muse preference !  ♡

can’t say i have one, really? i’ve written a super wide range of personalities over the years and tons of canon AND OCs alike. most of my tumblr muses have been canon, but this is mostly because OC blogs tend to take more leg work (icons, detailed bios, etc; seriously you guys are badasses) and since i started RPing around here in college going forward i generally just... don’t have the free time anymore to dedicate to the stuff OC blogs need. my free time goes toward my comic and other art because i really would like to make THAT my career, and i can’t justify to myself spending time i could be putting into that into an RP blog. --and i really hope that doesn’t come off as “dissing” OC blogs because seriously you guys are fucking incredible and in a lot of ways i do envy you because i wish i had the time and headspace to write my OCs around here--i love dol, but christ, sometimes it comes to the end of the day and you realize he’s not your own actual character and it all just feels super hollow lmfao. i continue to be in awe of the OCs i encounter around here. one of these days i’m gonna write a strongly worded letter of love.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF: fluff is my shit. let me write disgustingly wholesome sweetness all day. i’ll give all you bitches cavities. you’ll hate me for it. my blog doesn’t come with dental, i’m so sorry, i’ll make it up to you somehow. GOD, i’m fluff deprived right now.

ANGST: i’m chill with angst so long as i get breaks. >xD it’s great for development and character exploration and all that jazz but as soon as we get grimdark for grimdark’s sake, i start checking out. i just. i can’t. i’m too tired, the world’s on fire, how ‘bout yours, that’s the way i like it and i never get bored.

SMUT: my willingness to write smut is 100% dependent on my relationship with the other mun, tbh. i was a bit looser with this when i started RPing and i kind of regret that in the sense that i think i let myself get pressured into it because tumblr RPing was newww and my partner and i were excited about our shiiiip and suddenly things were happeniiiiing, and now i’m like. ...idk, i just need to feel completely safe and in transparent communication with the mun before we can do that. it doesn’t help that i’m sex-repulsed and, while there’re some aspects of smut that i don’t bat an eye at there are others that’ll squick me out real fast. i got nothin’ against how often or unoften anyone else partakes, but ya gurl just needs that solid ground on a mun-to-mun level, y’feel.

PLOT / MEMES: i’m totally grand with either, my guy--i love plotted stuff with a basic “outline” of events that we just let our characters find their way through like they were on a roadtrip OR just ... throwing them to the wind and seeing what happens organically. sometimes meme-starters can take real interesting character turns, sometimes plots just up and die... LONG AS WE’RE HAVIN’ FUN.

tagged by: stolen from @aemiliiu​ because eeehhhhHHHHH??? it mundai.

tagging: i stole it, you steal it

[2sunchild2]

Daminette au: Slow burn

I’m writing this instead of my fic because I just got hit by a little bitch, named inspiration.

Au by the great and powerful wizard of Oz @ozmav

Tags owo: @mindfulmagics @realrandomposts @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay @slytherinsheashire @kelelamentia @justatempo-writes @jaynintodd @maribat-archive @starry-bi-sky @ayuchan07 @kaitlinmarley @miraculous-mangoes

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15 year old, the meeting

Damian Wayne was never the social type. He mostly kept to himself and tended to stray away from any social interaction. There was plenty of that at home. He repeats to himself every time he gets upset over not having a friend.

He walked up the steps of Gotham Academy so he could escape whatever embarrassment Jason was planning on putting him to. The kid around him began whispering, and although immune to it (they talked about him a lot), he couldn’t help but eavesdrop at th conversation going on two feet away. He didn’t want to be obvious so he didn’t lean in too much, but he heard snippets.

...new girl...

...Paris...

...just moved...

A new girl? Interesting. He would look into that when he gets the chance. He made his way to the science classroom, bumping into an unfamiliar body. The people around them quieted down, staring curiously. The body ended up being a girl, who unfortunately dropped her books. She blushed in embarrassment and started speaking in a language he knew, but never really spoke.

