#no one remembers the og post but every time i have more than one lip balm on me i think of it bc it really is true

[bunnyb34r]

Holy shit I got the s'mores chapstick pack for Christmas and the marshmallow one is soooooo good sgdgfghf I wanna eat it

[roachemoji]

A “Guide” to working with Artists with Aphantasia

DISCLAIMER: 

I KNOW ARTISTS WITHOUT APHANTASIA ALSO USE REFERENCES

This is not going to be applicable to ALL artists (with OR WITHOUT aphantasia)

I don’t speak for everyone!!!

PLEASE Read the information artists provide you THUROUGHLY

ASK ARTISTS WHAT KIND OF INFORMATION THEY NEED

I’m sorry about the typos I am dyslexic and no one is beta reading this :3c

HERE IS THE OG TWITTER POST

I made this guide out of frustration. I was having a hard time communicating with commissioners how much visual information I needed, and that giving me creative freedom doesn’t, personally, work for me. It all comes down to the why; Aphantasia. 

... I realized a lot of people don’t understand what that is, and how it might affect an artist. 

Note: I am a character artist!!! I do personal commissions!!!! I don’t do commercial work!! This guide is about things that I have found extremely helpful!! This may not work for everyone!!!!!!!!!!! 

So, here is the official written guide to what I, personally, have found helpful when getting commissions:

A healthy dose of both written and visual information is needed, but the percentage of which heavily depends on the type of commission and how familiar I am with the characters. 

- Is it an illustration of a scene between two character? Descriptive information on the scene, the emotions, general vibe, dialogue are more important to the composition - but visual references on each character (and their characteristics), the space, the palette, and any objects would be needed. 

- Is it a reference sheet commission? Descriptive information is no longer as important, and the main focus is on the visuals. Descriptive information would be limited to a brief description of personality, placement of certain markings, and/or the written information on the reference. Visuals would be EVERYTHING - every single aspect of that character would need a reference. 

Google Docs, Google Drives, PDFs, Character pages (Toyhou.se or Refsheet.net) is an easy way to compile both written and visual information in one place! 

What is some good visual information to compile for your characters? 

Physical

Age/Race/height/body type

Skin colour/ scars/ freckles/ skin conditions etc

Eye colour/shape

Nose shape

Hair colour/texture/style/decorations

Any additional details (prosthetics limbs/no limbs!/tattoos/piercings/wings)

Face Claims are extremely helpful - and it’s okay to have more than one!  It’s good to specify which parts of what reference are important to your character

Items

Clothing/Jewelry/Accessories

Weapons

Personal Items

Companions

Here is an example of how I organize my Pinterest boards for my own Ocs:

Appearance: Every single visual reference I would need for their physical appearance. Faceclaims, hair styles/texture/colours, facial hair, body types, hand shapes, nose shapes, lip shapes, eye shapes

Aesthetic: Helpful for illustrations. Palettes and aesthetics that I attribute to these characters. Art styles, symbols, colours, settings, etc...

Outfits: Outfits and accessories. Full outfits or single items, textures, colours, patterns.

NOTE: It’s important to remember that some artists can only work with certain references (ie. drawn references vs photo references). If you’re unsure/your artists hasn’t stated which works best for them - ask!  

I cannot work with drawn references in simplistic styles (anime specifically), and I struggle with using nothing but Final Fantasy screenshots. They’re important when it comes to providing colour or even outfit references - but facial features are much harder for me to translate.

Some artists are okay with things like piccrews and can translate them very well! I can’t.

What is some good visual information to compile for your characters?

Written information can vary from commission to commission; unless the illustration is based off a story, I don’t need a novel to be written about the piece. 

Being dyslexic also makes it a struggle for me to parse through written information - I tend to have to break it down outside of the initial commission submission to fully understand what. I also tend to ask a ton more questions when I’m provided more written information than visual - revisions take time and energy.

It’s important to have visual to accompany your written info; 

( shout out to @moki-dokie​ for letting me use their info as an example!! )

Commission information examples 

DESIGN COMMISSIONS:

Info given:

Outcome: 

Easiest character design commission I have ever done. The information given was so concise that the only revisions were my own suggestions on the design itself. 

---

Info Given:

Outcome:

a TON of written information was given to explain the characters backstory, to further drive my understand of the aesthetic and setting of the world the character lives in. The pinterest board provided had a lot physical references, outfits, aesthetics, and colours.

---

ILLUSTRATION COMMISSIONS:

Info Given:

Outcome:

I had a lot of previous information on both of these characters (I designed the top one myself), but I was provided limited written information for this; Holiday Discord call where Toad (character one) is getting a present from Zalem (character two). Zalem is barely hiding how they feel about Toad who is excited.

 All other information provided was visual; Outfits and room aesthetics. 

We discussed poses in Dms and collaboratively found references.

---

Info Given:

Outcome: 

Absolute favorite example of the PERFECT amount of information given and the PERFECT amount of creative freedom given. 

I was handed character references with all angles as well as their armor + how to simply the armor. Pose + expression references. A general aesthetic + palette to work with. The setting. A doodle to lay out exactly what they were visualizing. 

I have all the information you could need! Now what?

I am very privileged to no longer need to take first come first serve commissions, and it’s given me the ability to really sit back and filter through the commissions that I want to do, and those that I immediately do not consider. 

I think it’s important that,  before commissioning anyone, you should ask yourself a couple important questions:

Does this artist’s style suit what I want?

Does my character suit what this artist usually draws?

Do the references I have provide the right amount of information for the specific artist I want to commission?

Sometimes the answer to these questions are; No.

... and that’s okay?

Unfortunately, not every artist is going to be able to bring your vision to life, or feel happy with the completed piece! 

If you’re someone who has Big Buff Demon Men characters that are drawn in a heavily realistic style - you might not ask an artist who draws smaller, softer characters with squishier shapes and a general aesthetic that doesn’t match your Ocs! 

If you’re someone who has characters and all of their references are in an anime style (including other commissioned work), and you have no realistic face claims... maybe commissioning that semi-realistic artist and not providing them with the references the need to translate your character into a semi-realistic style isn’t a good idea? 

I don’t understand when some people get upset when they commission an artist who clearly doesn’t draw characters that look like theirs and they clearly... don’t translate them as well.  I am making this extremely clear RIGHT NOW before anyone says anything:  Everyone can and SHOULD learn to draw the entire spectrum of humanity. From facial features, hair textures, body types, etc...

But some artists struggle to draw characters with certain aesthetics? Outfits? Accessories? You wouldn’t expect an artist who draws soft pastel art to suddenly translate your extremely rough, hard, and hot character properly?

Now, if all the answers are Yes? 

Read all information provided thoroughly 

Ask questions for clarity

Provide what you can, collaborate on what you can’t

Resources

@anonbeadraws​ post: Reference sheet for your commission references!

JAMIErightmeow’s video: I have APHANTASIA

Aphantasia Dot Com

[nyimasu]

LET ME SHOW YOU — AKI, KISHIBE X FEM!READER

— CW : devil!reader, poly relationship, smoking, nipple play, oral (f receiving), face-fucking, slight age gap, praise kink, master kink (?), pet names, cowgirl, little surprise at the end

— WORD COUNT : 3.2k┊AO3 LINK

NOTE : posting this as an early birthday gift from me to me so this is pretty self-indulgent *sighs* P.S : this is clearly a repost since I deleted the og post by accident <;/3 Enjoy!

Oh, how exciting it is to have both your partners at home for dinner.

Except they’re playing poker to decide which one of them gets to call dibs on you.

Your eyes linger on one of the shirts on the carpet, right where Aki threw his not so long ago. Now bare chested, his dark happy trail half hidden by the jeans he’s still miraculously wearing. The Devil Hunter is combative and none of his friends stand a chance whenever he decides to give his all. Even Makima admires his strong heart and resolution. However, his passion never matches his actions.

Despite his unyielding will and best efforts, your boyfriend is really unlucky. Especially when his competitor is your other partner.

Chin pressed on top of your shoulder, Aki looks at you and curses under his breath, "Fuck. It seems I won’t get to taste you first.

Again."

It's so rare to see him pout, and even more so to glance over at your other other half and see him smirk.

Heart aching for Aki, you press a kiss on his forehead and smile. "I’m fine with that, my love. Remember: he who is last shall be first." Right after you say that long, practised fingers caress your bare thighs. Digits that have explored each and every part of you infinite nights and days.

The coolness of the ring on his middle finger, so thin no one knows it's there but you, manages to elicit soft moans every single time the old man touches you — his dirty blonde hair frames the face of a Hunter who’s seen everything and fought against unimaginable threats.

The round table between your men is crowded, and its legs fades in the background as your eyes land on both their fingertips on you. Suddenly the air is burning your body, or maybe it’s just Kishibe’s raspy voice laced with smoke that's scratching the inside of your lungs, playing tricks on you. He’d laid out his cards on the table a while ago, his index and middle finger now holding a cigarette close to his lips. 

Sitting on the floor, you had shivered a few times because of its chilliness, but nothing of it remains and vanishes from under you, replaced by white jabs of arousal hitting your lower stomach when a puff of fume surrounds you three. Kishibe exhales thoroughly, piercing gaze cutting through the tobacco cloud to stare at you and Aki. You notice he’s smoking less than usual tonight,less frequently at leatst, and so does the young Devil Hunter. 

Odd.

“I call dibs, darling. You’re my lucky charm. I can’t help but win every time, you know that. Hey, youngling. Want me to teach you a lesson on how to make the girl’s body sing? It might bring you better luck next time.”

Startled, your head falls back on its own when he kneads the expanse of skin next to your crotch, but you still manage to bare your teeth at him. You're not a big fan of teasing and Kishibe knows that, yet he turns into a different man whenever his hands are on you.

Biting the tender flesh of his lips, Aki glances at you both. Impatience and a bit of arousal is written all over his face as he kisses your neck ever so lightly, eyes still on the older Devil Hunter. He’s not buying it.

“Pff, as if I’ve never made her cum.” “And? You see,” Kishibe leans closer to put out the cigarette in the ashtray, then rests his other hand on you. More specifically, one on your thigh and the other buried in your hair. He's so close you can almost see your eyes reflected in his. “Making her come won’t suffice. You have to seduce her, cherish her. Worship her every inch, in and out.” 

You frown at the man through lidded eyes and scoff, but he suddenly tilts your head towards him by the chin, not in the mood to be played with. Before you can protest, his fingers dig into your thigh to get your attention and when he does, his lips clash against yours. 

Clever man. Kisses are one of your biggest weaknesses. 

“The more you satisfy her, the more is her reward for you. Isn’t that right?”  It's a rhetorical question so you just sigh in the kiss, allowing your body to relax against Aki while his eye-line drowns in your heaving chest and Kishibe’s little smirk. It’s subtle but it’s there, ghosting his lips.

The hitched scar on the man's left cheek brushes your right one when he dips his head down, right where your nipples stand proud against the sweater you’re wearing. The fabric is flimsy, and when his teeth graze them, a shameless moan escapes you. It's as if nothing stands between his excitement and your despair.

“Kishibe.”

Aki scoffs and adjusts his position next to you. He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one of them out of habit. He'll need to keep his mouth occupied before Hell’s gate opens. And it does right at that moment, as Kishibe places a kiss on your clothed tit before breaking away. But he does so with a little bite and the look you shoot at him is ruinous, deadly. 

The strongest Devil Hunter alive never allows others to order him around. But when it comes to you, he’s putty in your hands. That doesn’t mean he’ll go down on his knees without a fight.

He’s as stoic as ever when he replies, eyes glued to yours.  Two words, and fire starts to corrode your veins.   

“Game’s over.”

Whoosh.

In a blink of an eye, the coffee table spills out whatever is on there right on the parquet, Aki’s free hand wiping away every thing on it with a single, smooth motion. And without further ado, Kishibe steps back to lay on it. 

He never stops staring at your engrossed form, not even when you follow his lead and rise to your feet. You feel so light-headed that you almost crash against the floor if it wasn’t for Aki catching you by the arm. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek as a thank you, you turn again to join the older Hunter.

“Watch, Aki. Learn,” instructs Kishibe while taking your hand in his, groaning internally when the warmth of your thighs imprints itself on his as you straddle him. The hip flask he always carries with him brushes against you as he continues. “A lesson is about to be taught. Come closer.”

Was it an order for you both? When you look down to see what he's talking about, his orbs are roaming your body. You are far too clothed for his liking.

A gentle tap on your ass cheek, and you immediately oblige. Aki watches like a hawk as you grab the hems of your sweater, the one you stole from him last week, and get rid of it in a split second. And the sight of your naked self goes straight to both men’s cocks. 

You had nothing underneath. No bra or panties whatsoever. Why bother?

So it goes without saying that the view of your bare tits slightly bouncing with your every movement is more than welcomed. And the spectacle of your glistening pussy drenching Kishibe’s crotch has the Hunters' self-control hanging by a thread.

The moment Aki is able to focus again, he notices Kishibe’s rough hands covering your breast. But the moment is brief, for the blonde-haired Hunter tilts his head towards him and suggests, “Want to take my place?”

Aki gulps and you glance at him, eyes beaming with anticipation to see if he is going to accept the other's offer. Usually he likes to think with his own head, but not today.

To your surprise he nods, and the boy's spidery digits come into the frame. The other hand is still holding the cigarette, and another puff of chocolate-laced smoke crashes against your face as he replies with a soft, "It'd be my pleasure."

Both being people of few words, your partners prefer to show their feelings through actions and today, the first to shower you in affection is the experienced, attentive, God-sent Devil Hunter. 

Aware of your train of thoughts, Kishibe rests both his hands on your ass cheeks, then tuts at you. “Pussy in my face. Now.” 

You are going to be quite sore for days to come because Kishibe loves to eat pussy, and he’s a fucking champ in that department. He’s so good at it because he never stops until your pussy goes numb on his tongue.

Your fingers dance on his chest as you climb up on him, eventually raising yourself until your pussy is an inch away from his mouth. The heat alone almost brings Kishibe to grunt, fog clouding his mind and cock straining against his pants, but he pushes aside his needs. 

Rather, he watches as your legs on either side of his face quiver and a fresh bead of slick rolls down them. Without missing a beat, he snakes out his tongue and licks your inner thigh, humming in unison with Aki. 

Gentle, devastating Aki content with how desperate you are starting to look, especially when his thumb start to play with your nipples. Eyes wide in need, you lurch forward to snap at him but Kishibe’s grip on you grows tighter. 

“Focus on me, darling.” he helps you descend on his open mouth, pushing you by the crack between your ass cheeks and thighs, this time moaning out loud under you as the fruity taste of your juices hit his tongue again.

You mewl, vibrations echoing in your needy walls as your hands find harbour in his hair and on Aki’s hips. His soft chuckles, mingled with sweet praises flying over your head such as “look at how needy you are, baby” and “want me to suck on your tits?” turn into full-on groans the moment you tug him forward, forcing him to bend enough for you to kiss him.

The flavour of tobacco and chocolate still linger on his tongue as he slips it in your mouth, and he's so lust-driven that he abandons his cigarette on the ashtray, almost throwing it as he keeps stroking his tongue with yours. He almost set the flat on fire but fuck if your lips don't taste like heaven.

But you haven’t forgotten about Kishibe, and he’s aware of it.

As he runs his wet, tensed muscle up your folds you grind lazily on his mouth, moans swallowed by Aki. Then, as you and the boy begin to spiral, Kishibe's hands shift positions. One on your hip bone, the other squeezing your ass.

His breath ghosts over your pussy once more as he stares up at you, throwing Aki a knowing look at the same time when he moves backward to catch some breath. 

“Feels good, darling?” Kishibe asks and before you can even open your mouth to answer, the dull ache between your legs disappears under the relentless pace he sets, lips latching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves once more, sucking and licking it until you manage to throw back your head and hiss through your teeth, shoving your hand deeper in his hair with a choked: “Ooooh, shit.”

“Language.” remarks Aki. “Fuck me.” “I plan to.” A wicked smile on his lips has you babbling both their names, because the man under you is now dangerously close to ease a finger in your other hole. It’s making him feel dizzy, to have it within reach but unable to act. Some other time, maybe. 

Aki in the meantime steps backward, lips leaving yours as fast as they came. You whine at the lack of warmth but Kishibe slaps your ass, motioning for you to move faster on his tongue. 

“Aki, please.” desperate is your voice and the boy’s hair, free to flow around his face, is now gliding onto your heated skin like a silken river ready to sooth you. It finally stops flowing a moment later, tongue circling your nipple as he simply gazes at you from above, eyes devouring every detail of yours.  “Oh, love,” his feather-like touches are driving you insane. “You’re being so good to us.”

Then a smirk sprawled across his lips, left hand caressing your side with gentle strokes, until he takes half of your boob in his mouth. He is boiling. “May I?” it's merely a whisper, yet you hear it pulsing in waves around you.

At first you think he’s asking so to you and you stare at him, confused. Then a short ‘hm-hm’ ricochets in your body. The old man has granted him permission to ravish your body. 

Hell, Devil Hunters.

Aki’s touch is more delicate than Kishibe’s but craving nonetheless. You inhale through your nose when both men adjust to each other’s ministrations and you, willing victim, are about to come. It’s too much.

Your muscles tense, digits yanking at Kishibe's locks, and he retaliates by nosing your clit with force, while Aki rolls your perked mound on his tongue, breathing on it to elicit more sweet wails from you. He achieves it, and you're a whimpering mess when Kishibe chuckles: “There you are, ready to unravel for us. Don’t hold back.”

Back arched and toes curled, your orgasm washes all over you stronger than expected and your thighs cage the blonde’s head, nails digging into his scalp. He gives two fucks about it because honestly, there are worse ways to die, and you crushing him to death as he tongues you throughout the moment isn’t one of them. 

The boy in front of you continues to worship your tits, just like Kishibe said, ‘cause he’s a sucker for you. Every morsel of you is lovely and ready to be loved. 

Now, as his vision tunnels on your fucked-out expression, fingers now untangling from the old man's hair, Kishibe gathers your juices on his tongue and swallows it with a low groan. “Delicious.” he comments on you, and another wave of arousal coats your thighs at the explicit praise.

And Aki grasps fully what the other man tried to explain earlier. What a view; Kishibe on the other hand seems deeply pleased, you can see it in his eyes.

None of you say anything for a while, and you sigh when both of them start to kiss whatever part of you they can reach: inner thighs, breasts, belly. 

But once back on Earth, you’re the one to surprise them.

Feet touching the ground you get up, stretching a bit like a kitten after a long nap under the sun, then your hands are on Kishibe again.  What is left of his poise crumbles the moment you bare his cock.

It slaps against his stomach, thick and heavy with cum oozing from the slit on its head and your lust-blown eyes land on him as you lick your lips and straddle his lap again. 

