#And to have like. Less and less each time makes me wonder if I'm doing something Wrong you know.

[sheeple]

Part two to this. This series also has a title now: John has liked your photo! Hope you enjoy this as much as last time. Does it also show how little I know about kissing?

The second time you and John see each other in a cafe in the city centre. This time it's you who suggests meeting up. It made John feel giddy and like a schoolboy again when your text lit up his phone screen.

Your anxiousness made you way too early — as usual. But not too soon after, John appears in the cafe, also way too early. It makes you giggle.

"What is your go-to coffee order?", you ask while waiting in line, eyeing the menu and the delicious-looking pastries.

John hums, his hands clasped behind his back. "I hate to disappoint you, doll, but I'm a black coffee guy. Or tea."

Turning towards him with your eyes wide, not knowing if it is because of the nickname or the confession to drink coffee with nothing in it. "Not even some milk?"

He shakes his head with a smile. "None. If I'm in shipped out I'm happy to get a cuppa so I got used to the stuff raw."

Now you feel stupid for your usual very sweet coffee order. John sees the subtility in your face and he bumps his shoulder against yours. "Well, you are what you eat. So no wonder you're so sweet."

It makes your face heat up and you stumble over your words, not sure how to get out a response.

The line quickly moves along and John orders his black coffee and you your white chocolate mocha. Before he has time to grab his wallet, you've whipped out your phone and paid for it. You give him a daring smile while giving your name.

The two of you go sit in a quiet corner and wait for the coffee to arrive. You are telling some story about what has happened at work this week and halfway your name gets called out. John holds out his hand so you can stay put, and he grabs the order.

"Sorry, go on", he says with a smile when he returns with the coffees, placing yours in front of you with the ear facing your dominant hand.

"So", you say after finishing your story, "we haven't really talked about what we seek. You know... with dating and such." You nervously trace the rim of the glass, glancing up at the man.

John's leaning relaxed back into the chair, his legs spread wide and a comfortable smile on his face. "Gauging the vibe, doll?"

You can't help but feel your cheeks heat up again as you slink slightly down. "Maybe. Wouldn't want to waste your time if you want something completely different than me." You shrug, trying to play it cool.

That makes him lean forward a bit. "You sayin' that your time's less valuable than mine?"

That leaves you gaping like a fish. And it makes John crack a cheeky smile, showing he's teasing you.

"So do I have to worry about crazy exes or something?", he asks with a smile.

You shrug, putting your hair behind your ear. "Don't have to worry about something that's never been there", you say casually, taking a sip of your drink.

John's eyes bulge out of their sockets. Did he hear you correctly? Have you never dated anyone? How could such a wonder as you not have boys and men lined up and down the street, jumping for just a glance from you?

"Do I?", you ask timidly at his wide eyes and no response.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he clears his throat. Now is the time to come clean. "I mean... not like you have to worry about her, but there is my ex-wife."

"Wife?!" You clasp a hand over your mouth as you said that a bit too loud. "A-and for how long are you divorced? If I may ask, at least."

John smiles at your bashfulness. "Almost two years. We were married just short of a year. It was impulsive and I quickly discovered that being married to her wasn't as great as I thought it would be."

Unconsciously, you reach out and take hold of his hand. You can understand how hard it is to admit something like that to practically a stranger. "It must have been hard, going through that time in your life. Never mind the judgement of others."

He nods. "Something like that. It was more of the pitying glances of my family and their comments that got me at first. Their opinions about her and me and our relationship weren't always the kindest. But you get used to it and after a while, you get desensitized."

As you open your mouth to say something, a call of your name makes the two of you turn your heads. "Oh lord", you mumble as your aunt and cousin come walking towards the two of you.

"How are you, dear? " your aunt smiles widely, pulling you up for a hug. "I haven't seen you in a while! How's school? Oh, right. Your mum told me you quit and are working now. How do you like it? And who is this?" She turns her attention towards John.

The man dutiful stands up and offers his hand to your aunt. "John Price, ma'am."

From behind your aunt, you see your cousin lean over and mouth the words, "Who's that?", to you. "Date", you mouth back. She checks him once over and nods in appreciation.

"Oh mum, didn't you say you needed to go to that one store before it closes?", asks your cousin loudly, pulling the attention from your aunt.

"Right! It was lovely meeting you, John. See you next time, dear." Your aunt kisses both your cheeks as a goodbye before pulling her daughter behind her. You just know you'll get a text from her later on to demand the tea.

"I am so sorry", you laugh as you sit back down, hiding your face behind your hands.

John joins you and shakes his hands. "It's fine. Aunts are kinda my speciality."

"Really?"

"No", he smiles.

The rest of the afternoon goes by with smiles and laughs and good conversation until the staff has to, again like last time, kick you out and you're reluctant to say goodbye to John.

He walked to your car. It cracked him up to see the bright yellow car that lights up when you press the unlock button. Oh, how fitting of you to drive such an eyesore.

You hoover by the door, fiddling with your keys. "I had a really good time today, John." You shyly look up, your cheeks radiating heat.

John slowly inches closer, laying a hand on your cheek. "I did too." His eyes flicker between your own and your lips. You can't help but swipe your tongue over your bottom lip before taking it between your teeth.

"I desperately wanted to kiss you all day. Can I kiss you?"

Looking at him, you nod, searching for the right words. Stumbling out a 'yeah', John closes the distance and lightly presses his lips against yours.

Not knowing what to do, you lean into the kiss and close your eyes. John slides his other hand around your middle to pull you flush against his body. Your hands feel awkward so you replicate what you've seen over the years in movies and TV and place them first on his shoulders before sliding to the back of his neck.

A soft grumble comes from deep within his chest before you pull back, feeling like you are going to pass out if you don't. Either from the lack of air or your first-ever kiss.

Smiling wide, John rests his forehead against yours. "How am I to drive away from you now, doll."

You shrug, still slightly out of breath. "I'm wondering that myself." A giggle escapes you, licking your lips. "But I really have to go through... My parents are waiting for me. We're going to my grandma..."

"Those blasted parents of yours", teases John, letting go of you. "But if you have to go. Text me when you get home safe?"

You nod, opening your car door. "Will do. You too?"

John nods with a smile and watches how you drive away. Dear God. Is he crazy that he could envision the rest of his life together with you after the second date?

[theladyofshalott1989]

"It's Me, Hi, I'm the Problem, It's Me" // An Ominis Gaunt/Phineas Black II & Sebastian Sallow/Damien Evans One-Shot

For @mscostac <3

If you haven't read her wonderful fic "Take Me to the Lakes (I Hate It Here)", WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GO. I'll wait.

Summary: Sebastian somehow managed to land a double date with another universe’s Ominis and his partner, Phineas. How? Damien, of course. Phineas and Ominis simply adored Damien. But why did they hate Sebastian so much? He’s determined to find out.

Or, Sebastian makes a fool of himself, all in the name of satisfying his curiosity. Anti-hero? More like anti-finesse.

Word Count: 2,790

[ AO3 Link ]

This version of Ominis didn’t like him for some reason, which was truly a shame because Sebastian quite liked his partner, Phineas Black. No, not that Phineas Black. The headmaster’s son, in fact. Yes, that one. 

Not that Phineas liked Sebastian all that much either. They both seemed to adore Damien though. It was the little things. 

Speaking of Damien, where in Merlin’s name was he? Sebastian pulled his pocket watch out of his robe and glanced at the time. Damien should have been here fifteen minutes ago! He sighed. That was, frankly, on Sebastian. He should have told Damien an earlier time to ensure he wouldn’t be late.

Phineas and Ominis were chatting amongst themselves on the sofa in the communal Undercroft, the one that served as a portal between the various universes. Yes, that was a thing that had been established last year. It was all very timey-wimey, and not something that Sebastian really wanted to think about right now. 

Phineas and Ominis though… What sort of scheme were they up to? Sebastian hadn’t the foggiest idea, but it nagged at him. 

Even though they seemed to barely tolerate him, Phineas and Ominis had agreed to go on a double date with Sebastian and Damien today. To be perfectly honest, Sebastian had been somewhat hesitant to agree to the idea, mainly because he found Ominis and Phineas’s relationship a tad bit confusing. It was far less established than Sebastian and Damien’s, likely because in their universe it seemed that the wizarding world wasn’t as accepting of same-sex relationships. At least from what Sebastian could tell. But Sebastian digressed.

They were whispering again, probably about him. You know what? Sebastian was going to address the Erumpent in the room. 

“Hey!” he said, interrupting the two lovebirds’ secret plotting. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Ominis’s mouth formed a straight line. He… glared? No, not exactly. Obviously. But the sentiment conveyed was certainly one of deep loathing. Phineas brought his hand to his mouth, presumably to hide a chuckle. Oh yes, he was definitely laughing. The telltale eye crinkle gave it away. 

“Hate is a very strong word,” Ominis said.

Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s accurate though, right?” 

“Oh yes, it’s quite accurate.” 

“I thought so.” 

Phineas placed a hand on Ominis’s thigh, patted it lightly, then said, “Ominis—”

“Don’t worry, Phineas. I’m not going to tell him why.”

“What? Why not?” Sebastian scoffed, miffed but also taken aback. That seemed rather unfair. It wasn’t like he’d known either of them long enough to invoke such animosity. At least, he assumed. 

“Who knows what divulging that sort of information would do to our various universes,” Ominis stated.

“We’re here, fraternizing with each other,” Sebastian said. “I’m quite certain it would be fine.”

Ominis hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, fine. You caught me out. I don’t really care. I just don’t think you deserve to know."

“Bash doesn’t deserve to know what?” Damien said, ducking under the gate leading into the Undercroft as it creaked open. He never waited for it to open fully before entering. Most likely because he was always rushing to meet up with people on account of his habitual tardiness.

Phineas laughed. “I’ll never get used to you calling him ‘Bash.’”

“Why? It suits him.” 

“Maybe it suits your Sebastian,” Phineas replied, removing his hand from Ominis’s thigh and waving it in the air in a nonchalant manner, “but certainly not ours.”

Damien was only half listening as he had leapt over to Sebastian and drawn him in for a deep kiss, even going so far as to dip him slightly. Sebastian would have protested if he hadn’t been struck dumb by Damien’s enthusiasm. Instead, he surrendered to the kiss, totally and fully. Damien had a tendency to make him more compliant than usual. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. 

When he’d recovered, and adjusted his trousers accordingly, as they were, erm, rather tight and uncomfortable now, Sebastian said, “Someone’s in a good mood.” “Damien’s always in a good mood,” Phineas piped back in, jumping up from his spot on the sofa. “That’s why we like him so much. Well, one of many reasons.” 

As Damien’s cheeks flushed, Ominis added, “He also doesn’t pester us with asinine questions.” 

Ominis then followed Phineas’s lead, just slower and more deliberately, wiping ash off his robes, since earlier Phineas and Ominis had been smoking. 

Sebastian always found that fascinating to watch. He might have asked to “borrow” a cigarette, to give it a go, if he knew they wouldn’t turn him down outright. He vaguely wondered if Damien would find Sebastian smoking alluring. Come to think of it, probably not. Damien had a fondness for the outdoors: fresh air, the fragrance of blooming flowers, all the simple pleasures nature offered. Not that Sebastian felt the need to always please Damien. No, of course not! He was his own man. 

“Earth to Sebastian,” Ominis said, stepping toward the exit. “Phineas asked you a question.”