She was rambling in French.

She was unfamiliar to him.

Oh... she was the new student.

She stopped when she noticed the silence and looked down, probably more embarrassed than before, if that was even possible.

“Damian Wayne.”

He had no reaction to the voice of Olive Silverlock (a real character I swear I looked it up) who marched up to him with a steely gaze.

“Are you trying to scare our new student on her first day?” The silver haired class president didn’t give him a chance to answer since she turned to face the flustered French girl, “You’re Marinette, right?”

The girl managed to nod. Olive grinned and locked their arms together, “Let’s get you settled in your dorm, ‘kay? And then I’ll give you a tour.”

The girl smiled at that, her blue eyes shone brightly. She let out a soft ‘merci’ to Olive and she turned to Damian before being dragged away.

“Je m’excuse.”

16 years old, the first step; starting out

Damian Wayne was not one to go out with a girl. That was Dick’s job. And yet, he looked at his best friend, whose head rested on his shoulder as she thought of a new design.

They were at the park today. Marinette mumbles something about the need to be inspired. They were in the manor at the time and Titus, with his amazing timing, wanted to go outside. It was a win win for everybody.

Damian watched as she focused on the blank page she seemed to be at war with. It was actually funny to see her this frustrated. He tried to hide his chuckle and failed. It was rewarded with a bone-chilling Marinette Dupain-Cheng glare. He put his hands up in surrender and smiled sheepishly. She went back to her glaring match with the paper.

Damian sighed and leaned back against the bench, “Don’t stress too much about it Angel, inspiration will surly make its way to your lap in no time,” he gestured towards the book set on her thighs.

It seemed like someone was in fact listening to him. A pretty pink petal had landed in the middle of the sketchbook. Marinette picked it up curiously before letting out a gasp. She turned to Damian with the biggest smile he’d seen today, “My best friend Damian,” she started, “I was hit, by a little bitch called inspiration.”

Damian let out a laugh. Only Mari.

17 years old, the second step; accepting

Damian Wayne didn’t like a lot of people. And Chloe Bourgeois was far from being one of the few. She arrived in Gotham, claiming to be a friend of Marinette’s. He was doubtful but the girl kept insisting and frankly, he wanted her to shut up.

Turns out the blonde girl was right because the next think he knew she was being tackled by his best friend. They were both on the floor, laughing in the lobby of the student dorms.

They sat in the cafe and he couldn’t help but notice how much lighter Marinette seemed to feel with this girl. She looked happy.

Damian decided that Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t so bad. As long as he got to see his Angel smile, he was content.

18 years old, the third step; falling

Damian Wayne was not an emotional person. He didn’t cry when he failed that one exam. He didn’t cry when he got badly hurt in a fight (though he tried to reassure Mari he was okay but she was not having it and he kept flinching every time he moved). Hell, he didn’t even cry during graduation.

So you can imagine the shock he was feeling when he felt a tear rolling down his cheek as Marinette stepped out of her dorm room in her prom dress. He could see Olive smirking at him from the corner of his eye but he paid no attention to her, he was to busy gawking at the beauty in front of him.

He never left her side during the party. And if she ever walked off to talk to some friends, he would always be watching her. Some guys kept telling him how ‘whipped’ he was. He did was he did best and ignored them.

The last dance of the night was surely something he’d remember for the rest of the night. They held each other closely while the music was playing in the background. He stared at her bluebell eyes as though nothing else mattered. It was just them.

It was safe to say he wasn’t expecting a slow kiss. But it happened. He enjoyed it. And he kissed back.

19 years old, the fourth step; realizing

She left.

Well, not entirely. She just wasn’t in Gotham at the moment. And she wouldn’t be back until Christmas.

Marinette had gone off to college abroad, in Paris, specifically, to pursue her fashion career.