“Oh, Kishibe. Would you indulge me for a moment? Thanks, baby and Aki,” you lock eyes with the dark-haired Hunter as you grab the base of Kishibe’s length. You impale yourself on his cock, the action awarding you with a strained moan from the Hunter under you as you lower yourself on him. Inch by inch, breath after breath.

When you bottom out with a sated gasp, your gaze meets Aki's. “Now I’m going to teach you a lesson. Can you pay attention a little bit more? Then I’m all yours.” He nods, eyes transfixed on the scene before him. Smiling, you trace your lips down to Kishibe, pestering his face with soft kisses before a feeble, innocent word leaves your lips. 

The only one you know demolishes every sense of decency the Devil Hunter may still possess. “Mas-”

He doesn’t even let you finish. The look in his eyes is one of a starved man, and that’s what you need right now.

His hips snaps against yours abruptly, fucking into you from underneath as he gingerly sits on the table, grounding your hips on him to keep hammering into your cunt, walls fluttering and clenching around his cock. Moaning, you run your fingers through your hair while your other hand quickly returns to hook itself onto Aki’s belt loops. When you bury your other one into Kishibe's hair again, his low growl has you breathless but he spares you a quick look before plating his fingers in the small of your back, keeping you still.

After you look up to Aki, he glimpses the neediness in your eyes. That's all he needs.

He discards his pants on the floor in no time, freeing his dick from the constraint of his underwear in the process. You take in how flush and jumpy your boyfriend is with a pleased purr, but just for a moment. There’ll be plenty of time to praise them both after. As of now, you’re far too horny for that. 

Staring at his cock, you moan at the feeling of Kishibe filling you up. But something’s missing.

“My love,” you repeat, luring Aki to his petite mort. 

He’s always so eager, and Kishibe is no less. They jerk up at the faintest of touches — yours.

Once he’s close enough, you rest a cheek against the neat groom of pubic hair, inhaling his scent as he sucks in a breath.

God, are you sure she’s not the Sex Devil? he wonders when you look up at him with siren eyes.

Precum spurts long streaks of arousal on your cheek, painting onto it as if you’re a breathing work of art. The finest being clothed in jasmine flowers and lavender mist. 

Cum smears your face but it doesn’t faze you, instead you kiss the vein running along his shaft before savouring his release by sucking on your lower lip. As you smile, your fingers trace his happy trail to then grab his balls, fondling them as the boy lets out a startled gasp.

“It’s no easy thing to bind the Soul Devil. No one ever succeeded until you two came along,” you lower your voice as if to murmur the dirtiest of truths. “You gave me your souls, you know, and in return I gifted you both with my everything. I won't lie: I've grown quite fond of you. So it comes as unsurprising if I say I’m always in charge, even when it seems I’m not. Am I right, Kishibe?”

He nods, face stuffed with your tits as he continues to fuck you raw. Your knowing eyes enchant Aki even more and he relishes in your presence. You drag him closer and he shudders, blue eyes still on your face. 

Your fingers finally rise a little, and your thumb is pressed on his flush tip dusted with a darker shade of pink as you smirk, lewd words leaving you as your lips crash against his cock again.  “I am no mere human. I'm something else. To love me is to die for me, over and over again. But you know all this, uhm? Now adore me, kiss the very ground I walk if you want my love. You can do it, can’t you, my love?”

You are something else entirely, indeed.

© azanthys — do not copy, translate or share my works.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Harry Styles — Hometown Show, Part 1

There will be a part 2 to this, coming on Saturday. After that, I have a few more one shots to post next week, and then in November I will be starting a 12-part series so get excited!

Masterlist

You’re My Kryptonite

On the day off between the St. Louis and Philadelphia shows, you knocked on Harry’s hotel room door, shifting nervously from one foot to the other while you waited for him to answer.

“Y/N, hi, what’s up?” he asked, face lighting up as soon as he saw you standing there. He opened the door a bit wider, standing to the side. “Come in, come in.”

You walked into the room, letting him lead you over to the couch in the living room area.

“I was just about to open some wine, want a glass?” he asked, motioning for you to sit as he headed over to the kitchenette. He didn’t wait for a reply, and pulled a second wine glass down for you.

“Sure, thanks,” you said, thinking some liquid courage is just what you needed. Your hometown shows were coming up, and you had a favor to ask Harry. He had told you in the past that anything you need is yours, but you still felt awkward asking for things, especially in this strange more-than-friends-but-not-really-together phase you were in.

He came back with two full glasses of red, and you took yours gratefully, taking a long sip. He settled onto the opposite side of the couch with his feet tucked under him, looking younger than he actually was.

“Enjoying your day off?” You asked, stalling a bit.

“I am now,” he said, winking over his glass at you as he took a sip. You felt your cheeks heat up in a blush, taking another sip to try and hide it. “So what brings you here? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, I wanted to see you, for one thing,” you said, laughing nervously. “But I do have an ulterior motive. I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything you want, you got it, babe.” Your blush burned brighter as you turned to face him completely.

“Well, um, as you know, I went to college in Chicago and I was hoping I could invite some of my old sorority sisters. Just a few, though, because I hated most of them.” You chuckled at that last bit, remembering all of the drama that went down behind the walls of the Delta Nu house.

“Invite the whole damn sorority if you want to!” He said, laughing jovially. “Y/N, you were a sorority girl?”

“All four years, believe it or not,” you admitted sheepishly. “Delta Nu or die, baby.” He squinted his eyes, looking at you intently.

“Somehow I just don’t see it.”

“I did almost get kicked out like three times, but that’s a story for another time.”

“I’m holding you to that. But seriously, text me their names and I’ll make sure they’re on the list for pit tickets and access to VIP. And this should be obvious, but I know you’re not likely to do it unless I explicitly tell you that it’s okay, but bring them to the after party at the hotel, too.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You squealed and set your wine down on the coffee table carefully before launching yourself across the couch and wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“Whoa, watch the wine!” He exclaimed, laughing and trying to hold his glass steady. His free arm snaked its way around your back, holding you snugly to his side.

“But seriously, thank you,” you whispered once you had calmed down a little bit. “It will mean the world to them. We were in college during the peak One Direction days. I’m pretty sure we danced to One Thing at, like, every single sorority function.”

“Not What Makes You Beautiful?”

“That song made many guest appearances, but no. We were just indie like that I guess.”

“Now that I believe.” You sat in silence for a moment, both sipping from your wine.

“You weren’t even my favorite, you know,” you said, nonchalantly.

“What?” He exclaimed, looking genuinely hurt.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. I was a Zayn girl. He was the OG One Direction sex symbol. And PILLOWTALK walked so Watermelon Sugar could run.” Harry stuck his bottom lip out into a pout, making you laugh. You leaned in to give him a quick peck, and muttered against his lips. “Don’t worry, you’re my favorite now.”

When you got back to your hotel room, you texted your “Delta Nu Misfits” group chat that operation Love on Tour Chicago night 1 was a go and started counting down the days ‘til the show.

***

The day of the show, your excitement was through the roof. Harry had told you to take the day off, but you knew that you needed work to focus on or else the day would seem to drag by, especially since your friends weren’t going to be driving in from the burbs until after they were done with their 9-5s.

At around 4, you were hanging out backstage with some other members of the crew while you all waited for Harry to finish his soundcheck. You were chatting with Jeff, practically bouncing with excitement, when Harry burst through the curtains, slightly sweaty but looking particularly delicious in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Thank god for gray sweats, you thought, swooning internally.

He made a beeline to you and plucked the energy drink out of your hand, tilting his head back and finishing the last few sips.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, reaching to grab the can back. He pulled it up, higher than you could reach, laughing as you jumped to try and get it.

“I need this more than you do,” he said seriously. “And I’m concerned about your heart; I think this much caffeine mixed with the adrenaline that’s practically radiating off of you is actually lethal.”

“You’re mean,” you said, pouting at him.

“And you should be getting ready to meet your friends,” he said, “Go on, I’m releasing you early.”

“You know, technically, Jeff is my boss, not you.”

“I’m releasing you early!” Jeff yelled from across the room, where he had disappeared without you noticing. Harry gave you a smug smile and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek quickly while no one was looking.

“See you after the show,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to meet your friends.”

Your heart fluttered as you walked away and you wondered how you would be able to keep this a secret from your friends.

***

When your friends texted you that they had arrived, you screamed and raced down to the hotel lobby to greet them. After excitedly catching up a bit, you led them upstairs to the suite you had upgraded to for the night.

“Home sweet home,” you said as you opened the door.

“So this is what life on the road is like,” Your friend Rachel said, nodding her approval.

“Not usually,” you replied with a laugh. “I upgraded because you guys are here tonight and my family is coming tomorrow. But the crew usually stays in standard rooms; honestly, we all end up just coming back and passing out anyway so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I call the big bedroom!” Your friend Kelsey yelled, racing down the hallways to the bedroom dragging her suitcase behind her.

“Hey, no fair!” Adrienne called, chasing after her. Jenny, Adrienne’s girlfriend, just rolled her eyes and grabbed the bag Adrienne had left, following after her girlfriend at a much slower pace.

“Children, all of you,” Rachel sighed, shaking her head. Haley grinned and darted off behind the others, yelling “MINE!” at the top of her lungs. You and Rachel followed the others inside to blast One Direction and get ready for the show.

***

A few hours later, after room-service appetizers and more than a few pre-game drinks, you all piled into the black SUV buzzing with excitement. The girls were thrilled to get to enter in the back door, and insisted on taking loads of selfies with their VIP passes.

“So do we get to go backstage?” Kelsey asked excitedly as you headed inside.

“Honestly, it’s just boring work stuff back there,” you said, shrugging. “The real action is in the pit! Besides, someone will definitely see me and give me a job to do.”

“Boring work stuff for you, maybe,” Jenny said, pouting. “I’m a fucking dental assistant, boring work stuff for me is sharp tools and teeth.” Everyone laughed at that.

“I promise, I have something even better lined up for us after the show. Harry has personally invited you all to the after party.” You are sure their screams could be heard miles away, and you grinned, looping your arms with Haley and Rachel. “Come on, let’s go take some pictures!”

After many Instagram photos were taken, you led them up to the VIP booth to watch Jenny Lewis. No one else from the crew had arrived yet, as they were all busy preparing for Harry’s set. The drinks were flowing, courtesy of Harry who had told the staff to get you anything you needed. He had even left a note with one of them, scrawled on a napkin. You read it quickly then shoved it into the pocket of your pink leather miniskirt before anyone noticed. Thankfully, they were too distracted by the free drinks.

‘Enjoy the show and see you later, xx H’

When Jenny’s set was over, you herded the girls back downstairs to the pit. Kelsey insisted on bringing an extra ‘backup drink’ down with her, even though you told her that you could come back later for more.

“But I don’t wanna miss the show,” she said, pouting. You shook your head and decided, what the hell, grabbing another vodka soda for your own backup drink.

You batted your eyes at one of the security guards just outside the doors to the pit, asking him to escort you to the front.

“Thanks Jamie, you’re the best!” You said, kissing him on the cheek when he agreed. He led you and the girls to front and center in the Watermelon Pit, rolling his eyes at your drunkenness.

When Harry came out, the screams were deafening.

“He is even hotter up close,” Haley gushed as he started to sing the first lines of Golden. After the song was finished, he greeted the crowd, prompting an excited reaction. As the band started to play Carolina, Harry’s eyes were scanning the crowd and locked on yours. He broke out into a huge grin and gave you a little wave before turning to go to the other side of the stage.

“Did he just-” Adrienne asked, looking back and forth from him to you in surprise. “Wait, he actually knows who you are? I thought you were just, like, an assistant to an assistant!” Kelsey, Haley, and Rachel were too into their dancing to notice what had happened, but Jenny gave you a supportive smile, pulling her girlfriend to her side and whispering something to her.

You all got lost in the music, Adrienne glancing over at you every time Harry even so much as looked in your general direction. You shrugged, trying to play it cool.

The first few notes of What Makes You Beautiful started playing, and the crowd went wild.

“You’re insecure, don’t know what for,” Harry sang with a smirk on his face, looking directly at you. “Wait, wait, hold on,” he said, holding up a hand to stop the band. The fans booed him jokingly. “I know, I know. But a little birdy told me that the song I’m going to sing instead means a lot to some girls in the audience tonight. So this one’s for you, you know who you are.” The vibe in the room was excited yet confused, and you blushed as Harry made eye contact and winked at you as One Thing started playing.

“Holy shit!” Kelsey yelled, turning to face you and grabbing your shoulders tightly. “Is he doing this for us?” You just shrugged, laughing nervously, and grabbed her hands to start the dance that the two of you had made up to this song in your dorm freshman year. The other girls joined in and the six of you screamed along at the top of your lungs as you did your choreographed dance in the middle of the crowd.

***

After the show, all of you were pumped up with adrenaline and in a great mood, talking and laughing as you joined the crowd spilling out of the United Center and into the street. You led the girls around the back and into the waiting car that would take you back to the hotel.

While you waited for Harry and the rest of the crew to wrap things up at the arena, you and the girls touched up your makeup and had a few more drinks. After about an hour, your phone lit up with a Snapchat notification from ‘Mick Green,’ Harry’s secret account. With a smile, you opened your phone and clicked on the message, revealing Harry on the hotel’s rooftop holding up a beer, with the most adorable pouty face. ‘Where are you? :(“ the text on the message says.

“Who’s that from?” Rachel asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and see what you were looking at. You quickly click off of the snap and put your phone back in your pocket.

“Oh, uh, just a member of the crew, asking me where I am,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “The party’s started upstairs.” Rachel gave you a look that said she was unconvinced, but let it drop, and you all piled into the elevator to head up to the rooftop.

The entire crew was there, filling up the whole space. Off to one side was a dance floor with a DJ spinning old throwback hits, and on the other there were tables set up in front of the open bar. You anxiously scanned the room, looking for Harry, but you didn’t have to look that hard. He was off to the side, chatting with Mitch and Sarah, but as soon as he saw you, he made a beeline for you and your friends.

“Finally!” He said with a big grin. “Took you long enough.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t hide the small smile breaking out on your face. He turned to your friends, bowing slightly. “Hi, I’m Harry.”

“Yeah, uh, we know,” Haley said, making everyone laugh, Harry the loudest of all.

“Sorry, we’re all pretty drunk,” you told him, shrugging.

“Don’t be sorry, I love it! It looks like I have some catching up to do,” he said with a chuckle. You introduced all of the girls, and spent a few minutes chatting before Harry suggested you all take a picture together. He took a few group shots of just you girls, and seeing Harry Styles take pictures with your old beat up iPhone made the others laugh.

You motioned Sarah over and asked her to take some with Harry in them, which she was happy to do, and showed him how to do the Delta Nu hand sign, laughing when he struggled to twist his fingers in the right way.

“No, like this,” you said, reaching over to take his hands in your own to help him. When he finally figured it out, Sarah snapped a few shots before handing your phone back to you. You quickly scrolled through them to make sure they turned out okay, Harry and the girls all fighting to look over your shoulder.

“You should post that one,” Harry said casually when you had one of all of you holding up the hand sign and laughing up on the screen. You smiled at him and pulled up Instagram, sending it out into the world before you could overthink it too much, with the caption ‘Honorary member of Delta Nu.’

After a few more minutes of chatting, Harry took you all to the bar to do a shot, before he was beckoned away by Jeff.

“I hate to do this to you, but it looks like duty calls,” he said apologetically. “I promise I’ll find you later.” He dashed off with a wave, and you spent some time introducing the girls to your coworkers.

After a few more drinks and a lot of drunk dancing, you decided to go grab some water, and excused yourself from the group for a minute. While you were waiting for your glass at the bar, Harry slid in next to you.

“Your friends are fun,” he said, nudging your side with his elbow playfully.

“Yeah, they’re alright,” you replied jokingly.

“Wish I could’ve seen you back in your sorority days, though. Bet that was a sight to behold.” You blushed, grateful for the bartender for handing you your water so you could take a sip as a distraction.

“If you scroll back far enough on my Instagram, you’ll get a feel for it.” He smiled,

Once he got his drink, Harry walked you back to the dance floor, an arm casually slung around your shoulders.

“Sorry for keeping her from you, ladies,” he said as you approached your friends. They all assured him it was okay, and thanked him for returning you in one piece. He was being called over by a few other crew members, always the popular man, and apologized before jogging over to them.

“Oh my god,” Adrienne said a little too loudly as soon as he was out of earshot, eyes wide and mouth agape. “You’re fucking Harry Styles!”

“Shh! Don’t say that so loud,” you hissed, glancing around nervously. Thankfully, the music was too loud and everyone was too drunk to pay attention to you. You grabbed Adrienne’s arm and pulled her off the dance floor, away from the crowd, motioning for the other girls to follow.

“It’s only happened, like, twice. But you guys can’t say anything, I’m serious,” you said, your tone lowering so hopefully no one else hears you. “The fans could get the wrong idea, and I don’t want them to, like, come burn down my house or something. Plus, I don’t want Harry to think I’m some clingy weirdo.”

“But you are a clingy weirdo,” Haley said, laughing and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey!”

“But you’re our clingy weirdo, and we love you for it.” The entire group started laughing, and the subject was dropped in favor of reminiscing on your college years, back when you practically stalked your boyfriend for two weeks because you were convinced he was cheating on you but actually, he was just a drug dealer, which was honestly worse.

***

Later that night, when you were tucked into the hotel bed, you got a rapid-fire series of notifications on your phone — ‘harrystyles liked your post’ repeated at least a dozen times. You opened the app and saw that he had been liking all of the posts from your college years. That night, you fell asleep with your phone clutched to your chest and a smile on your face.

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios

[venfx]

magnus fic roundup

as tma comes to a close, i thought i'd post some of my favorite fics to come out of this fandom. most of these are classics, listed in no particular order.

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed​ | 3K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

↳ this is such a well-done exploration of jon’s character and his relationship with touch, and i’ve re-read it at least five times. sweet and sad and phenomenally well-written.

in the chillest land and on the strangest sea by imperfectcircle, singlecrow | 20K | Safehouse, S1-S4 | Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin | Complete

Jon remembers a statement he read years ago given by a Jesuit priest, who said that the shortest prayer he knew was, just, fuck it, as in fuck it; it's in God's hands. He takes Daisy's hand and trails on after her.

or; hope is a thing with feathers.

↳ hey, you wanna fuckin..... feel things? read this.

The Magnus Institute vs the 21st Century: a series of emails and IMs by shinyopals | 26K | Series | S3 | Pre-Jon/Martin | Complete

The Magnus Institute hires a Data Protection Officer. He sets about diligently booking in meetings, writing policy documents, and training all the staff in the importance of confidentiality. Now if only he could get hold of the Head Archivist, who seems to have vanished again...