“Oh!” Sebastian stammered as Damien chuckled beside him. “I missed it. Mind repeating that?”

Phineas grinned. “I wanted to know if you’re always this besotted. It might convince me to like you more, in fact.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to offer a barbed retort, then closed it, then opened it again. How was one supposed to respond to that? Was it an insult or a compliment? A little bit of both?

Damien answered for him. “Sebastian may not admit it, but he’s very romantic.” 

“Am I?” Damien grabbed his hand and squeezed. “You said you loved me first.” 

“I did, didn’t I?” 

“The circumstances weren’t ideal, but yes, you did.” Sebastian laughed nervously. “Well, I’m glad you don’t fault me for the circumstances…”

“Never." Damien squeezed his hand again and pecked the apple of his cheek. Sebastian felt his face grow hot, betraying him.

Ominis and Phineas were silent, their heads tilted to the side, echoing each other in their curiosity. “Care to divulge that story?” Ominis asked. 

“Hm,” Sebastian said, tapping his chin thoughtfully with his free hand. “I think not.” 

“Fine, like I care,” Ominis shot back, sweeping through the now open gate, his robes whipping behind him. 

Sebastian snickered under his breath. Two could play that game. 

Ernie Lark was in top form today. Most likely because Damien had thrown a sack full of Galleons his way, so he was playing every single instrument he owned, which was truly a wonder to behold. How anyone managed to juggle so many, even with magic, was beyond Sebastian’s comprehension. But, to be fair, he didn’t have a talent for music. That was more Damien's forte. 

Sebastian, Damien, Ominis, and Phineas were enjoying tea outside on this brisk spring day at Steepley and Sons Tea Shop. Damien sipped his Earl Grey, hot, with the lightest dusting of sugar and cream, per usual. Sebastian’s tea was also sweet, but much, much more so: six cubes of sugar, no less. He typically forewent cream, but today was the exception. He poured some in right now, distracted by Damien’s hand on his thigh, kneading it gently. So distracted was he that it took him far too long to notice his tea was overflowing and spilling out onto the lace tablecloth. Oops.

Phineas raised a brow, but kept silent. The lack of verbal chastisement was more for Ominis’s sake than Sebastian’s. At least Sebastian assumed. For Ominis and Damien were leaning back in their chairs, their eyes closed, their heads bobbing along with the music, completely enraptured. Damien and Ominis had similar taste in music, it seemed.

Phineas and Sebastian glanced at each other knowingly. Some camaraderie for once; how novel! 

Ernie finished his set. Ominis and Damien came back to life to clap for his stirring performance. Damien was a bit more enthusiastic with his praise. Okay, a lot more. He could be quite energetic when he was in good spirits. Sebastian found it incredibly endearing. He glanced down at his lap to hide his smitten expression. 

But alas, he was too late. Someone had seen. 

“Bash, care to share with the class?” Phineas asked.

“Share what?” Sebastian fidgeted in his chair, then grabbed his tea cup and downed the whole thing in one go. It was a wonder he didn’t choke. 

Ominis took a much smaller sip of his tea, then set it back down on the table delicately. “Up to no good, Sebastian?” Phineas merely chuckled.

“Lies! Lies and slander!” Sebastian retorted. “I was not.” 

“Bash, what were you doing?” Damien interjected, his tone wary. “Not a thing, I assure you! Why is it that I’m always suspected of some underhanded enterprise?”

All three responded in unison:

“You’re a scoundrel, that’s why.” That was Ominis, of course. 

Phineas next: “Don’t ask me! I’m innocent.”

“Well…” Damien! Even Damien! Et tu, Brute? 

Sebastian pouted. “It’s unjust, that’s what it is. Unjust!” 

“Aww, Bash, come here,” Damien said, reaching out for Sebastian with his long arms. 

Sebastian scooched his chair back. “No.”

Damien, however, would not be so easily deterred. With a decisive lean forward, he seized the armrest of Sebastian’s chair and effortlessly tugged him back into place. Then, in his usual manner, he cupped Sebastian’s head in his hands and placed a light kiss upon the tip of his freckled nose. “There. Better?” he inquired. 

Sebastian grumbled. Phineas chuckled as he explained to Ominis what Damien had done, then Ominis, too, burst into hearty laughter. 

Sebastian exhaled in resignation. Well, better to be the butt of everyone’s joke than scorned, or ignored entirely, he supposed. 

Come to think of it… If he could worm his way into Ominis and Phineas’s good graces, perhaps they’d reveal why they held him in such contempt. Yes, yes… He needed to know. And Sebastian would find out, no matter how much of a fool he had to make himself. The things he endured for the sake of knowledge. 

Damn, Damien was already suspicious. Perhaps Sebastian had overplayed his hand. 

“Sebastian,” Damien said, “I can’t exactly stroll through the gardens with your arms draped over my shoulders. What was wrong with merely holding hands again?” 

“I just wanted to be closer to you,” Sebastian tried, kicking himself internally.

Damien shrugged out of Sebastian’s firm hold. “Mhm, a likely story.” He narrowed his eyes. 

This was Ominis and Phineas’s fault! If they were just a bit more romantic with each other, Sebastian’s attempts wouldn’t stand out like a Mandrake being pulled out of a pot in the library. Oh, there was an idea… 

No, Sebastian! Focus! 

Damien must have been thinking along the same lines, as he cleared his throat and said, “Ominis, Phineas, I know it can be difficult to express yourselves when you’re so used to… well, holding back, but truly, there’s no need for that here. You can just be yourselves.” Damien finished with a sympathetic pat on Ominis’s back. 

Sebastian braced himself for Ominis to protest—vehemently, at that—so he was beyond shocked when Ominis simply nodded. Curtly, of course, but still. Then, without a word, Ominis extended his hand for Phineas to take.

Phineas’s eyes widened. He clasped Ominis’s hand without hesitation. As he did so, his face broke out into a stunning smile.

“Thank you, Damien!” Phineas exclaimed. “I knew I liked you.”

Sebastian sighed. He was doing a lot of that today. He didn’t bristle at the undue praise for Damien though. That wouldn’t do. Not if he wanted his plan to pan out.

“So,” he began, drawing out the word longer than he probably should have, but he was thinking, dammit! “Care to explain to me why you dislike me so much now?” Sebastian might be a cunning Slytherin, but impatience, ultimately, won out.

Ominis was about to open his mouth, probably to say no, when the unlikely quartet were interrupted by… Sebastian. Another one, that is. Intriguing.

“Ominis!” 

Ominis swiveled around at the ferocity in the other Sebastian’s tone.

“Where’s Carolyn?” Sebastian’s other self exclaimed, wiping away at a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Had he run all the way here? 

Sebastian inspected his counterpart up and down, then down and up. My, this Sebastian was rather fit, wasn’t he? And tall… How was he so tall? By Salazar’s beard, could he spare an inch or two? It wasn’t like he needed it. Ominis was tall and he somehow even towered above him! 

“How am I supposed to know?” Ominis spat back, dropping Phineas’s hand. Phineas’s face fell. 

The other Sebastian stared at the empty space that now separated the pair. “What are you doing?” he asked, his bushy brown eyebrows raised. 

Sebastian was feeling a bit dizzy. He wasn’t sure he liked seeing his counterpart in this state. He wasn’t sure if he liked seeing his counterpart at all. Especially since he was so dashing. The anger part was also a bit disorienting. He couldn’t recall the last time he was this furious. He certainly had his moments, but that was before Damien, before Anne was cured. 

“Who’s Carolyn?” Damien asked, breaking through Sebastian’s musings. Good question, D. Good question. 

The other Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Damien, and then stumbled back upon spotting Sebastian next to him. Ah, there it was. 

“You’re me,” he said to Sebastian. 

“Ten points to Slytherin,” Sebastian replied. 

For two beats, his counterpart merely stood there, jaw slack. But then, he shook his head, and resumed his interrogation of Ominis, bearing down on him like a troll in a china shop. 

Hah! Sebastian was having a grand time with these similes. 

“Tell me where Carolyn is right now.” 

Ominis huffed indignantly. Phineas’s face was growing redder with each passing second. And then, Phineas burst. “He’s telling the truth, Sallow!” he yelled. “Get over yourself. We don’t know where Carolyn is.”

Sebastian’s curiosity was, officially, piqued. “Is someone going to tell us who Carolyn is—?” He barely got the words out before Damien slapped a hand over his mouth and yanked him backward into a bush of lacewing flies.

Clearly, Damien hadn’t realized what was behind them, as they both promptly toppled backward onto their arses, ending up in a tangled heap of limbs. 

The other Sebastian, Ominis, and Phineas, however, remained oblivious, too absorbed in their shouting match to notice. 

What in Merlin’s name was going on? This was nothing like Sebastian’s usual dynamic with Ominis, although, to be fair, his Ominis was happily dating his twin sister. Maybe Anne had a calming effect on him somehow. If that was the case, Sebastian would have to remember to thank her later.

“Do you think we should say something?” Sebastian whispered into Damien’s ear. 

“No, Bash. I don’t think that would be wise.” Ah, Ravenclaw wisdom. How predictable. 

“Hm, okay. Well, we could, erm, steal a kiss or two… or thirteen? While we wait, that is,” Sebastian suggested, crossing all his (metaphorical) fingers and toes. It did seem like they were going to be waiting a while. 

Damien rolled his eyes. “Yes, Sebastian. Excellent plan. Let’s lock lips while our friends engage in a heated argument right next to us.”

“Your friends, you mean.”

“They’re your friends, too.”

“Hardly! They merely tolerate me. You do know that, don’t you?” 

Damien gave him a pointed look, but he didn’t answer the question. 

Sebastian continued. “It’s the truth, D. They’d rather spend time with you than me. You’re the one they actually like.”

Damien gestured in the direction of the other Sebastian, who stood further down the path, glowering at Ominis and Phineas with his hands on his hips. He was still prattling on about that Carolyn girl. He must really be obsessed with her if he was this fixated on her whereabouts. Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the irony though—he was certainly one to talk, considering he’d been known to kill for Damien. But, of course, that was beside the point.

“What do you expect, Bash? That’s their Sebastian.” Damien shrugged. “Just continue to be yourself and I’m sure they’ll come around. You can be obsessive and dramatic, maybe even a little bit intense sometimes, but you’ve gotten a lot better over the past year or so.” He stared down at his hands. “For some reason,” he added, not glancing back up. 

“Hey,” Sebastian said, bringing his hand to Damien’s chin and lifting his head up. “Thank you.” 

“Thank me? Why?” 

“The reason is you, D. The reason is you. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Damien flushed. “I didn’t want to presume—”

Sebastian cut off his words with a kiss. 

A Sebastian might have been the problem, but it certainly wasn’t him. He was a bundle of joy. Naturally. Carry on. 

[dyns33]

Anything goes

I started another Cooper Howard's story and I'll be honest, it's hard for me to complete it, but I'll do my best !

Y/N had become little Janey Howard's babysitter several months after her parents' divorce.

Before that, her father and mother always found time to take care of her when the other was working, or they would entrust her to their governess.

This was no longer possible for Mr. Howard, who had to pay alimony to his ex-wife, while having a lot of trouble getting new roles because of the rumors surrounding him.

It was said that he was close to the Reds, that he was a traitor, even though he was a war hero, and the face of Vault Tech. He would have used this position and his wife's to obtain information and sell it to the Chinese.

