#or maybe some days i'd stay inside and read a book and learn about the history of hyrule

[hoodie-prince-kid]

once again feeling sadt over not being in kakariko village.....

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 11

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 17 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Her eyes were on him while Jungkook looked around her apartment, noticing that nothing had changed -except for the pair of boxing gloves at the top of her dinner table, next to some old magazines and books.

—Are you boxing?

—What?

Jungkook didn't ask the question again. Instead, his index pointed to the red gloves.

—If you need help, I can teach you —he smirked.

—No, thank you —she faked a smile—. I'd rather stay a whole day punching a wall without protection than having to stand your ass by choice.

—Yikes, that'd hurt —he poked both of his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.

It was none of his business whether she learned how to box or not, or where she was doing it -and, even less, why she took the sudden choice of doing it. She had joined a random gym among the list of gyms involved in those fights, that Alan sent her after she insisted a little bit too much.

—Now... can you explain again why you're here?

—My date was completely fine —his eyes were back on her— and, after eating your brownie —he emphasized on the fact that she was the one who prepared it—, she closed herself up in the bathroom.

—Well, that's too bad —she sighed—. You ate two pieces, and you're here being a pain in the ass. Don't you think that maybe the fact that she's in the bathroom has more to do with her than with me?

—You're fooling no one —he peeped, momentarily pointing at her, before he started walking to her with slow steps—. A brownie? After you literally screamed you'd kill me if it wasn't illegal? —he scoffed— I bet if I looked around I'd find a tiny box with whatever you put in that brownie. It's alright. You overheard my conversation over the phone, about how I was going to meet someone, and got jealous. Did a 2x1.

Y/n stopped for a quick second, realizing that if she fooled him to be close enough to her, she'd manage to snatch his phone and close herself somewhere to delete the video he was blackmailing her for. She just needed to play along for a bit.

—Hmm —she thought out loud, tilting her head and piercing his eyes with hers—, what if I admit that I did something to the brownie?

—I think that's quite obvious —Jungkook shook his head—. You should admit you didn't want me to go on that date.

—You're so full of yourself —her tone was suggestive, low enough to appeal to his most guttural side—. Why don't you just think that I did it to piss you off?

—Because there are a billion other ways to piss me off, and you still tried the one that'd ruin my date.

And while, in fact, she did it to ruin his date, nowhere in her head she ever thought of doing it out of jealousy. She just wanted to attack where it hurted him the most.

—So what if I did it out of jealousy? —she purred, inviting him to step closer to her.

—You could've just admitted it —he smirked—. I never repeated with anyone, but I'd be able to do an exception with you.

Y/n held back from rolling her eyes at that comment, keeping up the act until his body was millimeters away from being glued to hers. Her fingers moved over the soft cotton fabric of his white t-shirt, lowering through his torso until she met with the edge of his jeans.

Just a little bit more.

Her fingers probed at the beginning of one of his pockets, almost sliding inside until his fingers trapped her wrist and moved it away on the top of her head.

—Ever been told you should've been an actress?

It was too good to be true.

She quickly moved her other hand, thinking of slapping his face as hard as possible to distract him enough with the pain to be able to reach to his pocket again, but he moved faster, blocking the move before she could hit his cheek.

She should've thought that he was a professional boxer. Of course his reflexes were perfect in those situations.

—You think I'd buy you did it out of jealousy? —Jungkook mocked her— I bet you did it so I'd feel sick, enough for you to offer to help me while I'm in the bathroom and snatch my phone away.

—Oh my god, what the fuck are you talking about?

Y/n managed to let go of his grip, stepping back a little as she tried to process the twisted plan he had deducted from what she did. And that, after hearing it, she thought that was definitely what she should've done.

—You're sick in the head —she accused him.

—Me? —Jungkook replied back, exaggeratedly pointing at himself— Says the one who put god knows what on somebody else's food?

—I should've definitely put arsenic in it —she spitted, leaning closer to him.

—You could only wish you'd be able to get rid of me that way —he challenged—. I'd haunt you every single day of your miserable life, since you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep in that bed.

—Good for you, because that's the closest you'd be to being with me in a bed —she barked back.

Something clicked in their brains when they realized how close they were to each other again, heated up by the sudden argument. Her eyes momentarily flew to his pierced lips, and Jungkook caught on that way too fast for her to pretend that it didn't happen.

His hands cupped her cheeks, drawing her into a kiss that she picked up the pace of as soon as their lips were linked together. All the anger, all the held back fury was freed with every move of their mouths, but also every hidden desire, every small wish of living again what happened a few nights back was exposed whenever their tongues twirled around one another.

Jungkook ate up her gasp when he pinned her against the wall, feeling her hands move from his torso to his neck at the same time his hands moved down her body to hold her by the hips. A powerful throb in his crotch, that reached every corner in his body, appeared the second her teeth squeezed the soft skin around his lower lip, indirectly pulling from one of his piercings as well.

In an attempt to erase any possibility of that ending, Jungkook cupped her ass cheeks, lifting her body up until her legs were wrapped around him. Y/n was the one who kissed him again, sinking her fingers in the locks of his hair before he felt encouraged to move lower, hiding his face in the curve of her neck to suck and lick every bit of sensitive skin in there.

He just loved the way her fast pulse felt against his tongue whenever he sucked on that spot.

—See how it isn't that difficult to give in to what you want? —he teased her, biting her earlobe.

—Shut up.

Jungkook moved his head back, rubbing his lips against her again.

—Make me.

She was close to doing exactly what he asked her to do, but something made him move his head back. Under her confused look, Jungkook terrorized at the feeling he was getting.

He couldn't be that unlucky.

For a quick moment, he thought it was a false alarm and that he'd be able to ignore it, but another squeak of his stomach made him finally move back, letting go of her body carelessly. He tried to leave her back on the ground, but his body was in such an urge to run away from there that he didn't make sure her feet were on the solid floor, causing her to slip and fall in front of him.

—What...? —when she looked up through the locks of her messy hair, she could see Jungkook walking fast to the door of his bathroom— Jungkook, don't dare.

But he completely ignored her warning, locking himself inside the bathroom before she reached the door.

—Jungkook, get out of there —she hit the door—. Jungkook!

Her feet kicked the door one last time, surrendering to what was going on because there was nothing she could do to avoid it.

—Ouch —she whined, rubbing her ass check with the palm of her hand, only being aware of the pain of her fall then.

Y/n sat on the armrest of her couch, looking at the closed door he disappeared in, waiting for him to get out and kick him out of her house. But time went by, and there were no changes. Her eyelids eventually closed with the passage of time, and her body gave in to gravity every time she lost energy, recomposing before she could meet the ground again.

After thirty minutes, she tried to sit still to keep her position, but her body didn't take long to start giving in to tiredness, opting for heading to bed and dealing with Jungkook the next day when her batteries were charged again.

Jungkook felt so embarrassed when he finally felt good enough to leave the bathroom, that he stayed inside those four walls for another fifteen minutes as he tried to battle his shame. He had cleaned the mess, he had tried to make the smell disappear, but his body was frozen right at the door because he didn't want to see Y/n looking at him disgusted.

Although he realized that wasn't a problem way too late.

When he opened the door again, the living room was completely dark and there was no sight of Y/n. Confused, he silently walked to her bedroom, managing to see her with the small glimpses of light that came through her curtains from the lights in the street.

—Peacefully sleeping while I could've died inside the bathroom because of her —he clicked his tongue, offended by the situation.

Jungkook tried to be as careful and silent as possible as he half closed the door that she had left open, making his way to the couch to get some sleep after such a hectic day.

Y/n dragged her feet through the ground, making her way out of her room to meet up with a pair of feet hanging over the armrest of her couch, crossing one among the other. She was surprised by how little she cared about the fact that he was there. She was unbothered about it -probably because deep inside she knew she was the only responsible of him spending the night there.

But that didn't mean she'd let him sleep until he felt comfortable enough to wake up.

It was seven in the morning, she had things to do, and she for sure wouldn't invite him over to get something for breakfast.

Her hand patted the sole of one of his feet over his white socks, getting him to squirm and snuggle to one of the cushions he was hugging.

—Wake up. I bet your date has already left.

—What date? —he mumbled against the fabric of her couch— She already left last night.

—What?

—What —his voice lost power towards the end of the word.

When she checked again, his eyelids were completely closed again and his lips parted as he went back to sleep.

A lot of violent thoughts went through her head when she heard him admitting he just stayed at her place after tricking her, and only because he wanted to annoy her. Every bit of sympathy she could have for him was erased as soon as he opened his mouth.

She looked at him after returning from the kitchen, seeing how peacefully he was sleeping, with his right hand strangely folded to his chest, and only able to rejoice at the thought of interrupting all of that. She prepared herself, placing the pan as close to his head as possible before she started to hit it with one of her spoons.

Jungkook felt his heart squeezing on his chest at the sudden sound, moving by instinct and falling out of the couch to find Y/n looking down at him with the cause of his heartache.

—You almost killed me —his body relaxed slowly—. There's no need to be so aggressive.

—Get out.

—Like that? You won't offer me a coffee or something?

His sentence was almost left unfinished when she whined at the way she forced him to stand up by pulling from the hairs near his sideburns. It was as clear as day she didn't need as much strength as long as she knew where to touch and hit to actually cause pain.

She only let go of that short lock of hair when he was completely standing up, ready to push him towards the main door.

—So you couldn't sleep in your place because your date was there, huh?

—Wait, wait —he stopped her from closing the door.

Y/n looked at him, hopeful that he'd apologize and recognize his mistake. But that was hoping too much from him.

—My shoes are inside.

A heavy huff left her lungs, along with her tracks turning back to the couch to pick up the white sneakers and throw them on the common landing.

No words, no actions. Nothing else was needed for her to close the door behind her and completely forget about him.

Jungkook waited by the door, with his head looking from one way to the other. He had been there since he overheard Y/n ordering some food in her kitchen. She should've known better than to offer his revenge on a silver platter, after he was waiting for the best chance to get back at her the same way.

The plan was simple. He stayed outside of the building, although still hidden so Y/n wouldn't catch him in case she looked over her balcony. He was going to intercept the delivery man by telling him he made a mistake at giving his address, and get the food to his place to get back at her for the awful night he went through.

The breeze felt chilly as he blew the smoke out of his mouth and moved the cigarette away from his lips again. He remembered how much he disliked the taste and smell of tobacco when he first started, and how the thought of going a day without the taste of it on his tongue seemed weird. It was almost like those constant encounters with Y/n, or the excitement in the possibility of repeating with her again, when before he even hated the idea.

He quickly shook his head at his own thoughts, convinced that he was probably going insane.

He was bored. She was close.

That was it.

Although maybe paying a quick visit to the tarot reader wasn't a bad idea. He had gone way too long without getting a quick check.

Before he could dig any deeper in his thoughts, a man with a motorbike helmet half put on walked to him. He seemed young, probably he wasn't even of age yet, something that probably would make it easier for him to trick him.

—Excuse me, are you going to 3A by any chance?

—Yeah, why?

Jungkook sighed, faking relief before he spoke again.

—My girlfriend gave the wrong number. By mistake she gave the apartment number of the crazy lady, who goes around with sharpened knives, instead of giving ours.

—Hmm, can you tell me the name of the person who ordered?

—Y/n Y/s —he confidently said, spending too much time memorizing her full name as he looked at her mailbox for those fifteen minutes—. We live in the 3B, but she said 3A. I guess it's normal after she's called so many times to the cops because that lady kept threatening to stab her.

—Yeah... No problem, dude.

The delivery boy took the plastic box out of the box he was carrying on his back, stretching his hand in front of him to indirectly ask for a tip.

—Cool. Have a nice night —Jungkook said, high-fiving his hand before he left back to his place.

He sneaked inside his place quickly and carefully, cautious of Y/n not catching him with her food. Once he reached the kitchen, and aware that that awful thick plastic was still stuck on her window, he felt free to add his touch to her food.

He added a soup spoon of gochujang to one of the boxes that contained her fried rice, stirring it until the paste was completely invisible to the perception of the eye. After looking around, he also added some gochugaru as well, stirring the whole thing again before he closed it.

Jungkook moved silently towards her door, leaving her bag at the doorstep and hurrying to ring on her doorbell and run back to his place before she could even react to the sound.

She frowned when she opened the door and found no one but the white plastic bag on the floor, although she just shrugged it off. She wasn't exactly in the mood for any human contact, so the delivery person definitely did her a favor by leaving her food there.

Her spirits slowly went higher, and the melodic hum coming from her throat only made it obvious.

—It smells so good —she moaned, when the smell of Chinese food reached her nostrils after opening one of the boxes.

Her body was comfortable on the couch, a TV show she started to be obsessed with was playing, and tasty food was waiting for her to eat it. It was the best way to say goodbye to an awful week.

—Hmm?

Her head tilted to the side with the first spoon, not able to recognize the taste of her fried rice. Although it wasn't until she was filling her mouth with the second spoon that spice finally hit her, and forced her to spit the food that was there in her mouth.

She swore she could feel her tongue melting and the insides of her mouth burning, as her lips started to itch. Her first instinct was to give a long sip of the cold milk in her fridge, but even with that she could still feel she'd breath out flames at any given moment.

The itchy feeling was quickly followed by a dry cough and a runny nose that made her expect the worst.

—Shit, not again —she whined.

Annoyed, she picked up her phone, calling at the restaurant she ordered the food from.

—I specifically asked for it to have no spice in it —a cough interrupted her loud yelling—. Can you take a simple order?

Jungkook, who had purposely opened his window to be able to hear her reaction, giggled at her hysterical rant, until she heard her giving the reason why to her complaint.

—I'm intolerant to spicy food, do you even understand what that means?

She moved nervously on the spot, scratching the arm holding the phone with her free hand as she hoped it wouldn't go to worse.

Her rants and annoyed complaints were only interrupted by the sound of her door bell, making her sigh before he chose to open it to whoever was bothering her at the worst time.

—You'll be hearing from me soon —she hung up the call.

Jungkook almost lost his balance when he saw her swollen red lips, and the pale pink rash on her forearm, that she kept scratching as she fought to breathe through her coughing.

—Let's go to the hospital.

—What?

—Let's go to the hospital —he insisted—. Pick up your shoes and go.

—Why?

—I heard your conversation. Let's go.

Jungkook stepped inside, picking up the pair of sneakers she always had at the left side of the door, and that he managed to find while he desperately looked around for something for her to wear. He dragged her outside of her apartment, and didn't even think of waiting for the elevator as he kept hearing her cough getting worse.

—It's not that serious.

Everything went back to normal after she struggled for a bit. At least, that was how it worked the other times she had a similar reaction.

—It's better if you don't wear a helmet —he mumbled, hopping on his motorbike—. Get on.

—I'm not going with you anywhere —she stepped back.

—I dislike you as much as you dislike me, but I don't want you to die if I can prevent it. So get your ass on the fucking motorbike.

She rolled her eyes at how extreme he was being. She certainly wasn't going to die because of that, but she also knew he'd be able to go on like that for a long while until she did what he asked her to do.

His pale skin as he worried for her, and his concerned look whenever he checked on her state every minute since he dragged her out of her house and while they waited at the hospital made her wonder if she had been way too harsh on him. She was regretting treating him so badly, and even putting those laxatives on the brownie to ruin his plans.

She was just projecting a lot of her negative thoughts onto him, and treated him unfairly since he arrived.

Her palm covered his knee, trying to calm him down and get his shaky moves to stop.

Jungkook was right when he told her to go to the hospital, and the doctor told them when he checked out her symptoms, making her feel relieved by Jungkook's insistence thirty minutes back.

—I'll pay for the hospital bill —he announced as he hopped on the motorbike.

—You don't have to —she mumbled, taking the seat at his back.

He just ignored her comment, starting the engine of the motorbike and making his way back to their place.

Her attitude was more receptive than he remembered, she even smiled at him when they were about to part ways to get to their respective places. Y/n stopped before she could even use her keys, turning to him to dedicate some words she didn't expect would ever be thrown in his direction.