(Jon is only trying to save the world, but apparently some people think he should still be doing his day job.)

↳ i’d be surprised to find people who haven’t read this series, but it’s the definition of “the magnus archives is a workplace comedy”. also, alasdair stuart has actually read some clips of this on Twitch, so that’s a fun bonus.

Bell, Book, and Candle by yellow_caballero | 102K | Series | S3 into S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete 

In accordance with the Ride or Die Pact of 2009, Jonathan Sims can call upon Georgie Barker at any time for aid with no strings attached. Despite their rocky history, their childhood friendship, and Jon’s barely recovered alcoholism, this pact is sacred and must be upheld.

Georgie Barker may regret this. She may regret it when she discovers that the world is full of monsters and eldritch gods and dickhead managers. She may regret it when a punk rocker who should be dead collapses on their doorstep, a teenager again who needs their help. She may regret it when her stupid ex-boyfriend starts selling his soul for knowledge and the ability to keep his new family safe.

But she probably won’t. Georgie isn’t scared of anything - not a Clown’s apocalypse, not the apocalypse that Jon is destined to begin, and not Jon’s own loss of humanity.

Maybe she should be.

↳ if you’re looking for an everyone-lives-no-one-dies-happy-ending fic that also happens to be massively chaotic, look no further. 

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps​ | 98K | AU, S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

↳ quintessential time travel AUs. plot-wise, i feel like these can be difficult to write, but op does a fantastic job of tying things together in a way that makes sense. plus, it’s just fun to read.

jon sims v the nhs by @thoughtsbubble​ | 12K | Series | S3 | Complete

Joan Bright has a new patient. He's carrying an old tape recorder and is covered head to toe in scars. Jonathan Sims looks dangerous, but Dr Bright has dealt with all sorts of atypical individuals. She has no reason to be nervous.

Right?

↳ if you’ve ever thought “hey, jon should probably go to therapy”, then 1) you’re absolutely right and 2) this is... probably what would’ve happened. prior knowledge of The Bright Sessions is not required. also, apparently, this fic is written by the showrunner of The Underwood Collection? wild.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles | 9K | S4 | Complete

It’s Basira who catches onto it.

The collective shift that seems to come over them when heading in or out of the Institute. Not just the oppressive sensation of being observed, their every move catalogued for the voyeuristic cravings of some unseen Eye(s). That feeling remained with them even when they left the Institute these days, but it was always stronger inside its walls. That wasn’t the change. Nor was it the point.

The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.

↳ i think being part of the avengers fandom circa 2012 has given me permanent found-family-trope brainrot, but you know what. jonathan sims can have a little happiness, as a treat. 

Road to Damascus by @titanfalling​ | 107K | Series | S4 | Jon & Tim | Complete

n. an important moment of insight, typically one that leads to a dramatic transformation of attitude or belief

Or, in which Tim becomes an avatar for the end of all things.

↳ tim dies and then he doesn’t. there is catharsis and world building. just....read it.

Come, Change Your Ring With Me by @backofthebookshelf​ | 29K | S3 | Peter/Jon, Jon/Martin, Peter/Elias | Complete

The Lukases demand the Archivist marry into the family, and the Institute relies on them too much to say no. Peter is smug. Elias is fuming. Martin is suffering. Jon thinks this might be tolerable if only Peter would hurry up and leave him alone already.

OR, the soap opera we call an Archives revolves around Peter Lukas this time.

↳ superb evil-bastards-in-love content, feat. martin pining, tim being obnoxious, and jon being... well, tired, mostly. i will literally never get tired of how op writes peter. 

creatures that i briefly move along by @dotsayers​ | 16K | Series | AU, Post-S4 | background Jon/Martin 

Mr Sims was so weird, was the thing. Miss Grant always said calling people weird was rude, and Anna sort of agreed, but she didn’t know what other word to use to describe Mr Sims.

He’d only been in with the class for a few days, really, and half of that he just sat at the back listening, but that didn’t stop her from making a swift judgement. 5BG had had student teachers before, back when they were 3ST, and they’d been uniformly normal.

Mr Sims was… actually, Anna had a better adjective. He was interesting.

↳ i just.... love teacher!jon fics. this series delivers. 

Once Bitten by @apatheticbutterflies | 1K | S4 | Jon & Daisy | Complete

Jon Sims has always been a jumpy kind of guy. Nervous. Twitchy. Daisy used to think it meant he was guilty. Turns out he was. Just not of what she’d thought.

Daisy learns how to peel an orange.

↳ daisy and jon’s relationship is an example of an instance where i’m happy to say “fuck what you wrote mr. jonny ‘chocolate torte of tragedy’ sims, i want them to be friends”.

pins and needles by mutterandmumble | 13K | S1-S4 | Complete

He’s got a reputation to uphold anyways; an uptight, rigid reputation that dictates the way that he interacts and functions and is such an integral part of him that he can’t let go of it anytime soon. He likes his safety nets. He likes his contingencies. He likes his privacy, and everything around this place right down to the walls seems to have ears, so he’ll stay tight-lipped up to and beyond the threat of death.

He’s good at that.

In which Jon takes up embroidery and bumbles through life the best that he can.

↳ out of all the introspective jon pieces i’ve read (and there are many), this one stands out. maybe it’s the symbolism or the characterisation, or maybe it’s the fact that i have an embroidery kit lurking in the back of my closet along with a hundred other half-pursued hyperfixations. whatever. this is excellent.

sleeping in by @ivelostmyspectacles | 5K | S2 | Jon/Tim | Complete

“Who are you trying to convince?”

Jon gives up, letting his head sag against Tim’s shoulder. “I don’t know.”

aka Elias gets tired of Jon and Tim's bickering, sends them away for a "team-building" weekend trip, and is sure to book them a room with only one bed

↳ this has everything you’d need from a “oh no there’s only one bed” fic. someone please get these men therapy.

if you try, sometimes (you get what you knead) by @ajcrawly​ | 3.5K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin, Tim/Sasha | Complete

It starts with an abundance of boeuf bourguignon and ends up as a team tradition.

Food and love in uncertain times.

↳ more found family fic, this time with a diverse og!archival staff and food as a metaphor for love. hurt in all the right ways. made me hungry in the process.

[highqueenofelfhame]

An: I’ll add tags later, i just wanted to get this posted because I’m like pretty happy with it, it’s alright. So i hope you guys enjoy! I’ll also attach links and stuff later, I’m posting this from my iPad and i just am too lazy for the tagging process. Me wants to sleep. This is part of the Disney au! Shoutout to @tangledraysofsunshine and @punkassbookjockey26 for the help on this one! This is mostly fluff (i know, how wild) but don’t worry i’m working on some angst for you soon. Fafs update soon too! I’ve already started on it and I’m going to keep working on it as the week goes. Thankfully it’s an easy chapter for me to write bc i have plenty of OG stuff to pull from. Okay, anyway! Enjoy!!

With every second that ticked by, it was getting harder and harder not to rummage through his belongings like she lived there. Even worse was that Rowan was sneaking glances at her with a smirk on his lips like he knew she wanted to. It made her scowl, a frown line appearing between her eyebrows as she glared into his back.

“I’m making you dinner, and you’re still finding a reason to be unhappy with me?” He asked her, putting down the spatula and turning to lean against his counter. The man looked criminally good in an ivory cable-knit sweater and dark jeans, an outfit combination that Aelin had never seen him in before. Thinking back on it, she was positive that when he wasn’t in a costume at work, she had only ever seen him in jeans and a t-shirt. There was also the single flannel he’d worn on Halloween, but all of that was simply incomparable to how he looked now.

“You said dinner would be ready ages ago.”

“I said it would be ready in half an hour when you got here, which was twenty minutes ago. I still have ten minutes before you get to hound me about lying.”

“Maybe if you’d prepared an appetizer…” she teased, hoping with every cell in her body that he knew she was kidding. When Rowan had said he wanted to cook her dinner, she’d been floored. The only meal that she could successfully make was breakfast, and the options were limited. Additionally, she couldn’t remember the last time a romantic interest had cooked for her at all. Probably Sam several years earlier, and it had been so bad they’d relented and settled on drive-thru burgers instead.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed at her, and she knew she’d missed the mark with her joke. The date had been going well so far; not much could have been ruined. He’d kissed her hello once, or four times, then told her to make herself at home. Rowan even had a beautiful arrangement of kingsflame at the table in the dining area. Their banter had ensued as it always did, casual teasing comments. Until she went too far. Obviously.

He turned his back, and Aelin tensed, moving across the kitchen to get to him. Just before she touched him, he turned back around, eyes widening almost comically when his elbow nearly hit her temple. Without her boots, her footsteps had been near-silent on his hardwood floors.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, fingers brushing her temple where his sweater had grazed her face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” With their dinner sizzling in the background, she was sure that he could hardly hear the soft whisper of her voice. That didn’t seem to matter because Rowan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, short and sweet and leaving her wanting more. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Rowan’s brows knit together, green eyes tracing over every feature of her face before settling to meet her gaze.

“Being… me? Teasing? I don’t know. This is a date, and you’re so nice to be making dinner, and I shouldn’t be--”

“Aelin,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t busting my balls for something. I don’t think we would be us.” At the mention of them as an item, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth to ward off the embarrassingly large grin that was threatening to take over her face.

“That doesn’t mean I can be rude,” she grumbled, earning another smile from the man in front of her.

“You aren’t.” Rowan turned away from her for a brief moment. When he faced her again he held half of a cookie in his hand. “You just get hangry.”

She stared at the small offering in his hand before accepting it with a smile. Not only was he making her dinner, but it seemed he had also baked her double chocolate chip cookies. It made her heart squeeze in an almost painful way, but she took the cookie and nibbled on the corner. Whatever recipe he had used was perfect. It only made the rumbling in her belly worse, but she was determined to finish it without chocolate smeared all over her mouth.

“I’m almost done with dinner. Go snoop. I know you’re dying to.” Aelin wrinkled her nose, and Rowan was quick to kiss the tip of it, despite her failed attempt to swerve. Not that she wanted him to miss, really. Aelin wanted to beg him to kiss her until she was physically sick and couldn’t stand to feel his mouth on her body ever again.

The apartment was simple. It had one bedroom and an open living and kitchen area. Rowan had a small table that could seat four between the two rooms. It was sparsely decorated but had a few personal touches here and there that provided a glimpse into Rowan’s life. She walked around the living room, noting the pile of books stacked neatly next to the TV contained some of her favorites. She hadn’t pegged Rowan as an avid reader, but she realized that despite working with the man for the past two years, there was still so much she didn’t know about him.

And she realized, more than anything, that she wanted to know everything.

Furthermore, she’d been right about the books stacked on the coffee table. They were travel books, some of them with tabs and post-it notes sticking out of the sides. With a sly glance to the kitchen, she perched on the edge of the couch and pulled the biggest of them with the most annotations toward her, flipping through the pages to see what all he had bookmarked.

One of the first pages was a map marking all the parks and their major attractions. It seemed Rowan had a key for himself, little stars, triangles and squares marking various locations.

“The stars are my favorite places I’ve been,” Rowan said, pulling her gaze from pages of mountains and canyons and over to his green eyes.

“Is this what you do when you aren’t working?” Aelin closed the books and restacked them neatly on the table. Rowan was carrying two plates of stir-fry over to the table. In a few steps she joined him, sliding into the seat beside his.

“When I can, yes.” She was so hungry that she merely nodded, taking a too-large bite of food and meaning at the taste. Rowan’s eyebrow quirked while he took a bite of his own, and to avoid speaking with a mouthful she gave him a thumbs up.

“So good,” she reiterated after she swallowed, clearing her throat.

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“It’s food. I like food. And you baked cookies,” Aelin reminded him, popping another bite in her mouth. The tickle she seemed to be developing in her throat worsened, forcing her to clear her throat again after she swallowed. Actually, the tickle was becoming an insatiable itch that she tried to chase away with water. She had no luck. “Is your um— is your throat itchy?”

“No…?” Aelin tugged on the collar of her shirt, nodding her head instead of responding. Rowan leaned over to brush his fingers along her cheek, worry settling in the wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Gods, my mouth is itchy,” she mumbled, mostly to herself, while she downed the rest of her water so quickly a drop slipped down the side of her chin.

“Aelin. What are you allergic to?”

“I’m not allergic to anything,” she insisted, despite the way her tongue felt undeniably too big for her mouth. Rowan had already left the table, though, disappearing through a door off the living room and coming back with a small white bottle. His phone was also now in his hand and the numbers his thumb was pressing looked a lot like 9-1-1 from her vantage point.

“Take these,” he said softly, holding two pills to her lips that she opened her mouth for and downed with Rowan’s full glass of water.

“That’s dramatic.” She nodded at his phone. “I can breathe fine. My mouth is just itchy. And my tongue is a little too big.” To prove a point, she stuck her tongue out. Rowan’s eyes were saucers and he was ready to hit the call button.

“Your tongue is twice the size it usually is!”

“Did you do this on purpose? Is this getting me back for the syrup?” Aelin was kidding. Half-kidding, maybe, but kidding all the same. When she spoke, drool dribbled down her chin that she wiped at with the collar of her shirt. The whimper that sounded in the back of her throat wasn’t voluntary. It was their first date and she managed to drool on herself in front of him. Aelin Galathynius was the epitome of cool.

“This is not getting you back for the syrup.” Rowan’s voice was sharp, if still soft around the edges while he watched her carefully. His thumb was still dancing over the call button, but Aelin refused to be carted out of his apartment on a stretcher. She took his phone, locked it, and held it hostage in her lap while he fussed and mumbled about how big her tongue was. “What are you allergic to?”

“I didn’t know I was allergic to anything,” she swore again, grabbing his water for another long drink.

It went on like this for several minutes: Rowan listing the ingredients for the stir-fry that she may not have had before, or maybe she’d not had it in such a long time she forgot she had a mild allergy to it. MSG, soy, celery, sesame, carrots, on and on. He ran through everything twice before Aelin asked him to please stop, she had no idea and listing them over and over wasn’t going to spark a memory or knowledge she didn’t have.

The signature frown he wore most of the time was all the more prominent the droopier her eyes got; the effects of Benadryl were hitting her harder than she cared to admit, but her throat wasn’t as itchy and her tongue was feeling closer to normal. Rowan held both of her hands and guided her to his bedroom. Aelin wanted to make a joke about how this wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but she was too sleepy to find the words.

Rowan undressed her, pulling her jeans off before guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. The duvet was softer, fluffier than she’d anticipated him to sleep on, and she wanted to burrow down into it as he replaced her shirt with one of his own. When he pulled back the blanket, she crawled under and didn’t settle until he laid down with her. His sweater was soft beneath her cheek and she felt like she was cuddling with him on a cloud. Gods, his bed was so comfortable she wanted to sleep in it forever.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date,” she mumbled, tilting her head back to look at him beneath heavy lashes and heavier lids.

“I’m sorry for accidentally almost killing you.” Despite the way his lips were turned down, there was amusement hidden in his words. Aelin smiled and tilted her head back enough for him to take the hint: she wanted to be kissed. A half smile spread across his lips and he kissed her gently, fingers brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

“This isn’t how I imagined our date ending,” she grumbled, ducking her face down into his sweater. Rowan chuckled and Aelin knew that it wasn’t what he had in mind, either. “I thought I would end up in your bed but not to sleep. I mean, maybe after you fucked me senseless, but I didn’t think we would be skipping that part altogether.”

“I didn’t think I would make something that had flare up an obscure allergy you didn’t know you had, either. So I guess we’re both surprised.” Aelin snorted, sitting up enough to tug on the side of his sweater. Rowan took the hint, sitting up to pull the sweater and his shirt over his head. While in the process of undressing, he stood and pulled his jeans off, too, tossing them over the back of a desk chair in the corner of the room. Aelin swallowed, eyes dipping over the expanse of golden skin he’d exposed.

Her eyes caught on a scar on his lower abdomen, zeroed-in on the trail of hair that disappeared into his briefs. It dawned on her then that she hadn’t seen him completely naked. At work, they saw each other in various stages of undress while changing costumes, but the only time they’d had sex had been a quickie in Lorcan’s bathroom. They’d both been mostly clothed for that. She was making it a goal to see him entirely naked in the next twenty-four hours, because he looked so good like this it was unfair.

“Maybe I’ll feel better when I wake up,” she said, breathlessly. Rowan grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek that she didn’t see often enough.

“I’m counting on it.”

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Today is the Day I Die

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Gender Neutral!Reader x Ellaria Sand

Word Count: 700

Rating: M

A/N: Hey all! This stupid little ficlet was sparked by THIS POST. My words were: Bedsharing + friends to lovers + star crossed. And since I am a sad bitch this week, and I miss my OG baby, this is what happened. Oberyn was my first love, and I will revisit him, this is my first attempt at writing anything ASOIAF or Oberyn related. It will most likely have nothing to do with the multichapter I plan on doing at some point. No beta, no rough draft. We live like Oberyn. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: ANGST. Character death, descriptions of death, the vaguest amount of smut, employer/employee relationship, polyamory

Suggested Song: “Love is Just a Way to Die” by I Am Strikes

“Today is not the day I die.”

But it was, and he did, and nothing ever fucking hurt as much as this. 

You can still see it in your mind, as you and Ellaria hold each other in the alarmingly quiet brothel, screaming and sobbing and rocking in each other's arms. It was like they all mourned with you.

Head smashed in like a Dornish melon. Ellaria’s screams. Your own screams, which didn’t even sound like sounds you were capable of making. That fucking blonde bitch, laughing.

He’s gone. He failed. 

He died.

And it hurts so fucking bad. Because you know him. You were friends with him. You loved him. More than you ever thought anyone could be loved.

And now Elia and her children would never get peace. Never get revenge.

You were always more than a servant to him. He never treated you as such. Yes, he’d tried to get you in his bed the moment you’d been hired by the Martell household, but you’d resisted. Instead, you served him, listened to him, understood him. Sometimes he would come to you for advice. Sometimes he just asked for your silent and comforting presence as you bustled about his chambers.

You met her, through him. You served her too. She was no lady, and she never treated you as anything other than her equal. She saw you as a friend, a compatriot. Never a rival.

And in time, you loved them, yet you’d never touched them. You’ve seen all of him, and her, but they respected your choice to not take it further. 

Until this journey. This fucking journey to the disgusting city of King’s Landing. Others were on the journey too, and lodgings were tight. 

You remember them asking you to come with them, their excitement at the prospect of finally, finally confronting the Lannisters. You were happy for them, and only too eager to join them and help them in whatever they would need. It never crossed your mind that your Oberyn, the Red Viper, would fail.

You remember entering the room in that first inn, how Oberyn had turned to you, insisting he would sleep on the floor to put you at ease. 