Nothing had been proven, but it could explain the breakup, as well as the time it took to find a good babysitter. Many women were afraid to ring Mr. Howard's doorbell, not wanting their reputation to be tarnished, or wondering if the man had other dark secrets that could put them in danger.

There were also those who wanted to get closer to him to get information that they could sell to journalists, or have their names in celebrity magazines.

Y/N didn't care about all that. She needed a second job to pay her rent, she liked children, was discreet, and hadn't really heard about all these stories before Mr. Howard brought them up during their interviews.

Seeing that she didn't understand at all what he was referring to and that she was a trustworthy person, he was ready to give her the job. But first, Janey also had to validate her.

It was love at first sight with this child. Y/N had already babysat, and she had never met a little girl as cute, as lively and as endearing. She only had to say hello and give her her name for Janey to give her the most beautiful smile in the world, asking if she wanted to play with her and her dog, Roosevelt.

"I would need you on Wednesday afternoons, weekends and sometimes for several days but I will let you know in advance. Does that suit you ?"

"Perfect, Mr. Howard."

"Cooper, please. My father was Mr. Howard. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, I would understand. And if someone bothers you… Tell me."

At first, Y/N thought he was talking about his fans, his detractors, the paparazzi. Indeed, there were quickly new rumors, claiming that they were having an affair. Maybe even before the divorce, when they didn't even know each other at the time.

It took several months for Cooper to admit to her that he was mainly talking about the Vault Tech employees. He had signed a confidentiality agreement, in order to have the right to continue seeing his daughter and so he couldn't say anything concrete, but he knew things. They weren't nice.

"They might contact you." he told her while pouring himself a drink, after going to see the little girl who was sleeping peacefully. "To offer you money to find secrets or to ask you to leave. Being able to take care of Janey is another condition, and they are good at scaring away the babysitters."

"I'm sorry, Cooper. Don't worry, I'm staying. You'd be lost without me, and I love Janey."

"She loves you too." he smiled, looking at her with sparkling eyes, placing his hand on hers.

Since the divorce, he saw few people apart from his daughter, Y/N and people linked to the small jobs he managed to find, minor roles or entertainment at birthday parties.

There were still a few more or less loyal friends. One of them was Sebastian Leslie. Of course, he was also afraid of reprisals, but he had already sold his voice for the dubbing of all the Mr. Handys, ensuring him a pretty fortune.

His visits were rare, but he came with gifts for the prettiest girl in the world, and flowers for the most patient person ever.

"Miss Y/N, of course, who deserves all our respect for being in your presence so often and not having lost her mind yet."

"As always, you are hilarious."

"I've heard things, but now that I see you, wonderful Y/N, I know it's impossible. You can do much better."

"Thanks, Seb." Cooper sighed, patting Y/N on the shoulder in apology for the nonsense.

She didn't mind people thinking they were together. First, because people were stupid. And most of all, because she wouldn't have minded if it were true. She liked Cooper.

Sure, he was a little older than her, but he was charming. Funny, smart, kind. When they were all together with Janey, they sometimes did activities that made them seem like a family.

But she wasn't family. His marriage had had a difficult end, he had trouble paying her some months, and if he wasn't completely depressed yet, it was because he didn't want to lose his daughter.

It was a surprise when Mr. Leslie came knocking on her door, urgently asking her to follow him, without really giving an explanation. Sweating, worried, he mumbled incoherent things, when he wasn't yelling at his driver to go faster.

Still unclear, he took her arm to put a pitboy on her. Y/N had already seen them on television, or worn by well-dressed, very important, rich people.

"If you're asked, my dear, you are my adorable niece, my only heiress, with whom I insist on living the renovation of the world."

"… What ?"

"I know you're not an actress, but I hope that hanging out with the best of us has helped you a bit in this area. You'll have to be convincing, even if I'll be talking most of the time."

"Mr. Leslie…"

"Uncle Seb. Or Bastien."

"I don't understand anything at all, you don't…"

"Listen to me." he said very seriously, squeezing her wrist. "We don't have much time. They're going to blow everything up. I know Barb is going to take measures for her daughter, I know it. I can't do anything for Cooper, but he loves you very much, so this, I can do for him. At least the little girl will have someone sane to take care of her afterwards."

"What the hell are you talking about ?! Where are Cooper and Janey ?!"

All his attempts to calm her down seemed in vain, Sebastien ended up giving her a sedative, with the help of his driver. No doubt she was transported to the shelter while she was sleeping, put in a hibernation box next to her "uncle".

A very nice robot sounding like him was the first thing she saw when she woke up.

He cheerfully announced to her that she had been sleeping for over 200 years, that her uncle had unfortunately passed away, having woken up long before her, but having left a message for her.

"My dear niece, thank you for your patience and your trust. We always hear funny and stupid things these days, like the fact that I can no longer offer you flowers. But they are growing outside, I hear. And a little girl is waiting somewhere. There are fewer eyes when it's dark."

The message wasn't hard to decode. An apology, first, but mostly the assertion that it was possible to get out of the shelter without too much danger, if she waited for the right moment. Apparently, Janey Howard hadn't been placed in Vault 93.

Getting out wasn't that complicated. In fact, Y/N didn't even have to play the secret agent, she asked Mr. Handy, who passed her request to the overseer, who accepted it without resistance. She was able to take food, clothes and a weapon, before leaving, receiving encouragement from everyone, even if they didn't see who she was at all.

In any case, she was one less mouth to feed.

The real problem was surviving outside, and finding Janey. Y/N was not a fighter. She understood that there had been nuclear explosions, that the world was destroyed, now populated by dangerous creatures and unbalanced survivors.

But there were still good people. A woman showed her the way to Los Angeles, or what was left of it. A man advised her to avoid the North, explaining to her what the Raiders and the Deathclaws were.

And a strange couple offered to accompany them, to prevent her from being killed in her sleep or because of the mines.

Well, the young woman offered, smiling and polite, dressed like the inhabitants of the shelter and wearing a pitboy. She seemed genuinely delighted to meet someone like her, murmuring that it would be a change from her grumpy friend.

The said companion clearly did not come from a shelter. The radiation had dug into his skin. Y/N had heard of them, these ghouls. This one wasn't very talkative, his face half hidden by a cowboy hat, staring at her with a strange, almost shocked look.

"Don't pay attention to him, he's not good with people." said the girl whose name was Lucy. "I don't even know his name. We had a rough start, but he's calm now. We're a team !"

"Oh. Okay. Nice to meet you."

Lucy shook her hand. The Ghoul continued to look at her without saying anything, before continuing on his way. For the girl, it was a good sign, he hadn't ordered her to leave or caught her with his lasso.

Since things had changed, Y/N accepted that this could indeed be good news, but she followed them mostly because she didn't really have a choice.

[floral-comet-whump]

slept well!! I was supposed to have a field trip and it got cancelled cause of the weather so I'm not sure what I'm doing now but basically I'm at home. I'm here to do the thing you (fenris) do with destroyer cause it looks rlly fun! my commentary might not his the spot but I'm trying :D

Cyrus wishes to at least have a look around while outside. It would only be a military camp, soldiers walking around, tents set up, maybe some horses on one side. Not a very pleasant nor interesting view.

But at least he would be seeing the sky, and the grass, and people.

AAAAAAAAAAAA IT'S REAL!!! IT'S HAPPENING!!!! this is a really strong start I can already feel the like. yearning

He's not. He's seeing pure black from behind his nullification glasses, being guided by an unrelenting hand on his neck, just above his heavy collar.

yearning!

Not even allowed to feel skin, only the tough material of a glove.

I REMEMBER THAT FROM THE CYRUS & WALENTY RP THINGY!!! that I'm not sure if will be posted but it happened in tumblr dms.

when you asked it there I assumed you were asking cause cyrus can use his magic via any skin contact :0 now I'm wondering if it's that or habit or both...

aaaaaa he's so feared and sad :( I'm gonna read the comfort asks after this. OH can the emoji for the one I sent be changed from 🌺 to ☄️ please?

A strong sensation of nausea hits him when they enter his designed post tent of this campaign. It feels like the protection barriers put around the tents are getting stronger each campaign.

are the protection barriers making him nauseous??

Being on an empty stomach doesn't help, either. Regret fills him from refusing breakfast, but he's sure his stomach wouldn't have kept it down anyway.

ohhh so he's allowed to refuse food??? damn. did wilson also suspect he wouldn't keep it down or is doing things that make him less powerful allowed

"... This is it? The rumors made it look spine-chilling, not... this." A voice from his right side says, a bit far back. Further into the tent, then. Cyrus doesn't recognize the voice, but the words are familiar.

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE LW TROPES OH MY GOD. when. when whenw when the weapon is expected to look scary and is not but WILL be scary... I don't like underestimation much in other stories tho for some reason which is weird. oh well!!!

The gloved hand on his neck squeezes, and he stops after a second of trying to figure out if it was out of frustration or a command to stand still.

No scolding comes, so it must have been a command. Or both.

ohhh :( he makes me sad I'm definitely gonna read the comfort ask

That voice he does recognizes in the very core of his being.

good shit 👍

Cyrus doesn't have time to feel ashamed of the words before a pressure on his neck commands him to kneel down. Even with the knee pads, a mercy not chosen by his handler, the impact hurts a bit.

:( he knelt fast then. man...

"Behave." Is what reaches his ear before the leather gloves are unfastened from his wrists.

oooo did wilson whisper that or say it outright?

Magic wraps around the metal gloves that were beneath the leather ones and bend it open. Cyrus didn't even hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do that. Maybe this gifted doesn't have a handler, he knows there's some free Gifted that serve the military willingly.

ANOTHER GIFTED!!!! also that's rlly interesting how his restraint is tied to another person's magic

Unlike Cyrus.

yeah I know </3 man this is a bunch of info I know cause I've already been exposed to bits of this story but for future newcomers this is probably necessary clarification

He obediently waits with unmoving hands until his handler applies pressure on his head in another silent command. No one speaks as the nullification glasses are unlocked from his bowed head, nor when his half-necrotic fingertips find the floor beneath him.

ugh he's so well trained

It's not grass, it's rocks. He suppresses a disappointed sigh.

I'LL GIVE YOU ALL THE GRASS EVER SWEET LOVELY BOY </3

The metallokinetic does in fact have a handler, and a black eye. He can't see anyone else, they're all behind him for safety.

That black eye must hurt, there's probably more bruises under the clothing, it never stops at just one.

Cyrus shouldn't care that the gifted was hurt. But he did. They deserve someone to care.

aw man :( yeah he really cares like that! it's genuinely remarkable tbh

"You have permission to use your power, Wither." An uncomfortable eagerness blooms in him at the words.

aaaaaaaaa? wilson my beloved he's so cold

"Yes, sir," Cyrus whispers and his collar beeps, its blue lights turning red as magic comes to life under his skin once again.

ooooooo :D I remember wondering why the art of him showed him with blue lines in his collar when he was a threat level red!!! fascinating :3

It took less than a minute for him to spiral into euphoria this time.

the description of the withering magic is amazing and also pretty long so I don't wanna paste it. but man it's good

Faintly, he knew his lips were moving, in that same eerie murmur of always, singing words he couldn't understand, but also couldn't forget. An incantation that breaks the laws of nature. A chant that was never created... only repeated. The echo of something that always existed.