And even tough they video chatted every weekend, it wouldn’t fill the gaping hole in his chest. He wanted her there, with him. He wanted to snuggle up to her while they watched one of those cheesy rom-coms she enjoyed so much. He wanted to sit in the kitchens and watch her hum a Disney tune while she baked. He wanted to hold her whenever she cane running to him with good news. He wanted to be with her while she sat down and sketched. He thought it was adorable the way she scrunched her brows in concentration, or how she stuck her tongue out when she was sketching, or, whenever she had artist’s block, when she’d doodle little things on his hand. He wanted to hold her dammit. He wanted to take her out, court her. He wanted to be with her, and for her to be with him. He wanted to hug her so tightly and tell her how much he loved her.

Huh. Love.

That’s something he hadn’t thought about before. Did he love Marinette? Or was this just admiration?

No. Fuck that. Fuck admiration.

He loved her. He fucking loved her.

He was in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

20 years old, the final step; confessing

Damian Wayne was not nervous. Of course he wasn’t! He was Damian Wayne! He was Robin for fuck’s sake. Surely that would be harder than a little confession.

Right?

That was what he had initially thought.

And he was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Damian Wayne was a fucking wreck.

Marinette had been rambling about one of her design projects. One she, obviously, passed with flying colours. That wasn’t what he had been paying attention to though. Maybe it was how the July breeze seemed to brush her hair, making it fly. Maybe it was the way she used her hands so animatedly whenever she told him a story. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled when she got exited over something.

“I love you.”

That made her stop. And it made him regret opening his mouth.

She stared at him, mouth agape, face as red as the strawberries in the bowl she was holding.

“I...you...what?”

Well, he couldn’t take it back now. And he did mean it. God this was noth how he had imagined confessing.

“I love you,” he took a sharp breath, “I’ve loved you for quite some time now actually. I only realized it last year.”

He raked his had through this hair and let out a shaky breath, “I honestly don’t know how it happened, but it did. And I’m glad it it.”

He looked back at her to see how she’d react. Her eyes were still wide and it didn’t seem like she’d be saying anything so he decided to continue.

“You don’t have to answer immediately! I was uhh... wondering if... you would let me court you... you don’t have to accept I mean you already have so much going on but if you’re willing—”

He was cut off. It took him a second to process what was happening.

She was kissing him.

Holy shit! She was kissing him!

But before he could kiss back, she pulled away, much to his disappointment.

“I love you too, silly,”she gave him a big toothy grin, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could practically hear his hear beating in his chest.

She intertwined their hands and leaned in, “And I would love for you to court me.”

They were about to kiss again, but, this time, someone else decided to interrupt.

A faint ‘yes!’ was heard near the bushes, the voice sounded scarily familiar to Dick’s, which followed by a slap and an offended ‘ow’.

“Should we tell them we know they’re spying on us?”

His Angel laughed and shook her head, “Let them have their fun.”

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

Last post before I start school!

[reddieorrnot]

short soulmate au where richie is a little bitch :)

“So... I finally heard him last night.”

Eddie snapped his head up from his book and glanced over to Beverly. The redhead was perched on her bed, looking right back at him. It took him a second to realize what she meant, his eyes widening when he finally connected the dots. 

“Your soulmate?” He exclaimed, setting down the piece of fiction and crawling up to her bed to sit beside her body. She giggled at his excitement and gave him a small nod, her hair moving along with her head. “Well? How’d you do it?”

Everyone knew that when the time came, you could hear what your soulmate was hearing. It all came at its own moment though, if it was too early in one’s life or one of the soulmates weren’t ready yet, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything. But if it was the right time, communication could be done by talking out loud. The idea always excited Eddie, and it made him a tiny bit nervous at the same time. He, like most people, was a little anxious that their soulmate wouldn’t like them. Beverly always told him that was impossible because it would be his literal soulmate. He was also scared he would just never hear anything, that he just didn’t have a soulmate. 