—Thanks for today. I'm not sure what could've happened if it hadn't been for you —she sighed—. And that restaurant is going to get it.

—What do you mean?

—I specified I didn't want spice in my food, reasons are obvious. And they still put it on it.

—Y/n.

—What if you hadn't been here, huh? They're a danger for all of their clients. Imagine if it had been someone with a worse allergy.

—Y/n.

—You shouldn't be paying the hospital bill. They should. And they should be thankful if they have one single client after I write an article about...

—It was me.

Her rant suddenly stopped by his confession, frowning when she saw that guilty expression on his face. And it all clicked. It all made sense. How they didn't ring the first door bell, how they didn't even show up at her door to serve her the food, and how concerned and worried he looked on their way to the hospital...

—I got your food, and added spice to it. I didn't know you were intolerant.

Her nostrils widened, and her breathing became irregular the more she heard him speak. She was so close to losing her temper. And it wasn't like she cared anymore, she needed to get rid of him.

Jungkook quickly moved, stepping inside his apartment and closing the door behind him before Y/n could reach him, feeling the vibrations of her hits and kicks on his back.

—Jeon Jungkook, I'm going to kill you —she warned him, trying to open the door.

She was convinced Jungkook was the biggest of the curses in her life. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[moochi-daisies]

2015.01.

- 18+ Minors DNI

- Content Warnings: None for this chapter! Maybe a moment of tension/annoyance?

- In Summation: Two people fall in love which would make a much shorter story if they had better communication skills.

Length: 3.1k words

- Side Notes: hahaha i hit a wall in the third chapter of this part and have been avoiding tumblr all together out of Shame but maybe posting this will change that. hope you enjoy and thank you for reading :)

Find the rest here!

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     I didn't see Yoongi or any of the guy's for two years after I left.

     Yoongi had texted me midway through my bus trip home, asking that I send back his jacket so that he could be reminded of me whenever he smelled it. He didn't say anything about his scarf, so I kept it. Sleeping with it every night for three months after I returned.

     My mom had been fuming when I got back home, taking away my phone until the next semester of school started. Claiming I "wasn't responsible enough to be trusted" and that "phone's were an adult privilege I could have after reflecting on what it meant to be an adult".

     I don't think anybody truly knows what that means.

     It was about a month afterwards that school started up again. I went to classes, handed my paychecks over to my mom and snuck out with friends whenever one was able to come pick me up. My time spent at that magical house in late November came back to me in dreams, with life going back to the way it had always been, those few days with the guy's drifted into the background like a distant memory.

     I stayed in touch with most of them though, Jimin sent dance videos and asked for story updates. Hobi would ask about life and share clips of songs he was composing. Namjoon sent pictures of them all out doing things together, at parties, on hikes - things like that. I got selfies and stream of consciousness texts from Tae whenever he was at the convenience store, sometimes he'd throw in an art piece he was working on for feedback.

     Jin called me drunk a few times or whenever he was bored at the radio station. He didn't text much beyond cryptic one word messages or to share a new terrible joke he loved.

     At first, Yoongi and I texted the most. Venting to each other about our days until night came, at which point we'd video call for hours, until one of us fell asleep.

     At first, it was talking of missing each other, reminiscing on how it felt to be near one another, how the kisses were experienced from each point of view. We laughed over how nervous and clueless we both were about how the other felt the whole time.

     At first, we'd stay up until our eyes burned and the sun started to rise again. Asking all the questions we had for each other, learning everything there was for us to learn.

     From there, we started talking about art. Exchanging poetry and books we both loved, discussing the lines that stood out or meant the most to us. Yoongi made playlists of songs for me to listen to and would quiz me on them afterwards to make sure I listened. I started practicing how to write song lyrics, sending him some verses that I hoped would be up to his standards.

     He always said that he loved them.

     "I love how your mind works." he'd often tell me, "I wish I could get inside of it.".

     And I'd get flustered to the point that I could barely respond. A cheesy grin plastered across my face as I returned the compliments, blathering on about how his creative genius inspired me.

     It was around April, when he disappeared.

     Not all at once, but-

     The messages started getting shorter.

     We stopped the video calls.

     Telling him about my day got returned with "lol's" or "ok's".

     He never told me what was happening, and I asked many, many times.

     The abrupt change in his behavior snatched my heart from my chest and began to suffocate it.

     I couldn't go back to see him again or confront him face to face through the distance.

     On our last call to each other I asked him, trying not to plead, if anything was wrong.

     If he was mad at me in any way.

     "Is there something I should be mad about?" was the only response I got.

     We didn't speak again after that call, well, I did. I messaged adamently. Trying to throw out every possible thing I could think of. I even threw out things I knew would never be the case, hoping he would get so annoyed that he'd break and tell me whatever the fuck it was that had made him so mad.

     Ever the master of self-control, he never broke.

     Jungkook and I hadn't spoken at all after I left. I figured it was for the best, that we had had the talks we needed to have. That we agreed to not tell Yoongi and to just leave it at that. It was for the best after all, right?

     Telling Yoongi we had kissed would hurt him, and Jungkook and I were not going to be together.

     Telling him would be like throwing acid at him, just to tell him that it was old acid and not to worry about it anymore.

     Two weeks after Yoongi stopped talking to me entirely however, Jungkook started to text me.

     Like it was a completely normal thing to do, like there was no reason why he wouldn't.

     There was a knife that started to twist in my gut as the "what if" game: Emotionally Heartwrenching Edition, began.

     There were a few top contenders for being the most likely.

     Either;

     1.) Jungkook had told Yoongi about what happened, and Yoongi had gotten mad. (Understandably.)

     2.)  One of the guys had let it slip by accident and Yoongi had gotten mad. (Understandably.)

     3.) Lacey had seen Jungkook and I on the dance floor, and had taken her sweet time before telling Yoongi. Maybe waiting until the trust had started to build between us, so that the breaking of it would hurt that much more. (Absolutely not understandable.)

     Jungkook mentioned nothing about it, simply picking up where we had left off, being a devastatingly good sweet talker and annoyingly easy to have conversations with.

     We had been talking for about a week before I brought it up to him. My phone rang seconds after I sent the message. I was sitting in bed, legs criss-crossed and knuckles white from death gripping my blanket.

     He had no idea what had happened, he told me. All he knew was that Yoongi had started hanging out with Lacey again after a shift at the venue. And that when the guy's had asked him about me, he had shrugged them off without saying a word about it.

     He thought we drifted apart naturally, that it was a mutual thing. That it'd be okay to talk to me again since Yoongi and I weren't anymore.

     With that, Option 3 rose to the most likely scenario and I felt sick to my stomach.

     "Oh." was all I could say. And I hated how meek my voice sounded, not wanting to ask Jungkook of all people to find out more for me.

     Jungkook took it upon himself to offer. And I thanked him, my tone falling flat and listless.

     "I swear I didn't tell him what happened baby.", he sounded desperate as he spoke, " If I had known he just dipped on you I would've brought it up sooner. I'll go talk to the guy's, he's at work right now anyways. Hang on a sec, ok?"

I couldn't form words, a small "mhm" pushed out through tightly pressed lips was all I could manage.

After Jungkook hung up, I sat there in a daze. Different scenes of Lacey telling Yoongi at work one night were flashing through my mind. I cut the less realistic ones short, tossed aside the hyper-dramatized and rapid fire edited the imagined versions down to the most probable one.

The idea of anxiety being unrealistic felt laughable. I didn't want to be right. I wished Jungkook had given any other response besides the one he did. I could've accepted that Yoongi spontaneously decided he was sick of and hated me more easily. Because at least it wasn't confirmation of what I feared to be true.

I also didn't want to accept the fault I played into this happening in the first place. No matter what Lacey said, I did kiss Jungkook. A few times. And I did have feelings for Jungkook, they were different than my feelings for Yoongi, but there all the same.

It was easier to be angry at Lacey.

I didn't keep talking to Jungkook, I had chosen to pursue things with Yoongi and Jungkook and I had come to an understanding. Who the hell did she think she was to stir things up that had been laid to rest? Things were moving forward, things were-

Jimin's name and face lit up the screen, the buzzing of the phone call making me jump.

"Hello?" My hands were clumsy and disconnected as I worked to answer.

"Lovely! Oh my god, are you ok? Well- probably not. Ok, hang on-" Jimin's sweet voice was raised, an array of voices jumbling together in the background. "GUYS! I swear to fuckin' god, we can all talk to her. She only has one pair of ears. Here, lemme get you on speaker.".

"MY ANGEL WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOONGI?!" Tae's deep voice blared through the phone so loudly it vibrated in my hand a little.

"Oooh my god shut up, she doesn't know. Hi hi! It's Hobi! We miss you!" Hobi's voice sang through the phone, slightly louder than the rustling sounds of Tae being pushed away.

"Yo! You good? We're all out here on the couch, Tae hung what you painted in the living room. Looks nice!" Namjoon's mellow voice came next.

     Against my will, I felt a smile start tugging across my face.

"Soooo, we're still us. You miss this madness? Lemme trade with you." Jin said with a groan.

"Okay, so I got everyone!" I heard Jungkook pipe up from a distance.

"Hey guys," their comforting chaos made me chuckle, "Miss you all. No trades, wish you were all here with me." I felt myself relaxing as soon as I got the words out.

"Ok, so, here's the deal. I got the scoop." Jimin started.

Stretching out onto my stomach, I laid my head on my arm, using it to press the phone against my ear. "Bless you" I sighed, chewing on my cheek. "Lay it on me please, before I drive myself insane.".

"Well, uh, Lacey saw you and Jungkook dancing and decided to tell Yoongi about it. I don't know what she said exactly, but she went real heavy on the explicit nature of the dancing. Naughty. Anyways, she convinced Yoongi to get drinks with her that night and they've been hanging out ever since." Jimin paused, huffing out air into his phone so loudly that it tickled my ear.

"Uh, yeah so, she's working real hard to try and get together with him. She felt threatened by you apparently, and is pulling this whole "sweetheart" act-"

"THAT NONE OF US ARE BUYING!" Tae interjected, grabbing the phone from Jimin.

There was a pause before any of them spoke next, muffled sounds of fighting over the phone filling the air.

"Look man, you know we don't like Lacey for Yoongi, she's always fucked with his head and we don't see this going well. But like, you know, he's a grown man. We can't tell him what to do." Namjoon was working to sound casual, but sympathy was still clear in his tone.

I didn't say anything and stared at the wall.

"Well, that sucks." was all I could think to say at first. Laughing bitterly to myself, I rolled on my back and let out a grumble.

"I mean, I did dance with Jungkook. I'm pissed she decided to say something literally months after the fact, it just feels sketchy. But, he wouldn't tell me what to do. I'm not gonna try and tell him what to do either." I said it matter of factly. Like I wasn't internally screaming an obscene string of cuss words at Lacey, Yoongi and myself.

"Be pissed girl!" Hobi hollered, "It's not just sketchy to you. We all, well, almost all of us are pissed for you." his words sped up at the end, blurring together before the phone jostled again.

Jungkook's voice was quieter than normal, sweeter than I expected it to be.

"I'm pissed for you too. It's not like I was happy not talking to you but I don't ever wanna see you hurt. I'm pissed at Yoongi for hurting you like this." it felt like he was trying to hold my heart in his hands. Gently. Not wanting to squeeze too tight.

I thanked the guys and bugged them about visiting before hanging up.

There was a ringing in my ears that made everything feel weird underneath me. Like I could feel the Earth turning but I wasn't a concrete part of it.

Jungkook called me back privately, whispering that he had stepped outside and had wanted to check in on me.

The hurt I was feeling had turned into a little devil on my shoulder, poking at every way this was all my fault.

"Baby?" Jungkook's cute little pet name for me suddenly burned.

"Mhm."

"Do you not wanna talk to me anymore? Like, are you too sad about Yoongi?" the worry in his voice sent guilt hurdling into me.

"Of course I do, I'm sorry. This just, caught me off guard. I am sad, I think I'm too thrown off to feel it right now. I don't know, we did more than just dance together y'know." I brought it up scornfully without thinking, immediately fearful that it sounded abrasive.

The smile in Jungkook's voice was poorly disguised in his response, "So, you've been thinking about us kissing?".

The cute behavior was unfair. Any time I was upset, Jungkook had an infuriatingly charming response to get me smiling again.

I wanted to wallow, dammit.

But the thought of kissing him curled my toes and if I had been strong enough, I was sure my phone would've crumbled in my hand.

I mumbled out an embarrassed, "I don't know", making Jungkook snicker before saying he'd thought about it too. Abruptly hanging up as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

There didn't seem to be a way to make it right.

It wasn't like my feelings for Yoongi had gone anywhere. They were sitting along the bottom of my ribcage and slowly gnawing away at me.

Flipping through the consequences and complications of every situation I could imagine, I landed on two options that seemed the most ethical.

Option 1: Talk to Yoongi and apologize. Possibly stop talking to all of them if he couldn't forgive me.

Option 2: Leave Yoongi alone and possibly stop talking to all of them so that I wouldn't become a source of tension for the group.

I couldn't imagine being on bad terms with just one of them, or not talking to just one of them.

I could respect Yoongi's choice and also let him know I was sorry for not telling him. That I didn't think hurting him was okay. I don't know, maybe I wanted to give him an explanation so badly in hopes that he'd understand and forgive me.

More than that though, I wanted to say sorry because I was sorry. And it felt important to say, regardless of what happened afterwards.

Despite that train of thought, it took me a month and a half to work out what to say.

And another month after that to find the courage to send it.

He never responded.

     I didn't stop talking to the others like I thought I'd have to.

And I kept talking to Jungkook.

     Whenever I couldn't sleep, he'd set up his phone so I could watch him play video games until I drifted off. He'd call me at work and ask to be held in my pocket so he could hear how my day went (it was a bad line he'd gotten from Jin, but he wound up liking doing it).

He told me that he'd apologize to Yoongi for suggesting that we don't tell him. A light of appreciation for him glowed through the layers of pain.

     It was so easy with Jungkook.

     I couldn't say when he became a part of my daily life. It was like I woke up one day and couldn't remember how life had ever felt without him.

     My feelings for him were warm, like I was always about to drift to sleep in the sunshine. We grew incredibly protective over each other, both of us having to convince the other to not make impulsive trips when one was sad.

     Anytime either of us found something interesting, we would spend the next week or two both learning about it. Blowing phone's up with fun facts and side topics that we'd come across.

     We weren't just friends. There wasn't any denying that.

     But we never talked about what we were, there was simply an understanding. Natural, simple, that was how it always felt with him.

I didn't hear back from Yoongi for almost a year and a half.

It was midday, on a Tuesday.

I had just gotten out of my last class for the day.

Yoongi called me.

"Uh, hey." his voice sounded strange, excitement helping to keep something else pushed back.

"Hey, it's been so-"

"Hey it's me, do you remember me?" Lacey's voice giggled through the speaker and my spine went rigid.

I had to keep moving, taking loops around school buildings and letting myself get lost. I told Lacey I did remember her and she squealed before saying to Yoongi, "You see? I'm very memorable.". The sound of a kiss squelched into my ear and I gritted my teeth.

Why they hell were they calling me?

"So yeah, uh, anyways, we just found a place near you. Most of the guys will come with us, Jin has to sort out some work stuff before he can join though. So uh, we'll be there in early November. See you then?". He sounded uncertain.

I was turning a corner as he said it and misjudged the distance, smacking a shoulder into concrete.

"Did you just hit something?" the concern in his voice pissed me off.

I felt stubborn for no reason.

"No.", I scoffed, "But I'm excited to see you all again. Thanks for letting me know.". Coldness felt like a necessary strategy. Especially with Lacey on the phone with us.

I didn't feel cold though, I felt like disintegrating.

They were getting a place together.

They were moving here.

[aerkame]

So I forget in what post, but some time it was mentioned Wally wanted a family, so I have a few questions (And don't feel like you have to answer any or all of these!)

A. How would wally be as a father, or even a mate (is that the right word?)

B. Would he need to turn his mate into a finfolk or just leave them human and have a family like so

C. If they did stay human, how would it work, like would their kids be half finfolk?

Hope you have a delightfully most Morning/Night/Witching Hour :>

-<3

I don't mind answering questions on these!