And so he repeats. From the words, waves of withering magic follows the colorful branches and pushes it forward.

going back to this chapter from wilson's pov, you said it's a fan ver of the tangled hurt incantation? "wither and decay, cease this misery. break this earthly chains, and set the spirit free. bend it to my will. steal the sunlight's glow. take their final breath, and let the darkness grow"

A warm mist swirls on his arms pleasantly. Something similar started filling his eyes, and Cyrus's head was pure delight. His chest shudders with a bubbly feeling as a smile grows on his face.

veins in his eyes!! last time they went black taking cyrus out of the euphoria took 3 days 👍 I rember >:3c

Cyrus didn't even know he had made a noise until the collar beeps again with a warning electrical shock. With a flinch, he goes dead quiet.

(from wilson pov chapter) The weapon knows better than to complain or move without being told to, but Handler gives it a warning electrical shock at the almost pouty whimper. It flinches and goes dead quiet.

aaaaaondonfbofnof sobbing he got shocked for whimpering and didn't even realize until it

Cyrus wants to keep using his magic, why can't he? It's so warm and happy-

I remember you mentioned his species is way better suited for warm climates :(

"Mmn?" The order takes a second to click. "Oh... yes, sir..." To speak was hard, his tongue didn't move the okay he wanted it to.

YESSSS THAT WAS THE ORIGINAL INTENT OF THE PROMPT RESPONSE I DID!!! you changed it from "okay" to "yessir" :000

Should he even be speaking, actually? Wilson doesn't usually like him speaking. Did he say "Sir" as he was supposed to? He doesn't think so... but no shock comes. Perhaps he did. It's hard to remember.

you did say this is unreliable narrator! in the wilson pov he still says "okay" so now I'm curious if he did misinterpret his own informal wording to formal wording

The floor seemed to spin beneath Cyrus when he stood up.

the thehthehthe

He still couldn't hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do it, maybe it had been a silent command.

poor metallokinetic whumpee :(

He feels the leather gloves being fastened on his wrists, too, before Mr. Wilson grabs him by the upper nape and guides him out.

oooo so he has gloves on when not working got it got it. leather! I assume it's to avoid skin to skin contact? or his hands are the most effective conduit and the higher-ups don't want him touching anything with his hands?

On the way back, there's no longer any murmuring. Even blinded, he knows everyone is just staring. There's only the sound of heavy steps and the wind slowly bringing the smell of death into the camp.

feared whumpee my beloved

Blindly, he's pushed to sit inside his resting capsule. Oh, that's right, he's at a campaign, his den isn't here... the sad longing only lasts a second.

yeppp you said he's used to being guided blindly in the rp we did. also den??? anyways here's the link to said capsule cause I wanna look at it

The thin mattress is cold, and the restraints are too tight.

!!!! he gets a mattress <:D

Cyrus hates the cold,

ough I know </3 poor baby

Cyrus hates the cold, but it feels so weird, he can't help but giggle. It sounds off, but he can't pinpoint why.

"Quiet," Mr. Wilson scolds sternly, fastening his legs securely inside the capsule. Cyrus flinches and tenses from the upcoming shock that doesn't arrive.

What a silly thing, to flinch from something that didn't even happen. He suppresses another fit of giggles.

>:( wilson when I fucking get you

The pressure building up behind his eyes and neck is getting harder to ignore. His fingers twitch with the need to use his magic again, but the nullification doesn't let him.

oooo is his collar nullifying it? or the gloves? capsule??? I think it's the collar

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Now the shock comes, and Cyrus's flinch is not so funny this time. It wasn't just a warning shock, but he doesn't know why he has been punished. Mr. Wilson doesn't clarify it, either. He's scared of not knowing.

the euphoria narration thing is. so fucking good man. but why'd he get shocked?? this isn't in the wilson pov chapter 😔

The twitches are getting worse. He wants to move. The cold is starting to creep in again, and he wants the warmth back.

someone please give him a blanket istg. I know this is a different kind of cold but can he have a blanket :(

His hands move slowly under the temporarily loose restrictions, trying to relieve some of the painful nervous energy without grabbing Mr. Wilson's attention.

!!! sneaky :0

It doesn't work. His handler always sees everything.

a

also love that. “his handler always sees everything.” !!! love love love that love the sheer amount of fear and expecting danger

"Did I say you could move, Wither?" Cyrus freezes from the gelid tone. His shoulders go up chastened just before a gloved hand fists his hair harshly.

HE'S NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO MOVE WITHOUT PERMISSION??? I mean I expected that but damn. also gloves again. is it a military thing or is this the skin contact thing

That'll form a knot later... he wants to wash up and detangle his hair already, before it gets too bad.

From how harsh Mr. Wilson's grip is, he doesn't think he'll be allowed that so soon.

pfft I love those moments of like. passive caring about everyday stuff in whump. they're funny but then they're not funny

"Stop trying to be sneaky, that's the only warning you'll be given." Cold and firm as always. Frightening as always.

HEY DON'T CALL HIM SNEAKY I DID IT FONDLY >:(

"Yes, sir," Cyrus answers quietly. It's weird how he still feels afraid and sad even when he's feeling giggly and euphoric.

ough.. he's so scared poor baby

He doesn't want to talk, he wants to move.

What weapons want doesn't matter.

HE SAID IT!!! HE SAID THE LW LINE!!!!! HE SAID ITTTTTT

He tries again. "I'm... I won't be sneaky again. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson," he tries. The hand leaves his hair without any further words.

:(

So you can kill more people with it?

No. What? No, no, no-

Your handler stopped you before the euphoria truly took place. Where is your gratitude, you vile thing? Why must others die just so you can smile?

That's not what he wants, he just... he just wants the colors back, the happy feeling of-

Of killing.

The memories of colored forms change. These were people.

People you killed.

D: man I don't even know what to say this is just rlly fuckin good. guilt my beloved

"Are you crashing already?" Comes the distant, cold voice. It takes long seconds for Cyrus to recognize it's Mr. Wilson's.

YEAH I THINK SO!!

Crashing. Yes. Yes, he's crashing, and he's still on war camp, so he doesn't even get his white den-

okay what is the white den?? is it his usual cell with nothing in it?

...swallowing hard. He tastes blood. He knows it's not his.

huh??? how come he didn't get physically close to any of it

Cyrus's back presses against the capsule mattress, and he can barely separate what is real touch and what isn't. Sharp goosebumps run up his arm, his hands are being held, there's a pressure on his chest and a numbness on his left leg.

is this unreality?? eh

"It's euphoric state was pretty fast this time, it was a good timing to retrieve it," Mr. Wilson's out loud thinking reaches his ear along with a faint noise of screams that mustn't be true.

They're true, you're just hearing them too late.

"Today will be easy, then."

Cyrus couldn't disagree more with his handler.

WOW!!! love the logic and treating cyrus like so much of an object wilson can just talk out loud while he's there. also lemme go get a thing from the wilson pov drabble

As always, it's an active effort to not show any discomfort. If Whumpee sensed uneasiness from its handler, then everything would go to shit. This type of weapon needed a constant, firm, and steady structure.

YEAH!!! this. this thing

man. I love cyrus. I love wilson. I have so many feelings about them both... I rlly love handler whumpers those are so neat I love cold whumpers that are professional. wilson has such a presence in this chapter. cyrus is so cute I wanna wrap him in blankets...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ME WHEN HIM ME WHEN HIMMMMM

I loved how this was like. stractured eith the euphoria and conediwn and everything. I also love how despite everything cyrus is still so caring towards others it's so. ough </3

I think that's all I have to say rn pjdondnod I might make a repost with more but probably not

Sweet Creature

Content: magical living weapon, dehumanization, "it" briefly used as pronoun, dangerous whumpee, magical euphoria, shock collar, sensory (visual) deprivation, manhandling, military whump, implied institutionalized whump, magical slavery, heavily implied mass murder, hallucinations.

(chapter 1) | next chapter ->

(Curse of Withering masterpost)

Cyrus wishes to at least have a look around while outside. It would only be a military camp, soldiers walking around, tents set up, maybe some horses on one side. Not a very pleasant nor interesting view.

But at least he would be seeing the sky, and the grass, and people.

He's not. He's seeing pure black from behind his nullification glasses, being guided by an unrelenting hand on his neck, just above his heavy collar. Not even allowed to feel skin, only the tough material of a glove.

Around Cyrus, talk dies down, and muttering comes to life, as he's used to. It never stops making him feel ashamed.

Also not allowed to curl up or hide in any way, he's just dragged forward to keep walking.

A strong sensation of nausea hits him when they enter his designed post tent of this campaign. It feels like the protection barriers put around the tents are getting stronger each campaign.

Being on an empty stomach doesn't help, either. Regret fills him from refusing breakfast, but he's sure his stomach wouldn't have kept it down anyway.

"... This is it? The rumors made it look spine-chilling, not... this." A voice from his right side says, a bit far back. Further into the tent, then. Cyrus doesn't recognize the voice, but the words are familiar.

The gloved hand on his neck squeezes, and he stops after a second of trying to figure out if it was out of frustration or a command to stand still.

No scolding comes, so it must have been a command. Or both.

"Wait until you see it destroying a whole military camp while laughing like a maniac," Mr. Wilson says. That voice he does recognizes in the very core of his being. And by the coldness of it, his handler is audibly used to that question as well.

Cyrus doesn't have time to feel ashamed of the words before a pressure on his neck commands him to kneel down. Even with the knee pads, a mercy not chosen by his handler, the impact hurts a bit.

"Behave." Is what reaches his ear before the leather gloves are unfastened from his wrists.

Magic wraps around the metal gloves that were beneath the leather ones and bend it open. Cyrus didn't even hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do that. Maybe this gifted doesn't have a handler, he knows there's some free Gifted that serve the military willingly.

Unlike Cyrus.

He obediently waits with unmoving hands until his handler applies pressure on his head in another silent command. No one speaks as the nullification glasses are unlocked from his bowed head, nor when his half-necrotic fingertips find the floor beneath him.

It's not grass, it's rocks. He suppresses a disappointed sigh.

Cyrus knows better than to look around or shift from his position, but he's still able to see a bit of the tent's inside. The metallokinetic does in fact have a handler, and a black eye. He can't see anyone else, they're all behind him for safety.

That black eye must hurt, there's probably more bruises under the clothing, it never stops at just one.

Cyrus shouldn't care that the gifted was hurt. But he did. They deserve someone to care.

Mr. Wilson blocks his vision of the gifted by crouching down. The direct, practical delineation of where the enemy camp is sinks into his mind easily as his handler speaks. It's easy to map in his head exactly where he needs to focus on.

"You have permission to use your power, Wither." An uncomfortable eagerness blooms in him at the words.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus whispers and his collar beeps, its blue lights turning red as magic comes to life under his skin once again.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Pain doesn't even register in the sea of feelings building up in his body. The rocks puncturing the palms of his hands aren't nearly enough to ground him, not after years of the magic slowly numbing his nerves.

The tent disappears and all he can see is colors erupting from the blackness, like thousands of little roots travelling through the grass. Ignoring the surrounding life had become easier over the years, and the withering knew to travel until it's closer to the delineated area than to him before branching to reach all soldiers of the other side.

It took less than a minute for him to spiral into euphoria this time.