Late at night every day, when he was positive his mother had fallen asleep, Eddie would lie in his bed looking up at the ceiling. He would close his eyes, and put all his focus on his hearing, listening to everything around him. He would try to find some sort of noise that sounded like it couldn’t be coming from his room, like some sort of cough or sneeze or anything. He would have taken anything at that point. And when he didn’t hear anything, Eddie would gently whisper into the night a small greeting, just in case his soulmate was too shy to speak first. He would do that daily and had done it for a while. But there was a consistent rate of failure. 

His personal disappointment, fortunately, did not cloud his happiness for Beverly, though. 

“Well, I just knew somehow when I started hearing him. Like even if there had been a highway next to me, which there wasn’t because I was just in my room, I would have heard even the quietest pin drop from his side.”

Eddie listened to her, lips parted in a tiny gasp, hanging onto her every word. Maybe it was because her words were so enchanting, or because she was so beautiful, but Eddie couldn’t tear his attention away no matter what. Beverly and he had been friends since sixth grade, now going onto 5 years as they started Junior year. Eddie would never understand why such a cool girl would ever want to be his friend. She wore the coolest clothes, listened to the coolest music. And Beverly even carried around gum and a small perfume for after she smoked, just for Eddie’s behalf. It was incredibly kind, and made Eddie feel like his opinion mattered. Beverly was one of the best things to ever happen to him. 

If I wasn’t gay, Eddie thought, I would wish for you to be my soulmate. 

“He was writing a poem, something about the seasons, and I guess I must have heard him proofreading it out loud. I was so freaked out, Eddie, you don’t understand,” By this point, Beverly had sat up and now was facing Eddie, clutching his hands on hers. “And then, I finally spoke. I was like, ‘Hello?’ and he immediately stopped talking. Probably from like... shock or something.”

“Then what?” 

“Then he replied, and he couldn’t believe he could hear me! He’s got the sweetest voice, I swear. We stayed up so late talking, just about ourselves and our lives. He actually doesn’t live too far...” Beverly’s gaze drifted from Eddie to out her window, it reminded Eddie of some cinematic moment, the way the light hit her eyes that you could see them twinkling. 

“Bev, what’s his name?”

She giggled again, “Oh gosh, I forgot to tell you that part, didn’t I? His name is Ben, Ben Hanscom.”

Eddie smiled and brought Beverly in for a hug, “I’m so happy for you.”

“I'm just not quite sure if he can always hear me, or if he just tries to? It’s all very peculiar.”

“You’ll figure it out, you always do.”

She pulled away from the hug and took Eddie’s hand within hers once more. “You’ll hear yours soon, Eddie. I know you will.”

“I hope.” 

- Three Months Later -

It was while he was sitting on his bed one afternoon, doodling on his AP Chemistry homework. Eddie’s day had been long, and excruciatingly boring. Mike, Beverly’s friend, had invited Eddie to go along with the two out to the town. Eddie had politely declined, even though it sounded fun, he’d much rather prefer simply relaxing at home. And that’s what he was doing, and he was, in fact, enjoying it very much.

Suddenly, Eddie heard the sound of a pencil dropping. The impacted surface sounded like wood, which didn’t make sense because Eddie’s room was carpeted, but he still leaned over the bed to check if one of his pens had rolled off. Seeing no indication of such, Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, leaning back into his old position. 

A few minutes later, Eddie heard the sound of something falling on the ground once again. This time it did not mirror the previous sound, differing from the phantom pencil that must have dropped. It was more hushed, something lighter. Eddie immediately jumped from his bed and looked all over his floor, searching for what had grabbed his attention. That’s when he heard it. 

A soft whisper filled Eddie’s ears, “Oh, you motherfuck, just land in the can.”