A.) I would imagine that he'd be very involved in the kid's life. Wally would definitely be the kind to educate his kid(s) on just about everything and go out to learn new things (going to parks, museums, etc), sit down every night to read them a book, paint together, and maybe go on big trips with them. The inner teacher would come out really. He isn't too worried about them getting hurt either, he knows they can use what they were taught to do. Just imagine this cute lil' child being threatened or worse, kidnapped, and suddenly everyone involved gets smited from out of nowhere while the kid just casually leaves the area to go back to daycare or something. I'm sure they probably learned that from Wally or Barnaby, S/O would not be happy to find out their kid has been smiting puppets even if they're bad people. In other words, they're going to be like a mini Wally.

Now as a mate? I'd say he might be somewhat possessive (as in kill the next puppet that looks at you the wrong way) and a bit too focused on the family image. However, that's not very often. Most of the time Wally is just being very touchy and cuddly all day like he's afraid to lose his love. He often writes love letters even though you both live together, but he doesn't care, he melts into the floor just thinking about you. Sometimes he can't make a full sentence when he's feeling all mushy inside.

Now say that you're busy or for some reason you have to leave for the mainland for a little bit. Wally would probably get depressed and may end up just following you around as different people to make sure you're actually okay. Poor dude is like a lost puppy without you there.

B.) He probably would try to force his lover to turn into a finfolk. Whether it be through deception, convincing them to willingly do it, or just forcing it on them. However, if there is a reason that it's not needed, he'd allow it. But it would take a lot of convincing. Everyone on the island are finfolk for the reason that it's not just safer that way (finfolk aren't easy to kill or harm), but because it helps them identify intruders or threats more easily. It's like being in an exclusive group almost.

C.) If they did stay human (or just a normal puppet in this world since that's the equivalent) then the kid(s) would be half finfolk. They could end up being magically strong but not physically strong or just physically strong but have no magical abilities. Either way the child would still have benefits in some way.

[wakinguponsaturday]

Almost a year to the day after first asking @its-sixxers if I could print out and bind Half Light (after figuring out how one actually does that), I've finally finished it!!!

She's 825 pages long, has some of the early pages warped from glue, and blood (?) staining the text block, and I am so excited to fall in love with Nines and Mary all over again. Thanks for letting me do this, it's been a really rewarding project and I got a new hobby out of it!!!

Please go read Half Light and everything else Six has written, she is immensely talented. Mary is my favourite character in Bloodlines bar none and reading her story endeared me to VTMB when the game itself did not. Six's Fallout works are also masterpieces, and I haven't checked out her newer stuff with Elder Scrolls but I fully intend to because even if I've never touched a Skyrim game in my life, I know I'm going to adore it too!

More info about the process under the cut.

SeaLemon was an invaluable resource starting out here because I barely know how to sew and I had no idea how to approach the actual construction of a book. I'm gonna plug her right off the bat because she's very beginner-friendly if anyone else wants to learn.

But before all of that I had to format everything in Word! Chapter by chapter I copied the text over from the downloadable PDF from AO3 and would scan through the fic to ensure the formatting was correct (italicization, bolding, paragraph breaks, etc). I'd do this for about an hour at a time over the course of a couple months, until I decided to do the rest of it all at once after one March night at 10PM where I decided to learn how to bind it all, because fuck it, why not. (Answer: I was freaked out about my upcoming departmental talk and this seemed like a good distraction).

Printing all of it just on regular printer paper (don't know if I'd do that again in the future, but it's what I had on hand) it ended up being 52 signatures, or collections of 16 pages (4 pieces of paper) folded in half. Pierced holes in all of those using an awl and an old phonebook to hold the pages open, and then used my old embroidery thread to sew them together. This part took me maybe two days because I was just so damn pumped about it lmao. I also don't have any kind of bookpress to weight down the pages, so I had made due with old textbooks and MCAT prep material.

It stayed this way for LITERAL MONTHS as I gathered all the other supplies - chipboard and brushes from my local craft store, PVA glue online, and by far the hardest part was fabric. I've since learned that you can make your own fabric using book cloth and basically anything you want (if I had known this book would have been coated in red silk I swear) but for now I just wanted to be sure it was something designed for this purpose, as the woman at Fabric Land assured me it needed something specialized. So binder's buckram! Took a while to find something local and the color selection was pretty limited, I was hoping for a dark red or a dark blue but the green was the best they had in stock. Took even longer to get here. And by that point I had enough going on that it fell by the wayside until uh.... last week.

I glued the spine, again realizing that maybe I should've just made my own bookpress but powering through with textbooks to hold things in place, and let that sit for a couple days to fully dry. Ideally it would be flat, but beggars cannot be choosers. Gave her a lil ribbon too.

Not pictured because I forgot, the final text block with black construction paper glued to it to form the inside cover (would probably use something thicker/crisper in the future, something more like cardstock perhaps?). But then it came to putting the cover together! And that was just cutting chipboard to fit and gluing it correctly onto the fabric, leaving gaps around the spine.

Let that dry, and then I glued the text block in and let everything sit for just over 24h, again with makeshift weights to prevent the fabric warping (it's the second book from the bottom).

And then tada! Finished book! (This one's from before it was pressed but it looks the same now)

All in all extremely cool to hold in my hands and I look forward to the next fic that makes me this insane. If I get permission to do The Sun Is Now Fading I might take a crack at that and make a little set! Follow your dreams and one day you too will be able to take notes in the margins of your favourite Vampire the Masquerade fic.

[sankta-starkova]

LETTERMAN

021; five questions

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where ej and andy realise that there may be some romantic feelings between them that hadn't been there before, or had they? the new year test this revelation

wordcount: 1.5k

The next day, they all sat in the room as they waited for Miss Jenn to continue the workshop.

"Five questions to really know someone's character," Miss Jenn said as she walked into the room, seeing everyone sitting around.

She explained that they would be staying in character the whole time, and they'll answer the questions in character.

"Gaston, lets start with you," Miss Jenn suggested. He reached down and squeezed Andys hand before going to the front.

He stood in front of the crowd, rocking back and forth slightly on the balls of his feet as he waited for a question.

"Question one, if you had to pick one book to live inside, what would it be and why?" Miss Jenn asked.

EJ got into character, "Like a book of etiquette because Gaston could really use some manners, always spitting," he explained with a chuckle.

The crowd laughed and his eyes landed on hers, a smile growing on his face.

"Good one," Miss Jenn looked down at her paper for the next question, "What would you ask your future self?"

"Oh, trick question, Gastons dead," Ricky called out with a chuckle, nobody finding that funny.

EJ looked over at Andy with a sigh, "I'd ask him if he could learn to love anyone after Belle, I mean, anything possible right," he said.

He had been wondering that, whether after what happened with Nini if his relationship with Andy was real.

Every day he wondered if it was just a joke and he doubted whether he was good enough for her. He cared so much about her and was constantly worried that he would ruin it.

Andy knew he was talking about himself. Everyone clapped as he sat back down next to Andy, not looking at her.

"You okay?" She whispered in his ear and he nodded.

"I'm totally fine," She subtly kissed his cheek, lucky there was nobody at the front of the room and they were as far away from everyone as possible, before she pulled away.

"Mr Beast, want to give it a go," Miss Jenn said and she asked him the same question about the book as he stood at the front.

"As the Beast, it's canon that I can't read so," he said with an awkward chuckle.

Miss Jenn just shook her head, "Beast, I'd like you to take this seriously, next question. What would you ask your future self?" She asked.

There was some sort of weird tension between the two of them and she wondered whether it was from the date Miss Jenn went on with his dad last night.

He had called her about it when he was home alone. He told her how awful it made him feel and that was why he was acting up.

"If I ever miss the old days when I was alone in the castle, everything was rhe same every day and nothing changed." He explained.

Miss jenn picked up on the fact that he was talking about himself, asking that he delved deeper into this feeling

This caused an argument that the whole theatre group was forced to watch. Andy wanted to go up and comfort him, knowing how difficult of a subject it was for him.

"Can you watch your tone?" Miss Jenn asked harshly.

Ricky scoffed, "Okay mum," he said and she looked shocked, everyone going quiet.

Andy cringed at the reaction, "Lets take a ten," she said and Ricky stormed off, her following him out.

In an instant, Andy rushed out after him. She knew what was happening and knew that he needed someone.

She bumped into Miss Jenn on the way back, the two of them sharing an awkward smile before she found Ricky.

"Is this about your dad?" She asked, instantly breaking the silence.

He turned to look at her and laughed, "You've always been incredibly blunt," he said.

She walked over, a hand on his shoulder, "You wanna talk about it?"

There was a beat of silence. She didn't know what to say and he just stood there, trying to figure out what to say.

"Maybe later?" He suggested and she nodded, "Did it look like she was mothering me or was that just me?"

She shook her head, "I think she just cares about you," she explained, "The same way she cares about all of us,"

He shook his head, "No, it felt like she wanted to know more about my family dynamics,"

Andy wasn't completley sure about that but she could understand where he was coming from, especially in his situation.

"You gonna come back inside?" She asked.

Ricky took a step back, shaking his head. He wasn't in the mood to be around the person dating his dad right now.

"I understand," she said, pulling him in for a hug.

Ricky melted into the hug, he didn't get this physical affection that much and whenever he did, he enjoyed it.

"You call me tonight?" She requested.

He nodded, a smile on his face as he pulled away from the hug. He wanted to be as far away from this as he could.

When she got back, Ashlyn had been called on stage to perform something that expressed her character. So she performed 'Home', sounding beautiful throughout all of it.

EJ grabbed Andys hand, "You two okay," she nodded, smiling at her as they watched his cousins performance.

Ashlyn caught them holding hands, finishing her song with a smile as everyone else clapped.

She walked up to Gina, the two hugging as they resolved whatever tension was going on between them.

Rehearsals finally ended and EJ and Andy were talking as they stood in the corridor.

Ashlyn narrowed her eyes at them, she had noticed their flirty behaviour during rehearsals and knew something was up.

"Tell me whats going on, now," she demanded as she walked over to the two, crossing her arms across her chess to be intimidating.

"Well, we're deciding whether to go home and rehearse our lines or grab food first," Andy said, not understanding what she meant.

"No, and anyway, it would be food first," Ashlyn huffed as she looked between them, "I mean between you two,"

Andy and EJ looked at each other. Ashlyn must have figured out what was going on between them – she had told EJ not to be so obvious.

"Pfft, nothings going on between us," EJ said, a nervous flush on his face.

"Me and Eej are just very close friends who enjoy spending time together," Andy said.

"Aha!" Ashlyn explained, pointing at her, "You either just broke the pact or you're dating,

"What pact? I've never heard of any pact?" EJ tried to stall, realising that Andy slipped up.

"She called you Eej, a name she promised only to call you if you wer dating," Ashlyn remembered, realising that now they had confirmed they were basically dating.

She had always known about it and had watched the two throughout their youths make that pact so she knew it was suspicious

Even though Ashlyn had heard them call them by their nicknames before they were dating, she was ready to call it out.

"Shhhh," Andy said, pressing a finger to her lips, "You cannot tell anyone,"

"Why? You two would be the cutest couple," Ashlyn asked, not seeing the reason for them not admitting their relationship.

"We just want to figure out what we want before the whole school gets involved," EJ explained to his cousin.

"Okay, my lips are sealed," Ashlyn imitated zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

Andy smiled to herself. She looked up at EJ and knew that it was kind of obvious what was going on between them.

"How did you figure out that we were dating?" She asked.

She knew the answer to the question but at the same time wanted to see what they'd done wrong.

"Your clingy boyfriend here was holding your hand in rehearsal and though nobody else could see, I was at an angle that it was obvious," Ashlyn explained.

Andy hit EJ on the arm, "I told you it was too obvious," she reprimanded and he chuckled.

He looked down at her, the biggest smile on his face. He didn't want to have to hide the way he felt about her, ever.

"It doesn't matter, you two are the best, my bestie and my cousin," Ashlyn said, pulling the two into a hug.

"Ash, you're squeezing the life from me," Andy said as Ashlyn hugged the couple.

"Hey guys, what's going on here?" Gina asked as she walked over, seeing Ashlyn hugging the two to death.

"Nothing!" They all exclaimed suspiciously, shaking their heads.

Gina just chuckled, she looked at them suspense, "Okay, well Ash, your mum is here to pick us up, I thought I'd let you know," she said.

Ashlyn gave the couple a thumbs up before following Gina out to the car, leaving them alone.

When they got alone, she smacked him on the arm jokingly and he held his arm, smiling at her.

"This is why you can't be all cute and hold my hand in school," Andy said.

EJ pressed a kiss to her forehead, "But how can I when you're just so pretty," he said and she sighed, melting inside at the gesture.

Taglist:

@maggiecc @hesfasttandshesweird

[khalidplsstfu]

To Be Loved Is To Be Changed

It's kinda hard to belive that quote is attributed to a random twitter user. It's even harder to believe that it's true. Every couple of months, something happens to me that alters the way my brain works, maybe forever and i never really talk about it. The situation in this post is one of those situations.

A large percent of my 2023 was spent missing an ex- girlfriend. Very cliche, but also very painful. I questioned everything about the relationship, but mostly the part i played in it's disintegration. The ways in which i failed to be the lover and friend my ex needed was very heavy on my mind. which was weird because i literally never think about ways i failed. but that time spent reflecting on the days I spent being as unperturbed and unaware of my girlfriends feelings as a mostly homeless young man can be left me with me with something resembling an answer.

The reality was that like most men in my life, i put the emotions of those i care about on the back burner in favor of the results I wanted to see. Probably in an effort to protect my emotional self which had almost been beaten to numbness by a tramuatic childhood and young adult life. It's a practice i learned to use on myself, and then spread to other people as some type of barometer of how worth my time they are. Is it kind? Does it make everyone feel seen or heard? No. Did it save me from cold ravolii cans and nights using a bathroom handwarmer to stay warm? Yes.

This hardened dedication to my goals and absolute withdrawl from my emotional self without a doubt saved my life. It saved me from being a vagrant loser, another man who depends on the blessings of others to sustain his own life. But closing that door to how i felt had disatorious effects on my relationship, as i wasn't just closing the door to how I felt, but to FEELINGS in general.

"But that was then" I told myself. "Surely, with all the books i read, all the podcast and lectures and interviews with feminist rants i've consumed, i'm more ready to feel and be felt than ever. More ready to hear and be heard" At the time I was working at a shoe store where my closest thing to a work friend was a middle aged white woman who hated her husband and complained about him every chance she got. Which I gave her many, because learning from a old dude's mistakes is a big part of being a young dude. Anyway, the advice from my work buddy was very concise.

"contact her and let her know how you feel. It's the only way you'll know if she feels the same. and you'll regret it if you don't"

advice that good cant be ignored, especially if you kinda wanna do the thing you're seeking advice about anyway. so i did it. i wrote my greatest love letter ever. i was vunerable. caring. apologetic. everything i thought i was supposed to be. And surprisingly it worked. So well we hung out that night.

But something was diffrent this time. something that makes me feel that dark feeling in the pit of my stomach even as i write. The feeling that I was being mislead. being made a fool of. Too many quickly hidden phone screens and vauge answers. But like every other man, I was a fool. I said " I do not see" I was ready to bare the horror of trusting another human being with my emotions. If trust was a part of love, i was all in. After all, a life without love isnt much of a life at all.

Somehow, in my infinite stupidity, i decided to use some of my disposable income to celebrate her birthday. This was a decision so stupid i routinely beat myself up about it inside the safety of my mind. A decision so stupid the khalid that orginally met the girl in question simply would've never done it.

"Why would i spend money on a girl i barely trust" 19 year old khalid would say. And honestly that kid knew more than i'd give him credit for. But with our focus re-established, i decided to spend her birthday this year showing her how much she meant to me. I planned a day and fully funded it with the last decent check that shoestore would give me. I got two dinners and two tickets to the worst aquariam dallas has to offer and 7 grams of weed for us to smoke. All in preparation for what was a absoloutely horrible day.