Faintly, he knew his lips were moving, in that same eerie murmur of always, singing words he couldn't understand, but also couldn't forget. An incantation that breaks the laws of nature. A chant that was never created... only repeated. The echo of something that always existed.

And so he repeats. From the words, waves of withering magic follows the colorful branches and pushes it forward.

His hands crack and dug further into the ground, and he repeats the chant again. Again, again, again...

𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

Cyrus could see, or in a way feel, the life bursting out of the enemy's camp. It was hard to separate what was greenery and what was people, but it didn't matter in the end.

Wither magic fills the entire enemy camp with thousands of black ramifications that only he sees the colors of. Growing, rotting, decaying.

Every cell in his body beams with giddy energy.

A warm mist swirls on his arms pleasantly. Something similar started filling his eyes, and Cyrus's head was pure delight. His chest shudders with a bubbly feeling as a smile grows on his face.

And then everything goes black. The cold, painful reality crashes down on him, harshly taking all the cheerfulness away and leaving behind an itch, a hysteric uneasiness. A faint beeping of his collar tells him he's done today, it had turned blue again.

Cyrus didn't even know he had made a noise until the collar beeps again with a warning electrical shock. With a flinch, he goes dead quiet. An argument was happening over his head.

Cyrus wants to keep using his magic, why can't he? It's so warm and happy-

"It was fucking smiling, it is fine to keep on! What is the point of having a weapon that can't be used?!" A man behind him almost yells. Not the same one from before, a slightly more familiar one. It might be the general, but without seeing it's hard to be sure.

Yes, Cyrus was fine to keep going, he was! It's been less than a minute with the nullification glasses back on, but he misses the colorful cheerfulness already, his body is taut with the need to move, to do something, anything.

But Mr. Wilson is right there, so he stays obediently still.

"I'm not telling it to launch an attack again! The magic would consume it's head and-" Mr. Wilson pauses, and Cyrus recognizes his temper rising. It's an effort not to flinch. "Ugh, you have no idea how bad it gets. Wither. Up, we're leaving."

"Mmn?" The order takes a second to click. "Oh... yes, sir..." To speak was hard, his tongue didn't move the okay he wanted it to. Cyrus could hear the ecstatic smile on his own voice, and he almost winces at it, but without knowing why. To smile was good, wasn't it?

Should he even be speaking, actually? Wilson doesn't usually like him speaking. Did he say "Sir" as he was supposed to? He doesn't think so... but no shock comes. Perhaps he did. It's hard to remember.

The floor seemed to spin beneath Cyrus when he stood up.

A gloved grip squeezes his arm and Cyrus knows to stay completely still, despite the dizziness. Magic envelops his hands as the metal gloves are bent to fit them again. He still couldn't hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do it, maybe it had been a silent command.

He feels the leather gloves being fastened on his wrists, too, before Mr. Wilson grabs him by the upper nape and guides him out. The sound of many boots around them tells him the escort team is here already.

On the way back, there's no longer any murmuring. Even blinded, he knows everyone is just staring. There's only the sound of heavy steps and the wind slowly bringing the smell of death into the camp.

The heavy metal door shuts with the escort team outside, and the only steps that echo inside the container are his and Mr. Wilson.

Blindly, he's pushed to sit inside his resting capsule. Oh, that's right, he's at a campaign, his den isn't here... the sad longing only lasts a second.

The thin mattress is cold, and the restraints are too tight. Cyrus hates the cold, but it feels so weird, he can't help but giggle. It sounds off, but he can't pinpoint why.

"Quiet," Mr. Wilson scolds sternly, fastening his legs securely inside the capsule. Cyrus flinches and tenses from the upcoming shock that doesn't arrive.

What a silly thing, to flinch from something that didn't even happen. He suppresses another fit of giggles.

The pressure building up behind his eyes and neck is getting harder to ignore. His fingers twitch with the need to use his magic again, but the nullification doesn't let him.

The pressure gets worse.

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.

Now the shock comes, and Cyrus's flinch is not so funny this time. It wasn't just a warning shock, but he doesn't know why he has been punished. Mr. Wilson doesn't clarify it, either. He's scared of not knowing.

The twitches are getting worse. He wants to move. The cold is starting to creep in again, and he wants the warmth back.

His hands move slowly under the temporarily loose restrictions, trying to relieve some of the painful nervous energy without grabbing Mr. Wilson's attention.

It doesn't work. His handler always sees everything.

"Did I say you could move, Wither?" Cyrus freezes from the gelid tone. His shoulders go up chastened just before a gloved hand fists his hair harshly. That'll form a knot later... he wants to wash up and detangle his hair already, before it gets too bad.

From how harsh Mr. Wilson's grip is, he doesn't think he'll be allowed that so soon.

"Stop trying to be sneaky, that's the only warning you'll be given." Cold and firm as always. Frightening as always.

"Yes, sir," Cyrus answers quietly. It's weird how he still feels afraid and sad even when he's feeling giggly and euphoric.

Euphoric. Didn't that word mean something important? The headache is getting worse.

Mr. Wilson's grip only grows even more painful. There's more to be said, but Cyrus's head is not working well. He doesn't want to talk, he wants to move.

What weapons want doesn't matter.

He tries again. "I'm... I won't be sneaky again. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson," he tries. The hand leaves his hair without any further words.

The need to move only gets worse in the silent. He knows Mr. Wilson knows. Cyrus's body is so tense it hurts.

He needs to use his magic, he needs to. It hurts, it's bad, he wants the giddy energy back, and not this nervous, restless cold creeping in. Everything is still pitch black, and the restraints are too heavy, and he wants his magic free again-

So you can kill more people with it?

No. What? No, no, no-

Your handler stopped you before the euphoria truly took place. Where is your gratitude, you vile thing? Why must others die just so you can smile?

That's not what he wants, he just... he just wants the colors back, the happy feeling of-

Of killing.

The memories of colored forms change. Those were people.

People you killed.

"Are you crashing already?" Comes the distant, cold voice. It takes long seconds for Cyrus to recognize it's Mr. Wilson's.

Crashing. Yes. Yes, he's crashing, and he's still on war camp, so he doesn't even get his white den-

Images strafe his mind. People died. People were killed. By him. And he was just smiling. He giggled to people losing their lives. Not only soldiers, there were medics, and servants, and-

A cold, sharp thing runs his arm and he flinched away, swallowing hard. He tastes blood. He knows it's not his.

Vile thing. You're a plague on earth that should be eradicated.

Cyrus's back presses against the capsule mattress, and he can barely separate what is real touch and what isn't. Sharp goosebumps run up his arm, his hands are being held, there's a pressure on his chest and a numbness on his left leg.

"It's euphoric state was pretty fast this time, it was a good timing to retrieve it," Mr. Wilson's out loud thinking reaches his ear along with a faint noise of screams that mustn't be true.

They're true, you're just hearing them too late.

"Today will be easy, then."

Cyrus couldn't disagree more with his handler.

-

-

-

Want to see Mr. Wilson's pov? This is the drabble this series began as. You can consider it a loose version of this chapter, but in Mr. Wilson's view.

Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes @bonbonbobomb @inhurtandincomfort @half-duck @scoundrelwithboba

-

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Man if Marcy keeps ending up with like child protection services in all these fics over her parents being slightly distant then my parents should be in JAIL

[takeiteasyonmeimstilllearning]

so help me God, if I see another blog about tiktok being banned I'm gonna (remembering manslaughter is a not polite thing to do) probably go on ao3 and read my blorbos fics then go finish my own fiction until I've finished every last mother fuckin word.

[rahabs]

Every time I post a fic I lose subscribers these days, which is honestly vaguely depressing.

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Danny is Chronos' first child.

Well, not his first child biologically, to be completely honest.

It just so happened that the Phantom very often helped/helps/will help Clockwork at different times and his presence next to the titan required an explanation.

And the opportunity to call Zeus a little brother is worth a lot, right? So when the Ancient came up with this idea Phantom did not resist just to have such a pleasant bonus from their cooperation.

However, in the time of the gods and heroes, such a solution was not a problem. But in modern times, when Phantom tries to attract as little attention as possible in order to graduate from university, such relatives are more likely to cause a lot of problems.

~~~~~

Wonder Woman: Uncle Danny?

Superman, who wanted to chase away a teenager serenely strolling through still smoking battlefield, turns to Wonder Woman, who is waving affably at excactly this guy.

Well, Fenton honestly happened to be in Fawcett City by accident, and it just so happened that by chance it was on this sunny and cloudless day that the villains decided to cause riots worthy of the attention of the founders of the Justice League.

Danny: Diana! My dear, it seems like we really haven't seen each other not for a long time! In what century was it? Ah, I honestly, I barely remember it... The speed at which children grow up defies the laws of time. I mean, look at you! Your mother must be so proud. How's Dad? Still not paying child support, arrogant bastard?

Wonder Woman: Oh, uncle, please. I'm all grown up now, don't worry about me.

Danny: Hm, well, let's get back to this question later. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. Anyway, would you like to introduce them, little princess?

Wonder Woman: Of course, meet Kal El, Batman, and Shazam. The rest of the guys have already returned to our base. Would you like to...

Danny: Ooh, you're talking about, um... What do you young people call it? The Justice League, right? During my youth, the heroes rarely united and mostly performed all the feats alone. It's good that you help each other, kids.

Danny flies up a little to pat Superman and Batman on the head.

Under the Diana's gaze full of hope that they will get along with her uncle, the men do not move.

In the background:

Red Hood and Robin who used to hang out with Danny near the Lazarus pits: *sounds of seagulls dying of laughter*

~~~~~

Flash: So you're Diana's uncle?

Danny: Yes, call me Danny.

Flash: Cool, cool...

Danny: What does the temperature have to do with it? Do you need ice? Let me make some for you.

Flash: No, it's like,um, I didn't know that Zeus has a younger brother with that name. So, it's good to know?

Danny: Hmm, thanks. Many people tell me that I look quite young, hah. But actually I'm his older brother, so...

Flash: Older? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect.

Danny: No, it's all right. It's "cool". I rarely appear on the pages of your human myths and legends, I know it. After all this business about Chronos devours his own children, my father punished me for a long time. So, yeah...It's a funny story.

Flash: Punished for what? How?

Danny: Uh, sitting in a room at a time when there is no Internet or electricity is not fun at all. You see, I just didn't want a younger brother or sister because I was afraid that my parents would pay less attention to me. So, I made up this stupid prophecy and persuaded Gaea to tell it in order to remain the only child in the family. My father would never have thought that I would decide to kill him, that's why...Phah, it's just a bad family story. In 10 thousand years, we'll all laugh about it.

Flash: Yeah, that's... funny.

~~~~

Danny *is woken up by an emergency call from the League at three in the morning, although he fell asleep at two o'clock* (he gave his contact so as not to upset his niece): I knew this would happen! I knew it!

~~~~

Billy Batson *stands in his human form in front of the Justice League and doesn't know what to say*,*sweating nervous*.

Danny *enters the hall*: What's up, mortals, Diana and...Batman? My father said that there is something that I have to be here for. Oh! Well, at least someone in this family is also a shapeshifter. Have you decided to make a younger form so that your uncle doesn't feel lonely? What a good boy! Usually everyone is so afraid to seem like children, once they turn a couple of centuries old. Ah, youth~

Billy: Yeah, I decided to..experiment? and it seems I got stuck by accident.