He was a Prince. A sun god, and he had offered to sleep on the floor so his servant and his bastard lover could take the bed.

You couldn’t help it. You’d kissed him then, with the fire and devotion of years of friendship and service. He’d whimpered sweetly in surprise, wrapping his arms around you, and you’d swayed like a cobra’s dance as you guided him to the bed.

You’d turned to Ellaria then, cupping her cheek and bringing her softly to your lips as he marked your neck with kisses and love bites. You wanted them both, and you had them both. In every inn, in every stop, all the way to King’s Landing.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” You’d said to them. “I was scared. I didn’t ever want you to send me away if I displeased you, Your Grace….My Lady…” 

“Never.” He’d whispered, in that beautiful accent that you knew could woo anyone.

“Of course not, my sweet one.” Ellaria cooed, as she pulled you against her breasts and nuzzled into the top of your hair.

So much time lost. So much more love you could have shared with him. And now...it is too late. Would that you could go back in time, that you could have stopped him. Let the little imp die, no matter how charming he was. He was not worth this. He was not worth this sheer, biting pain, coursing it’s way like venom through your entire body.

But you knew him as well as you knew the feeling of the crisp, dry Dornish air in your lungs, the hot sand between your toes. Oberyn Martell could never be dissuaded. He could never be cowed. He could never be caged. Not by anyone. It’s what you loved so much about him.

In time, you will stop crying. In time, you will move. Pack up your things. Return to Dorne. You and Ellaria will find comfort in each other. In his daughters. In Doran. The marks he left on your body will fade and disappear. But you will never forget.

And then, you will plan. In time, maybe revenge will still come. And if it does not, you pray you and Ellaria will die trying, that you will reunite with him, and the pain will stop, the anger will dissolve, and you will live the rest of your eternity back on the first night in that little inn.

[rouiyan]

𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, <3 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

synopsis: in which the worst christmas ever takes a turn for the better (and it rhymes!)

✧ idol!lee jeno x (fem.) reader ✧ best friends to lovers

✧ genres : fluff →  ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ →  FLUFF ✧ word count : 2.8k ✧ disclaimers : none

✧ author’s note — an impulsively written fic, done in a single one-hour-long sitting, and therefore isn't structured very well and has two or three potential plot holes. was the og christmas special but then 'this shirt of his' decided it wanted to go from 300 words to >10k so there's that. merry early christmas !!

"oh dear, that was not a look," jeno hopes the sarcasm in his voice masks his fear. he's a second too slow when he pulls the photo away from your sight, you've already seen the garish fit, blue jeans with an odd cut and the equally blue long-sleeve paired with thick rimmed glasses and matted hair. haechan steals the photo from behind jeno's back and shoves it your way, a mischievous plot already forming in mind. to his delight, jeno's face grows in horror as he watches you grin excitedly at the picture in your hands. "aww, you were so awkward back then. this one's one of my favorites," jeno flushes deeply at your words, there is not a thing in him that can help it. unearthing the photo albums from their trainee days wasn't his idea. rather, it was yours, also making it so he couldn't help it.

"i think we're done for today," he hurriedly shuts the album in front of him without realizing you were still holding onto the photo. you look as if you were to complain and he's also a second away from opening it up again just to dissipate the frown on your face. instead, you say something a little more horrifying, "then can i keep this one? i like it-"

"no!" he retraces as fast as he'd exclaimed, "i mean- wait, why?"

renjun fakes vomits in the background as you reach up to pat down some of jeno's wild hairs. he's just as sick of this as haechan and the others. rolling his eyes, he watches the scene unfold before him like some monotonous kdrama, the male lead always ends up with the female lead anyways. hand back at your side, you let a giggle erupt from your bearings. jeno's face heats up a little more. "why are you so embarrassed, jen? it's not like i didn't know you back then."

the boy in front of you drags a hand across his neck in attempt to cool down the feverish feeling. "i- i know, it's just-" it's just i've liked you since back then. "i don't know," i've always known that i liked you. "it's nothing, really." what you think of me means the world to me.

jeno blinks once and you're one step closer to him. he debates never blinking again if it means never missing your actions. your hand is warm against his as you slip the picture into his palm, closing his fingers around it. jeno takes note of how your voice is also warm, "then keep it, i don't want it if you're not comfortable with me having it."

the picture lays on his bedside table as he stirs in the dark. the winter is cold and his blankets, though thick and abundant, do nothing to warm his heart, something he knows from experience only your presence can alleviate. 

jeno is more than eager to toss his blankets aside and go back to gaming but he remembers the text you'd sent after you'd gotten back to your place. something like sleep early <3 though he really only remembers the '<3' part for sure. funny enough, that's the one thing that keeps him up all night.

jeno counts one minute this time, only one minute after he'd pressed the 'post' button, until he sees your username and accompanying profile picture pop up in his notifications. the nct instagram account is for all the members' use but he knows that you only follow it to like his posts exclusively. it's totally not as if he'd checked each and every post to see which ones you liked. jeno beams and punches a subtle fist into the air under the counter. unluckily for him, haechan notices. "what, she liked your post again? you know, she liked mine too."

maybe it's actually a lucky happenstance that haechan had noticed. "what?! no, she didn't." jeno dives back into the depths of his phone and scrolls through to find his friend's christmas selfie. haechan only chuckles beside him and upon hearing this, jeno looks up with a slight twitch of his lip, "so you're kidding." taking his empty cereal bowl in both hands, haechan's smile only grows snarkier as he slips off the stool. he claps a hand onto jeno's shoulder, "chin up lover boy, we all know she's only got eyes for you."

jeno clips down a smile as he returns to his own cereal, the flakes now soggy and the milk now gray. he downs it all in three gulps, sets the bowl back on the counter, spoon clattering, and reverts his eyes back onto his phone just in time to see an incoming text from you lighting the lockscreen. merry christmas! i think i might have time to come over later today, like late late. ask the others if that's fine with them. he doesn't ask, he already knows it's fine when he replies not a second afterwards yeah sure, merry christmas to you too, he pauses, taking a breather before sending the next, extremely risky, text, see you later <3.

slamming his phone face down on the counter and jolting upright, the stool almost toppling over, he grabs the bowl with such force that has jaemin in the living room popping his head in to check if he's okay. evidently, he's not. jeno scrubs at the dishes with acute fervor in hopes to mask the embarrassment and oncoming wave of doubt that's sure to overcome him if he doesn't preoccupy his mind with other things. jaemin is just about screaming over the sound of the fifty or so dishes that have been left unwashed for weeks on end. "jeno! jeno, what are you doing?!"

the clanking of tableware ceases. jeno reroutes his mind to focus on tapping his toes as fast as he can as he veers in the direction of jaemin's voice, eyes frantic. the kitchen is silent, save for the gush of water from the sink behind him, though his voice is unnecessarily loud and unnaturally high when he speaks, "i'm washing the dishes."

"yes, i can see, but like- why are-"

he's is cut off by the sound of a ping from jeno's phone on the counter. jaemin is reaching over to check the notification for him when jeno's eyes widen even further and he yanks off the pink rubber dishwashing gloves with a resounding snap and dives for his phone before jaemin can even lay a finger on it. bewildered, jaemin gives a simple, "oh," in realization as he draws back.

you're gonna love my gift, jeno. i just know you will <3

and the dishes stay unwashed. at least they got a good rinse.

late, late turns out to be even later than precedented, for you at least, though you're sure that most the boys are still awake at 2:12 in the morning. it isn't christmas anymore but you lack the attentiveness to care in the state that you are in right now, pressing the buzzer just outside their door rather aggressively and panting in equal fashion. you slump into yourself as your mind glosses over the past day and how horridly it had panned out to be. frustration curls and lashes within your actions and you want nothing more than to just drop their gifts off and leave. 

crouching with both arms still planted taut on the bike, your frustrations seems to take on a path of their own, emitting echoing sobs from your being. the tears slide fast onto the floor beneath with nothing to obstruct their merry way. there, they accommodate each other to form a puddle of sorts, one that you stare intently at as it only seems to grow in size with every hiccup of a sob you give.

startled by the opening of the door in front of you, it's as if you've forgotten why you're here in the first place but upon seeing the boy at the door, your best friend who, by the look of it has been up playing games with heavy bags under his eyes, you don't bother to collect yourself or even conceal your tears. 

"y/n, why are you-" he stops, he can't help the laugh that so naturally comes to him. it really is only natural when the sight before him is so dismally absurd. you have indeed come bearing gifts. one of your arms, or the elbow of it, has a giant bag looped around it, the contents of a dozen or so wrapped oblongs threatening to overflow. both hands situated soundly on the giant bike before you, your whole configuration making it slightly difficult to fit comfortably in the narrow hallway. staring up at him, first confoundingly, you mull over the situation at hand yourself and, in the midst of the tears, you start to laugh as well.

you stand, stretching out the joints in your knees as you shove the bag into his arms and then almost run the bike into his balls, shaking your head in amusement and carelessness as he gives a yelp and a jump of surprise. he takes the bag in his arms and moves to let you in, though his eyes never part from you. simply, there is much that he wants to ask but he doesn't until you are safely put upon his bed and he is safely knelt before you, hands in your lap and also clasped in your hold.

"wanna tell me?" jeno's voice is soft, and comes in waves that both surge and surf your emotions. a lopsided and unmeaning smile graces the left corner of your lips, "tell you what, exactly?"

"the bike, for starters," he leaves a pause for you to chuckle, then goes on, "the time, why you were crying in the hallway...should i go on?" you fiddle with his fingers, his own tracing across your knuckles. the smile your expression stretches a little wider and a little more forlorn. "the bike...you said the chain or something broke on yours-"

"i've could just went to go get it fixed, y/n."

"i know, i know but then there was that one day where you were going on about some bike that you wanted to try out and i kinda just committed it to memory and bought it."

"i- i'm- but that was-" he's having difficulty computing the necessary words to encompass his enthrallment, "that was like four months ago."

"yeah and i was going to go pick it up after work today except…" you lick your lips to suppress another laugh. what had you so troubled just a few minutes ago now seems like a distant memory, "except i got fired," jeno's mouth hangs open, "so i went home first to cry and then i got to the shop like three minutes before it closed and then got into an argument with an employee there and then went home to cry again and then fell asleep and then woke up and remembered i had to get it to you before the end of the day but it was already almost two in the morning so i just said, 'fuck it, imma just go and see what happens,' and, well, here i am." you let it all simmer before closing it up, "that pretty much sums it all up for you, huh."

jeno's lips are slow to crease upwards as he processes all the information. he takes his hands from yours, also slowly, and instead places them on either side of your head. you beam down at him, cheeks flaming and lifting into a mirroring, and this time genuine, smile. he gives your head a little shake back and forth, in disbelief and incredulity all at once, "all that on christmas day?"

the way he pampers you never fails to get your heart pumping and adrenaline running tens of thousands of miles per hour. a smile so wide, your teeth even make an appearance, "all that on christmas day."

"well," both his hands are now on both your knees. he looks up at you with pondering eyes and in his room, only lit by the standing lamp in the corner, simply the sight of him is enough to take your breath away. jeno's thumbs run up and down the beginnings of your shins when his lips part with realization and you follow his gaze to the nightstand where, under his phone and a few other discarded items, lies the picture you'd only been able to catch a glimpse of the other day, yesterday. he stares at it for a little before bringing it to your lap to stare at it a little more. then, he turns it over to you, "will it make you feel better if i give you this?"

taking it from him, jeno has no idea how your smile could get any wider, any prettier, but it does. both his hands are back on both your knees, kneading soft circles into the skin. he wishes you weren't wearing a skirt in such cold weather, though either way you look just as mesmerizing to him. the smallest of a chuckle topples past your lips, your pretty lips, and you look from the picture to him with your eyes, your loving eyes. "i mean," you take another glance at it, "how could it not? you were so cute back then."

"you think so?" is what comes out of his mouth but truthfully, jeno has no idea what he's doing when he gets up upon both knees, now just a little under eye level with you. he has no idea what specific thoughts are spurring him on and he has not the slightest inclination of where this sudden courage is coming from. when lee jeno brings your forehead to his own, with a hand to the back of your neck, he is numbed to the mind and sustained solely on the thrum of his gut. driven by intuition, he doesn't render the flaming of your cheeks odd, nor does he take into account the second-long glance you give to his lips, the same lips that brush the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the heights of your brow, before meeting your philtrums and then, ever-so-carefully, the pinks of your lips.

jeno is intoxicated by how you seem to move in tune with every string of his pent up desires. he doesn't give a second thought as to why, or even how, it happens; he just knows that it's because it's you, that if anyone else were to kiss him in the same way you were doing now, he'd be missing out on the very feeling that renders him speechless, dumbfounded, bewildered, awestruck, and lovestruck all at once. pulling back just a bit, your fingers graze over the line of his jaw as you mumble a soft, "merry christmas," into his lips. jeno paces himself to ensure he doesn't stumble over his words, "be mine?"

the second kiss answers the question he's been keeping to himself since he was fifteen.

you're awake when he falls asleep, a stupid smile still plastered on that face of his and you would've had enough mind to tease him about it later, were the same smile not on your own face. you're still awake about half an hour later when jeno stirs in his sleep, though instead of moving away from you, he only holds you tighter. however, you're asleep when he awakens a few hours later, a hand coming up to groggily rub at an eye as he reaches out for his phone only to realize that he doesn't need to check his messages. how could you have texted him when you're right there, in his arms?

he only checks his messages in the hour after you leave, and even then in his manager's car on the way to some filming site, jeno blushes, madly.

i forgot to say yes <3

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — ok i KNOW the fic kinda goes 📉📉 but i only really planned for the first two scenes and was like...now what — and just wrote whatever came to mind afterwards. i hope it's not too disappointing for my first off hiatus fic but whatever mans, i'm over it! anyways, i hope you still enjoyed some parts of it and i'll have you know, i'm very glad to be back. (WILL I STOP IT WITH THE BSF2L FICS? WILL I??), rouiyan.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with bugs

bugs has 40 stories at Gossamer. They mostly focus on Mulder and Scully, but there are also some goodies featuring Reyes and Doggett. I’ve recced some of my favorites of her fics here before, including The Link. She also co-ran WhyIncision, a fun, smart X-Files mailing list that dissected fics like a book club. Big thanks to bugs for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Not really. While I was still in high school, I started watching the then 20 year old OG Star Trek and became a Trekkie of a sort. Starlog magazine, James Blish novels and the other novelizations, and while I was working as a library page, I found fanfiction one day among the periodicals.  Who knows how fanfiction ended up as part of a library's materials, but there it was, this tattered mimeographed collection. The fic that had the most impact on me was one where Nurse Chapel wrestled a giant alien snake to save Spock's life.

So when I got into XF, one of the first things I did was look for fanfic, knowing somewhere out there, Scully was wrestling a big snake for Mulder.

That experience showed me the power of fandom, that even without the internet, how the second generation of Trekkies joined the original group to advocate for the franchise to be revived. I remember sitting in the theater for that first awful Star Trek movie, choked up with what we'd done.

Tragic backstory way to say, no I'm not surprised that a well-produced show like XF would beget future generations of fans, and that they'd be chewing their way through the fanfic archives still being maintained.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I'm so grateful to the fandom. Literally formed the life I have today through the confidence it gave me. Many of my friends to this day are 'pocket friends' from the various fandoms I've been in, and the longest friendships were formed in XF. I learned how to write, both technically and finding my voice. I learned how to think analytically, more than any college courses.

The two most important things I took away were, write for yourself first and always, and shit ain't that damn important. In the end, it's a TV show.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

YIKES.  I came in at the Fight the Future summer hiatus, so the waning days of ATXC, then we moved to mailing lists, right?  Yahoo Groups was in there somewhere. Finally message boards. Live Journal rose up at the end of the run which began to fragment the fandom even before the show ended, along with the migration off our individual websites to Archive of Our Own, fanfiction.net and such. We went from group discussion platforms to 'come look at my blog for my thoughts'. It was different and I didn't particularly like it, but in the end, when I came back to fandom for a new show....I had to get a Live Journal. That's the most interesting part of fandom, that a platform doesn't mold a fandom; we use the platform and when it's no longer useful to us, we abandon it en mass.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I've touched on that a bit, but to elaborate, I'm glad I started in the XF fandom. It had such high standards and I hope that I maintain those standards for myself to this day. These days, I don't usually have a beta reader, but that took a couple hundred posted fics to get to that point.

Having seen the same exact flamewars and divides and squabbles over and over, seen how the taste of 'fame' can drive someone to be rather unpleasant, has given me a much more 'whatever' attitude. It's sort of comforting when joining a new fandom to know what's going to happen next in its natural progression.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

There's a meme "I have a type," and XF definitely had that type, but it just took me a while to get there. I was away at college then working on the road when the show started, and wasn't home on Friday nights most of the year. My mother has always been a big sci-fi fan, so she actually was watching before me. I don't like scary things, and would leave the room if it was on when I'd visit her. I was home for Christmas when Christmas Carol/Emily aired and I remember standing tentatively just inside the room so I could flee if necessary, and watched Scully go through the wringer, and ranting, "What the hell is this? Why are they putting that poor woman through this!?" I also saw how the show was doing the big ship tease, and I was like, uh, I don't have time for this. Even by my 20's, I'd been done wrong by so many shows that I'd become bitter. But the first film trailers suggested they were actually going from UST to RST, so I figured I could give 2 hours of my time for that.  And yeah...but I was hooked, and WENT TO BLOCKBUSTER AND RENTED THE VHS TAPES TO CATCH UP....this interview is making me feel very old.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I've always been a shipper and have no shame in that, as I think forming and maintaining a relationship is the most conflict-ridden enterprise humans can attempt, and thus is the most challenging thing to write about. Like many fanfic writers, I'd 'told stories in my head' ever since I can remember about the characters from books, shows and movies. It was just a matter of then writing it down for the first time.

After I was sucked into the show and it was still the summer hiatus, I got on my first computer, dialed up that screeching modem, and went on Netscape to search for that fanfic I knew had to be out there from my Trek experience a decade ago. Like many people, after inhaling much of the delicious fics out there, I decided I can do that. I'm someone who's very methodical on my approach to something new, so I studied what worked/what didn't, the expected formatting, got a sense of the culture I was entering, acquired a critical beta reader, so when I actually submitted the first chapter to AXTC, I was calm and confident.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I watch from the sidelines, with a vague little smile on my lips.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Yes, I have. Battlestar Galactica had a lot of Philes, but it was still a big step away from the very organized fandom in X-Files. Plus, with so many characters, there could be lots of little groups focused on their favorites. Same in the Downton Abbey fandom. Just a different dynamic.