Eddie nearly jumped, desperately looking around his room for some intruder. Perhaps he could have chalked it up hearing his mother pass by his thin room walls, but the voice was too different from hers, even in its quiet state. That revelation prompted Eddie to realize what was occurring. His soulmate. If he hadn’t been nervous beforehand, when he believed someone was in his room, he sure as hell was nervous now. He moved to the edge of his bed in a rather slow fashion, leg bouncing as he sat down. As quick as he could, Eddie then mustered up enough courage to speak into the quiet environment around him. 

“Hello?” 

There was no way Eddie could deny he heard a sharp inhale be taken right after he said that simple word. Something told him that his soulmate was most probably as nervous as he was now. Silence returned and Eddie was about to start convincing himself he was going crazy when a voice filled his ears once more. 

“Holy shit, I mean, hey?”

They were definitely a guy, Eddie thought. It sounded like someone his age, but Eddie had a hard time painting a mental image of him in his head. 

“Hi... I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what to say...” Eddie struggled to come up with a coherent thought, phrases sprinting into his mind and leaving just as rapidly. In all honesty, he wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason he had spoken again was to hear his newly found soulmate’s voice. 

“I, uh, I actually know exactly what to say to you...” The sentence made Eddie’s breath get stuck in his throat, as he located the shy tone coming from the other boy. The shyness didn’t do any diminishing toward his deeper voice though, it wasn’t Mike deep but definitely not Eddie’s higher voice. He felt a little self-conscious for a second about how possibly sounded but quickly shook the thought away. 

“You know exactly what to say to me?” Eddie leaned back into his bed, hugging himself, trying to knot away from the nerves in his stomach. What could his soulmate have to say? Had he planned it out for the first time he would hear Eddie? Was Eddie really that important to someone, where they had prepared for their meeting? All these questions made Eddie’s brain buzz, as he couldn’t focus on anything. 

“Yeah... I’ve been waiting to hear you,” Eddie’s thoughts were confirmed.

“Really? Tell me what you have to say.”

“Okay, just listen, though, alright?” 

The verb use made Eddie chuckle, “As if I wasn’t already doing that?”

“Okay, whatever,” The other boy was laughing too, “Just... listen...”

Eddie nodded, then remembered no one could see him, so he mumbled a small, “I understand.”

There was quiet for a second, then the small noise of gentle tapping. He couldn’t pinpoint what could be making the noise, perhaps Richie had written what he had to say on some note. It was all Eddie could assume, as he was a little lost. He continued to do as said, keeping quiet and simply focusing on his sense of hearing. 

Then some familiar music began to play, it had some beat filled intro, and once again, Eddie couldn’t pinpoint what song was. It had a piece of upbeat music and it was so familiar. 

Then it hit him.

“Are you fucking-”

“We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I,” 

“I cannot fucking believe-” 

“A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy,”

“Do you know how goddamn annoying-” 

“I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand,” 

“Holy christ, please turn it off before it gets to the-”

“Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you,“ 

It was a few lyrics afterward where the boy ended up pausing the song, to which Eddie believed he only did because his so-called soulmate started laughing so hard both of them could barely either Rick Astley at that point.

“I wish there was a way I could hang up on you after that,” Eddie said with an exhausted sigh. This only made the other boy laugh again. 

“Well aren’t you fun, I’m Richie,” The name gave Eddie butterflies, and hearing that voice made him melt right back into the previous puddle.

“Richie, you are incredibly annoying.”

“No, I’m not annoying, I just told you I’m Richie!” When Eddie groaned in response, Richie continued, “Okay, now tell me your name.”

“Why should I?”

“Because we’re soulmates, duh.”

It was obviously a good reason, but Eddie still rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. 

“My name is Eddie.”

“That’s absolutely adorable. Eddie... Eds.” 

“Don’t you dare call me that!” 

“Too late, you cutie.”

Even though he had instantly refuted it, Eddie knew that deep inside he actually hadn’t hated that nickname as much as he had let on. And he also knew he definitely didn’t find Richie all that annoying.