Like most horrible days, this one started off relatively normal. I got high and dressed and mentally prepared to pay the debt i owe someone who i've loved for years. she showed up and was as beautiful as she always is and I started us on our way.

In all honesty the day remanined pretty good until we left the aquariam. At which point we lost the car so we couldn't return for a quick smoke after we ate. Frustrating, but instead of lumping my frustration on her i just tried to focus up and find the car. There was a very noticeable frustrated silence while we looked for the car but eventually we did find it. we smoked. and headed to applebees.

applebees. my home away from home. the home of the 4 dollar pint on friday night. in all honesty the perfect place to have your lifelong perspective altered forever, its almost like a fighting game stage in the way there's just limitless oppurtunity to see things you've never seen before. And that warm day in august, that's exactly what I saw.

In order for the events that happened that day, at that applebee's table to make sense to you dear reader, i have to provide context. Not to suck my own dick or anything, but im not a dude who just started getting pussy a week ago. I've been blessed enough to have a face that allows me to expirence the female form in a somewhat consistent way. Saying that to say, i know what it's like to be around good women. And shifty ones. And as me and my ex were having a beautiful day at that applebees table, I saw the shifty woman trademark. the ol "silence the phone and pretend they didn't see"

Now in the moment, i was salty. I felt a whole relationship's worth of mistrust and self consciousness flow through me. she kept trying to talk to me, and i tried my best to respond, but i felt like a dweeb the whole time. After all who was I in that moment? Paying for a date for a girl hiding her phone from you? Planning a day around someone not named Khalid or Khalid Jr? Putting myself in a position to see myself in these ways? what was i ?

I was changed. My first love made me a changed man.

To make a long story short, I've never been on a worse date in my life. I have to be honest and say that I found myself fighting back tears at more than one point. "You've gone soft. This would've never happened to you in 2020. Couple months alone and you lose your spine?" and more and more all played in my head as i sat in silence. At a table at one of my favorite establishments, with what i thought was the person that understood me the most, i felt completely alone. and that was enough to make me cry without being on drugs.

I don't remember how the rest of the day went exactly. I remember making a beeline for my home. saying my goodbyes. overwhelming dread. wanting privacy I couldn't have because i live in an apartment with one too many people. I remember her texting me, accosting me for my behavior. And i remember one sentence more vividly than anything she's ever said to me.

"You know, i don't really owe you anything" she says.

I was blown away. we'd spent days in love. nights looking out for each other. shared our dreams. our fears. the intricacies of our family relationships. young summers spent stealing time with each other. I felt I owed her so much. She took the time to try and see me in a way nobody else cared to. I spent so much time rationalizing her feelings. trying to empathize. and for what? did we owe each other anything? i didn't recognize the author of the messages i was reading. That was the moment that I realized that it didn't just happen to me. My love had changed her as well. I had given her the experience nesscary to guard her emotions and she had taught me to let my guard down. I don't know who made who worse. I'm scared to know in all honesty.

The story ends with me thanking her for the oppurtunity to "get her out of my system" and going about my way. I think about her often. My first love. I wish I could go back to 2019 and tell myself to make sure to enjoy every moment of her i'd have before it turns into dust. Nowadays every girl is like the new verision of my ex i met last year. Now I wonder did love make them that way as well, and if any of us can ever be saved.

[palialaina]

Hassian enforced bedrest lasts only so long as Hassian can keep Tau out of trouble.

This should not amuse me as much as it does.

Being fair, it last long enough to be troublesome, but with rotational fussing people, Reth couldn't exactly slip me anything. (I asked him, and he said he wanted to try, but Ahura was apparently eyeing him a little too much. Darn it dad!)

So, first off, Tau apparently decided he was bored with staying inside, and went wandering again, causing mischief on his own. This let me get up, since Hassian was too busy trying to track down the plumehound.

Honestly, I was fine days ago. Bruises are not life-threatening.

Tau apparently decided to be a ridiculous pup and steal Eshe's daily paper, so before I could go back to my flowstone hunting (Zeki swore it was in there, I just wasn't looking hard enough.) I had to figure out what he was doing.

I still have no idea, but at least I got Eshe some of her papers back? This dog is a goofball, that's for sure...

And then, since that mystery was solved, I went and scoured the mines again and finally found the missing flowstone. Brought the whole thing to Zeki who fixed up the battery, and then I went to show it to Sifuu.

Sifuu promptly decided I wasn't allowed to carry it to the door in the Flooded Fortress. Said it was 'explosive' and she didn't want Hassians' girl to get hurt.

If they all start treating me like I'm pitiful and helpless again, I am going to have words. I might be a bit accident prone, but I am not that pitiful. Jeez!

Anyways, since I couldn't talk her out of it, I had to let her come with me to the Temple of Flame. Apparently the Temple had pictures of a story about a kitsuu, which I'd never seen before. It was also really damn hot, and full of fire-related puzzles.

Tau, the butt, ran in ahead of all of us the moment we got the door open, so we had to solve all the puzzles to get the doors to open, and figure out where the furball had gone.

Turns out, the furball found another furball! It wasn't easy getting over there, considering the open lava and everything... and also Hassian telling me there were ways that didn't involve trying to glide over said open lava.

Being fair, I wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea either. We sort of compromised, and jumped together. The kitsuu seemed kinda amused by that, I think? I couldn't tell, once we landed and Hassian was hugging Tau, it poofed away like the Proudhorn does.

I poked at the puzzle until I figured it out; I remembered that from the Temple of Waves. Woke up a corresponding constellation in Night Sky Temple too... So now I have another list of things to find, which isn't so bad.

What did past humans use in their lights to keep them lit, even broken like that?

Admittedly, I don't think I'll go back to that temple. It was much too hot. But It makes me curious. With all the notes and things I found, it seems like this place was some sort of flow refinery? So the Temple of Waves was a shelter, this place was some sort of refinery... And there's still two constellations to go...

Also, I finally learned what happened with Caleri and the potion she gave to Elouisa. Which she apparently explained, in detail.

Like I thought, it didn't actually do much. Truth is a painfully subjective thing, no matter how much we want to pretend it's not. But Elouisa did ask me to help her get some stuff together for journals like they used to have as kids.

Honestly, Caleri really liked it, but I feel like she maybe misinterpreted it? Still, I like know that she's not as stern as she makes out to be. Sort of like how Eshe isn't actually all that bad, she's just never been allowed to live her life.

Also, I don't like Caleri and Elouisa's dad. There were probably definitely better ways to act.

I did get this really pretty thing from Caleri for the journal though. I love it. I have no idea what it says, but it's pretty and I love it. Now if only she'd let me take some books home to read...

[lightvsdark18]

Some responses to voicelines (Ortho)

Thanks for always looking out for me. I'll keep working hard to stay useful.

And thank you for staying by my side.

Archetype Gear

Who needs magic when you've got me?

Heck yeah.

If you're not gonna study, wanna play with me?

Sure, what game should we play?

Ghosts and I don't really click. I mean, where do they get off mocking me when they don't even have corporeal bodies?

The ghosts in Ramshackle aren't mean to you, right?

My databanks have a baseline of 100,000 books stored inside. Want me to read one aloud for you?

Maybe later.

Athletic Gear

I'm gonna sprint as hard as I can and see how fast I can go!

Probably very.

Vital sign alert: your breathing is ragged. Did you come running to see me?

Yeah... Also I was getting chased by Floyd.

I'm about to play tag with a drone my brother built! Wanna watch?

Sure...?

Frequent mandatory oral energy intake sounds like a pain. Ever consider switching to a rechargeable model?

What?

Precision Gear

Scan complete. ...Yup, you've got a clean bill of health today!

(Bit confused) Good to know.

I can easily handle the kind of work that's too delicate for human hands.

Can you help me with this?

I wonder if Grim will let me scan his body today.

Probably not, but you could secretly do it.

Burst Gear

When everybody's attending ceremonies, the classrooms are all empty, making it prime time for pranking.

What type of pranks?

My brother designs all of my bodies, and I'm super proud of every one of them.

Your brother is really talented.

Ack! Don't touch the heat exhaust port! You'll burn yourself.

Oops, sorry.

If another ceremony comes up, could you drag my brother here, even if he's kicking and screaming? I'd probably cave in and relent...

I'll try my best.

Stargazer Gear

I wonder what everybody wished for. Did you wish to go back to your home world?

I gave my wish to Grim.

From what I've learned, star alignment used to be super important in the olden days. I guess now it's just considered part of astrology?

I guess so.

I got Idia to decorate my gear with loads of stars! Doesn't it look like the Starsending Robes?

Yes, and it's very pretty.

I bet I could fly you all the away up to the stars! Come with me! Oh, wait... Your body's organic. That'd be super dangerous.

You could fly me up close enough that I wouldn't get hurt.

Ignihyde Gear

My AI personality "Ortho" is Idia Shroud's "brother." We're very close siblings.

I have an older brother too.

No matter how hard I search, I still can't find any data on you. That's a first for me.

[Actually, since Princess exists Ortho would find information on Alice, in a way.]

Halloween Gear

Boo! Quake with fear, Pumpkin Knight is here! ...Huh? You don't seem scared. Can I try again?

I don't know, can you?

I am Pumpkin Knight, he who forever wanders in darkness. Who wants to join my ranks?

Me.

There's a lot we can't explain about what comprises a ghost. Doesn't that make you want to capture one and analyze it?

I wouldn't say capture one, but I am curious.

[theghostpinesmusic]

Seeing as how I haven't done a music-related write-up for a bit and how it's currently 4:30pm and therefore too late in the day to start on another work-related project of actual substance...I'm going to tell you about this version of "Bathtub Gin" that I like!

As I said (threatened?) in my last Goose post, I'm consciously branching out a little between now and whenever the hell the next Goose show will be. In my own personal listening, "branching out" means I've been listening to a lot of stuff I've never heard before, both stuff that's totally new to me and stuff that's been sitting ignored on my "Try this!" list for a long time. In my blog writing, "branching out" apparently means "writing about the band I've listened to the most by an entire order of magnitude for the last twenty-five years."

Hey, if I can't be perfect I'm sure as hell going to stop trying.

I am not going to start this post with a primer on Phish because a) if you're reading this you either already know them or you don't know them and don't care, and b) there are literal books about this out there because these guys have been playing for forty years and every little thing they do is steeped in weird mythology and inside jokes and as much as I love all of it, I don't love it enough to write a hundred thousand words about it.

If you're somehow entirely new to the band and also feel an obsessive need to learn/dive in, my super idiosyncratic recommendation is to listen to their album A Live One a few times, and then buy and read through this very short book by Walter Holland, who in my humble opinion is sort of like the Hunter S. Thompson of writing about Phish jams.

I will henceforth only be writing in the micro- and macro-cosms about this particular version of Phish's "Bathtub Gin" and my reactions to it, despite not being the Hunter S. Thompson of writing about Phish jams.

Biologically speaking, I almost certainly, technically have THC in my bloodstream right now if that somehow makes you feel better.

So, Phish was one of the first places I turned at the beginning of this little Goose hiatus. For a lot of reasons, despite being the band that most immediately jumps to my mind when the phrase "favorite ever" is used in a variety of contexts, I haven't listened to Phish much over the last few years. I wrote a little bit about why in this previous post, and to keep my promise of staying focused and save myself some time typing, I won't say any more for the moment: suffice to say that I overdid it a little bit with The Phish and The Phish's Internet Fandom, which soured me on the band's music and left me sitting on the sidelines for years, wondering if it was the band that had come, over time, to suck ass, or whether it was just me.

Well, I'm relieved to report that it was, in fact, me who was doing the ass-sucking.

I learned this, in large part, by diving into the band's recent New Year's Eve (NYE) run at Madison Square Garden (MSG). I actually started my Goose Interregnum concert-viewing here only because the run had just ended and I'd seen online that the band had played all the way through its storied, elusive, and utterly dorky "Gamehendge" saga on 12/31, for the first time since 1994 (or maybe 1995, kill me in the comments Phish fans, I'm ready to die).

I wanted to see this, even if after the fact and from my couch, because back in my early Phish fan-Hood (see what I did there?) Gamehendge had been a big part of what drew me to the band, and I was excited by the prospect of being a grown-ass, middle-aged man bawling his eyes out on his basement couch because in a video another old man was on a stage singing a song about a bulldog and a cat fighting to the death while a comet crashed into Earth, bringing about the end times.

When you're a straight, white kid growing up in suburbia, you either become an absolute monster or your brain finds really fucking weird things to care a lot about. I like to think I fit into the second category.

Anyway, with a more-than-usual amount of spare time on my hands, I decided to try watching the entire MSG NYE run, starting with 12/28 instead of jumping straight to 12/31. I thought, maybe, I'd have a decently fun time and get a good sense of where Phish was at musically (an important thing to know when all the band members are sixty-ish years in age and you haven't heard or seen them play since 2021). Then I watched 12/28 and it destroyed me. Like, this band of aging dork-rockers literally lit the entire arena on fire with their instruments and it burned down around them while they just kept jamming. I'm not sure how anyone escaped MSG alive, let alone how there were concerts there for the next three nights.

12/29 was just as good, if not better, and 12/30 was an incredible show that only paled in comparison to the previous two. My reaction surprised me, and so that's why I cranked up the ol' typing machine, shoveled some fresh coal into the boiler, and sat down to write about...wait, what was I actually writing about, again?

Oh, yeah. "Bathtub Gin."

I'm not gonna give you a lengthy history of this song, for all the same reasons I cited above for not giving you a long history of Phish as a band. I will tell you it's a "classic" Phish song in that it was played live for the first time in 1989 and has been played three hundred and four more times in the one thousand, seven-hundred and fifty-one shows the band has played since. There also a studio recording of it on Lawn Boy, which I always forget because who the fuck listens to Lawn Boy?! The song is used frequently, but not always, as a jam vehicle, and I tend to enjoy hearing it live due to its quintessentially Phish-y sound: Phish writes and plays songs that sound a lot like many of their influences, but they also have songs that sound only like Phish, and this is one of them. Well, it sounds like Phish and Gerswhin, I suppose. "Bathtub Gin" is also my wife's favorite Phish song, but I'm not entirely sure if that's because she likes it or because she knows that liking "Waste" or "Shade" or "Farmhouse" more would put her firmly in the "Stereotypical Phish Wife" realm.

This 12/28 version of the tune is a great one for jamming, but as usual I'll (mostly) refrain from commenting until the point in the video where the composed portion of the song leaves off and the improvisation begins.

I do want to start by saying I love the retro feel of this year's "Live Phish" intro/logo sequence. Also, yes, Page's opening keyboard banging is supposed to sound like that. It's how he lets you know he's having fun! Gershwin tease at 2:26 if you're keeping track. Otherwise, this is a pretty straightforward reading of the composed part of the song. I absolutely love the sound mix here, as you can hear all four members' contributions to the song more or less equally. It blows the old days of tapes essentially mixed to make Trey's guitar 80% of the band's sound out of the water. It also leads to me basically just listening to Mike Gordon play bass for the entire show because if you can, why wouldn't you?!

It often sounds like the band might be singing actual, English lyrics during the outro portion of the song, but I don't think they ever are.

The jam starts at 4:50, and basically immediately Fishman is playing stuff on the drums that my simple brain can barely comprehend. This is perhaps one significant difference between Phish and the Goose jams I've been covering previously: the rhythm section of Phish is much more directly involved in the direction of the band's improvisation, whereas it often feels like the drums and bass of Goose are just laying a foundation for the melody players to improvise over. One is not inherently better than the other, but I do often feel like there's a lot more to listen to with Phish, despite them having fewer members.

Anyway, this first chunk of the jam feels a lot to me like being lost in a fuzzy, pleasant labyrinth: the tempo is slow and the playing is soft, but there's an undercurrent of tension there. By 5:30, things have started to straighten out a little, though the lights have gotten absolutely weird. Fishman starts playing a more straightforward beat, and the rest of the band falls into a rock-sounding jam that makes me think of what Goose might sound like if their fingers were thirty years older.