On the other end of the spectrum, one of my most popular fics is in the Silence of the Lambs fandom which I've never been involved with any other fans or their fandom, if it exists. It just sits out there on fanfiction.net and chugs along with the reads. My current fandom is The Doctor Blake Mysteries which is tiny but mighty--the saying is, we're six people and a shoelace. It's shown me that it's not the size, not the 'fame' possible, but the passion that makes a fandom.

Sadly, at least at this time, I don't think there will ever be an experience like The X-Files heyday. It was such a golden moment of the rise of internet and home computer use by the general public, a large generation of educated women having the time to participate in fandom, and there wasn't the amount of 'noise' that is distracting us all now. I'm so glad that you're doing this exercise to record our thoughts. We've already lost so many of the OG folks. My first beta, Janet Caires-Lesgold; Trixie, way too young; Shari, also too young; Brandon D Ray, leaving his family too soon; and many more.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 9, 2021)

[jinkicake]

Aizawa, Midoriya, Hawks With A Clingy S/O

Aizawa, badboy!Midoriya, Hawks with a s/o who likes to cling onto them.

Aizawa Shouta x Reader

Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Takami Keigo x Reader

Again, sorry Anon for not posting this sooner. I’ve been really busy the last few days. I hope this is okay!! I really like this prompt and wanted to try it out with these three fools. </33 Thank you for being my first bnha request!!!! ily!