But hey, he wasn’t about to just say that, was he? 

[writethehousedown]

Steady by your side, keep me in the light (Jaida x Nicky)

A/N: Jaida and Nicky hold eachother up through the worse of senior year

Nicky was not stupid. Jaida knew that, their friends knew that, and, at a rational level, Nicky herself knew that too. It was just their teachers who seemed to disagree.

Since moving to the States, she had been struggling with most subjects. Studying in her second language took her twice as long and left her exhausted, and sometimes she gave up halfway through the unit and researched the topic in online French textbooks, hoping they covered everything her teachers would ask from her. Her grades had taken a nosedive and her current GPA was barely hanging above the 3.63 required by her first choice college.

Jaida did her best to help her, but between basketball practice, her internship and her own load of high school work, they barely had enough time for two study dates a week. Nevermind actual dates. Senior year was riding them hard and there was no break in sight. On the rare moments of peace (about five minutes long each), Jaida daydreamed about the summer she would spend with her girlfriend. Two months of getting drunk with their friends and laying next to the pool without moving a muscle to recover from the mental wreckage of senior year, before everyone packed up their whole lives and moved away.

But first, they had finals to pass.

Jaida sat on her bedroom desk, with her laptop open to a new document and a copy of The Old Man and the Sea, which she was coloring with annotated post-its. Every couple of minutes, she glanced at her phone. Nicky was supposed to have joined her half an hour ago, and she hadn’t even texted. Jaida forced herself not to worry; she knew Nicky had stayed after class to talk to her civics teacher about an assignment for extra credit.

If she doesn’t show signs of life in the next fifteen minutes, I’m calling her.

She didn’t have to, because just a few minutes later, she heard the front door opening and the voices of her mom and her girlfriend talking, followed by steps approaching her room.

The door flew open and Nicky dragged her feet to the bed, where she flopped face down. Jaida watched her dramatics, amused.

“Sooo, how did it go?”

“Hmhht mhmhnt,” said Nicky, face buried into the mattress.

“Come again? Maybe lift your head.”

“I got the assignment.”

“Why so down, then?”

Nicky rolled onto her back and faced her girlfriend. “He wants me to write about threats to democracy, which sounds extremely depressing. And we’re both getting fashion bachelors! Why do we need to understand gerrymandering?”

“Because we live in Missouri. Why did you even take AP government?”

“I freaked out about the GPA, because I’m dumb.”

Jaida raised an eyebrow at her. “Nicolette.”

Nicky closed her eyes and breathed out.

“I’m not dumb. I’m smart. I’m just stressed, and that’s okay.”

Jaida’s expression softened as she walked towards the bed. “That’s better,” she praised, sitting next to her. “Let’s get the lit essay over with, then I’ll help you with civics.”

Nicky sat up and collapsed against Jaida. “D’accord. Hemingway can suck a dick, though.”

Jaida smiled and pressed her lips against Nicky’s temple. “On that, we can agree.”

____________________________________________________

Two thousand words each and a coffee break later, the girls sat on the bed, facing the laptop.

“You misspelled ‘onomatopoeia’, here,” said Jaida, pointing at the screen. Nicky leaned forward to fix it.

backspace backspace backspace

“You also used ‘allusion’ instead of ‘allegory’.”

Nicky frowned.

“Allusions describe ideas through characters and storylines, no?”

“No, that’s allegories. Allusions are just references to important people or events.”

backspace backspace backspace

“And you listed foreshadowing under figures of speech, but it isn’t.”

“Why did I… oh,” said Nicky, closing her fists and rubbing her eyes. “It’s préfiguration in French. I got confused. I hate this fucking language.”

Nicky fell onto Jaida and buried her face on her neck. Jaida started playing with Nicky’s hair with one hand and kept marking the essay with the other. She corrected one, two, three misspellings before she felt kisses along her neck clouding her judgement.