Trey starts to sit back a little bit at 6:45, and the jam mellows out in response. It feels a little bit like he can't figure out where he wants to go next here, but Mike and Page take some turns adding ideas to the mix in the meantime. Eventually, Trey joins back in the fun, but still in a restrained way. For awhile here, everyone's just sort of playing together, with no particular standout or soloist, which is great.

Whatever keyboard tone Page switches to at 8:58 is fantastic. He follows it up pretty quickly with some weirder synthesizer stuff, and at 9:40 this pushes the jam in a more sinister direction. At 10:20, Trey switches over to a very Portal To Robot Hell guitar effect, and now we're in full-on latter-day Evil Phish jamming territory. Fishman is, of course, keeping a beat here, but it's odd and off-kilter (not a drummer, sorry to be imprecise) and makes the whole thing feel like it's just barely hanging together in the best way.

This kind of "almost-falling-apart" sound is, paradoxically, when Phish often hits their stride in jamming. I think it's what makes them sort of a love/hate proposition even among people who listen to a lot of improvisatory rock music. It's not particularly fun or comfortable, but I've never come across another group of musicians that can improvise with each other consistently in this way.

Trey's playing finally comes a bit to the fore starting at 13:00, but even here this doesn't feel like a rote jam "peak": instead, the backbeat that Fishman is playing keeps things feeling a little out of sorts and not entirely resolved. Trey and Page playing off of each other at 14:15 is nice. I'm not sure what's going on with the lights at 14:30, but I do know these guys consistently have my favorite light show in show business. There's some almost Allman Bros-sounding playing from Trey at 15:15 as we reaching peak craziness...

...then some initial teasing of the "Bathtub Gin" theme at 16:30 or so, teasing a return to the song proper to wrap things up!

The video fades out on a segue into what would turn out to be an excellent version of "Ghost," for those keeping score at home.

Anyway, thanks for reading my first (at least lately) Phish write-up. I'm going to try to do a few more of these from the run, including (I think) two new songs: "Oblivion" from 12/29 and "Life Saving Gun" from 12/30. Should have those up soon!

[roonilwazlibimagines]

Okay so I’ve moved on from regulus to Teddy Lupin and I have this whole AU where andromeda was the surrogate for Sirius and Remus and he grew up with Harry and I was wondering if you could write some Teddy Lupin headcanons like the “dating would include” ones? -⛈

I hadn't had a lot of thoughts about Teddy Lupin until tumblr, but I'm thinking once I answer this he will become my new obsession. Personally, I see him as the soft kitten boyfriend everyone wants Remus to be but I don't see Remus like that, but I would love to hear everyone else's opinions because I haven't heard a lot about him. Anyways, here we go

I also haven't done one of these for a while so here is a link with all of the ones I've done

1. Reading - he is the soft kitten boyfriend everyone wants, of course he is a reader. He will read all of your favourite books and annotate them with his thoughts and he expects you to read it and reply to his annotations so he can go back and read your thoughts so you can properly discuss the book. Always recommending you books as well and telling you about scenes he read that reminded him of you. Also big fan of reading aloud to the other, he doesn't really have a preference, he enjoys reading to you and he enjoys when you read to him - although he is sappy and tells you that when you read to him he can't focus on the book because you're too pretty :')

2. Cardigans - I will say it again, soft kitten boyfriend. He wears cardigans all the time and you steal the and at first he has no clue where all his cardigans are going but then he sees you wearing one and he is like oh. Oh. Because you just look so adorable in them and he always comes over and wraps it tighter around your body and he will hold your hands inside the sleeves so you stay warm.

3. Knitting - idc he learns to knit so he can knit you a cardigan. He knits his initials on the sleeve as well and when he gives it to you you're very emotional because it's such a thoughtful gift. But it kinda backfired on him because now you only wear that cardigan and not his and he liked when you wore his cardigans :/

4. Gift giving - on the same wavelength as this, he is a really good gift giver. Like they're always really just a show of how much he loves you. I don't know if I'd say this is his love language, I think it is more acts of service but I feel like it goes hand in hand with this if that makes sense. Like he doesn't buy you a lot of gifts, but they're all very sentimental and it always makes you teary.

5. Movie nights - I can't explain it but he loves having movie nights with you and having cuddly blankets thrown on the lounge and you're cuddling into his side and he has his arm around you and he makes the best popcorn and always lets you eat most of it. He also almost always lets you pick the movie unless there is something he really wants to watch. The next day he always asks what you're rating of the movie was and that always starts a conversation about you both (or maybe just him) analysing the movie

6. Cooking - I think he can follow a recipe, BUT, he is really good at baking. He knows almost every recipe by heart and he always knows what ingredient you need more of and what flavours go well together. He is constantly baking for you and putting them in pretty boxes and writing little cute notes for you that he attaches to them.

7. Self care - he loves doing all of your self care routine with you or just having self care nights where you can put face masks on and paint each other's nails. I also feel like he constantly asks you to put makeup on him or he tries to learn it and then uses you as a test. And the whole time you're both just giggling and you're both telling the other to stop giggling because otherwise it won't turn out nice, but it always ends up with lots of kisses.

8. Pictures - constantly taking pictures of you. I think he has one of those old cameras where you have to get the pictures developed because he's just cool like that. But he likes taking them of you when you don't see him and you always turn and frown at him because you weren't smiling but he promises it was a good photo and they always are. He is definitely your personal photographer and he loves it.

9. Playlists - definitely makes playlists for you and has them for every single occasion. Late night drives, getting ready together, midday picnics, when you're running errands etc. etc. and he mainly puts in music he knows you like but also music that he thinks you'll like and a little bit of music he likes as well. And of course he makes a sappy one full of love songs just for you <33

10. Listens - I just know he is a good listener and he makes this one face when he is listening to you and really thinking about what you're saying where he cocks his head to the side and his eyebrows furrow and he kinda pulls his lip back. Also the type of person to remember something you send 2 years ago about something you liked and then find it and bring it to you and you're just amazed that he even remembered :')

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 7

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6

Summary: in which Cassandra gets bullied and other sappy shenanigans

---

"Oh Nicole dear, so happy to see you again!" Duke's voice was cheerful as ever, tone masterfully crafted over years of being a businessman.

Nicole, taking small steps inside the ornate and now full of items room, greeted him with uncharacteristic giddiness.

"Duke! How's business?"

"Same as always, I'll be heading to Beneviento later tonight to deliver some tools for her," he took a long drag of his cigar and, noticing green eyes scanning over multiple items and said, "I also have your order."

With a childish grin on her face, she approached him, hands shuffling inside the small bag attached to her belt that all staff members had. She pulled out the money owed for her package and, in return, the Duke placed a decently sized box in her arms. With an oof she shifted it in a less precarious position, it's heavy contents seeming to plot against her small frame.

"Unfortunately I can't stay, duty calls. But thank you Duke."

"No worries, I do understand that your employers can be quite," he took another drag of his cigar, looking for the right word. "...demanding"

Nicole chuckled. That was one way to put it.

"Well until next time dear. Or if you find yourself in need of something else, I'll be here until six."

---

She was only wearing a long white towel when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was another maid, or even Anita inquiring about whether or not she'd be joining the rest of them for dinner, she opened the door just a crack.

It was a surprise to see none other than Cassandra standing there, her elegant frame in odd contrast with the modest corridor. She flung the door open, letting the brunette inside and took a quick glance down the hall, making sure no maid was on the floor after fainting due to fright.

"What are you doing here?"

"Aw, are you not happy to see me?" She was pouting, but her tone was joking.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed that she was indeed happy to see her. Cassandra only laughed instead, a beautiful melodious laugh, so unlike the dark cackles heard by prisoners down in the dungeons.

"Just sit down, I need to get dressed," Nicole pointed to the bed before moving to the small dresser and pulling out a clean uniform.

Cassandra went to sit on the slightly disheveled bed, eyes following the redhead's form as she let the towel drop to her feet and started to put on the various layers of her uniform. Then golden eyes darted to the box sitting on the bed. The tape sealing it had been cut not long after Nicole brought it back to her room to make sure all its contents made it safely. Not that she didn't trust the Duke, but postal service was postal service.

"What's this?" Cassandra inquired, trying to read the label but having no success as it had been scribbled over with a marker.

Nicole stilled for a moment, hands frozen on her white button up. She cleared her throat and shyly admitted:

"Actually that's for you. Do open it if you want."

Cassandra's eyes widened, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. The gesture had really caught her off guard. She gingerly lifted the lid, inspecting it's contents for a moment and then hummed.

"And here I was thinking you like my hair. With how much you love to pull on it and all that."

Nicole, now fully clothed and sporting a deep blush, marched to her and plucked the two boxes of red hair dye from gloved hands. She placed them on her nightstand and, with her voice just slightly more high pitched, she turned to the brunette.

"Those are mine, I meant the rest of it." And, after a chuckle, "I mean have you seen my roots? They're horrible!"

Cassandra only gave her a deadpan look and, after a long moment, said: "I think your hair is beautiful."

She didn't wait for a reply, not that it would be anything more than a stammered mumble of course. Instead she chuckled and returned her attention to the box. She examined the rest of its contents and then gingerly lifted one of the few tomes inside. The cover was glossy and malleable, it's pages shiny and with a distinct typography smell to it. It was so unlike her other books, it's pristine white state making it feel extremely out of place in the castle. She glanced at Nicole inquisitively.

"I do appreciate the gift, don't misunderstand me, but surely you know there's a small bookshop's worth of medical books in this castle."

"With all due respect, from what I've seen most of them are at least somewhat outdated. Interesting, yes, but I thought you'd like to learn something more...modern." Then she pulled out another book. "This is the same one I used while studying forensic pathology. It would make teaching you some things easier. Uh… assuming you want that."

Nicole averted her gaze, suddenly unsure of the usefulness of her gift. Cassandra however grabbed her chin between two fingers and pulled her gaze back on her. She smiled, finding the shy demeanor beyond endearing.

"I'd love that."

A small smile appeared on thin lips and Nicole leaned in to kiss Cassandra. It was soft and short, but no less intimate than the deep kisses they shared so many times in Cassandra's bed.

They had to go anyway.

---

Let's go to the library, Cassandra said. It'll be empty, she said.

When Cassandra swung open the intricate door, only to find the other two sisters lounging on one of the couches, it's not like they could do a one eighty and leave the room. That would've been both impolite and highly suspicious.

Instead, Cassandra grabbed her arm protectively and led them to the reading spot farthest from the other two. They placed one of the textbooks on the small desk and Cassandra took out a notebook. This would've been a lot more fruitful with an actual body on hand, but there were still a couple days until the human flesh supply had to be replenished and Cassandra was beyond eager to start on some things. So, for now, they had to settle for theory alone.

It took all of five minutes for the other two sisters to make their way to their desk. Daniela had a giddy yet curious expression on her face, while Bela seemed as unreadable as ever, if not for a glint in her eyes that betrayed her interest.

"Whatcha dooooing?" Came Daniela's voice, who cocked her head not unlike a curious puppy would while looking at the book's contents.

"Working," Cassandra replied, a slight growl accompanying her words.

"Could've fooled me," Bela spoke from behind the youngest sister, eyeing the hand protectively placed on Nicole's waist.

Cassandra snapped her eyes at the blonde, looking ready to throw her notebook at her head but Bela ignored her sister's ire and addressed Nicole instead.

"What are you studying?"

"I uh- just some basic anatomy concepts. Thought it would be a good idea to start with the things that the older books in the castle don't cover."

Bela only hummed, grabbed an ornate chair nearby, and plopped herself at the desk, opposite from the pair. Daniela mimicked her sister, but instead chose to sit down right by Nicole on the small couch. It took more willpower than she would admit not to glue herself to Cassandra's side when Daniela's face came uncomfortably close so she could look over the book's diagrams. She stood still as a statue though. After a couple seconds of silence and Nicole trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, Daniela drew her head back, looking at her with what was possibly the most serious expression she had seen on the youngest sister.

"You do realize we're not going to hurt you right? How could we lay a finger on our dear sister's lover hmm?"

Nicole's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was due to the word used to describe her or how Daniela apparently knew that she was utterly terrified of her. Cassandra sighed beside her and, seeming to at least partially read Nicole's thoughts, clarified:

"Your heartbeat."

Oh. Yeah. Yeah her heart was beating a million miles an hour. And apparently the other three vampiric occupants of the room were able to hear it loud and clear. It did very little to ease her mind.

"Please do calm down, it feels like someone is having drumming lessons. Bad ones," Bela complained, head resting in one of her hands like she was already bored.

"Then shove a sock in your ears," Cassandra snapped.

Bela simply leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms above her head. "And risk not hearing my beloved sisters sing along to some pop song?"

Cassandra shut her mouth, a blush now slowly spreading across her cheeks while Daniela burst out into laughter. Even Nicole couldn't help betraying the brunette and letting out a giggle.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"Au contraire dear Cassie! Should I remind you of the last time Dragostea din tei came on the radio? The pathos!" Daniela reached over Nicole's lap to lightly shake her sister's knee through her giggles.

Cassandra only let out a long groan, face now hidden in her palms. "I hate you both."

"Mhm, we love you too," came Bela's reply, accompanied by a chuckle.

Nicole couldn't keep a small laugh while she snaked her arm behind the brunette to show some form of support against the merciless assailants. Maybe not a complete betrayal.

The scene really had something deep within her heart aching beautifully. It reminded her of the countless times she and Alex would mercilessly tease each other, but still have each other's backs through thick and thin. And for this familiarity to come from people that any sane person would consider bloodthirsty monsters? Hell, maybe they should start considering her a monster too, for the only word she could use to describe them in that moment was endearing.

"So," Bela lightly clapped her gloved hands. "Now that your pulse isn't giving me a headache anymore, what are we doing?"

She had a confident smirk on her face, but her eyes betrayed curiosity. Same for Daniela and, although mixed with a hint of annoyance, Cassandra. She opened the book in front of her, one of general human anatomy, and decided that the digestive system would be a good enough starting point.

---

Their little impromptu lesson didn't last more than two hours. Two hours that proved to Nicole just how oddly human all three sisters can be. Of course she had gotten familiar with Cassandra, intimately so, but the other two still felt like two looming monsters hiding in the shadows. At least up until now.

Bela seemed oddly intrigued by Nicole's explanation, although unlike Cassandra, she seemed to view it more like a story than anything. Daniela seemed slightly more interested, asking questions here and there and even starting to giggle like a middle schooler when they got to the rectum section. That got an eye roll from the other two. Nicole just laughed, finally understanding Mrs Hawkins, her private biology teacher from before she was allowed to step foot in any public school.

After they were done, Bela simply stood up and bid them good night. Danila instead excitedly proposed the skeletal system for next time and picked up the books she abandoned earlier. Then, with a small tower of tomes she went through a door tucked at the very back of the room. Her study, Cassandra had pointed out as they made their way out of the library.

"I didn't know your sisters were interested in medicine too." Nicole kept her voice low, almost as if talking too loudly would disturb the shadowy hallways.

"More or less. Daniela likes it and has a bit of hands-on practice but she has her nose in romance novels more often than not. Bela finds it interesting but botany is what she really loves. That and classic lit." She added the last part with a grimace and Nicole had to wonder which author had offended her personally.

Before she could continue that train of thought though, her gaze moved to the windows, the cloudless sky beyond thick glass panels full of twinkling stars. Her mind kept going back to a few hours earlier and at what Daniela had said. Lover. Did Cassandra truly see her as one or was the youngest sister just being her over the top self. Did she see Cassandra this way? Nicole had not allowed herself to dwell on that up until now, the idea that the brunette saw her as more than an over glorified lab partner with whom she occasionally scratched an itch seemed almost laughable. But the small gestures of affection shown in ways Cassandra seemed to know best were undeniably there. And the familiar flutter in her chest at each of said gestures was also undeniably there.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice, accompanied by the slight echo through the empty hallway, snapped Nicole out of her thoughts.

"Oh um- nothing." She sounded as convincing as someone trying to sell you a fork while showing you a spoon.

And Cassandra didn't seem to buy it. She moved in front of the redhead, walking backwards with no concern over possible furniture to collide into along the way.