WC- 1,687

~~~

Aizawa Shouta

The things I want to say about this man…. The things I want to do to this man….. I,,,,, he’ll make your stomach drop…. please.

Anyway, I feel like Aizawa would really appreciate a clingy s/o

Like having someone who pampers him in love and affection is something he needs

Aizawa deserves all the support he can get and will sometimes lean on you when he needs it 

Not too much of course, he has a stern appearance to uphold LOL but in private I think he is really soft with you

He loves to hold you when he’s sleeping, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest

He has you sit on his lap anytime, like if he is working on something or just sitting at the table with his phone…. You’re going to be in his lap

It might take Aizawa some time to open up to you at first, but I don’t think he will ever reject your advances……

Whenever you want to hug him or hold his hand, he will let you. He’d probably even let your braid his hair 

Someone like Aizawa who spends his entire life taking care of people and looking after them probably just wants someone to do the same for him,,,, he would love the way his kitten dotes on him~

“Shouta,” You call out quietly into the living room where your husband is still focused on his UA work. “it’s almost three am.” Aizawa doesn’t even glance at you, he continues to strain his dark eyes towards his computer. With a sigh you pad over towards him and sit right next to him on the couch. Immediately your arms loop around his waist and you toss your legs into his lap. Aizawa glances at you when he feels your touch and softly kisses your temple.

“Kitty, go back to sleep.” The familiar nickname makes your stomach flutter, even after all these years, yet you refuse to budge. You stubbornly shake your head.

“Only if you come with me.” You bargain and Aizawa nearly sighs at your perseverance.

“I have to finish putting in these grades before patrol tomorrow.” Aizawa rests his hand against your bare thigh and gently squeezes in an effort to lull you back to sleep.

“Just let me do it tomorrow while you’re out.” You compromise and Aizawa continues to caress your legs.

“I can’t make you do that, baby.” Now, he finally sighs.

“Yes, you can.” You push and relax against his chest, resting your face into his neck. “Please, Shouta, I’m so tired. I can’t sleep without you.” You glance at him and pout, knowing damn well he can never say no when your eyes stare at him pitifully like this. Deep down you know that if you tell him the reason you want him to go to sleep is that he needs sleep, it won’t work and he won’t come to bed. However, maybe if you use your special charms-

“No. Just let me finish this.” He tries to go back to his laptop but you slam it shut before glaring up at him with cloudy eyes.

“We are going to sleep now.” You order and your husband sighs before scooping you up in his arms and bringing you back to your shared bedroom. “Yay~ I love you Shouta!”

“I love you too, kitten.”

Midoriya Izuku

I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABT THIS, my head is full of thoughts when it comes to villain evil Midoriya….

“ If this man *Deku* came up to me he would get slapped, but if THIS MAN *villian!deku* came up to me I would take my pants off so quick “

That is literally, that’s it. That’s the headcannon

Whether we are speaking about just Deku or like villain bad boy Deku, I think either way he would still receive his s/o’s affection with open arms

But we talking about bad boy Deku so let’s steer away.... He’d tease you a little bit,, just to see you get flustered

I feel like this mf would make lewd jokes whenever you touch him, hug him, anything because he can and it is funny to watch as your insides melt…..

He’d take advantage of your clinginess and use it as a way to make you all rattled

Midoriya would drag his fingers all along your sides or your thighs just to see you scold him,,, he thinks it is hot whenever you yell at him

I feel like bad boy Deku would be soooo much more confident than our regular Midoriya is….. he still has the softness of the og but he has the asshole-y hotness of you know,,,,,,

You know who…..

“Izuku,” You groan and try to get out of your boyfriend’s comfortable arms. It is late in the afternoon and you have been laying in bed doing absolutely nothing, except napping, you seriously have to get up and do work now. “I need to do my homework.” You push at his head again but his strong arms only keep you pinned to his chest.

“Do it later.” He snaps in annoyance, though his voice is still relatively quiet. Clearly, someone is mad that you woke them up.

“This assignment is going to take me forever, Izuku please.��� You complain and your boyfriend simply buries his face into your neck, his lips pressed into your collarbone.

“I love the way it sounds when you beg.” He teases and you squeak in embarrassment, the smirk on his face makes your heart do flips.

“You’re so,” You pause and bite your lip in thought while running your hands through Midoriya’s thick hair. “infuriating.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you want to have sex.” He responds cooly and you hide your face in embarrassment.

“I have to work on my college applications, they aren’t going to do themselves!” Midoriya yawns and closes his eyes, clearly not threatened by your fists or heated demeanor. “You make it so hard to get out of bed.” You whine and lay back down, tucking yourself to fit snug against your boyfriend.

“I know and in more ways than one, I hope.” He chuckles against your neck and you have to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“I don’t even want to fuel your ego even more so I’ll just say nothing.” You close your eyes and your boyfriend brings his strong hands to your hips. “I-Izuku!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just force the words out of you,” Midoriya tells you arrogantly and you don’t even think about opening your eyes again, too focused on each of his touches.

Takami Keigo

If someone doesn’t get this man a hug RIGHT NOW,, my sweet sweet poor baby NEEDS AFFECTION and needs it now!!!

Shit with Hawks,,,, I’m just tryna be his kid ya know….

He’ll tease you A LOT, please this cocky ass Kuroo blueprint bitch would be soooo flirty with you

“Did you miss me that much, dove?” He’d smirk when you tackle him in a hug after he comes back from a day of work

“I know you can’t control yourself that much around me, kid, but you can at least try”

Please him and Atsumu I want to rock their shits, and by rock his shit I mean ride his face

I think it would take Hawks a very long time to actually open up with you, much like Aizawa he wouldn’t deny your affections but that doesn’t mean he is ready to portray the same intense emotions back….

Given his circumstances I think Hawks would be very hesitant to have an s/o he can trust, though I also think he thrives off the attention you give him, so clearly he must like you in some way

He can be just as clingy back, you cannot tell me this man wouldn’t cling to you like a baby, he’d follow you into every room and even try to go into the bathroom with you  

Please…. Please, someone, give my sweet angel the love he deserves

“I’m back!” Hawks announced the moment he steps back into his apartment, he places the container of chicken wings on the counter and glances around at the empty living room. For a moment he finds himself wondering if you’re out at uni until he hears you running out the bedroom.

“Keigo!” You exclaim and nearly tackle your boyfriend as you run into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I missed you!!!”

“How much, dove?” He teases and you have to refrain from rolling your eyes. Instead, you bury your face into his jacket and sigh in content in all the warmth he has to offer.

“So, so much!” At that you begin to pepper kisses all over his cheeks and Hawks laughs loudly while grabbing your cheeks between his hands. He pushes your lips together to pucker your lips out and smirks at the sight of your face.

“Yeah?” He lowers his lips to ghost over yours and you try to reach his lips but your boyfriend simply won’t let you. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?” He croons and your eyes light up, Hawks can practically see your obedient little tail wagging. “After we eat!” 

Your boyfriend pulls away and stalks into the kitchen, leaving you to grumble about what a tease he is. You won't fall for his tricks any longer!

“You got the pickled radish right?” You call after him and Hawks turns around slowly to look at you, his face pinched together as he feigns a thought.

“I don’t know… Did I?” He taunts and before you can threaten him, you notice the delicacy right in front of you being floated up by a single red wing. “What do you say, baby?”

“Thank you.” You mumble and Hawks gasps at your manners.

“Such a good girl,” He continues to tease before sliding up next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into his chest. He leans down to kiss the top of your head and you watch him carefully, especially with the way his hands are descending down your sides. “maybe I’ll have dessert early tonight.”

~ Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy

[noona-clock]

What’s Your Sign?: Sagittarius

Genre: Celebrity!AU

Pairing: Choi Minho x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,534

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

Ever since you’d seen him in his first ever role on a television series about five years ago, you’d fallen in love with Minho.

Choi Minho, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Through a screen, at least. You hadn’t yet been lucky enough to see him in person.

And since you’d fallen in love with him after watching his very first episode of that television series, you’d done nothing but support him for the last several years.

You saw every one of his movies the day it released in theatres. You watched every single episode of every single television show he appeared in -- even if he was just a guest star.

His popularity from his first role had soared pretty quickly, which was really a win/win scenario. Minho, who presumably had been a struggling actor previously, was now flush with offers from directors. And you, an immediate superfan, got to spend a lot of virtual time with your new favorite actor -- because, not only did he act in a very large handful of projects every year, he was also interviewed on talk shows, featured in magazines, walking the red carpet of premieres and award shows. He didn’t have a social media presence for some extremely odd reason, but you still felt like you knew him.

From everything you’d seen and read about him, Minho was outgoing, friendly, and charismatic. He was confident, straight-forward, and optimistic. He basically always had some version of a smile on his lips, and based on many posts in the Choi Minho subreddit, he never turned down an opportunity to meet a fan out in public.

He... was basically perfect.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about one day meeting him, falling in love, getting married, and having about ten children together in the most beautiful house in the universe.

But, to be fair, your daydream wasn’t entirely impossible!

You were a bit of a celebrity, yourself!

Kind of.

On the Internet.

You had started a YouTube Channel six years ago, and at first, you hadn’t really had a clear vision for your videos. An absolutely rookie mistake, of course, but there’s nothing you could do about it now.

You’d started off with makeup tutorials because that had been the hottest YouTube trend at the time. But... you quickly discovered you weren’t as good at makeup as one should be to post a tutorial online in good conscience. You also weren’t quite good enough at doing your nails, cooking, or sewing to do videos about those.

For at least a few months, you’d been stumped. You knew you wanted your own YouTube channel -- you had a pretty fitting personality for it -- you just didn’t have any one marketable skill.

Until, one day, you stumbled upon a video of a guy watching a K-Pop music video for the first time and reacting to it. That was literally it. The whole video had been just him watching and talking about it.

And you were very good at that. You loved watching things on a screen -- YouTube videos, television shows, movies, you name it! And you always had thoughts running through your head while you watched something. In fact, you frequently wished one of your friends had exactly the same taste in music, shows, and movies as you so you could voice those thoughts aloud to someone who actually wanted to listen.

So, how had you never thought of doing that on your YouTube channel?! There was obviously a market for it -- the guy you’d watched had a few hundred thousand subscribers, and since it was something you genuinely enjoyed doing, you weren’t afraid of running out of content inspiration or motivation any time soon.

It was literally the perfect idea.

The next day, you had set up your camera, pulled up the first episode of your favorite television show of all time, and got to work. When you posted the video a few hours later (Re-watching my FAVORITE show of all time), something about it just felt right. Like the stars had aligned. No matter if you got five views or five thousand, you knew you were on the right path -- when it came to YouTube, at least.

Every day after that, you chose something else to watch -- a nostalgic movie, a viral YouTube video, the really cheesy musical episode of a television show. You tried to pick things from all along the spectrum, and you also tried to wait a few days in-between continuing on with your re-watch of your favorite show, simply for variety’s sake.

Little by little, your channel began to grow. After work, you would film, edit, and post -- every single day. On the weekends, you would film two different videos in case you ever needed to take a day off. Or in case you just felt like posting two videos!

Your first sponsorship offer email had come about six months after you’d posted your first video, and your eyes had nearly fell out of your head when you’d seen how much they’d offered you. (Looking back, your first paying YouTube gig really hadn’t been that much money -- compared to what you could make now, at least -- but it had still been incredibly thrilling.) And, really, that had been the catalyst of your YouTube career and popularity. It seemed just the one sponsorship had been all you’d needed to catch the attention of other brands who wanted to work with you, and when you got to the point where you could actually afford to quit your job and turn down sponsorship offers you weren’t wild about? That’s when you knew you’d made it.

Okay, but really, you knew you’d made it when one of your videos hit one million views for the first time (a video of you watching a particularly cringe-worthy teen movie from about ten years ago).

And now, six years later, you had almost four million subscribers, and your most viewed video had almost twenty million views. Sometimes, you still couldn’t believe it!

The highlight of your time on YouTube so far -- at least, in your eyes -- had been when you’d seen Choi Minho for the first time about a year after starting your channel. You’d still had less then one-hundred thousand subscribers back then, so if anyone ever left on a comment on a video mentioning how long you’d been a Minho fangirl or remembering when you first discovered him, you knew they were an OG subscriber. But ever since that video, you did absolutely nothing to hide your affinity for him, both as an actor and as a person. You watched and reacted to every single one of his movies and every single television show episode -- you even sometimes reacted to interviews or videos other fans had made about him.

Even when your channel hit some pretty big milestones -- five-hundred thousand subscribers, one million, two million, three million subscribers -- you never played it cool when it came to Choi Minho. You switched up your content and your editing style here and there, but one constant on your YouTube channel was the fact you let your inner fangirl shine for all the world to see.

In fact, just last month, the trailer for his new movie dropped, and you were able to upload your reaction to it within two hours. Since then, you’d read and watched every interview you could find, favorited every tweet about the upcoming film, and liked every post on the #ChoiMinho hashtag on Instagram. Since he had no social media, you had to be satisfied with other people’s content rather than his own.

You were scrolling through his hashtag on Instagram right now, actually, as you procrastinated getting out of bed to go set up for another day of filming.

Now that you had almost four million subscribers and were approached by more than several companies for sponsorships every single day, you were able to focus on your channel full-time. You definitely got cabin fever from time to time, but it was worlds better than filming after work and on weekends. Now, you could actually take a day off whenever you wanted! It was glorious!

But you still procrastinated working. You were still human, after all.

After you caught up on his hashtag and liked just about every picture you could, you navigated to your inbox to look through your DMs. Over the years, it had gotten pretty easy to skip past the spam and sugar daddy requests (which were plentiful, unfortunately), so you no longer dreaded checking the unread messages. You could usually tell which ones to delete straight away from the profile picture and first few words alone.

To be quite honest, you really only opened ones where you either could tell someone was genuinely reaching out to say hi or thank you for posting your videos or... messages with Minho’s name visible in the preview. Shameless, but oh well!

After deleting a few messages at the top which were clearly spam, the next one you came to was actually one of those messages -- you saw ‘Minho’ in the preview. It was the very first word, even! And in all caps.

You pressed on it as quickly as you could.

And when your eyes took in the rest of the message... your heart stopped.

MINHO WATCHED ONE OF YOUR VIDEOS!

...This had to be a prank, right?

But right after the message in all capital letters was a link to a YouTube video, and the preview for the video was right below the message.

It was one of those videos put out by a big fashion magazine where celebrities watch videos about them and react to it. Usually, musicians and singers would react to covers of their songs by fans, but every once in a while, actors would read tweets or watch fanmade videos about them.

And when you clicked on the link this person had sent, the video opened in your YouTube app to show the title “Choi Minho Watches Fan Videos on YouTube,” and your eyes widened.

If what the Instagram message said was true... Minho had watched not only a fan video... but your fan video. And since his movie was premiering in just a couple of days, he had most likely watched your reaction to the trailer.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Since the video had started automatically after clicking the link, you took a deep breath and concentrated all of your focus on your phone screen. You were not going to miss the part where he watched your video.

But, of course, after not even thirty seconds, you found you had already gotten distracted by how handsome he looked.

You quickly shook your head a bit, widening your eyes briefly before narrowing them to focus on your screen again. “Come on, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself. “You can watch it again right after this to admire him.”

It was only a fifteen-minute video, so it’s not like you had to wait forever to get to the part where he watched you!

Still, though, as the minutes ticked by, you felt your heart begin to race in anticipation.

What would he say about you? Would he find your obsession with him creepy? I mean, it had to be a little creepy watching someone squeal and profess their love for you -- someone you’d never met!

But, then... when you got really mushy comments... most of the time, it didn’t feel creepy. It just felt sweet, and you were incredibly grateful that a lot of your subscribers and viewers were so supportive.

Ugh! You were getting off track again!

You shook your head once more and set your gaze back onto your phone screen.

Finally, when the clip of Minho watching a fanmade music video transitioned into the clip of him watching your video, your breath caught in your throat.

Were you going to survive this?

Outcome is unclear.

“Oh, yeah, I know her,” Minho said as your trailer reaction video began to play in the corner. “She’s the reaction girl, right?”

Your jaw dropped.

................Excuse me?!

Minho knew you?!

As you watched Minho watching you with the most adorable soft grin on his lips, your hand slowly crept up to cover your mouth in shock.

And, then, when you in the video paused the trailer to bring up another one of his movies that this trailer had reminded you of, his grin widened and he looked very pleased. “She knows her stuff, huh?”

You heard someone behind the camera murmuring something, and subtitles appeared on the screen. “She’s a known superfan, actually.”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he leaned toward the camera. “She’s what?”

“A superfan,” the person repeated, a little bit louder. “She’s known to her viewers for watching all of your movies and shows. There are always comments about you on all of her videos.”

Minho’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Really? All of them? Comments about me?” He leaned back and nodded slowly after, apparently, receiving a positive answer. “I had no idea. I’ve just seen her videos about, like, the cheesy teen movies we watched as kids.”

You truly almost dropped your phone.

So... he knew who you were, but he hadn’t known that you fangirled over him on a regular basis?

First of all, how was that possible?

Second of all, did it really matter?! He knew who you were!

He knew who you were!

You didn’t expect that he regularly watched your videos, but still.

HE KNEW WHO YOU WERE!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you watched him finish up watching your reaction video. The look on his face was one of delight, and even though you knew he was a good actor, it sure didn’t seem like he was simply pretending not to be creeped out.

“She’s so fun,” he smiled as your video ended, his gaze shifting back to the person he had spoken with earlier. “She has more? Like, for my movies?”

The person mumbled something back, and this time, there were no subtitles on the bottom of the video. But Minho’s eyebrows shot up immediately.

“All of my movies?” he asked. And then he let out a joyous chuckle and added, “No way.”

He quickly turned to the computer and clicked on your channel name.

But the video transitioned into another clip of someone else’s video, so you didn’t get to see if he actually watched any other ones.

Even if he hadn’t, you were still overjoyed -- to say the least -- that he had watched just one!

He knew who you were! He had actually known who you were before this which was probably the most surprising thing you’d ever heard in your entire life. (Besides the fact that Minho was currently single. That was definitely more surprising than anything.)

After sitting in your bed for a few minutes, staring blankly at your screen as the video finished up, your gaze unfocused and blurry, you finally came to when you realized the video had ended.

And then you proceeded to freak out.

You squealed and shrieked and kicked your legs and rolled around and scrambled to your feet to jump up and down on your bed with glee.

Was this the best day of your life?

Quite possibly!

Once you’d calmed down just a tad, you plopped back into a sitting position, crossing your legs into a pretzel as you navigated back to Instagram.

You sent a reply to the person who’d sent you the video (”OH MY GOD THANK YOU HE KNOWS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) and then refreshed your inbox.

As expected, a whole new slew of messages came through and literally every single one seemed to be about the video.

Your lips split into a huge grin, and just before you clicked on a random one to read and reply to it... you noticed that one message had a blue check by the sender.

Pausing, you shifted your gaze to that message.

And your heart jumped up into your throat when you recognized the name of the account.

Obviously, it wasn’t Minho himself because he didn’t have one.

But it was the next best thing.

His management company.

You followed them, of course, and liked every single picture about him or with him. Of course!

But you had never gathered up the courage to message them. You’d had no reason to! What would you have said?

And now they were messaging you.

The several days following the video of Minho watching your video had been... a blur. To say the least.

You still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

I mean, you knew you were here because Minho’s management company had direct messaged you on Instagram inviting you to the premiere of his movie and you had accepted without one millisecond of hesitation and then you’d gotten on a plane a couple of days later and then checked into a super nice hotel and had a stylist and makeup artist sent to your room and after many hours you now looked better than you ever had in your entire life.

That’s how you got here.

But you still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

A rather large stroke of luck?

Good karma?

Hard work to grow your YouTube channel into something that would make you more easily recognizable by actual celebrities and their management companies?

Or a combination of the three?

Either way, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, and you knew you would never be able to forget this experience -- even if you, for some odd reason, wanted to.

I mean, you were currently in a really nice car, and the driver (yes, you had a driver!) was taking you to the red carpet.

The red carpet!

An actual movie premiere! With an actual red carpet!

And the movie was Minho’s movie.

You were at the premiere of Minho’s movie.

Oh my god, what if you saw him?!

As the car rolled to a stop in front of a crowded theatre, your heart and stomach dropped down to your very expensive and gorgeous shoes.

You’d gone to somewhat fancy events before -- it came with the job of being a YouTuber -- but never anything like this. Never an actual movie premiere. Never the chance of seeing your favorite actor in the history of time. And, obviously, never walking a red carpet.

Your door magically opened just as the car stopped moving, and a hand popped out of nowhere to assist you in exiting the vehicle. As gracefully as you could, you slipped your fingers into the mysterious palm, allowing it to gently pull you up and out of your seat and onto the sidewalk.

Almost immediately, camera clicks, light bulb flashes, and inquiring voices filled the air.

Cameras and lights in your face, you were used to. It was your everyday life, in fact!

But... all these people? Looking at you? Watching you? Taking pictures of you?

I mean, yeah, a few million people watched your videos. But it was absolutely not the same as a hundred or so reporters and photographers standing right in front of you.

Thankfully, some short but very powerful woman guided you onto the red carpet, muttering to you that all you had to do was stand in front of the backdrop, pose and smile for the cameras, and then move on to the next mark. Some reporters from news and entertainment channels would be waiting along the way to interview you (which didn’t scare you quite so much as you’d been interviewed a few times before), and all in all, it would take about an hour.

But it took you way less than an hour to discover that walking a red carpet is not as glamorous as it looks on television.

Walking like your shoes were covered in almost-frozen molasses so every photo taken was a good one. Switching back and forth between facial expressions so every photo taken wasn’t the same one. And do you know how many good places there are to put your hands when posing for a picture? Exactly two. One was on your hip and the other at your side. That was it. Definitely not clasped in front of or behind you, and definitely not tucking your hair behind your ear.

And just when you were sort of getting used to the constant posing for pictures, another short but powerful woman gently grabbed your arms and led you to a reporter from the most-watched entertainment news channel in the country.

“Hello, hello!” the perky reporter chirped as you approached her. “Come on over here!”

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly as you made your way to the small mark on the ground next to her, holding up your skirt with one hand so you wouldn’t trip.

“Y/N! Good evening, good evening, how are you doing?” she asked before sticking the microphone in your face.

You had to quickly get over the shock of her knowing your name since you didn’t want to look like a fool on live television, so you forced a grin on your lips and answered, “I’m pretty overwhelmed, actually!” you chuckled.

“Is this your first time at a red carpet?”

“It is, yes,” you confirmed with a slight nod. “And I’m so used to being alone in my house, talking to myself in front of a camera, so this is all new territory for me.”

The reporter laughed with delight before asking which designer you were wearing. You answered her with ease since your stylist had drilled it into your brain before you’d left the hotel.

Then, after she asked you to tell the folks at home what you’re known for, she said, “It’s a pretty fun story of how you got here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it is,” you answered, your lips pulling into a shy but excited grin. “I woke up one morning to a message on Instagram, and someone had sent me --”

The reporter interrupted you then, and you noticed her gaze was directed over your shoulder. You turned to look, and --

Well, the next few moments happened so quickly, you really had no idea how you reacted.

“Y/N!” Minho called out, smiling widely and waving before reaching out and sliding his hands over your shoulders. He stood next to you, squeezing you once before letting his arms drop down to his side. “I’m so sorry for interrupting --”

“No, we were just talking about why she’s here at your premiere!”

Minho’s smile brightened even more, and he continued on with the story you’d been telling.

Meanwhile, you were standing there. Mute. Staring at him.

Because oh my god.

How was it actually possible that Minho was more handsome in real life?

But also, how was it actually possible that Minho was standing next to you in real life?

But also also, how was it actually possible that Minho was real?

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

You came to when you heard him say, “Yes, this is our first time meeting,” before turning to you and holding out his hand for a handshake. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You took his hand, shaking it weakly, and said the first thing that came to your mind: “Oh my god, hi.”

The reporter giggled, but Minho, instead of acting embarrassed for you, simply let go of your hand and moved to pull you into a hug.

Holy cannoli, Minho was hugging you.

Choi Minho. Was hugging. You.

Hugging!

You!

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” he repeated with a grin after pulling away, though he was still incredibly close to you and gazing at you with those sparkling, dreamy eyes of his.

“You, too,” you managed to reply shakily.