Danny: It's okay, Uncle Danny will help you. Come on, let's go...

~~~~

Danny *teleports them to the Fawcett City*.

Billy: ....

Danny:

Billy: Hey, I'm still stuck!

A new portal opens and a man in a purple cape hands Billy a note. "Go to Constantine. P.S., my son always completes all assignments only by half, sorry." written on it.

Billy: Oh... OoOhHh!!!

~~~~

Meanwhile, Constantine, who is forced to do additional work: Son of a bi... beloved and respected Master of Time.

Danny: Yeap, that's me.

Constantine: Damn it. Couldn't you just let Batman adopt him like in other timelines?

Danny: And where's the fun in that?

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[hexescore]

oh and by the way, i love you.

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, sevika, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: first 'i love you's with (character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. pre-established relationship (caitlyn, jinx, mel, viktor). friends-to-lovers (ekko, jayce, sevika, vi).

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

It's quiet, the early morning blessing you both with a peaceful silence that allows you two to truly appreciate the sight in front of you— each other. Caitlyn enjoys moments like this, waking up with you, getting to see the way the rising sun filters through her curtains to cast a golden glow across your skin.

Her hand, which is in yours, gives a gentle squeeze. You give her a sleepy smile, and she chuckles as she leans in to press a quick peck to your lips, and then another, and another, before you're both shuffling together, closer. Legs and arms entangled, a slowness in you both knowing that neither of you have to leave anytime soon.

"You know," She whispers, her eyes shut. She had imagined how she'd say this a million times, wondered when it'd be the right time, but Caitlyn quickly realizes that perhaps the right time is the time she makes to say it. So she makes the time. "I love you."

Your heart skips a beat, and you pull away to look at her. Her eyes open, and you can see the panic flashing in her eyes- was it too soon? did she get confused? had she-

"I love you, too." Her tense form immediately relaxes again, and she buries her head into your neck, shaking her head as she lets out a breathless laugh. You laugh along with her, both of you feeling nerves and excitement at those words.

"Don't scare me like that," she whines against your skin. Indulging this rare side of Caitlyn, you gently pat her back, cooing at her.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry, won't happen again." You'll definitely respond faster next time!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

EKKO

Ekko had been acting quite strange as of late, and had you been any less keen you'd just assume he was busy- but this was different, he was most definitely avoiding you! Which is why you devised a plan to corner him and get to the bottom of this whole situation.

It was like any other day, except you had been lying in wait. Waiting, and waiting, until he was finally alone. You continued to follow him to a secluded area. "Ekko." He tensed up, but recovered quickly as he turned to glance at you.

"Oh, uh, hey, what's up?" Was he serious? You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a pointed look. Ekko's guilty conscious is clear as day when it comes to you, from the way his Adam's apple bobs to the way his fist clench and unclench. You frown.

"Ekko..." He doesn't say anything. "Alright, I'll ask it. Why have you been avoiding me?" He falters, looking ashamed. He knew it was wrong to avoid you, but when he came to realize how intense his emotions were for you it freaked him out. He hadn't... He didn't mean to... well, fall in love, during such a time.

The silence is heavy, and you debate just leaving, before Ekko clears his throat. "There are things that I've been meaning to tell ya... I'm just having a hard time finding the words..." He scratches the back of his neck.

"Like?" You press, needing to know what has been so hard to say that he's been avoiding you.

"Like... I love you?"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JAYCE TALIS

"Jayce? What are you doing?" Jayce, with his hand respectfully on your lower back, guides you away from the boring and artificial conversations of Piltover's finest. He excuses you both, much to your dismay. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere private," He says through a tense smile. You soon find yourself down the hall, away from the party but still able to hear it's chatter. It seems Jayce hadn't prepared for what comes after he got you away from those flirty elites.

"Well?" You ask, head tilted in a questioning way. "Are you going to explain why you so rudely pulled me away? I was about to get some nice funding for your-" Jayce cuts you off, desperation rolling off of him in waves.

"Because I love you," He says, "And I can't stand to see them look at you, touch you-" He stops to take a deep breath before he gets himself too worked up. "Look, I know... I know you probably don't feel the same, and I understand if you don't, but-"

"Jayce," You call once, and like an obedient dog he stops everything he's doing. Instead he waits, hanging on to your words. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you pull him into a kiss. It's needy, filled with want and love and passion. Until you can't breath, you wait until you can't breathe to pull away, and look him in the eyes.

"I love you."

For the first time that night, Jayce's lips curl into a genuine smile. It's so bright and warm you get weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach.

"Can we ditch the party now?"

"Oh definitely."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JINX

"Wrench!" Jinx calls dramatically, hand stuck out and awaiting her tool- which you promptly hand to her, repeating her words 'wrench.' She giggles as she grasps the wrench and twists a few bolts on her latest invention.

When she finishes, she takes in inhale of breath, ready to shout the next tool she needs, but already in her hand is a can of spray paint. She blinks a few times- how did you know? She grins, looking back at you, before looking at the can of spray paint.

"This is why I love you, ya know that?" She says, not really processing the words until you say them back to her.

"You... You love me?" The shock is evident in your voice. It's not that Jinx hasn't shown her love, her affections, for you, but this is the first time she's vocalized them and it has your heart hammering in your chest. She blinks a few times, lifting her goggles to rest on top her head.

"I did say that, didn't I?" She says, more to herself than to you. She then looks you in the eyes, that sparkle in them has your throat tightening up. "Yeah, I love you." You try to speak, truly, but you can't get a word out. "Jeez, is it that surprising, thought it was obvious?"

"No, it's just-" You finally manage to speak. Actually, you finally manage to get a good look at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed, she's fiddling with her tools, she's nervous- she's vulnerable- and you feel a protective instinct come on. "I love you, too- I really, really love you."

She laughs nervously, turning away from you. That's enough emotional vulnerability she's willing to share today. "Yeah, yeah, let's not get too mushy, 'kay?" You don't push it, instead nodding along. "Uh, anyways... Hand me that wrench again...!"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

MEL MEDARDA

"You don't have to say it back," Mel Medarda has always been diplomatic, even in your relationship. She's also always been rather guarded, keeping all her cards close to her chest- but she allows you from time-to-time to catch a peak behind her walls. "I just wanted to let you know. I... I love you."

Undoubtedly, you love her back. You've loved her from the moment she smiled at you- Mel was hard not to love. Which is why you're having a hard time responding, because how could you even possibly begin to explain just how much you love her?

Mel begins to grow withdrawn, those small anxieties nipping away at her mind. Did you not feel the same way? Had she embarrassed herself with her little display? Did she ruin this relationship in one phrase? She takes a step away from you, wondering if she should take her leave.

Thankfully before than can happen, you've caught her wrist and meet her eyes.

"I love you, too." A breath of relief leaves you both. "Mel, I... I can't even begin to explain, I mean, it's just that you... god, you, you definitely deserve a better response than this mess but, I mean it, truly. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I'll always- I'll always love you."

"Darling..." Mel started to feel flustered, your earnest rambling getting her cool and collected persona to crack a little. "I get it."

"Right, sorr-" Before you can apologize for your cute, anxious rambling, Mel shuts you up with a kiss. Something that symbolizes that you both understand just how much you both mean to each other.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

SEVIKA

Sevika can't help but crack a smile at your antics sometimes. She's watching you with a close eye as you dance in an exaggerated way, being goofy in a way that's so very rare in the undercity. She shakes her head as you sit in the seat across from her, wiggling your brows. "Dance with me?"

"Not a chance in hell." She snorts, "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me." Sevika takes a drink, not noticing what she said. You, on the other hand, have gone still. "What's wrong with you now?" She asks, already exasperated.

"You love me?"

"What're you-... Shit." She definitely didn't mean to say that, but now that it's out there, she might as well commit. She downs the rest of her drink, clears her throat, and looks away from you.

"And if I do? Would that be a problem?"

"Not at all- I love you, too!" Your enthusiasm has her taken aback once more. She looks at you incredulously, searching your face for any sign of lying or messing with her. She finds nothing but genuine love. Shit, shit, shit. Sevika was so totally unsure on how to handle this.

"You love me, huh?" When you nod, eagerly, Sevika bites her cheek. Well... She supposes if it's you, she could try and give it a shot. "I guess, yeah, I do love you... so... what're we gonna do about that?"

You had a few ideas.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VIKTOR

"Yes, yes, I understand." Viktor says as he wraps the scarf you gifted him around his neck. "I'll be back tonight for dinner, not to worry." You don't really believe him when he says that, still you help him zip up his winter coat.

"If you're not," You say, taking a step closer, your lips hovering over his. "I'll personally drag you back here." Your lips meet his and he hums into the kiss, pulling away with a small smile.

"I'll be here." You just hum dismissively. You'll believe when you see it. He rolls his eyes at your sass, opening the door and stepping out. "Alright, I'll see you then. Goodbye, I love you." He closes the door, and just as quickly he's trying to pry it back open.

You're laughing your ass off on the other side of the door whilst Viktor's ears turn red. "Dear, please, open the door, I forgot my keys... and I need to say those words properly..." he groans, his head resting against the door. After a few seconds, the clicks unlock and it opens to reveal you, tears in your eyes from laughing.

"This is not funny."

"It's a little funny." You tease, handing Viktor his keys. "I lov-"

"Wait," He halts you. "Let me... Let me say it properly." His blush moves from his ears to his cheeks. He takes your hand and presses a sweet kiss to it, looking up at you through his lashes. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Viktor."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VI

You're patching her up after a particularly brutal beating. Her job, these missions, can get pretty violent, and it's always up to you to heal her wounds. 'I don't trust any other doctor,' she explains before you inform her that you are not a doctor. Despite that she still finds you after every fight she gets herself in.

You sigh, cleaning a nasty cut on her face. "You've got to be more careful." You tsk, reveling in the way she hisses at the disinfectant. It's what she deserves after scaring you to death all these times.

"Worried 'bout my pretty face?" You scoff, rolling your eyes at her.

"More like your brain- I'm afraid you can't afford to lose anymore braincells." She laughs at your snark. She likes that about you, likes everything about you, actually. Her hands find your waist, pulling you closer to her. You huff, pulling back to get a better look at her wounds.

"Hey," Vi calls, and you just hum in response. "I love you." You freeze, before looking down at her with wide eyes.

"Did you actually get brain damage-" She bites back another laugh, shaking her head. "Vi...?"

"I love you. Have for a while, so no, this isn't a brain damage confession." Oh. You falter for a second, hands shaky as you finish placing the band-aid on her cheek.

"If you're messing with me-"

"I'm not." She insists, earnest in her affections. "So... Do you-"

"Yes." You mumble, turning your face to hide it from her. "I... Love you, too, Violet."

[space-blue]

Disappointed in the Vander backstory

I fully expected that it was coming, but I'm disappointed in the timeline all the same.

The "Vander got upset because a fight against Piltover Silco instigated killed the woman he loved" was literally my first draft for my longfic Fathers and Daughters, and I ended up scrapping it because I felt it was too cheap and wouldn't justify the violence of his actions against Silco.

"When she died I lost my head" he says in the letter.

But when she died you actually dropped your gauntlets and picked up the girls and everyone has been assuming this was the moment you swore off violence...

The fact she goes on to let Vander name her kid, and seems to be thick as thieves with them, and ALSO tells them of the pregnancy before she builds up the courage to tell her partner... Tells me that surely... SURELY by the time Vi is 10-11, whatever she is on the bridge in season 1, she would KNOW SILCO as her mom's bestie, no??? Not just Vander.