“Baby, focus, come on,” she said, jolting her shoulder. Nicky persisted.

“Nooo. You’re much more interesting than Hemingway.”

“Girl, the bar is so low…”

“Five minute break?” asked Nicky, and grazed Jaida’s skin with her teeth.

That was a step too far, because Jaida pulled away and grabbed Nicky’s face in her hands.

“Nicolette. Behave.”

Nicky huffed and fell face down on the bed, screaming into the pillow. Jaida rolled her eyes and poked her side.

“Get up, drama club. We’re not done.” Jaida slapped Nicky’s thigh, expecting her to sit up and retaliate.

Instead, Jaida noticed, her back started shaking.

“Nicks?” she said, laying down next to her.

The only response was a sob.

“Oh, baby, no, come here…” Jaida pulled Nicky close, until she could press kisses all over her face.

They stayed like that, with Jaida rubbing circles on Nicky’s back, until the sobs subsided and Nicky could speak again.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m acting like a brat,” she said, wiping her eyes forcefully.

“You’re not a brat, you’re a senior in finals,” said Jaida, kissing her hairline. “I cried in the gym showers twice this week; you’re doing just fine. What’s going on?”

“I’m scared about this class. It took me forever to read that stupid book, I even had to read a summary in French because I kept getting lost. And I still have to memorize the forty fucking words there are to say ‘metaphor’ and I’m already getting a headache.”

Jaida laughed and rolled onto her back, dragging Nicky with her.

“There’s only five, we’ll go over them later.” Nicky hummed in agreement and settled on her girlfriend’s chest.

A few moments later, she broke the silence.

“So… why were you crying?”

Nicky felt Jaida’s breathing stutter under her cheek. She ran her nails between Jaida’s clavicles and waited.

Jadia took a moment to answer.

“Bio’s kicking my ass,” she sighed. “Mrs. Jensen’s been lenient, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “She’s not gonna bump up my grade just ‘cause I ask her. I either do well in the final, or I kiss you and our college goodbye.”

Nicky propped herself up and looked at Jaida, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“What did you say?”

Jaida stared at the wall and shrugged dismissively.

“We never discussed long-distance. All of our plans assume we’ll be living on the same campus, but if I don’t get in and you do, I don’t- I’m not sure what that’s gonna look like.”

Jaida feels Nicky’s hand on her cheek, tilting her face forward.

“First of all, I’ve seen your grades. You just need an eight. You’re getting an eight, Jaida, it’s you. And second of all,” she dropped ‘till their noses were touching, “it’s cute how you think that long distance is enough to get rid of me,” Nicky said, poking her tongue out and licking Jaida’s lips.

Jaida grinned, big and toothy, and pushed Nicky off. Her girlfriend fell on her back, laughing.

“Fuck off, I’m trying to open up, bitch.”

Nicky took her hand and smiled at her “I know. I love you.” She turned to face her. “I’m going to be serious, now.”

“Oh, no…”

Nicky lightly bumped Jaida’s chin with her knuckles. “Whatever the next years will look like, here, in Missouri, in fucking Antartica, I don’t see a life without you in it. I love my family, and our friends, but you’re the person who’s made these past years bearable.”

Jaida smiled and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to get emotional at the memory of little fifteen-year-old Nicky. Jaida had seen her all lonely and lost that first week of class and sauntered into her life, and they just hadn’t parted ways since.

“Remember when you first moved here? You were so quiet and shy, it was adorable. Now I can never get you to shut up.”

“You have your methods,” Nicky smirked. “Speaking of which…”

“We’re not done with your essay, Nicks.”

Nicky pouted and put on her best puppy eyes. Jaida could feel her resolve slipping.

“Don’t give me those eyes, that’s not fair…”

Nicky leaned in to kiss Jaida’s nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

“Break now?”

Jaida moved on top of Nicky and kissed her back, slow and sweet.

“You get ten minutes.”

“Fine by me.”