"You always get this… face when something's bothering you."

"I do not-" the indignation in her tone was weak, little more than an attempt to change the subject.

"Mhmm you do. You normally look focused. Kind of like, if someone tried to scare you by throwing an eyeball at you, you'd laugh." She would. "Now? Now you look like a rabbit that has no time to run and is just laying low hoping whatever's hunting it passes by."

Nicole shut up for a moment, only looking at the brunette in front of her incredulously. Maybe she was far more attentive than she gave her credit for.

"Uh. Just thinking." At a raised dark eyebrow, the no shit went unsaid, so Nicole tried to elaborate. "About earlier. When we were with your sisters and Daniela uh- Daniela called me your lover."

Saying that the words felt awkward on her tongue was close to the year's biggest understatement. It felt like pulling out teeth would be an easier task. Nicole had never been good with her words, having learned since childhood to keep her mouth shut. But the fact that Cassandra seemed to share her struggle brought some semblance of comfort.

"And?" As if they were talking about the weather.

"And… was she right in describing me as such?"

She couldn't help a small gulp when the brunette stopped walking, looking at her with a frown. Any sane person would be at the very least somewhat afraid in this situation. Sanity however was scarce these days as Nicole was afraid, though not of the bodily harm that may come from her inquiry, but rather of Cassandra's answer.

"Nicole, your tongue has been in my mouth." Amongst many other places.

The redhead's cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson and she mumbled for an answer. She wasn't sure how to tell her that sleeping together did not automatically make them lovers. But then again, Cassandra's thoughts remained a mystery more than anything.

Thankfully the brunette took the metaphorical reins of the conversation and stepped forward. She wrapped her hands around Nicole's arms, gentler than one would imagine possible from her, and bent down to whisper no more than an inch away from her ear.

"I'll have you know, I'm not particularly fond of letting anyone I don't deem important touch me. Especially not the way you do."

The words made something flutter in Nicole's chest, an unfamiliar and comforting warmth. Said warmth got chipped away at the slightest bit when Cassandra pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"Should I take it that it's not mutual then?" Cassandra's tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't truly care about the answer. She could keep doing whatever she wanted either way, afterall who was going to stop her? But to someone who got familiar with all her small quirks and habits, the waver in her voice was more than clear.

"No." The world slipped from her lips with no hesitation.

No hesitation, because the more she thought about it, and she didn't need to think a lot mind you, the more Nicole realized that she couldn't remember a time when she felt the way she did here. Sure the initial threat of death looming over her head was anything but pleasant, but once that melted into affection and nights spent in Cassandra's arms the thought of leaving didn't as much as graze her mind.

"No, no. It is," she repeated, more certainty making its way into her tone.

At that Cassandra smiled. A small, almost shy one would say if they knew her well enough, smile. Her shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension when she leaned down again, her lips stopping not even an inch away. Nicole wasted no time leaning forward, their mouths meeting in a kiss that mixed softness and need beautifully. Their lips slid against each other until, surprisingly, it was Cassandra to pull back and sigh.

"Come sleep, we have some cutting up to do in the morning."

Nicole frowned. "Tomorrow? Wasn't that supposed to be due in a few days?"

A devilish grin appeared on black lips, fangs shimmering ominously in the low light. "Bela caught a foolish man-thing sneaking around the forest on the castle grounds. She's really excited to turn this one into a nice steak."

The redhead only let out an oh in acknowledgement. Foolish indeed. At least they could finally put into practice a few autopsy tricks Nicole had been itching to show her.

She let herself be guided back to Cassandra's chambers and into her bed, that she had grown intimately familiar with. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was the brunette's cool skin, pressed against her own. A welcomed comfort among the myriad of soft pillows that surrounded them. Nicole wondered briefly if being undead meant it was hard to keep yourself warm, but the thought quickly slipped away as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 2 (Rowaelin)

Part 1

~Rowan~

Rowan didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

The only time that even came close was when he lost his first and only court case, but over the years he'd come to live with that.

This though?

This immature, childish, irritatingly clever woman... he had a feeling he'd carry the rage he felt against her until the day he finally died of it.

Although, if he was honest, his returning move had been a little childish, too.

He'd ordered one of the guards to strip her cell of everything except the chess set. Her mattress, the makeshift knife he shuddered to think she'd had in the same room as him, her pillow.

If she wanted to steal his shit, he'd steal hers, too.

He'd also had the guard move one of his pawns forward on the board.

Not the most creative, but he didn't have many options.

What did you take from a woman who had nothing? How did you punish someone who was already serving the longest punishment available?

The bank had seized her assets when she'd been locked up, and the lease on her apartment had long since run out. She didn't have any personal items with her, didn't seem to even care about anything besides making his life hell.

Case in point, when he got home that night, exhausted from dealing with Aelin and spending a long day at the office, he'd discovered her retaliation.

She'd stolen his bed.

The whole goddamn thing, frame and all.

How she'd managed to get it out of a penthouse condo with security not realizing a thing, he had no idea. He knew from experience it wouldn't even fit through the door.

It'd seemed if she was going to be uncomfortable, so was he.

Steaming with anger, he'd showered and flopped on the couch like an idiot, not even able to sleep thanks to the rage she'd worked him into.

She was completely kicking his ass. From the inside of a jail cell.

He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep before giving up on even trying. At six, he'd dressed and driven to Whitehorn and Salvaterre, the law firm he was a partner at.

If he couldn't sleep, he'd at least figure out how the hell she was pulling this shit off.

Looking through her folder, he went through her daily schedule, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Eight am wake-up, breakfast, shower, lunch, yard time, dinner, lights out at nine. Between activities, she worked out in her cell or read a book from the run-down prison library.

In the eight years she'd been in prison, she hadn't had a single visitor. Her cousin Aedion--a playboy Rowan couldn't be paid to associate with--delivered a care package on the first of every month.

Strange, considering nothing of the sort had been in her cell.

She'd been in solitary confinement ever since randomly attacking her cellmate a little over a month ago. She was still allowed yard time and meals with the other prisoners, but she was chained at all times.

Also strange, considering Aelin wasn't the type to do anything randomly.

Rowan watched the security tapes he'd strong armed the guards into giving him, going through the past few days to see how she'd gotten out of her cell to rob him.

He watched as she was escorted to the yard, watched as she ate breakfast and lunch and dinner alone, watched as she put herself through vigorous training in her cell.

Days of footage, and he didn't find anything.

Feeling like a bit of a creep, he watched the nighttime footage of her sleeping, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She didn't move too much or too little--both of which would indicate it wasn't really her under that thin blanket. There were no attempts to pick the locks in between her wrists and ankles, no digging into the wall behind her toilet.

Nothing.

Which meant someone was helping her.

He could go through the official channels and ask the police for her known connections, but he hadn't reported either of the robberies yet.

Partly because he wanted to deal with her himself, partly because he felt a bit stupid getting robbed from a woman in the most secure prison in the city.

Which means he'd have to go about it a different way.

Grabbing his keys from his desk, he debated how else he could make her miserable, unfortunately finding nothing else he could do to her, no revenge he could get from robbing her tiny little cell.

No, he'd have to try something new.

Maybe he could bribe her into confessing. She didn't have anything right now, but maybe he could give her something to lose.

He'd bring her lunch, force himself to apologize for yelling at her, and just politely ask who her accomplice was.

He thought on it as he rode down the elevator to the garage. It probably wouldn't work, but he didn't know what else to do.

And besides, he knew from experience Aelin didn't respond well to his anger.

Checking his email to make sure he wasn't missing any important meetings, he pressed the button on his car fob, expecting to hear the resounding beep from his designated parking spot.

Except the beep never came.

Slowly looking up, Rowan had to amend his earlier statement.

Now he didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

He stormed over to the security booth, hardly refraining from grabbing the man inside and throwing him to the ground.

"Where's my car, Rolland?"

"In your spot, boss," the stout little man replied instantly and surely, snapping his gum and looking at him in confusion. "Haven't seen you drive out yet."

"Yes, exactly. Which is why it's a mystery why it's no longer in it's spot."

Rolland caught up slowly. "You mean... it was stolen? From here? From you?"

Jaw so tight his molars were practically fused together, Rowan growled, "Just let me see the security tapes from this morning."

The guard nodded quickly, eyes nervous as he typed something into the desktop in front of him.

"That's weird," he muttered a moment later, typing faster and sending Rowan a nervous glance.

"What?" he asked, trying to calm himself down with a few of the breathing techniques he'd learned over the years.

"The tapes are gone, but there's... this."

Rolland turned the screen so Rowan could see it, and all the breathing in the world couldn't keep him from slamming a fist into the side of the security shack.

The footage was gone, and on the blank black screen read: Bishop to J7.

He was going to fucking kill her.

~Aelin~

"Enjoy your taxi ride here?" she asked sweetly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Rowan scowled at her as he crossed the small room inmates could use to talk to their lawyers. He yanked the chair across from her out, then threw himself into it. "You are such a pain in my ass."

She just shrugged.

He sat across from her, angry and broody, and for a long time, he just stared at her.

Finally he asked, "Why are you doing this, Aelin?"

"I told you. You locked me up for something I didn't do. I want you to be as miserable as I am. It's simple, petty revenge."

Nothing about it was simple, but that was besides the point.

He was quiet for another moment. "Why now?"

She sighed, but she wasn't upset. Truthfully, she'd been waiting for him to ask that question.

"I want to tell you a story."

He stood up suddenly, face exasperated. "I'm not fucking joking around. And I'm not going to let you waste any more of my time."

He made his way to the door, and his dismissal of her pissed her off enough to say, "Sit down, or your car's going off Whigsby Bridge."

He smiled like he'd won their little game. "So you admit you have it."

"Sure," she said casually, honestly not giving a shit about the car.

His brow furrowed. "You're giving up? Just like that?"

"You're a fucking idiot if you think this is about your car, Rowan. But sure, I admit I know exactly where it, and your bed, and your little dagger are being hidden."

He narrowed his eyes. "This conversation is being recorded, and you just admitted to being an accessory to robbery, so-"

"You aren't going to press charges," she cut him off, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it.

Nasty little prison habit she'd developed, smoking.

Or maybe she just did it because she knew he hated the smell.

"Oh, really?" he asked incredulously, eyeing the cigarette with disdain.

She grinned. "Once you sit and hear my story and realize I'm telling the truth, you're going to feel so guilty you won't even care about the car. Now sit down. I'd hate to see a classic get totaled because you're being stubborn again."

He glared at her, but came back to the table and sat down again.

Then reached over and snatched the cigarette from her lips, putting it out against the steel table top.

She just pulled out another, lighting it with one of her last matches. The irritation on his face made it worth the loss.

He waved a hand as if to say Get on with it.

She'd debated how to tell him this story for a long time. It was long, and messy and not particularly pleasant for her. But she wanted him to know the full thing, so she'd decided to start at the very beginning.

"My parents died when I was four," she began, ignoring his dramatic sigh. "I went into foster care, and as you can imagine, I was a particularly unruly child."

She smiled at the few memories she had. "I stole from the nuns, snuck out of my room at night and ran through the house, set all the clocks back an hour so we could sleep in. Small stuff. But it irritated them, because they couldn't prove it was me."

"Sounds familiar," he grouched, making her grin.

"I was adopted by Arobynn Hamel a year later."

As she'd predicted, his mouth fell open at that.

Arobynn was the known king of the underworld in Rifthold. He had a hand in every aspect of crime, yet no one could do anything about it because he never committed the crime himself.

His name was revered, so much so no one ever dared to cross him.

"But your record says-"

"That I stayed in foster care until I turned eighteen, I know."

Arobynn hated public records and had a deal with someone in the system that he'd take some of the kids off their hands if they kept quiet about it. Illegal as hell, but he wasn't someone you refused without suffering serious consequences.

It was the perfect crime. No one would miss unwanted kids, and it gave the system one less mouth to feed.

"I didn't know it, but he'd been watching me for a while. He... I don't know, saw something in me. Natural, innocent talent he could work with and turn into something different. He adopted me on my fifth birthday. And then he started training me."

"To do what?" Rowan asked, shoulders tensing.

"Everything," she answered with a shaky laugh, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Stuff I wanted to learn, like how to pick a lock or walk without making sound. But as I got older, he taught me other stuff. Stuff I didn't want to know."

"How to kill," he finished, picking up on her tone.

She nodded, finishing her cigarette and flicking the butt on the floor.

"I was good," she told him quietly, looking down at the table. "By the time I was fifteen, he said I was the best he'd ever had. None of his other... children could beat me in a fight, not even the older ones who had a hundred pounds on me. And I could steal anything and not leave a trace."

His eyes didn't show an ounce of doubt, and she didn't know how to feel about it. But she kept going anyway.

"I was his favorite. I was his best asset, and I didn't care about anything that would compromise me. I lost my parents, and despite how much he wanted me to, I never loved him. I had no weaknesses. Except Sam."

"Another of his students?" Rowan asked, and it wasn't lost on her he said students instead of children.

She nodded. "We were adopted around the same time, grew up together. He was a year older, and whenever I had a problem, he was the one I'd turn to. He was good to me, and by the time I was seventeen, not a small part of me loved him."

Aelin broke off and took a deep breath, wishing she had another cigarette and trying to figure out how to put into words how much he'd meant to her.

"Was?" Rowan asked, so softly and quietly and understandingly that she was reminded of the man he'd once been, the one she'd loved.

Shaking her head to clear it, she said, "He made a mistake. He went on a job; he was supposed to break into one of the underground casino's owned by Arobynn's competitor and memorize the ledger, but he got caught. It was messy and horrible and stupid, and the owner wanted blood. Arobynn promised he'd kill Sam as retribution."

Rowan's eyes widened, almost like he hadn't realized how brutally she'd been raised until that moment.

"I begged him not to. Sam had saved me and helped me so many times that I couldn't not do the same for him. I told him I'd do anything."

She studied her hands, regret and guilt thick on her skin. "Arobynn said if I took ten of the jobs Sam was supposed to do, he wouldn't kill him. I thought they'd be similar to the one he'd messed up on, small break-ins or robberies. So I accepted."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she batted it away as she continued, "The second I shook his hand, Tern--another of Arobynn's--shot Sam in the head."

Rowan's face blanched so quickly, she thought he might pass out.

He started to say something, but she spoke faster. "I... snapped. I killed Tern, tried to kill Arobynn. You called me a murderer, and that's true. I am, and I don't regret it. Tern was a sadistic bastard, and I'm glad he's dead. And one day, I'll kill Arobynn for what he did."

Rowan shook his head, confusion and shock and something similar to pity in his eyes. "Why didn't you leave, run away?"

She leveled a look at him. "I didn't exactly have a choice, Rowan. My punishment for Tern lasted for over a year."

There was a long pause.

"Punishment?" he asked in a breathless voice that made something in her chest hurt.

She looked at the table again, skin pebbling at the memory of that year. "He locked me in a cell in the basement, in the dark. Once a month he'd come in to ask if I knew someone named Sam. It took me ten months to get confused, another three to say no."

Still not meeting his eyes, she looked at his hands, noticing they were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. And a part of her, buried under all the rage and resentment and sadness, warmed at the thought that he was... he was angry for her.

"It took me a long time after to figure out what was real and what wasn't. But Arobynn never let me forget our deal. And right before I met you, he told me the first job."

"What were the jobs?"

Aelin looked back up at that, the air thick between them as she said, "You already know."

"The murders."

She nodded, somehow managing to keep her spine straight despite the feeling of a hundred pound weight being lifted from her shoulders.

He at least knows why now, she thought to herself.

It was one of the things that had bothered her over the years. That he didn't know why she'd done what he thought she'd done. That he thought she'd.. wanted to do it.

He was silent for a long time, just watching her with a carefully emotionless face. "Thank you for telling me that," he said eventually. "I never could understand why."

Then he stood and walked to the door again, and it was only when his hand was on the handle she spoke again. "You asked why I'm doing this, and why I'm doing it now."

He opened the door but paused. Waited.

"It's because I tried to tell you this all those years ago, and you didn't care. You just assumed I was guilty because the evidence looked like it."