The reporter then went on to interview Minho, asking him who had designed his suit, what his character in this new movie was like, and if he was working on any new projects.

“I’m in the early stages of something, yes,” he answered. “I don’t think I can say too much more, but in the meantime, I think I’d really like to film some videos with Y/N, branch out onto social media.”

Your heart stopped, and you knew your facial expression was doing nothing to hide your surprise.

Minho then turned to you with an adorably guilty look on his face. “I mean, if it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yes, absolutely!” you burst out immediately, and the reporter giggled once again.

“Well, there you have it, guys,” she said after turning to face the camera. “You heard it here first -- a brand new collaboration in the works, so keep an eye out.”

She turned to you then and asked you to remind the viewers of the name of your YouTube channel. You leaned into the microphone and silently praised the lord you were able to remember it.

“Thanks so much, you two,” the reporter said with a very peppy grin. “Have a wonderful evening!”

“You, as well,” Minho answered before putting a hand in-between your shoulder blades and guiding you back to the red carpet.

Wait, he was guiding you back to the red carpet? He wasn’t... leaving?

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured in your ear, his breath causing the most delicious tingle down your spine. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to meet you --”

“No,” you shook your head slightly. “It’s -- it’s totally fine. It wasn’t rude at all. I’m -- I just -- I’m a little overwhelmed. In a good way!”

“Totally understand. I remember my first movie premiere like it was yesterday, I know exactly how you’re feeling.”

You simply let out a nervous chuckle, but then Minho did something to make you even more nervous (which you hadn’t even been sure was possible).

He bent his arm and held out the crook of his elbow toward you.

“Shall we?”

Okay, you were now convinced this was a dream. This was all a wonderful, perfect, heavenly dream.

There was just no way that any of this could happen in real life! Being invited to Minho’s movie premiere was one thing, but him interrupting your interview on the red carpet and mentioning he wanted to film a YouTube video with you? Him offering to actually walk the red carpet with you on his arm?!

Nope. Definitely not real.

So, since this was absolutely a dream, you figured you’d just go with it!

“We shall,” you replied as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You slid your hand into the crook of Minho’s elbow, and the two of you slowly made your way down the red carpet. Together.

It didn’t take long for you to be awed by his professionalism. When the cameras began to flash, he posed like a natural. It seemed so easy for him, but you figured it probably was easy after going through this so many times. 

He murmured helpful hints and reassuring words to you as you struggled through, and he even insisted on doing his interviews with you by his side.

(Of course, before the two of you approached each reporter, he asked you quietly if you would rather have the spotlight all to yourself. He didn’t want to usurp your first experience on the red carpet and would gladly step away so you could finish the process on your own. You declined every single time.)

When you finally reached the entrance to the theatre about an hour later, you figured Minho would say it had been nice to meet you and be on his way.

But you should’ve remembered that this was a dream!

“Do you want to come inside? We can sit together during the movie if you want. I mean, you’re pretty much my unofficial date already, but you can absolutely say ‘no’ if you don’t --”

“I would love to,” you interrupted, your voice more sure and firm than it had been all evening.

But hearing your favorite actor and biggest crush of all time declare that you were his date for the night would do that to you. Plus, Minho literally exuded confidence and warmth -- you’d always thought so while watching him on a screen, and it was both relieving and exciting to learn he was exactly the same in real life.

Minho smiled at you and then led you into the theatre, your heart now basically in a constant state of flips and somersaults.

Once the two of you took your seats in front of the screen, Minho turned slightly toward you.

“I have to admit, I’ve been watching your videos a lot since I filmed the reaction for the magazine,” he said with the most attractive half-smile you’d ever seen in your life. “Seriously, thank you so much for being so supportive.”

“Oh my god, no, thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “I can’t believe you watched my videos.”

“They’re kind of addicting,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what it is, but I definitely understand why you have so many subscribers. I actually created my own YouTube account just so I could subscribe to you.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart actually stopped somersaulting because it stopped beating altogether.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

“You’re so entertaining! It feels like watching those movies and shows with a friend. And I like how you’re really honest but still nice about it. You don’t seem to have a cruel bone in your body.”

“Uh, no, I think you’re getting me mixed up with yourself,” you replied with a somewhat awkward laugh.

Minho simply grinned at you, and the somersaults started back up inside your chest.

“I was serious about wanting to film with you, though,” he said, eyebrows raised earnestly. “I would love to collab --”

“Yes, absolutely,” you reassured him as fervently as you could. “Literally whenever. Please. Yes.”

“Okay, good,” Minho chuckled before reaching into his pocket and sliding out his phone. “Here, give me your number so I can let you know when I’m free next.”

You hesitated before accepting his phone because...

What?!

Minho was giving you his phone. His actual phone. So you could put in your number? Your number?

This night just kept getting more and more unbelievable.

But you were never in a million years going to pass up the opportunity to give Choi Minho your phone number, so you took his phone and quickly added yourself as a contact.

“Perfect,” Minho murmured, almost to himself, when you handed his phone back to him. He looked at the screen for a few moments, and you noticed a soft grin pulling at his lips. And then he shifted his gaze over to you and said, “I can’t wait.”

And... as your eyes locked on his...

You had a moment.

A moment.

One of those moments you will never, ever forget as long as you lived.

One of those moments where your future basically flashed before your eyes.

Minho arriving at your house to film a video with you, a friendship forming, late night texts and phone conversations, going out to restaurants whenever he was in town... a more than friendship forming.

And you truly could’ve sworn this was not just your heart wishing, but... you honestly felt like you were going to marry this man.

“I can’t either,” you replied softly just before the lights went down.

The first thing you did when you got home was set up your camera and film a video relaying everything about your experience at Minho’s movie premiere.

Of course, you didn’t mention The Moment -- y’know, the moment you had when you realized you were most probably going to marry him? And you could just feel that it wasn’t wishful thinking? You figured it was probably best to keep that to yourself for now.

But everything else you shared with your subscribers, and you did nothing to hide how wonderful and magical it had all been -- and it had really been Minho which had made it so perfect.

“And you guys, he is truly exactly the same in person as he seems in, like, interviews and stuff. He’s so nice and so friendly and so warm and so gracious and --”

But you were interrupted by a text message.

Most of the time, you left your phone on silent as you filmed, but you’d been too excited to get all of your thoughts out that you’d forgotten to switch the sound off before turning the camera on.

“Whoops,” you murmured as you reached for your phone on your desk in front of you.

Instead of simply turning your phone on silent, though, the actual text message you’d received caught your eye and was too intriguing to ignore.

It was from a number you didn’t have saved, but your instinct to read the first few words of a message from an unknown sender took over... and you were incredibly glad it did.

Because the message was:

Hey, it’s Minho 😁 Are you free next week?

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, CAPRICORN, AQUARIUS, PISCES

[angelicmichael]

Willow

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Reader, who is a witch (not tied to the og coven) is best friends with Michael. They decide to spend Valentines day together in outpost three. Based on this post, and the 'willow' music video by Taylor Swift.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: mentions of rituals/covens (its vague tho), slow burn, light angst, mutual pining, gross fluff, plot heavy and VERY descriptive I'm sorry dhdhd, valentines day fic, mentions of food, friends to lovers

A/N: yall rlly liked my last Michael blurb so I made this kinda similar!! Also the idea of witch! Reader not being tied to the og coven is NOT my idea, others have done it before - I just did it cause it made sense w the music video this fic is based off of ✌🏻. This is mostly me self indulging ngl so if the fic doesnt make sense that's why haha. The v beginning is like Sojourn! Era and then the rest of the fic is somewhere between fire & reign and outpost era. this fic is rlly just me trying to say happy early mf valentines day !! 💖💖 okay bye

February 14th was always a day you dreaded; The idea and concept of a whole fucking holiday being dedicated to just love.. really put a bitter taste in your mouth. In your opinion, it was just a reason for couples to show a disgusting amount of PDA and get away with it.

However; due to a incredibly corny and cliché situation you found yourself in; you now were seeing the incoming holiday in a different light. When you thought of the holiday.. You first thought of Michael. Michael Langdon.

Meeting Michael at all was a complete accident - You met months ago in fall; on a dark cloudy night. Every detail from that evening was etched and woven into your mind as if it had just happened yesterday; and you could only hope that it would remain that way forever. After all; that was the night when you had met your favorite person. You even remembered the weather.. The bitterness of the cold wind making it seem as if it was seconds from storming.

You were part of a small coven which was meeting due to a full moon, it was a rather mundane and basic ritual you were preforming. One of which you had preformed more times you could even count on your fingers.. However; what made that ritual special is that your coven happened to be recruiting.

Full black outfits, including thin, long cloaks is what everyone wore to the occasion.. After everything was over and done with; you went to leave - the bitter coldness of the night urging you to leave rather quickly.

However; something.. almost a invisible force made you stop walking away from the crowd and made you physically stop. You slowly stopped walking; and turned around. You sharply gasped when you saw a figure directly in front of you - wearing a dark ensemble that matched yours nearly identically.

Immediately you grew weary. A sharp, nauseated feeling started to manifest inside of you.

"Were you following me"? You spoke with your voice raised, your hands which previously fell loosely at your side were starting to curl into fists.

You could feel yourself getting defensive. You quickly flicked your eyes over at the other coven members - making sure you weren't causing a scene; not wanting to draw attention to the situation until it grew necessary.

"Yes, but.. look. I just wanted to talk to you.. away from the others". The boy stated.

You bit your lip to suppress a groan. You rolled your eyes, not really caring that he could see how bothered you were.

"Fine. But c'mon, make it quick". You said, not trying to hide the irritation in your voice.

You turned around and walked a few feet away from the crowd, not looking back but merely expecting him to follow you. You were expecting he was just another newbie with dumb questions, or needed clarification on something.

You turned to talk to him, and that's when you noticed something you about him you seemed to overlook earlier - his beauty. You were completely taken aback and breath taken. Light blue eyes met your gaze as you stared blankly at him; momentarily stunned. He looked beyond ethereal; his pale cheeks flushed a light pink from the cold and his blonde hair looked as if it could be spun from gold. It was almost like he could sense how you were suddenly taken aback.. A smug smirk played on his lips; if you didn't know any better you would say he almost seemed cocky.

"There's something about you that's different from the others. I could sense it". He stated.

"How"? You stuttered.

You watched as he took a couple steps toward you and in one quick swoop, pushed the hood of his cloak fully back. He got even closer but you didn't dare move. You watched him curiously as he turned to the side, pushing his blonde locks of hair out of the way to show you something behind his ear.. Your blood instantly went cold once you saw three sixes; however you weren't scared. In fact you were really the first person that Michael met that didn't practically faint when they saw his mark. Looking back; you supposed that's why you and Michael bonded so quickly and became so close.

It didn't take long for him after that to confine in you that people either avoided him or became obsessed once they knew; both reactions ultimately stemming from fear. You were the first person to look past that and to just see him as a actual human being - not just a vessel for some fucked up prophecy to play out.

Even though Michael's beauty was undeniable to you; the relationship you two had was strictly platonic.. and in the past that was never something that bothered you. You supposed that he was tired of people throwing themselves at his feet and what he really needed more than anything was a friend - so you chose to be that for him, not daring to try and test the boundaries your relationship had.

However; the boundaries were seemingly starting to come down naturally - because your relationship wasnt entirely platonic anymore. Things between you two weren't exactly black and white as they used to be; a great example of this, was how you two were planning on spending Valentines Day together.

You and Michael agreed to spend it as friends. Neither of you had a date and spending Valentines alone when you had Michael seemed redundant.. and honestly just boring. Instead of making Valentines day an all day event; it started for you two as a 'date' at 6 pm.

In order to avoid having to confront putting a label on your.. situationship, the venue for your lavish Valentines date was at a more.. private venue. He only gave you a address and instructions, you didn't really know what exactly to expect but you knew you weren't going to his house. It was somewhere new.

It was nearly six pm, the sun had just set - leaving the sky a shade somewhere between navy blue and pure black. The air was cold on your skin as you stepped out of the car, wondering where the hell you even were.

The area you found yourself in was completely bare and void of any trees, the only object or building you saw was a giant, black, metal structure. The instructions Michael gave you had told you about this but.. seeing it in person was merely jarring, oddly unsettling. You approached it, trying to ignore the nerves and anxiety you could feel creeping in.

You couldn't help but wonder what the hell this place was and why out of all the places you two could have a 'date', it would have to be here?

As you stood in front of an elevator - stepping in, you felt very reluctant to do so. It definitely felt a bit weird that Michael wanted to meet you in such a secluded place but.. he was your best friend. He would never hurt you.. especially on valentines day.. Right?

The doors opened and you slowly stepped out, immediately taken back. You were now in a oval room, with a long hallway stretching out. You first quickly scanned your surroundings for Michael but, he wasnt here. Not in your line of vision anyway. You nearly forgot you were here for Michael at all for a second. The interior was breathtaking; resembling a old, Victorian style mansion. Even though you were still utterly confused; Michaels reasoning for choosing this venue was starting to become more clear to you.

It was the cozy, romantic vibe the 'house' seemed to radiate. The dim lighting also amplified this affect; seemingly giving everything in sight a subtle golden glow, otherwise everything remained relatively dark. You walked through the building; down hallways, looking for any sounds of life at all. Your witchy senses didn't always work on Michael, so you didn't even bother to try to use those. He was right about how you were powerful but, his powers still outshone yours unfortunately.

You finally heard something, something faint; soft music playing distantly in the background. You followed it swiftly, the music getting louder and louder until you found him - in what appeared to be the library.

The room was immense; books were lined on shelves that bordered the room. Couches, along with a decent sized fireplace and chandelier - and of course a record player, also resided in the library. Playing a tune that sounded similar but you couldn't quite remember what it was.. whatever it was, it sounded old and romantic - maybe from the 50s.

"Your not very good at hiding, you know. The music was a dead giveaway". You commented playfully.

Michael greeted you with a smirk, obviously holding back laughter. He stood up from one of the couches; approaching you. He looked incredibly handsome in the normal black ensemble he was wore but tonight he sported a long black coat. Making you fondly nostalgic of the night you two met.

He got dangerously close to you, almost in your face but you weren't intimidated. Plus, you knew he wasnt trying to actually intimidate you. Michael being the way he was; you knew he wouldn't have asked you to spend Valentines with him if he didn't tolerate you in some way.

"Its a good thing I wasnt trying to hide then, is it"? He spoke; his eyes pierced into yours.

The direct eye contact was starting to get unnerving and so was the.. apparent tension. You took a step back, looking away and laughing awkwardly - trying to remind yourself you two were strictly friends. Best friends, in fact. Nothing more.. and nothing less.

"So.. what even is this place? You don't own this or something.. do you"? You asked, slyly changing the topic.

"Actually I do. It's being saved for something I have in the works; but nothing's official yet. I wanted to get your opinion though.. what do you think"? Michael asked.

Even though you absolutely loved, whatever the hell this place even was, something.. felt off. Perhaps it was the fact it was completely secluded and private. Too private. You knew Michael was into some weird shit with the Satanists but; you figured he would atleast tell you by now if he was planning on something big with them.. Something that would require a huge fucking mansion underground.

"This place is beautiful, Michael. But what is it for"?

"Your too eager for your own good, (y/n). You will know in due time, I promise; but for now.. come sit with me".

He gently grabbed your wrist and guided you over to one of the bare, black couches; you followed - sitting next to him.

The hours continuing were filled with incredibly cheesy gestures that you only rolled your eyes at, and teased him for. The first being a few small, pink flowers he had conjured up and then tucked into your hair. At first you really thought nothing of it, they were just pretty flowers. However; you knew due to Michael's nature that he didn't just so happen to come across those flowers, he summoned them purposefully - specifically for you.. You didn't bother to try and hide how flustered this made you.

"Those are beautiful; what are they"? You asked, gesturing to the flowers.

"Thought you'd never ask. Wild roses. They hold many meanings; most agree they represent both love, suffering, beauty.. life. They're even said to protect the living from the dead".

You couldn't help but to laugh at his explanation.

"Will they protect me from you? You know your not exactly human yourself". You teased.

The corner of Michael's lips slid into a slow smile, one that you couldn't quite decipher whether it was an ironic or genuine gesture.

You nearly jumped at how quickly one of Michael's hands suddenly slid up into your hair; seemingly picking out one of the petals that had fallen from one of the flowers - he retracted his hand, holding onto the petal.

"No. Your going to need something stronger than that to keep me away". He said playfully, before crushing the already wilted petal in his hand - letting it fall carelessly to ground.

You could only roll your eyes.

Next came the food and well.. you were beyond impressed. Your not certain exactly how he managed to get your favorite food down who knows how many feet underground, but.. he did. And it was perfect.

You were both pretty quiet during that time; Michael didn't really have a reason to be but you couldn't help but to get lost within your thoughts. Sure; you two were best friends but.. that didn't necessarily warrant him to do all of this for you. Was it possible that he felt.. something else, like you did?

You couldn't help but to shut that thought down as quick as it came; that had to just be you projecting. There was no way in hell he could love you back..

Wait.. love?

It was like a involuntary reflex the way you suddenly jolted up and backed away from the table. Even though it was just a thought, the fact you just admitted to yourself that you loved him.. What the fuck did that even mean?

Michael looked startled at well, you could tell by the color of his knuckles that he now had a death grip on his silverware. His icy, blue eyes matched yours with a startled gaze.. As if he was trying to contemplate your next move or to get a good read on you. You were more than well acquainted with Michael's powers by now; you knew how he had the ability to read minds and that's partially why you found yourself, slowly at first, starting to take steps away from him. Wanting desperately to get the fuck away from him. You knew that if Michael even suspected what you were thinking or how you felt, that your friendship could possibly be over. That would be it, he would want absolutely nothing to do with you. You would be no better than the dozens of women and even men that threw themselves at Michael; Maybe even worse.

You made it down a random hallway until you found yourself physically colliding into him - fucking transmutation.

You felt a sudden urge to just turn around to try and escape again but you knew he wouldn't let you. Instead you let yourself be captive, you let him hold you. Gently encasing you into a hug. It was painful how hard you were trying to hold back your tears - blindly running away was already embarrassing enough, letting him see you cry would be too much.. Too much for one night, anyways. You felt him let go of you - stepping back a little bit in order to make eye contact with you.

"What has gotten into you-" He started.

"Michael- I'm so sorry but I just need to go. We can talk about this tomorrow but for now I just really need to be alone-"

You tried to turn around in order to make another (more calm) attempt at leaving but you felt something grab at your wrist, yet again. His grasp, along with his hand were achingly soft. You hated how much you enjoyed him making physical contact with you - even if it was something just as docile as this. You also couldn't help but to hate the spark of electricity you felt when his skin touched yours - and you couldn't help but to wonder whether he felt it too.

"No. I need to know what I did wrong. I'm not letting us end today like this". Michael said, his voice was strained with emotion.

His words were spoken urgently, his voice unsteady and even threatening to break.. That's when you knew you completely fucked up. He totally misinterpreted your actions.. the sudden realization hit you, piercing your heart like a knife.

"No, your right. Can we sit"? You asked.

He let go of your wrist coldly, sauntering out of the hallway you two were in. You would be lying if you were to admit that his sudden cold actions didn't hurt you; it definitely stung but you couldn't help to feel in this moment that you kind of deserved it.

The walk over was quiet and even a bit awkward. When you two sat; he looked at you expectedly.. waiting for you to talk first and explain your sudden, impulsive actions.

"It wasnt you.. that's not why I tried to leave at all, Michael. You did everything right. I mean that's really the 'problem', even though calling it a problem still isn't the right word but.." You paused before carrying on.

"What you did tonight for me was perfect, and I'm so thankful for that, truly. But I just feel like I'm starting to interpret your actions in a different way than in which you mean them and that's not fair to you. I know you just want a friend-" Your words continuously came out faster the longer you spoke, you were completely rambling at this point but Michael stopped you.

"Hey, stop". He said softly.

You felt as if you were dreaming when you saw him start to move closer to you.. it happened so quickly it almost felt fake. Michael gently pushed you back onto the couch, so that you were basically laying down flat on your back. You pulled him back with you so that he was on top, your hands automatically going to his shoulders.. feeling the sudden urge to yank his black top off and to feel his skin under your palms. The feeling was tempting; you could feel how hot his skin was even with his shirt on. You assumed your hands were cold by the way Michael shivered and even groaned when you touched him, that had to be the only logical explanation for him acting like that..

The manner in which he bent down, his lips getting closer and closer to yours was nothing but diabolic. He stopped until the point where his lips were just ghosting above yours - maybe only really a mere centimeter away from touching. It felt entirely far too tempting to just - barely tilt your head forward and stop whatever game your friend Langdon was trying to play, but.. you didnt. In reality; the teasing was far too delicious for you to want it to end so soon.

"Who said I just wanted to be friends"? He whispered.

You could taste his breath as he spoke, you felt trapped.. But if you were to be honest with yourself, you wouldn't rather spend Valentines Day any other way than in this manner.. Trapped with your absolute favorite person, with nothing else in the world to do but to get lost in each other.

His lips roughly collided with yours with such passion that you really haven't ever felt before. It threw you off guard for a moment, but you figured there was no sense in shying from it. You had been craving to be loved by him for so long; craving for him to touch you like this and now that it was finally happening.. you only relaxed and embraced the feeling.

Time slipped away from you far too quickly but after all; time didn't really feel real at all when you were underground in a bunker. No windows or clocks to help ground you back into reality..

You knew it was atleast passed midnight now; hours had passed and you two were now residing in one of the random rooms that you had come to learn was of 'Outpost Three'. It was apparent how careful he was with his words when he told you about the place; almost like he didn't want to tell you too much. He told you most of everything, like the cooperative and how this building was for some type of event that would be taking place in the summer but you didn't probe farther. You knew he would tell you in all due time.

You two were lying on a random, spare bed. It was luxurious and dangerously soft, but if you were honest - the sheets almost seemed scratchy in comparison to Michaels bare skin. Your head wasnt on a pillow but instead on Michael's bare chest, his rhythmic heart beat nearly lulling you to sleep. Almost putting you in some type of odd trance.

You both watched the movie that was playing on his laptop; propped up on a few sparse pillows at the end of the bed. Although you really weren't trying to keep up with what was happening or what the actors were even saying. Instead, you chose to be fully present with Michael, almost entranced in his presence. You two weren't talking but, just being surrounded by him - feeling his fingers lazily playing with your hair was heaven to you.

You still felt as if you were in a dream. After all in what timeline would you ever be so lucky to call someone like Michael, yours?? Even though you two weren't exactly official, you really didn't mind at this moment. Labels only seemed to really complicate things and in your opinion; you felt more than privileged to just sit here entangled with Michael, and to escape the rest of reality for a while.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon

[woahitslucyylu]

Say it.

GIF is not mine. Credit to OG creator.

Author’s Notes/Concerns/Request for Prayer: So, my friend @sadeyesgf posted this and it just spoke to me, and this is what it said. It’s filfth - tasteful filfth, but filfth nonetheless.

P.S. I’m also posting on my phone. Forgive formatting errors.

Warning: tiny mention of just an off day with appearances.

———————————————————————-

“Querida? Mami? Where are you?” Angel’s voice boomed through the house - trying to draw you out of your hiding place. Mumbles came from the bedroom as Angel stalked down the hallway - pushing the door of your shared room open. He sighed heavily, finding your crumpled frame buried under blankets. Without request, Angel toed his boots off as he watched you peek from under the covers - eyeing his movements.

His smirk was panty-dropping as he slid his jeans off and discarded his shirt - leaving him boxer-clad as he slid into bed, his hands caressing your body. “Come here.” His voice playful as you turned to face him - your cheeks tear stained and eyes red-rimmed. “Baby, what’s wrong?” The pad of his thumb caressed your cheek - your head resting in his hand as you felt your body sigh - feeling safe in Angel’s arms.

Your breath was ragged as you inhaled - “It was just a shit day. We spent hours shopping and trying on clothes and nothing felt right. It was too tight or too short or the wrong color. It just was a shit day.” You folded into him - the feelings melting into the silence as Angel held you tight. He pulled back - his hands sliding under your tank top - the cool metal of his rings torching your warm skin.

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” Angel raked his eyes over your body as he pulled at his bottom lip.

You felt your face twist in annoyance. Your eyebrows crinkled as you rolled your eyes - irritation flashing across your face at Angel’s clique remark.

“You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend,” You nuzzled close - pressing your lips to his neck, goosebumps erupting at your touch, “It’s the rule.” You smiled against his warm skin, feeling his hands snake around your waist - gripping your ass.

His lips found yours for a soft kiss as he pushed you softly to the mattress - his muscular thigh sliding between your legs as he hovered over you.