It feels like this entire angle is pulled under the rug to simplify the conflict in act 1.

I do appreciate being right on the money with Silco knowing and being friends with the mom, and having known Vi as a baby. I think it makes sense, especially if he was an important community leader.

I just hate her death being the catalyst of Vander's actions against Silco. It means that the timeline actually like this:

Mom-Silco-Vander are best friends. Silco is "Bozo 1" and has been leading the transformation of the Lanes with Vander's help. He's already planning his nation of Zaun. His notebook is literally saying "NZ" for Nation of Zaun.

At an ONGOING confrontation with enforcers, Silco throws a molotov cocktails that doesn't seem to even kill an enforcer (Powder and her innefectual bombs parallel? The entire scene is intercut with the monkey bomb clapping so... The scene leading to a friend's death also parallels the events of Jinx's birth.)

As the smoke clears/the POV looks down, we have the reveal that the girls' Mom is dead.

Vander admits the blood was on his hands as well, meaning he either started this confrontation with Silco, or fought just as badly/increased the violence (and we see him murder enforcers later on). Anyway he admits to carrying the blame, and apologized in person to Silco for the dubbed "betrayal".

Then he went home, shaved, dragged Silco into the Pilt, and tried to drown him *because their common friend died at the failed uprising*.

He's then haunted, seemingly, by visions of Silco being dead:

To me it's sort of weaker and sadder, as it establishes Vander as someone more flawed and less ruthless. It's not that he wanted the Lanes, it's not that Silco was getting in the way of what he wanted.

Vander was out there happy with everything they were dishing out, right until their actions cost the life of a friend, and he broke, emotionally, and BLAMED it on Silco, going so far as to kill him (or try).

He surrendered his gauntlets, picked the children up, tucked them in at home, shaved (I cannot stress this enough), then took Silco into the fucking river and brutally attempted to murder him.

Then he massively regretted it and left little breadcrumbs of apologies in case Silco found them and returned to him.

So, canon couple, first off lol

Fellas, is it gay to hang your jackets inside each other's in your secret hideout? Is it gay that all your core hidden memories begin with your mate smiling at you?

Yes, yes it is. Zaundad is canon and I'm not taking commentary.

Secondly, that means Vander was an emotional ticking time bomb who wasn't ready for the price to sacrifice in order to gain their freedom. I really wonder what the alternative reality would have been like, were Silco the one dying on that bridge.

Anyway, it brings some twisted sadness to the situation, because the mom wanted Zaun "no matter what" for Vi's sake, her child's future. But Vander decided that lives weren't worth spilling over that dream and tried to kill Silco over it, before teaming up with Grayson to continue enforcing a status quo.

So that means that Silco, even as he raises Jinx, is continuing her mother's dream, of building Zaun, a country that's safe for her children, "no matter what".

But very sadly the show also acts like Silco doesn't know the kids, and like the kids don't know him. Powder, sure, but Vi not knowing Silco is just downright stupid. Not even knowing him by name? When her mom was out fighting alongside him??? The mom is ALSO a miner, very clearly working with Silco and Vander, alongside the nameless poor husband.

I feel like this doesn't really solve the issues that were already raised when we speculated about act 1. It just clarifies that Vander was truly, willfully a force of oppression inside the fissures, working against the revolution necessary for Zaun becoming possible.

But it implies Silco didn't recognise Powder and Vi, and that Vi didn't recognise him or understand how he knew Vander. It's a disservice to the story, because that tie, that old bond, could really have worked to dramatize the sacrifices Silco is ready to make, as well as the depth of Vi's hatred for him.

But the show acts like they're strangers and that Vander's death is the core beef between them until Jinx enters the picture.

And then there's the Benzo scene, when Vander holds his wound from Silco's knife, and says "we both know there's worse than enforcers out there" WHO ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT??? Yourself? You seem to be the worst thing around here! It seems clear he knew Silco was alive but had nothing to blame him for by then.

I'm left with holes that take the shape of "shock value" and "plot twist".

"Ooooh Silco knew the mom, twiiiist, but please don't think about the implications, because we wrote season 1 without taking this in consideration."

Feels like another job for fic writers, but IDK if I have the strength for it. I just like my own version better.

At least now we know that Silco did not IN FACT DO anything to "deserve" what he got. I'm sorry, but throwing a molotov at enforcers when fighting for your freedom is based and Vander was dishing death right there next to him.

The base violence necessary for change, eh? Vander just delayed the price being paid for Zaun's creation.

[writingouthere]

bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

[allpiesforourown]

okay anyway time for wangxian fake dating au.. tw for canon typical child abuse

wei ying: haha madame yu doesn't like me and sometimes she hits me but it's okayy I owe the Jiangs a lot :)

Lan Zhan:

Initially it starts as Lan wangji going to family gatherings with wei ying as friends, because Madame Yu wouldn't want to make the Jiang clan look bad by blowing up and cursing in front of a guest from the Lan clan, much less the twin jade of gusu. It works for a while before lan zhan is having dinner with the jiangs and madame yu is making everyone uncomfortable by berating wei wuxian

Lan Zhan interrupting her: actually I do not appreciate you speaking about my fiancee that way

Everyone (including wei ying): WHAT????

for his entire life lan wangji has been going "i don't want to be a prominent figure in the cultivation community, i just want to do good things" and now all of a sudden he's going "did i mention i'm one of the twin jades of gusu and my uncle is the lan sect leader. btw. if you were wondering."

It would be so funny. Madame Yu's hatred and anger immediately jumping to Lan Wangji instead. they would have the CRAZIESTTT beef

madame yu: wei wuxian you-

lan zhan: oh what are you about to say to HANGUANG JUN'S FIANCEE? What are you going to say to MY FUTURE HUSBAND aka the guy who will hold massive power in the lan sect once we're wedded?? just a reminder you can bully your adopted son but insulting a member of the MAIN LAN FAMILY... :))))))

Madame Yu:

wei ying started this whole thing so he could have dinner in peace but the way things were before is NOTHING on the the passive aggressive threats lan wangji and madame yu are hurling at each other

[uncannydevotion]

“ we haven't found one lipstick that's kiss proof! ”

a/n: based on tht one art meme going around iykyk anyways happy holidays, and merry christmas if u celebrate! nd happy day to everyone else! enjoy this lil gift <3 i wanted to get it out today so it might b a little rushed, and definitely shorter than i would like but i still like it so. i'm posting it.

includes: homicidal liu, eyeless jack, jason the toymaker, nina the killer, and jeff the killer.

warnings: gn!reader but it's assumed u wear lipstick, italics my beloved, so much fluff it'll make u sick, lots of kissing. is kiss even a word anymore. it's short, with varying different lengths, and it's sweet this time for real i promise.

HOMICIDAL LIU

Perhaps a bit confused when you ask him to help find some kiss proof lipsticks, but nonetheless willing to help. He just assumes you wanted to go out to a cosmetic store or something to find some.

He's very confused when you drag him over to the couch and tell him to stay put while you gather every tube of lipstick you have.

He's oblivious guys okay you're his first relationship ever how is he supposed to know you're about to smother him to death with kisses?

Liu will be a bit caught off guard when you place the first kiss on his cheek, your lips gentle, mindful of the sensitive skin surrounding his scars.

"What was that for?" He'll ask. And maybe you'll give a cheeky smile and respond with something like, "I'm just testing out my lipstick, babe."

And oh. Oh. That's what you meant when you said you wanted his help.

Liu is nothing if not the greatest boyfriend haver, so even though he gets increasingly more flustered with each kiss you press against his skin, he stays painfully still so as to not interrupt you.

Every time you pressed a kiss against his skin, he'd let out a little sigh. It was rare for him to ever really feel at ease, but it came easy with you.

Sometimes, he wonders if you truly understood the gravity of the love he felt for you.

Each kiss makes his heart race faster and faster, so much so that when you place one last kiss against his lips, he's so overwhelmed by the amount of love he holds for you that Sully thinks he's fucking dying and takes over.

Sully is very confused when he finds that Liu was, in fact, not dying. And you're certainly no help, just smiling and telling him to wash his face off as you clean up.

What.

One look in the mirror gives him the answer he was looking for. His entire face was covered in lipstick stains. This is what had Liu's heart racing so much? Sully really thought he was dying, man.

Turns out the guy is just an idiot in love.

EYELESS JACK

One of the only ones here to really understand what you meant when you asked him for help in finding a kiss proof lipstick, already taking his mask off.

He didn't have anything better to do, and he liked how your eyes lit up when he agreed, so.

He'll sit patiently, watching as you set out all of your lipsticks, setting them out in a color-coded pattern.

Jack will take this very seriously, I think. You won't really be able to get him flustered, because he's determined to figure out if you have any kiss proof lipstick. He's a man on a mission.

Every time you kiss him, he'll pull away from you and look at himself in a mirror to study how visible the stain is. The less he can see it, the better he thinks the lipstick is.

If anything, he'll end up flustering you from the way he'll grab your cheeks and press his thumb against your lip, rubbing the lipstick gently to see how much pressure it takes for it to transfer.

He's not doing this on purpose, he just... doesn't realize the effect he has on you. But between you and me, he's 100% teasing you.

He's the one covered in kisses, and yet you're the one shying away from him and getting all embarrassed. Seems your plan to fluster him backfired.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" You would ask.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're the one who asked for help." Would be his response.

Somehow you end up with more marks on your skin than he does?? Since you get to kiss him a bunch, he doesn't see why he can't kiss you back. And maybe he bites a lil, idk.

This will either end with you scurrying away, or with him pouncing you and abandoning the lipstick. Make your choice.

JASON THE TOYMAKER

He's busy tinkering with a new creation when you enter his workshop carrying every single lipstick you own.

He's too focused on his own work to really pay attention to you, so he just mutters a vague 'yeah' when he hears you ask a question, not really catching anything you said.

Jason's only vaguely aware that you're in the same room as him as he leans forward, brows pinched together as he focuses on stitching up a small stuffed animal.

It's not until he feels you resting your hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly and pressing a kiss against his cheek that he's brought to reality.

Just sits there, confused for the longest second, his hand coming up to his cheek where he had felt your lips. He's not against the sudden affection by any means, he's just a bit curious as to why you were suddenly giving him so many kisses.

When you explain how you're trying to find kiss proof lipstick, he lets out a small 'oh' and he goes back to his work.

Or, at least, he tries to get back to his work.

But you continue placing little kisses against his skin every few minutes, and it's making it really hard to focus, and he can feel his face getting hotter and hotter the longer this goes on.

Jason fucking loves you, okay? He tells you it multiple times a day. You are the one for him. So you smothering him with a bunch of kisses has him feeling all soft and gooey inside.

Whatever the hell he was working on before was no longer important to him, his gaze now seemingly glued to you and every little move you make as he leans back in his chair, basking in your attention.

Like hell he'll let you leave when you run out of lipstick.

You doomed yourself the moment you walked into his workshop to even start this little game.

He'll be dragging you down onto his lap and will refuse to let you go until he's had his fill of you. Which could be like... all day. Jason could never get tired of you.

NINA THE KILLER

Hell yeah!! She's been meaning to go through her lipsticks too, so she takes this as an opportunity to do that.

She definitely makes it into a game as well, I think.