She spoke around the lump in her throat. "I told you I didn't kill those people, Rowan, and you didn't even care."

He spun around, slamming the door so hard it rattled, and in a split second, he was in front of her. A hand on the table, the other on her chair, he leaned down and got in her face.

He was so angry, so unbelievably enraged she couldn't believe it. He was angry?

"I didn't care? I didn't fucking care, that's what you think? Watching you get dragged away in cuffs was the worst moment of my life, and you think I didn't fucking care?"

Shock hit her like a bucket of ice water.

That moment was crystal clear in her mind, and she couldn't put what he was saying with what she knew.

He'd watched her with that same expressionless face, with cold eyes that had haunted her ever since.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he wasn't done.

"I fucked loved you! I thought you were the love of my life, Aelin. I begged you to tell me something that would help, tell me anything. But you didn't! You just kept saying you were innocent; you didn't give me anything to actually work with."

"I-"

"I found that stupid fucking list five days before I reported it, did you know that?"

She shook her head, because she hadn't.

"Exactly. You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled, eyes flashing. "I spent five days investigating it myself, trying to make sense of why you'd know those names. After your arrest, I spent two weeks trying to find anything, a single piece of evidence, that said it wasn't you. And after the trial, I spent another two months trying to poke holes in my own goddamn case."

He slammed a hand into the table. "I did everything I fucking could! I was desperate for it not to be you. I argued my case so your lawyer could plead circumstantial evidence. I put you on the stand so you could say anything you wanted. I went for life sentences instead of the death penalty to give you time to actually tell me what the hell was going on!"

She was breathing heavily, heart breaking and reforming over and over again at what he was saying, what he was implying.

"I didn't assume shit," he said in a low voice, so close they shared air. "You didn't tell me anything."

Aelin's voice trembled as she croaked, "I tried."

He shook his head, letting out a breath of amusement. "No, you didn't. If this past week has proven anything, it's that you don't try to do anything, you do it. You didn't tell me anything, Aelin. You're still not telling me anything."

"I'm telling you to look again! I'm telling you you didn't look hard enough, because I left breadcrumbs only you could find, breadcrumbs that explain everything."

"Stop playing games with me!" he shouted, eyes flashing with a fresh wave of anger. "It's been eight years! Stop holding onto whatever secret you're holding onto and just tell me!"

Gods, she wanted to.

He was the one person she couldn't trust with this secret, this stupid, most important secret, and yet he was the also the one person she wanted to tell it to.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but what came out was, "I didn't kill them, Rowan. I promise I didn't kill them. I can't... I can't tell you anything else."

"Jesus, Aelin," he spat, pushing off the table and turning to leave.

"Just look into it," she called after him, fingers digging into the table to resist the urge to try and follow him. "I promise you can figure everything out, and you'll understand everything. Please."

She knew why, after all this time, it was so important for him to know the truth when that hadn't been her original plan.

It was because she'd spent eight years believing he hadn't tried, believing she hadn't been a good enough person for him to even look into the possibility it wasn't her.

And maybe it was because he was once again leaving her, or maybe it was because she felt like she was in that courtroom again, begging him to believe her, or maybe it was because of something she didn't even understand yet.

Regardless of the reason, she found herself saying, "I loved you, too, you know."

He looked at her with sad eyes that she was sure mirrored her own and shook his head. "Not enough, apparently."

"You don't believe that," she argued, shaking her head and trying to keep the building emotions down.

"If you'd loved me, you would've told me. You would've given me the proof, whatever breadcrumbs you're talking about. You wouldn't have let me watch them take you away."

"Rowan-"

"You wouldn't have thought, for a second, that I didn't try to fight for you. And you sure as hell wouldn't have waited eight years to do whatever it is you're trying to do."

"I had to," she whispered, even as she knew it wouldn't be enough.

She shook with the effort to not tell him everything, but even after all he'd told her and how everything had changed, she just couldn't. Not yet.

He stood at the door, watching her with those eyes she'd once thought looked like the most beautiful emeralds. "Sometimes I think about it, you know. What life would be like if I hadn't tried to fix your sink in the middle of the night."

She smiled sadly. "Me too."

Rowan shook his head, gaze taking in her face like he thought he'd never see her again.

He thought it was over now, she realized. He thought that now she knew he hadn't given up on her immediately, now that she'd told him the story she'd wanted to tell him, that it was over and she'd give up.

"Look again," she whispered. "You know I didn't do it. It's why you're here, why you kept looking after the trial ended. You know I wouldn't."

"Goodbye, Aelin," he said instead, not telling her any of the things she really wanted to hear.

It wasn't until the door shut behind him she finally let herself cry.

She'd told herself that it didn't matter; that in a month the truth would come out and everything would be normal again.

She'd told herself she was only messing with Rowan for revenge, not because she wanted to see him again or test that he'd find the clues she'd left for him.

She'd told herself this was just a game.