“Say it.” Angel’s dark eyes held your gaze as he made his request. You stilled beneath him. His odd request caught you off guard.

“I said say it, mami.” His command was punctuated by a shift of his knee - the pressure to your core leaving you breathless.

“I’m beautiful.” It sounded more like a question than a statement as it fell from your mouth.

Angel smirked sinfully, “I don’t believe you. Say it again.” He dipped - dropping soft kisses against your jaw line. Your response came too late as Angel sunk his teeth into your tender skin.

“I’m beautiful.” It came out breathlessly as he rewarded you with his hand sliding up your shirt. His fingertips dancing under your breasts. “Good girl.” He pressed his lips to your collarbone, sucking at the soft flesh.

“Your shape is perfect. My hands fit everywhere.” His palm slid over your breast - his calloused hands rubbing your skin - goosebumps in his trail. “Say it.” He pulled your nipple - rolling it into a harden peak as you arched into him.

A coy smile slid across your face as you met Angel’s hips - realizing his game, “I have a perfect shape.” His tongue swirled your breast - his tongue leaving a white hot path down your chest.

“How could you ever think you’re anything but mi reina?” He mumbled against your skin as he dropped kisses over your stomach. You felt your panties wet as Angel’s lips pressed against the lace band.

“Say it.” His breath was hot against your core as you looked at him through the frame of your knees.

“I’m your queen.” You pushed your calf down on his shoulder - your silent plea bringing a low chuckle from Angel. His tongue slid over the rough lace - the fabric rubbing against your heat.

Your hips raised as Angel pulled your panties off. His hands sliding over your thighs as he pulled your legs over his shoulders.

You pressed your calves against his rigid shoulders as his lips found your clit - pushing him further into you.

“You taste so good.” His flat tongue ran the length of your slit. “Say it.”

A whine escaped your throat as you pushed your hips against him - desperate for his touch.

“No.” His hands gripped your hips onto the mattress. His rings pressed into your soft skin as he held you still.

“Daddy said say it.” He commanded as his tongue slid against you again - thrusting into your heat.

The jerk was reflexive as Angel’s tongue slid in and out of you. You rocked against his face. The burn from his beard rubbing your thighs as you rode his tongue.

“I taste so good.” The words strangled from you as you came against Angel’s tongue. Your hips stuttering against his beard.

His eyes, half-hooded, found your gaze - hazy with lust as he hovered over you, beard glistening. Your hands raked his back. His muscles rippling at your touch as you pulled him close. Your lips capturing his in a fury as you tasted yourself.

“Do you feel that, mami?” He pushes into you. His throbbing dick sliding against your aching core. Your smile was sly as you rolled underneath him - raising your ass to his hips.

You felt him against your thigh as you rocked back - begging for him to take you. His hands spread you lewdly - watching as he disappeared into your slick folds. You stayed still - feeling every ridge as Angel slid in and out of you slowly.

“Look at how you take this dick. You were made for me with this tight pussy.” Angel pushed deep - feeling your walls clench around him as he stilled. “Say it.” He rocked his hips - shudders radiating through your body.

“I can take this dick.” You pushed back, grinding against him as you begged - “Please, Daddy. I can take it.” The pout over your shoulder pushed Angel back - his hips punishing yours as his pace became erratic.

The sound of your wetness punctuated each thrust as Angel watched your hips jiggle against his. His fingers wrapped in your hair as he held you still, “You feel so fucking good.” Your head snapped back as he reclined - watching your cream wash over him as you came hard.

You rested against him as he thrusted into you - your ass bouncing against his thighs. “Can you give me one more? Please, Querida.” His thick fingers pressed against your swollen clit.

Tears welled in your eyes as your walls fluttered - lights dancing against your eyelids as you gushed against Angel. Your strong orgasm flooding his thighs.

“Damn, mami.” The choked words broke into the air as he stilled - his dick twitching inside you.

You slid to the mattress. Your muscles tingling as you lay still, watching Angel’s chest rise and fall with shortened breath.

His hand sought you, sliding over your sticky skin - pulling you into his body.

“Don’t ever think you’re not good enough. You're perfect.” Angel’s voice was soft in the still room.

“If you need me to say it a hundred times, I will. Remember, it’s the rule. ” You felt his smirk as he kissed your forehead.

[bellamybellamyblake]

Six Years (Part 3)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic!Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you’d become.

Warning: 

so much mf angst, themes of addiction and depression, self-destructive behavior and a tiny bit of comfort in there

Word Count:

2k (i got a little ~carried away~ lol)

A/N:

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. i wasn’t happy with the og thing i had down so i literally just rewrote the whole thing in a few hours and it’s sm better than it would’ve been. me holding off posting this did wonders and i’m more confident in it too even tho i kinda think i suck at writing but also kinda don’t idk my self esteem varies wildly

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to those who celebrate ❤️

the gif (and all the other ones) are not mine and i take no credit for them

if you want to be tagged in any of my works, send me a message or an ask and i’ll add you :)

@shipshipshipau

The girl with aqua eyes - although now they were more of a spotted gray - had only seen one moment of weakness from you. It would be the last time Octavia had seen you, and you, her. 

“We’re surviving!” She had started shouting, as if she believed that set in a lower tone, her words would be construed as lies. “The human race is surviving! That’s what matters!”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this, and you know it!” Your voice broke involuntarily as it rose to match hers. You shook your head as you tried to desperately stop the ache in your chest as you brought her - probably dead - brother up. Tears clung to your eyelashes, waiting for you to blink so they had permission to fall. Your throat had been closed for a while now, and the rest was merely a weak cry. “If this is the price that we have to pay...maybe we shouldn’t be.”

You’d never know if it was the crack in your demeanor or your choice of words, but either way, her eyes softened when you spoke.

“Look at me.” You did as told and she gripped the back of your neck in one hand, pulling your forehead so close it almost came into contact with hers.

The air changed as Octavia came alive under the monster she wore for armor. Her mask coming off allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You would begin to regret not smashing the helmet to bits while it was off and vulnerable.

“You have to stop listening to them,” She said. “It’ll tear you apart. It’s better they get to live to hate us than die slowly and love us-”

“They don’t deserve this either, O-”

“We bare it, so they don’t have to. You’re the one that told me that. You can’t back out on me, now. I can’t do this without you.”

For so long you were okay with her needing you to do the dirty work. Besides the first time - when you did it together - she’d give the sentence and you’d see it through. Every single time, it felt like it was killing you more than them, but that didn’t matter, did it? If you weren’t going to do it, who would?

It was the last thing Octavia had asked of you and you had no intention of letting her down.

Bellamy didn’t know what he would see when they finally dropped him down into the bunker, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surrounded by more death than he was prepared for, he couldn’t help himself to not move his gaze around the arena. The fences between him and the living reminded him of the cages the Mountain Men held him in. The walls were stained deep with crimson, leaving the dull concrete behind it unrecognizable. He looked to the blonde at his side, and they asked each other the same silent question:

What the hell happened down here?

His whiskey shaded orbs kept moving, albeit reluctantly. They stopped on Marcus Kane, who looked so much older than last time. His hair and beard were inches longer and grayer than the natural brown he used to have. He was so pale, it was unnerving - almost as if he was close to death. They connected eyes briefly and that’s when the younger saw the deadly weapon held to his neck by the hands of-

No.

Your back was facing him, but it didn’t matter how long it had been, he’d never miss you. The locks that adorned your head were longer too, almost to your waist. The natural shade was faded though, like you had aged twenty years instead of six. He watched your shoulders heave and your hands start to shake as Kane talked to you.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from the impure red that dyed your skin and clothes.

While you were distracted, he chose to act, protecting Marcus from his own flesh and blood. He didn’t miss the gears in your head turning as your gaze landed on him. He saw your eyes sink into a trance of recognition and a deep sort of longing overtook your senses. The melancholic need you had tried to numb for half a decade came back in full force and held no mercy.

You remembered how he always smelled of the forest after the sky wept. You remembered how sure but gentle his touch was on your skin. You remembered how his remarkably soft lips would feel when they pushed against yours as they begged for more at every turn. You remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heart thump as he assured you everything would be alright, even if he didn’t think it would be.

Was that gone forever, now, too?

Bellamy noticed something else, though; something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never seen before.

Something that scared him.

It had been hours since and neither of you had bothered to find the other. Getting everyone out was a great distraction for him. Talking to his little sister, whose eyes seemed to hold the same thing yours did, was another.  She had explained to him and Clarke that Wonkru had deemed her Bloodreina and you, Ripa. So, no, nothing as special as death from above or the red queen or the commander of death, but death, nonetheless.

People have done well not to forget that.

When Clarke told him you still hadn’t come out and no one had seen you, however, he didn’t have a choice anymore.

The halls were those of nightmares, spirits lurking around every corner and it was cold and empty. He knew the lights were kept low to save power but it felt almost purposeful, like they were meant to scare you. To tell you not to act out or some kind of monster would jump from the shadows and make you pay.

But he didn’t know if it was you or his sister.

A chill slithered up his spine.

If someone told him this wasn’t real, he’d do anything he could to believe them. He wished that he was seconds away from being shaken awake by Raven or Monty, and they would tell him it was just another nightmare. He wished he was still on the Ring, praying ignorantly to anyone that would listen that his family on earth were still okay. 

Breaking him from his thoughts, a yellow lamplight caught his attention. At the end of the windowless corridor, it shone out of a slightly ajar door. Using every ounce of strength he possessed to not walk away, he pushed it open. It cried at the motion, diminishing any and all remnants of silence that swallowed the floor.

His eyes found you catching yourself from falling caused by a failed attempt at standing. A half empty bottle of whatever works in one hand, the other one holding you up against the bed frame. The high-pitched creak pulled your attention to the front of the room with a furrowed brow and he allowed himself to take in your appearance.

A wrinkled, cotton shirt sat on your chest and it was a different one than before; faded white and thin, yet cleaner than the other one which was colored with blood. Your hair was damp - the result of taking a shower - but lazily tied back in a half-assed effort to get it out of your face.

You stared at each other for a minute. A million things were hitting your slow-moving thoughts at once, too much for you to even try to comprehend. He finally took one step towards you, parting his lips to say something but no sound came out. He was stumped, hundreds of words flooded his mind but not a single one sounded good enough.

Nothing he could say would make what happened in the arena okay.

It was unbearably painful. There he was, finally right in front of you, and you had no idea what to talk about. No idea what to start with, end with, bring up, discuss, laugh about, cry about, scream about. Nothing was good enough to say to the man that kept you alive for such a long time, such a long time ago. 

Too long ago.

You inevitably broke the silence, though your words came out cracked and in a slur. A defensive and humorless scoff left your lips, an effort to cover up the discomfort. Or it was because you were too drunk to shut yourself up. “You gonna say somethin’?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped he’d sound different. It was childish and irrational, but you hoped that you could say you both changed too much and he would have nothing to hold against you.

Because no matter how far away it seemed, sometimes you could still remember what it felt like to be that innocent seventeen-year-old that hadn’t lived yet; what it felt like to be that girl who still couldn’t stand her father. To be that girl who sprained her ankle within ten minutes of being on earth for the first time. To be that girl who hadn’t made a friend aside from Clarke and Wells in her whole life. That girl who had just kissed a boy for the first time.

The girl who was loved and not lost yet.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Where the hell did she go?

That made the room spin, and you had to blink a few times to make it stop, taking a seat on the thin mattress. You took a drink, making the liquid slosh from the base to the neck of the bottle and back again. When it settled, you rested your head between your shoulders as you heard him say your name. It bounced off the walls in the room, hitting each one again, and again, and again like it was a bullet waiting to find its target. You had wanted the word to fall from his lips for so long that you’d forgotten what it sounded like. You had forgotten what he sounded like, and you fucking hated yourself for it.

Then you realized he said, “Ripa,” and those four deadly little letters crushed your throat and stole the air from your lungs.

That name hadn’t felt right from the start, but it was what you had been simultaneously promoted to and reduced by. The only person who refused to call you that over the years, was your father. For two thousand days, he made sure to steer clear of it.

That’s not who you are and I know it, even if you don’t.

A sudden and hauntingly raw sob escaped, and you knew his eyes were on you in an instant.

“Don’t call me that,” You begged, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered. Breath picking up, you were practically terror-stricken at the idea that all you were to him now was a murderer. You vigorously tried to shake the thought away, squeezing your eyes shut as everything that kept you numb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Y-You can’t-Not you too. Please, not you.”

Bellamy’s hand brushed your cheek and tears rained freely. You immediately leaned into the familiar and delicate warmth and you really fucking hoped this wasn’t your mind playing a trick on you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” When he spoke this time, his words sounded choked too. His other hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and just...held you. “It’s okay.”

It was like you were standing at the edge of a building, teetering the edge before accidentally falling. Only, before you could plummet to your death, someone caught your hand, and it occurred to you that you really wanted them to pull you back up.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Your voice was just so, so weak. Beaten down and broken.

“Never.” He said it with so much confidence and finality, you almost had to convince yourself it was real and not a dream. “I promise.”

[wordsandshawn]

Secret | Part 1 | #ShawnMendesWritingCircle

A/N: I’m so excited to get to be a part of this writing circle. Thank you @saysweartogod-og​ for coming up with this amazing idea. This fic is a little spin off of a secret billionaire trope, and I can honestly say I’m so excited to see where some of the amazing writers participating in this decide to take it. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, and feel free to send feedback or thoughts about the chapter and where you think it might go, because my guess is as good as yours, and I’d love to talk about it! 

WC: 2.6K

~

From the moment you met Shawn six months ago, you knew that letting yourself get involved with him was a bad idea. It took you about three seconds to come up with a handful of reasons why you could never let yourself fall for him, but it only took him one night to make you forget them all.

You stepped into his condo, spotted him, and knew who he was immediately before the words, “Hey, I’m Shawn,” Even fell from his lips. You told yourself you’d never come back here before you spoke a single word to him. You also vowed to kill Brian and Alicia the second you got them alone.

Brian is dating your roommate, which is how you wound up here in the first place. Alicia knows you rarely ever go out because you’re either working or studying, so when she found out you weren’t working for the first time on a Friday night, she practically begged you to come with her. She said she was meeting some of Brian’s friends for the first time and didn’t want to be alone. Despite you telling her that she’d obviously have Brian there, she refused to give up, and finally, you reluctantly agreed to go. You had no idea that Brian’s “friend” was Shawn Mendes.

At first, your only focus was getting through the party and out of the condo without anyone posting a photo of you online, knowing that photo would be circulated within minutes if it had Shawn in it too, and that’s the last thing you’d want. You didn’t expect it to be too difficult to avoid being in a photo with Shawn considering the condo was not small by any means, and there’s no reason for him to take any type of notice of you.

Even though you regretted accepting the invitation, you still decided to make the most of the night. Since you rarely let yourself go out, you were determined to enjoy the one night you had. You’re still nursing your first drink, despite it already being warm. As time passes, you watch as everyone around you becomes more and more inebriated. Phones are out, as they often are at parties like these, and you’re tired of hiding in the darkest corner you could find, so you slip outside. You’re not outside for even five minutes before you hear the sliding door open, the music drifting out from inside.

“Y/n, right?” Shawn questions, stepping outside, and you try to hide the shock on your face over the fact that he remembered your name.

“Mhmm,” You respond intentionally looking away from him.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks, taking the spot beside you by the railing so the two of you are standing shoulder to shoulder, except his shoulder is about five inches above yours.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You respond, not wanting to give him the real answer to that question.

“They’re all taking a lot of pictures in there.” He says, as though that’s an answer to the question, but it’s not.

“It’s your party, why wouldn’t you want to be in the pictures?” You question, surprised. You know why you don’t want to be in them, but you can’t seem to fathom why he wouldn’t want to be in pictures with his friends at his own place.

“Don’t want people to know where I am,” He says with a shrug. “What about you, why’d you slip out just now?” He asks again since you avoided the question the first time.

“Needed some air,” You lie, keeping your eyes trained on the city lights.

He doesn’t press the topic anymore. You’re expecting him to wander away, back inside to the party, but he doesn’t. Shawn asks about how you know Brian and you explain that he’s dating your roommate. To be polite, you ask him the same question and he shares that they met when they were six and on the same soccer team. For some reason, conversation comes easy with him, and you almost let your guard down. Almost.

After a talking for a while, he asks, “Can I get your Instagram?”

Suddenly you remember the promise you made to yourself earlier. “I don’t have one.” You say before slipping past him and heading back inside in search of the bathroom. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s wearing a perplexed look. When people hear you don’t have an Instagram, they look at you like you’re from outer space. That’s how ridiculous they think it is, and then they think you’re lying because you’re not into them. Even though you’re not lying, you never really cared if that’s what they thought.

By the end of the night, you’re just glad to make it out of there. Alicia is drunk enough that you drive her car back to your apartment, and the whole time, she’s mumbling about how she thinks Shawn likes you and about how Brian told her that he thinks you two would be good together. You tell her she’s talking nonsense, and Shawn would never like you like that, but deep down, you knew you already liked Shawn more than you would want to admit.

Brian gave Shawn your number, and you texted for two months before moving beyond friendship, even though you both knew it was heading in that direction from the very beginning. It took that long for you to finally be convinced that he was a safe person to be with. Shawn knew from the very beginning, before you even got together, that you did not want to go public with the relationship. He knew that you were completely off of social media, so it made sense that you wanted to keep your life private, and he agreed that it would be for the best. 

Even after you got together, he was rarely ever in Toronto. He was busy traveling for work, and you were busy with work and Uni, so it was mostly a long distance relationship with a lot of texting and facetiming, but you’ve managed to make it work and treasure the small amounts of time you have together. 

Shawn’s finally back in town, and you spent most of the day lazily hanging out. When night hit, a bunch of Shawn’s friends came over, including Brian and Alicia. This party feels a lot different from the last one. In that one, you were keeping to yourself, mostly in the corner or outside. Tonight, you feel like you can let your guard down, at least a little bit. Shawn had made it clear that his friends couldn’t post any pictures with him in them because he was supposed to be in Miami and his management would basically kill him if it got out he slipped away to come home to Toronto. Shawn was determined to come home for the weekend. He missed you, so he made a promise to his management that no one would find out he was here.

It worked out better for you because you felt like you were safe from worrying about pictures posted online. What you didn’t realize was that his friends never promised not to post pictures at all, just that they wouldn’t post pictures of Shawn. You’re standing around the kitchen island, laughing about something Alicia is saying when you spot Brian looking down at his phone. Out of curiosity, your eyes fall on his screen to see you and Alicia. He clicks post before you have a chance to say anything. In a second, you’re standing in front of him. “Hey, what did you just post?” You ask him.

“Don’t worry, it’s a nice picture.” He says, shrugging.

“Brian, delete it.” You say. He’s already drunk, and you’re starting to wish you had more than one drink because of the anxiety raising up within you. “Please, you have to delete that. Delete it right now, please.” You swallow your anxiety and fear, trying to keep your emotions from getting the better of you. It’s only now that you realize that you were basically screaming, and all the other conversations going on stopped because everyone is focused on you.

“Chill,” Brian says, but when you make it clear that you’re serious, he finally concedes. “Fine.” He deletes it, showing you his phone as he does so.

“Thanks,” You mumble before pushing past everyone still standing around staring at you and disappearing into Shawn’s room, slamming the door behind you. You pace across the room a couple of times before you hear a knock on the door.

You don’t say anything or make a move to open it. You’re still trying to calm your breathing and remind yourself that nothing happened. The picture was only up for no more than a few minutes. Everything’s okay, and you’re just being paranoid, at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

The door opens, and you turn to see who it is. Shawn’s standing in the doorway, questions swimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask any of them right away. You sit down on the bed, taking a deep breath, readying yourself to face him. He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “You okay?” He asks.

You swallow hard to keep your emotions down, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry about that.” You nod toward the door, but you don’t offer an explanation.

Shawn takes a seat next to you, “That wasn’t just about us keeping our relationship a secret, was it?” He questions softly. He’s putting the pieces together. Shawn wasn’t even in the Instagram story, and even though you know Shawn’s fans keep track of his every move and watch all of his friend’s stuff, you’re not delusional enough to think that if you’re in one story everyone will know about you and Shawn. But as soon as you realized that Shawn’s friends get tens of thousands of views on their stories, it worried you. You’re worried that someone would see it, someone who you didn’t want to see it.

“I’m sorry I freaked out.” You respond. “But you should get back to your friends. I think I’m just going to go.” You say, starting to stand up.

Shawn reaches out for you, taking your hand in his. “Please don’t go.” He says. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He seems concerned. Even though you’ve only known him for a couple of months, you already trust Shawn more than you’ve trusted anyone else. But with all of his friends here, along with knowing he’s already had a few drinks, you know now’s not the time to talk about this.

“I really think I should go. I’ll see you later, okay?” Shawn doesn’t try to stop you again. He’s already made it clear that he wants you to stay, but if you want to go, he’ll let you.

You get into your car and drive back to your apartment. When you arrive, you see that Shawn has texted you a few times. He asks you to text him when you get home safely. He also lets you know that if you want to talk about what happened, he’s there.

You text him back, letting him know you made it home, but you don’t say anything about the picture. After replying to Shawn, you turn off your phone and get ready for bed, trying to fall asleep before you worry yourself sick.

The next morning, when you wake up, you’re surprised that you don’t see a message from Shawn. He must still be sleeping, you think to yourself before getting out of bed. After brushing your teeth and putting your contacts in, you start walking toward the kitchen in search of breakfast. You stop short as soon as you step out of the hallway because you see Shawn sitting at your dining room table. He looks up from his phone when he sees you.

“Hey, Alicia let me in.” He explains before nodding toward the donuts, “I brought donuts.”

“Thanks,” You whisper, pulling out a seat and sitting down.

“Can we talk about last night?” He asks, hesitantly.

You knew that you would have to tell him sometime, but you were hoping you could avoid it for at least a little while longer.

“My dad’s really,” You pause, searching for the right word, finally saying, “Controlling.”

Shawn’s eyebrows knit together, and he watches you closely. He doesn’t know where this conversation is going, and you don’t blame him.

“Both of my parents wanted me to go into the family business, but I didn’t want to. They didn’t want to hear it or even consider letting me do anything else. When I turned eighteen, I left. I got a scholarship to a university they never knew I applied to. I deleted all my social media’s and I moved away.” You haven’t spoken those words aloud to anyone, ever, and you didn’t realize they would be so difficult to say.

“You ran away?” Shawn questions, his voice barely above a whisper, and you know that he’s just trying to wrap his mind around all of it. It’s a lot, so you don’t blame him.

“I’m not a teenaged runaway. I’m not a missing person.” You respond, knowing how it sounds. “I was eighteen. I told them I was moving away to go to University. I just didn’t tell them which one because I didn’t want them to just show up or think they could buy their way back into my life. I needed to do it on my own.”

He’s not quite understanding how you could just cut your family out of your life, and you know it’s a difficult concept. “Buy their way in?” He asks.

“Yeah, knowing my dad, he’d do something like buy a building on campus or something and then make a whole show of dedicating and opening it, or find some way to show up and manipulate their way back into my life, and I just didn’t want that.”

“So, what does your dad do?”

“You ever heard of Ardes Corp.” Shawn’s eyes widen. Everyone’s heard of Ardes Corp. “My real name is Y/n Ardes. I started using my middle name as my last name, so people wouldn’t know.”

“Okay, but why go through all these lengths to still not be found by them? You clearly did it all on your own, putting yourself through Uni and everything. Why would it matter if they saw a picture of you online?”

“You know how I said I told them I was leaving, so I didn’t just run away?”

“Yeah?”

“Well it wasn’t the best conversation. They kind of disowned me, and I kind of don’t want them to find me and confront me or tell me I’m living my life wrong or do whatever they might do if they change my mind and try to drag me back home.” That may not be the full story, but you think it’ll be at least enough to satisfy Shawn for the time being.

When he nods, and hands you a napkin, you take it gratefully.

“I guess that’s why you won’t even step outside with me, huh?” He questions, opening the box of donuts.

You bite your lip, meeting his eyes and nodding.

He nods back, a silent understanding passes between the two of you. Even though you just threw a lot of information about your past at him, he doesn’t seem to be put off by it, instead, he took it all in stride.

“Thanks for buying the donuts.” You say, as he motions for you to choose first.

“You’re welcome.” He says with a smile.

You choose the twist and Shawn takes one with chocolate on it, and the two of you eat in comfortable silence. You have no doubt that Shawn has more questions, and there’s a lot more that he deserves to know, but he’s only here for another day, and you’d much rather focus on this delicious donut and the idea of some quality time alone with your boyfriend instead of rehashing your past.