She'd told herself all sorts of things that turned out to be lies.

~~~

Part 3

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[chaotic-noceur]

malaysia truly asia

paring: Nanami Kento x Malaysian!Reader

summary: the story of how Nanami had come to know about Malaysia and his first trip to the country he had longed to visit

warnings + contents: food/eating, beach, multilingual reader (malay is mentioned, the rest is implied), malaysia references (contextual notes are provided!)

a/n: I never thought knowing the Malaysian slogan would come in handy but here I am. Words cannot express how excited my Malaysian heart got when Nanami mentioned Malaysia so I'm hurling this into the tumblr void for anyone interested :)

contextual notes + malay transalation

terima kasih = thank you

ringgit = Malaysian currency

tokyo is an hour ahead of kuantan

sunrise is around 7am in Malaysia, anytime from 4-6am in Tokyo (according to google)

roti canai = 'Indian-influenced flatbread dish' (wikipedia)

roti tisu = similar to roti canai, except thinner and shaped like a cone

pasar malam = night market, usually on closed off sections of road

flag erasers are often collected by school kids who purchase them from the on campus bookshop

"You're not from here." He says it with such assertion that there was no room to deny it, not that you were going to. You quirk an eyebrow up at him instead from your place on your bed. He nods to the english book currently in your hands as if it's a way of answer. Your head tilts to one side and he sighs before continuing. "Your Japanese is good, but you speak it with hints of... uncertainty, like it's not your mother tongue." I would know, he doesn't say. Your gaze falls from his bashfully and he seems to realise the implication of his words. "I apologise, I hadn't meant it as an insult. I was merely hoping to ask about your childhood."

Your mouth forms an o before you reply with a curt "I grew up in Malaysia and then my family moved here." He seems to consider your answer for a moment before nodding and returning his attention to his book. The pair of you fall silent, residual noise from Gojo's graduation party filters in to fill the gap. Before long, you notice his gaze flitting around the room as he shifts in his seat, a sure sign that he was looking for an opportunity to speak more. You chuckling lightly before putting your book away. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Your eyes narrow slightly to deduce if he's teasing. But his eyes hold nothing but genuine curiosity. It was rare for Nanami to ever display his true emotions but there was something about his eyes that was always readable to you. So you talk. You tell him about the road trips you used to take up the peninsula, showed him photos of your childhood, pointed out the few bits of home that were scattered around your room. He clings on to every word as you tell him about the near-constant summer, complained about the humidity, and reminisced about the food that you dearly missed.

Truthfully, you are surprised by his interest. Few people had even heard of the small, dual-part country, even fewer have shown any interest in learning more. Maybe this is the moment you fell in love with him. Or at least, it's the moment you accept your feelings for him as something beyond an passing crush but as something worth fighting for.

“I hope we can visit it some day,” he says when you finish.

We, not I, you think. Your heart flutters in your chest at the realisation. He is seemingly unaware at the implication. You reply with a simple “maybe”, refusing to give in to the false hope that he returns your feelings.

Some months later, you find him huddled in a quiet corner of the Jujustu High library engrossed in a book of Malaysian history, a small notepad open beside him. Where he acquired the book was beyond you. With nothing better to do with your rare moment of free time, you shrug your shoulders before heading towards him, making noises as you move so as to not startle him when you settle beside him.

You're flipping through your book in search of the bookmark when he speaks, "would you like me to read to you?" You turn to look at him so fast he's concerned you might have gotten whiplash. His cheeks are flushed slightly and he refuses to meet your eye. You blink at him for several moments and he clears his throat awkwardly. "I just - well, I was hoping to practice my English with you. It's um.." he rubs at the base of his neck, "it's been a while since I've spoken it."

"Oh," you begin for lack of words. For as long as you've known him, he has never once mentioned being multilingual. Then again, he rarely ever talked about himself. Preferring to let Yuu take the lead in conversations or to direct questions away from himself. "Sure, I'd love to help!"

"Te-li-ma kah-sir?"

"Te-ri-ma ka-sih," you correct as you swipe through the selection of in-flight movies. Nanami repeats after you and you nod before smiling at him.

"And what about 'where is the toilet?'"

Your tapping stops momentarily. "Formally, or informally?" He deadpans at you and you chuckle in response. "Di manakah tandas?" His pen glides along his pocket notebook before he repeats after you once more. "Love, you know you'll be fine with just English right?"

He drops his pen and takes a sip of beer from the clear plastic cup before responding. "I know, but it's a sign of respect to make an attempt to learn the official language." A soft smile graces your face before you resume your scrolling. You really are the luckiest human on the planet to be able to call him yours.

It's mid-afternoon when you finally leave Kuatan Airport. Travel fatigue begins to set in on the taxi ride to the beach resort Nanami had booked. You loop your arm with his before settling you head on his shoulder. Instead of telling you that you should've slept on the plane like he would've done if it was anyone else, he simply graces your forehead with a kiss before returning his gaze to the map on his phone.

Checking into the resort is a smooth process. Nanami makes quick work of talking to the receptionist before the pair of you make your way to your room, the resort porter guiding you. Nanami had been inclined to refuse but the porter rejected his offer. The pair of you make light conversation with the resort porter as you walk, Nanami using his arsenal of Malay when he can.

When you arrive at your room, Nanami takes your bags from the porter as you unlock the door. He settles the bags inside as you shake the porter's hand in thanks, passing along a 5 ringgit bill. They thank you with a bow before taking their leave. Nanami shoots you a look of surprise when he notices the action. "I wasn't aware that there was a tipping culture in Malaysia."

"There isn't, not to the extent that westerner do anyway. It's really just porters and housekeeping." You shrug.

He scowls at your slightly. "Regardless, you should have informed me," he grumbles. You chuckle at him before patting his chest lightly, avoiding his sunglasses that hang from the v of his button up.

"Well, you'll have plenty of opportunities to leave a tip for housekeeping." You're staying here for two week after all.

As Nanami does a quick sweep of the room, you set up the wifi for your respective devices before making your way to the snack cabinet. You whoop when you find a packet of your favourite childhood snack. Nanami pokes his head out from the bathroom at the sound, only to raise a curious eyebrow when he finds you crouch on the floor, holding the packet as if it was your child. "What?" you exclaim, "I haven't seen these in years!" His arms shoot up in surrender before he returns to his checks, his lips curling into a smile at your antics.

When Nanami returns to the bedroom, he finds you asleep on the sofa, phone slipping from your grip. He removes it before it falls as he rubs at his eyes as the travel fatigue begins to hit him too. The long flight and layover hadn't done either of you any favours but he supposes that what he gets for choosing a city with a small airport.

He changes you out of your travel clothes before moving you to the bed. Once he stashes your valuables into the safe, he freshens himself up before crawling in beside you. You smell of an airport and the mist the flight attendants had sprayed in the cabin but he doesn't care as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

This is peace, he thinks. No missions, no curses and no Gojou Satoru. Just the two of you and a (mostly) endless supply of sunshine. He likes the thought of that.

When he wakes from his nap, you’re no longer by his side. He panics for a moment before he turns and finds you sitting out on the wooden deck, admiring the ocean view as the sun begins to set. Raking a hand through his hair, he climbs out of bed and makes his way to you. You smile at him as he sits down before laying your head against his shoulder, his arm looping around your waist.

“Sorry I threw us off schedule,” you say after a while.

You feel his head shake against yours before he says, “as long as you're by my side, there's nothing to apologise for. We’re on holiday. Let’s enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

“Afraid Gojou’s going to appear out of thin air?” you tease. He groans at the mention of his senior's name.

"Don't mention that name again. You'll jinx us." This time, you can't help laugh against him. You peck his cheek in consolidation and he think maybe, just maybe, for once in his life, Gojou will keep his meddling fingers out of things that are none of his concern.

The next two weeks go by in a blur of delicious food, sandy toes and a ridiculous amount of sweat. If there was one thing you didn't miss about Malaysia, it was the humidity. But it never stopped Nanami from intertwining his fingers with yours or ghosting a kiss onto your temple. The pair of you had quickly settled into fragments of a routine since you had first arrived.

Every morning, Kento watches the sunrise from the cushioned seat on the wooden deck. The first time it happened was unintentional. His body had become habituated to waking up early for work. That, combined with the 1 hour time difference and the fact that the sun rose significantly later in Malaysia, meant that he had woken up well before the sky had shown any indication of light. You were still fast asleep, unmoving even as he slowly untangled himself from you. So as to not disturb you, he made himself a cup of tea and read from his Kindle on the wooden deck until the sun had began poking out of the horizon.

Then it just became his own little ritual. On occasions where you wake with him, the pair of you take a walk along the beach. The ocean waves kiss your bare feet to the beat of a song you do not know as you talk about your plans for the day. You stumble across a sea turtle laying her eggs one morning and the pair of you settle onto the sand, far enough away as to not spook her, but close enough to marvel at the rare sight.

Nanami pulls out his phone after a while to record a quick video and sends it to Yuuji. Not long after, Gojou attempts to facetime him and Nanami turns off his phone without hesitation. You chuckle at their antics before you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. Nanami declines all of Gojou calls for you and he gives up after 7 rejections. In hindsight, Nanami really should have seen that coming but he blames the cloud of holiday bliss that fogs his mind.

The rest of your days are spent enjoying the ocean breeze (or more often, the ocean heat), exploring the local attractions, immersing yourselves in the culture and best of all, devouring authentic Malaysian food. Nanami had made a list of the most recommended dining locations ranging from high end restaurants to road side food stalls and you make it your shared mission to visit every single one before you leave.

At each shop, he informs you of the best rated dishes but trusts your instincts/cravings for the most part. You point out any items that he 'has to try, at least once' and he asks questions about the items that pique his interest. More often than not, the pair of you will order a variety of dishes and share them, not able to settle on just one. Being the bread lover that he is, he takes a liking to roti canai. Although he isn't particularly unadventurous with his choices, always settling for a plain roti canai and opting for experimenting with curries instead. So, you take the plunge for him, knowing he'll likely be intrigued by the pointy hat shaped crepe that sits before you — he later learns that it's a roti tisu, or the stuffed roti that arrives. (He thanks you later.)

On your last night there, the pair of you make your way to the biggest pasar malam in the city. Nanami had a list of local fruits that he was hoping to buy while you had a list of souvenir ideas for the kids and your coworkers. You walk hand in hand, following the flow of footfall as your eyes scan the stalls. Nanami doesn't particularly know what he's looking for as he passes the snack stalls but he's enjoying himself all the same as he watches you converse with the stall keepers in a foreign tongue. He slips out of his daze when he feels a cold packet being pressed against his hand. "What's this?" He slips his wrist through the plastic loop and grips the tied-off section of the bag.

"Sugar cane!" you chirp, radiating an excited aura that rivalled Yuuji. Must be the atmosphere, he thinks. He takes a sip through the straw as you receive your change. Sweetness floods his taste buds but don’t overwhelm them. He savours the refreshing coolness it brings, contrasting the humidity. You look to him expectedly as you tug him further down the street. “Good?” you ask over the noise from the crowd.

“Acceptable.” There's a look of content tugging on his features that contradicts his tone and a soft smile tugs at your lips before you're promptly distracted by another stall.

When you finally arrive at the fruit stalls, you’re armed with a packet of cheap flag erasers for the students and an assortment of sugary snacks for the school staff room. The crowd had dwindled as you moved further towards the back of the market, allowing you a clear view of most of the stalls before you.

Nanami tugs on your intertwined hands before leading you towards a stall with mountains of rambutans and mangosteens. He nods politely at the elderly couple manning the store and accepts the plastic basket they hand him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the smile that tugs at his lips when they greet him in English. Undoubted pleased to be able to use his skills.

“I assume I should pick the ones that are not blackened and soft?” he says to you when the couple finish explaining the pricing. You nod in response as you begin carefully placing fruits into the basket. Nanami mimics your actions beside you before his attention is grabbed by the fruits to your right. “Is that what I believe it to be?”

You follow his gaze as he speaks. When they fall on spiky green fruits and packets of yellow, your eyes light up in delight. “Mhmm,” you hum before turning back to face him. There’s a sparkle of wonder in his eyes that makes you laugh before you turn to speak to the woman, “how much for a packet of durian?”

You look wistfully at the whole durians as the lady bags your items. As much as you would love to see Nanami use his 7:3 technique on the fruit (you can almost sense your ancestors rolling over in their graves at the thought), you know you won't be able to finish it off by yourselves. Besides, there is no guarantee that Nanami wouldn't hate it.

Rather uneventfully, Nanami does not hate durian on instinct — "the smell is uninviting, but the fruit itself is decent," he says as he helps himself to another. So, with the remnants of fruit juice clinging to your lips and the lingering smell of durian on your breath (despite your best efforts to get rid of both), the pair of you now walk along the beach's shoreline. Your pinkies are looped as you rejoice in the complete and utter sense of peace. There are no curses to be worrying about, no impromptu visit from a certain colleague. And for the first time in a long long time, Nanami feels like he can let his guard down. He feels like he doesn’t need to keep looking over his shoulder all the time. He doesn't feel the weight of the country's safety settling in his chest.

“We should come back some time,” he says as the waves lap at your feet gently.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “not sick of fending off mosquitoes and melting in the heat yet?” There’s a teasing glint in your eyes and he chuckles along with you.

He smiles at you then — genuinely, without fear of showing his emotions, shakes his head and kisses your temple gently. “Maybe we can visit your family next time. You can show me where you grew up, your favourite places, where you had your first date...” You smack him across his chest for his teasing while he chuckles at the action.

“Maybe one day.” He interlocks your hands then and ghosts a kiss over your knuckles before looping it over your shoulder to pull you into his chest. One day... when you’re both rid of this curse-riddled life.

[itsadamcole]

but ... it’s valentine’s day

fem!reader x jon moxley

reader loves Valentine's Day, but Jon isn't the biggest fan of the holiday and he makes sure everyone knows that ...

word count: 2.2k+

warnings: kinda fluffy, public touching and a little teasing, smut

— we’re gonna ignore the fact that this is being posted almost 2 months late. okay? okay. —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You walk back to your locker room after your match with Britt Baker. You're all sweaty and feel gross, even after you've wiped most of the sweat away. The match was for the number one contender's tournament, and you lost but you're happy for your best friend since she advanced, even if it was because she beat you.

The door closes behind you and you fall onto the little loveseat with a sigh. You close your eyes for a second, literally one second, when the door opens and you hear your boyfriend ask, "Why does everyone make a huge deal about Valentine's Day?"

"It's a day to show some extra love to your significant other," you say, closing your eyes again. "Balloons, chocolates, and romantic dates. You know, it's a thing."

Jon sits beside you and says, "I can give you balloons, chocolates, and romantic dates any day of the week."

You look over at him and say, "You haven't given me balloons or chocolates. Romantic dates, yes, but not the balloons or chocolates."

He blinks at you and says, "I don't have to give you balloons or chocolates. I give you the hottest sex you'll ever have, whenever you want."

"You do," you giggle. "Maybe I'd like some chocolates and balloons today though."

Your boyfriend moves closer to you and puts a hand on your thigh. "Or," he says, kissing your jaw. "I can just give you some hot sex again." A sigh escapes your lips and you smile.

Jon rubs your thigh a bit as you say, "I have to shower and I do want to at least do dinner tonight since it is Valentine's Day. Then after that, all the hot sex you want, baby."

He looks at you and asks, "Can I join you in the shower?"

"As long as you promise you won't try anything and actually let me shower," you tell him, standing up.

Jon nods and says, "I promise, baby."

He doesn't keep his promise. Not at all.

***

You get home after Jon turned a 20 minute shower into an hour-long shower. Dinner is very late because you had a match, and because of the long shower, but you still get dressed up to go out. You dress into a two piece red dress. The top is lacey, almost see through and has long sleeves. The neck dips low, revealing a lot of your cleavage, and it's cut like a crop top. It hugs your body. You know Jon will love that, especially since it reveals a decent amount. He'll also love the fact that the skirt is short and tight. You put on red heels and put your hair up in a high ponytail, adding some light makeup after. Not too much though.

Just so you can use it against Jon later, you don't wear any underwear. You're completely commando.

Jon waits downstairs for you. He sits on the couch and scrolls through his phone. You click into the living room and clear your throat. "Ready?" you ask.

Your boyfriend looks up from his phone and his eyes almost bug out of his head. "Damn, baby," he says. "I don't know if I can make it through dinner with you looking like that."

You walk over to him and stand behind him. He's looking back at you as you lean down, putting your hands on his shoulders. You say, "I have a surprise for you after dinner, but you have to be good. Okay?"

Jon says, "I can't promise you that. Look at what happened last time I promised you I wouldn't do anything."

"Touche," you giggle. "Come on. Dinner then sex, I promise."

Your boyfriend reluctantly gets up and leaves with you to go to dinner.

Both of you decided on the way home that you would just go to a nice place that wouldn't be completely booked since it's late on Valentine's Day. Most couples would be home by now so you're hopeful to get a table pretty quickly.

You do have to wait a little bit. You sit with Jon in the waiting area on a comfortable bench that's cushioned. Jon sits very close to you. You look over at Jon, saying, "You better not do anything, Jon. Or no present for you."

He holds his hands up and says, "I'm not doing anything to you, baby. I promise. See? Hands are up and I'm not touching you."

A smile forms on his lips and you shake your head, a smile forming on yours. "You are really testing it," you say.

"I'm not testing anything," he says. "But I still don't get romantic dates on Valentine's Day. I can take you out whenever you want to. Why couldn't we stay home and have sex or something."

You say, "Because Valentine's Day is about spending the day doing romantic stuff. Not about how hard you can fuck me, Jon. I know how hard you can fuck me and I've learned the hard way just how hard you can fuck me."

He snickers a bit and says, "You really couldn't walk for the rest of the day."

Laughing, you say, "I couldn't. That was your fault."

Jon smirks, proud of himself. You take his hand and rest your head on his shoulder.

Soon after, your name is called. A table is ready, and the hostess leads you to the table. Jon sits adjacent to you and you begin looking over the menu.

Younger couples surround you in the restaurant. The couple that are parents are probably home with their kids at this point.

A waitress comes up to you and Jon, saying, "Hi, my name is Andi and I'll be taking care of you tonight. What can I get y'all to drink?" She has a slight southern accent.

Jon says, "A bottle of your finest wine for the table, please."

"Anything for you, darlin'," the waitress says, writing down Jon's request. You blink at the waitress as she walks off.

You continue to look over the menu, trying to find something to eat. It's a fancy restaurant so there are steaks and there are pasta dishes. You're not really in the mood for anything specific.

The waitress comes back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Okay, what can I get y'all to eat?" she asks.

You say, "I'll have the broccoli chicken alfredo. Can I get some extra alfredo sauce on that please?"

She nods and asks, "And for you, handsome?"

That little comment made you a little angry, you won't lie. You stare at Jon and he says, "I'll take a 12 ounce sirloin steak with mushrooms and onions. And for the sides, I'd like a loaded baked potato and french fries."

He got french fries. He knows you love french fries and he knows you'll snack on them. A smile forms on your lips.

The waitress nods and walks off. You pout a bit at Jon.

"What's wrong, babe?" Jon asks, looking at you. "Are you feeling okay? Sore from your match?"

You say, "She was flirting with you."

Jon reaches out and tucks a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he says, "I didn't notice. My girlfriend is looking sexy right beside me."

Blood rushes to your cheeks, warming them. Jon laughs as you blush. "It's not funny," you say.

"You're cute," Jon says. "And I love you."

You smile a bit and say, "Okay, fine. I love you too."

He leans over and pecks your lips. When he pulls back, you lean into him and press a longer kiss to his lips. One of Jon's hands slip between your thighs under the table. You put your elbows on the table and put your head in your hands. You look at Jon as his fingers slip further up your skirt.

A soft gasp leaves your lips as Jon surprisingly discovers you're not wearing any underwear. A mischievous smirk forms on his lips. "You're leaving yourself vulnerable to me, Y/N," Jon starts.

"You are not fingering me in the middle of a restaurant," you loud whisper at him. "So help me, Moxley. No surprise for you."

Jon chuckles and he just plays with your clit under the table. You have bite your lip to stay quiet. You feel yourself getting more wet with every movement of his fingers. This goes on until your meals get to the table.

Both of you are very turned on at this point because of him teasing you and touching you under the table so after you're done eating, Jon pays the bill and quickly leaves with you. You get in the car, and Jon gets in too. He drives to your shared house. You've taken off your heels by this point so you can get inside quicker.

It takes about two seconds for Jon's lips to find yours as soon as the door is closed. He presses your back against the door as you start to unbutton the buttons on his nice button-up that he wore to dinner. He quickly sheds the shirt and it drops to the floor. Your tongue slides into his mouth.

Jon's hands are on your thighs before he picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as Jon walks into the living room. He drops you on your back on the couch, breaking the kiss. You sit up and undo the button on his pants. You can see the very obvious bulge in his boxers when you pull his pants down. You trace the print of his dick for a second before you pull the boxers down.

You gently begin to stroke his member. Jon sighs softly before grabbing a handful of your hair. "Be nice and suck it," he almost commands.

"I didn't hear a 'please'," you say, smirking.

Jon says, "The only time you'll hear the word 'please' tonight is when I'm fucking you and you beg me for more."

The dirty talk is definitely a turn on for you. You bite your lip and take his dick in your hand before you take him in your mouth. You begin bobbing your head, using your hand for what can't fit in your mouth. Jon's hand is still in your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

You hum around him. You know that drives Jon crazy. Your hands are on his thighs and you grip a little bit. Jon grabs your ponytail and tilts your head back after a moment, his member sliding out of your mouth. You stare up at him and wait for him to do something.

Jon takes off the top of your two piece dress before taking the skirt off. He smirks when he sees that you’re now completely naked. He knows you went completely commando under your dress.

“You’re so bad, Y/N,” Jon tells you.

You grab his wrists and pull him onto you. He braces himself on the back of the couch and looks at you. “I had to learn from someone, didn’t I?” you say innocently.

He pushes you onto your back and puts your legs over his shoulders. “I know you learned from me, Y/N,” he says.

A smile forms on your lips as Jon lines himself up with your entrance. Without warning, he slams into you. It’s not as painful as it used to be because he almost always starts out like this when you have sex. You’ve gotten used to it, but it feels more pleasurable than painful.

“God, fuck,” you cuss. “Do it again.”

He listens to you and thrusts hard into you again. You moan out his name and grasp onto the couch cushions. Jon hovers above you as he begins to repeatedly slam into your core. Your moans are loud almost from the start.

Jon goes harder and harder every few thrusts. You gasp and moan. When he finds your g-spot, you scream, “Jon! Right there! Please don’t stop.”

Your moans and the sound of skin slapping fills the house. You grasp onto Jon’s arms, digging your nails into the skin as he fucks you.

A pit forms in your stomach and you know you’re close, but you still need to give Jon his Valentine’s Day present.

So, much to Jon’s surprise, you roll so you’re straddling his dick, which is still inside of him. Jon stares up at you and you begin to bounce up and down on his member. Your moans are loud and his hands are on your waist.

The pit in your stomach explodes without warning and you release around Jon, moaning his name. Jon cums inside of you, not wanting to dirty the couch cushions. You’re okay with it.

You collapse onto Jon’s chest. You bury your face in his neck and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. Both of you lay and catch your breaths.

“Best Valentine’s Day sex we’ve ever had,” Jon pants. “You need to top me more often, Y/N.”

A smirk forms on your lips and you say, “With pleasure.”

[thekatebridgerton]

I usually love the brigerton mom but her relationship with hyacinth rubbed me the wrong way. She immediacy thought hyacinth was at fault for relationship troubles and she treated her like she was a problem child when all her children were problematic. Hyacinth isn’t even top 3 of her children regarding problematic /scandalous actions

...she isn't? Are you sure? We're we reading the same book? If I had to put her somewhere in the ranking, it would be next to Benedict.

Let's do a quick review of scandals and how bad Violet would see it from her perspective:

Benedict, whom we have agreed is probably her favorite child because he does take the award for #mostproblematic, with the whole, seducing the bastard daughter of an earl while she was a maid in his own house, chasing Sophie after she said no etc. And Violet helped him marry her. but at least he faces some sort of consequences for his problematic actions and ends his book learning from the experience.

Daphne conned the ton, her friends and family into thinking she was with Simon, but was that really super scandalous? She did marry him. Her problematic actions more or less. involved giving Violet grandchildren, so I'm pretty sure she'd get a free pass.

Anthony's almost scandalous action was trying to duel Simon, in his book he kissed Kate twice before marriage, and put his face on her boob, but that happened in Aubrey Hall, away from London and the ton, so minimum scandal there, plus he married Kate within a week.

Colin, he just kissed Penelope once, acted like a angry lovesick idiot and later seduced Penelope in a carriage outside her house with her whole family inside and sure he married Lady Whistledown, which counts as pretty scandalous. But we're talking about Colin's actions not Penelope's

Eloise well, she ran away from home and spent a week unchaperoned in the house of a widowed bachelor who had two children. It does sound pretty bad, But it was a house in the country, not in London and it was close to the house of her very married brother. How scandalous can that be if it got out?. She probably did worry Violet a lot so let's say Eloise comes second to Benedict.

Francesca. Has done nothing scandalous ever. Her mother even acknowledges that Francesca is the best at covering her tracks. If what she did in Scotland with Michael was published in Lady Whistledown, not even her mother would believe it. But for the record an unmarried widow having a wild rendezvous in Scotland with a rake does sound like a juicy scandal right up Pen's alley

We can leave Gregory out because of the whole 'roping his entire family into crashing a wedding' and facing no consequences for it, is really something else. Maybe by the time Violet got to Gregory and Hyacinth she'd just seen so much she was okay with turning a blind eye to all their crazy.

But let's get back to Hyacinth, shall we review the ammount of times Hyacinth broke into the quarters of an unmarried gentleman, in London, during the social season? She also bribed her maid into leaving her alone with said gentleman for unknown purposes, and let's not forget the whole trapsizing around London at different hours of the day without an appropriate chaperone just for funsies. During the social s.e.a.s.o.n Because if that got out it would definitely be a big scandal. Also Hyacinth is right up there with Benedict in the scandal of not respecting their love interest's privacy. But unlike Benedict, Hyacinth never faces consequences. She gets to stay exactly as comfortable as she was before she got married

Yes Hyacinth's family treats her like a child and yes her mother assumes everything is her fault, because to be fair when her siblings have marital troubles it's usually their fault. But Hyacinth does act like the world owes her something and disregards people's feelings quite often, if I were her parent I'd also be concerned about her.

Sometimes I wonder if it was really Gareth who didn't want to confide his feelings about his father to Hyacinth or if it was that she'd never given him any indication that she was going to be kind and understanding about the issue.

In that part I think maybe they were both at fault in their relationship problems.

He wasn't completely honest, yes, but maybe Gareth thought that Hyacinth was going to treat his concerns about his father as light-heartedly as she treated the concerns of everyone else, especially her family. And maybe Hyacinth expected Gareth to open up about his feelings completely because if he loved her he would be honest with her.

That just sounds like a two way problem to me. And while I don't agree with how Violet handled it, I can't help but think she might have been a little bit right.