You two will trade lipsticks without looking at the labels, and you'd both have to guess who was wearing what lipstick based on the shade and the feel.

The two of you trade kisses, lipstick stains covering her cheeks and your jaw and neck.

She really did just want to find a kiss proof lipstick, but each kiss had her letting out a small giggle.

And she knew you were teasing her, always leaning in for her lips before dodging and pressing another kiss against her cheek.

All that teasing had her feeling flustered, and she just wanted you to stop messing around and kiss her lips already. So when you put on a new thing of lipstick, she doesn't even give you a chance to do anything before she's pulling you closer and slamming her lips against yours.

You probably planned for this to happen, she thinks, but she didn't really care much.

You don't need an excuse to kiss her silly, you just gotta do it.

And when the two of you finally break the kiss, you're both breathless. Lipstick stains your skin, and both of your lips were smeared.

Nina didn't even care about the little game you two had been playing anymore, her hands resting on your cheeks.

She thought you looked stunning like this.

And it's not like you two had any pressing matters to attend to, so she didn't hesitate before leaning in for another kiss.

JEFF THE KILLER

When you had asked him for help with finding a 'kiss proof' lipstick, he honestly didn't understand why. Like... did you want him to put the lipstick on and kiss napkins with you? And why would you need his help doing that anyways?

He would've said no, if you hadn't asked really nicely.

Definitely grumbling about how dumb he thought this was as you get everything together.

Someone would probably assume you had a gun to his head or something from the way he looked as if he didn't want to be there, arms crossed and somehow frowning even though his scars made it look strange.

It really isn't until you place the first kiss against his cheek that he finally shuts up.

Oh. So this is what you had planned?

Truth be told, Jeff wasn't that big a fan of affection unless he was initiating it, but... he supposes he could let it slide, just this once. Especially after you press another kiss to his cheek.

You could never get this man to admit that he's enjoying this, but it's not like he was doing a good job at hiding it, either.

The frown he had was gone, replaced by a smile he was barely able to conceal. Do not point out the smile, he will leave the room if you do.

Each kiss you give him makes his heart race faster and faster, and when you're wiping off the last lipstick you have, talking about how you've yet to find a kiss proof one, Jeff is an utter mess.

He's got his face buried in his hands, cursing to himself for being so weak when it came to you.

Fuck, he really loves you.

[cherryxbooo]

You’re my ideal type

Summary: A video from a year ago of Oscar talking about his ideal type went viral, making his fans wonder why he chose his girlfriend. This leaves y/n with a lot of questions herself.

Note: First time writing for Oscar! I kinda went with the flow. Let me know what you think! 😌

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: fluff/angst

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Monaco. I was out with two of my friends, enjoying brunch together and soaking up the good vibes.

We spent hours talking, laughing, and joking around—overall, it was a fantastic time.

Afterward, we decided to go for a stroll. That’s when we stumbled upon a gorgeous spot with an incredible view. For girls, that can only mean one thing: a photo session. And, of course, we took full advantage.

We snapped countless pictures of each other—exactly what I needed. I’d been wanting to update my Instagram feed, and I knew Oscar would appreciate a few of these too. A win-win situation if you ask me.

Hours later, we decided to head home. Parting ways was bittersweet, but we all had things to do.

When I finally arrived at the place Oscar and I shared, I immediately went inside, feeling my social battery completely drained.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before Oscar would be home. Feeling a little bored, I decided to tackle some household chores to pass the time.

Eventually, I finished everything and switched to full-on "bed rotting" mode. As I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, I remembered the stunning photos we’d taken earlier.

Sitting up, I started going through them, carefully picking out the best ones to upload to Instagram.

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View all comments

oscarpiastri Pretties girl ❤️ by author

alexandrasaintmleux Gorgeous ❣️

yourusername Says you 💋

f1_dailylvr81 She's so girly coded love it 💅

fashionistaformula I can't be the only one thinking about that one interview of Oscar?

paistryln481 You're not alone, every time I see her I keep thinking about it

foryoutt16 Wait what? I'm lost, what happened?

cocosainzyy55 @foryoutt16 An old interview of Oscar when he was still in F2 resurfaced and he was talking about his ideal type and the description he gave matches nothing to his current girlfriend. People are suddenly bringing this up again, wondering why he didn't choose his ideal type.

foryoutt16 Oh damn that's rough...

The comments and likes flooded in, as they always did. Sometimes, I forgot that I was dating an F1 driver—it came with its own kind of spotlight.

But as I scrolled through the comments under my post, a few things caught my attention.

One comment in particular stood out: something about an old interview of Oscar.

Confused and curious, I decided to look it up. Little did I know, I was about to regret it...

My stomach twisted into knots as I watched the video, realization sinking in. Oscar described his ideal woman, and her characteristics were unlike ones I possessed. I felt a wave of insecurities and doubts wash over me, each word a reminder of how I didn't fit the bill for his ideal partner.

My heart sank with every word he spoke, describing his ideal woman's qualities - and every one felt like another reminder of how far off the mark I was.

I couldn't help but wonder, "Why did he choose me?" His words stung, and I questioned whether he settled for less than his ideal because he didn't have better options.

On cue, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Oscar returned home and called out my name. His voice echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. I hesitated, a mix of fear and confusion gripping me, as I debated whether to face him with this newfound knowledge.

He entered the room with a warm smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. He greeted me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before starting to speak in sweet words.

"Hey babe, how was your day?" he asked, completely unaware of the recent discovery I made.

I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside as I replied, "It was fine," my voice trying to mask the disappointment and insecurity that bubbled up.

The words left my lips, sounding hollow compared to the usual warmth in my tone.

Oscar sensed the hint of falsity in my fake smile. His observant nature picked up on the subtle cues of my distress, and he recognized that something was off. Yet, instead of immediately asking about it, he chose to hold off, observing to see if I would bring it up.

Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple gently, his touch providing a temporary sense of comfort.

He knew something was bothering me and chose not to press, offering a moment of respite instead. "Do you want takeout?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

I replied softly, trying to match his tenderness, "Sounds good." Despite my conflicting emotions, I didn't want to dampen the mood by revealing my insecurities.

"Takeout sounds great," I said, attempting to sound cheerful.

Oscar reluctantly let go of me, reaching for the phone to place the takeout order. In his absence, I seized the opportunity to sneak a look in the mirror, as well as to search for pictures of Oscar's ideal type.

I scoured the internet, comparing every aspect of my appearance to the images of his ideal woman. The comparison fueled my insecurities, amplifying the feeling of not measuring up.

My tears threatened to spill as I stood there, comparing myself to Oscar's ideal, but before they could, I heard Oscar's voice calling out.

"Y/n baby, the food will be here in twenty minutes," he informed me. I swiftly wiped away the tears before responding, attempting to hide the vulnerability in my voice, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."

Splashing my face with water to compose myself, hoping to hide any traces of my tears and distress. With determination, I dried my face and returned to the room where Oscar was, trying to mask my vulnerability.

After the food came, we ate together. I was quiet, it was mainly Oscar talking which was odd because normally it was always me talking and he would listen. We were currently cuddled up together after eating

Despite our cozy cuddle on the couch, my mind was preoccupied with worries. Thoughts like "What if he leaves me?" and "What if I'm not good enough?" consumed me.

Oscar noticed my distraction and asked if I was alright, concern in his voice. I replied, "Just tired," and although he didn't fully believe it, he decided not to push further.

Oscar spoke up once more, his voice soft and reassuring. "Y/n?" he began, his eyes searching mine.

"You know I love you, right? If there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," he emphasized, his tone filled with patience and support.

I nodded, attempting to hide the depth of my worries and insecurities. "Yeah, I know. I love you too," I responded, trying to sound reassuring.

The words felt heavy, knowing the weight of my unspoken fears.

A few weeks had passed since that moment of insecurity, and I had been avoiding Oscar, even though we lived together. I had made excuses to skip every Grand Prix , claiming I was too busy with work.

Yet, here I was, facing the mirror on the morning of a home race, feeling utterly unprepared. The interview weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn't in the right state to face it.

Standing in front of my reflection, I looked at myself, thoughts of my inadequacy resurfacing.

Oscar entered the room, his gaze settling on me. He positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.

His presence brought both comfort and nerves as I stood in front of the mirror, still grappling with my insecurities.

He spoke softly, his compliment genuine and sweet. "I didn't know it was possible to be this pretty. You look amazing love," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

I stepped away from him, the compliment not offering the comfort it usually would. My actions were distant, as if I was subconsciously putting up a barrier.

"Thanks," I responded distantly, my tone devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied my words.

The fear of his departure and my sense of inadequacy still lingered in my heart, casting a shadow over the moment.

Oscar seemed puzzled by my distant behavior, his confusion evident. Seeing right through my attempt to avoid him, he asked gently,

"Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"

His voice was tinged with concern, his eyes filled with hurt at my distance.

I quickly responded, trying to change the subject. "No, you did nothing wrong. Uhm, shouldn't you leave for the race?"

Oscar looked at me, his gaze lingering on me before reluctantly letting it go.

"Wait, weren't you coming with me?" he questioned, his tone hinting at his confusion.

I responded with a slightly busted attitude, "Oh, uhm, I'm not done getting ready yet. I'll come later, though."

It was a lie, and Oscar seemed to sense that something was off.

Despite the passing time, he decided to focus on his own preparations while stealing a moment to kiss my forehead before leaving.

I took a moment to muster my courage, realizing that Oscar didn't deserve being pushed away because of my insecurities.

With a deep breath, I prepared myself to face the day and attend the race, pushing through the weight of my doubts.

As the hours flew by, I found myself standing in the garage, watching from afar, torn between my worries and the desire to support him.

After awhile I decided to go to the restroom since I still had some time before the race started.

As I was walking, I heard voices behind me, and my name being mentioned caught my attention.

I stopped to listen—not that I meant to eavesdrop, but hearing my name made it impossible not to.

From what I could tell, these girls were likely McLaren fangirls. Well duh after all, they were dressed in papaya colors.

Girl 1: "It's crazy that Oscar is still dating y/n. She doesn't even fit his ideal type."

Girl 2: "I know, right? Like, she's not even close."

Girl 3: "Yeah, he must be leading her on or something."

Girl 4: "Or maybe she's in it for the fame and money."

Girl 5: "Oh, definitely. There's no other reason she would be with him."

The girls' laughter echoed in my ears, each comment like a punch to my heart.

Girl 2: "Seriously, you'd think he could do better than her."

Girl 1: "Yeah, she's not even that attractive compared to the other girls he's dated before."

Girl 3: "I bet he'll realize soon that he could get someone way better."

Girl 4: "Well, if the fame and money aren't enough, then he's definitely settling."

I couldn't bear to listen any longer, my tears streaming as I fled to the restroom, seeking solace to hide my distress.

Time slipped away as I stayed there, isolated, wrestling with my tormenting thoughts and self-doubts.

Meanwhile, the McLaren garage buzzed with pre-race energy, but Oscar couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around the paddock, scanning for any sign of you.

Anxiety churned in his gut as he spotted his teammate leaning casually against a workbench.

“Lando!” Oscar called, walking over briskly.

Lando glanced up, eyebrows raised. “What’s up, mate?”

Oscar hesitated before blurting out, “Have you seen Y/N anywhere?”

Lando frowned, clearly puzzled. “No, mate, haven’t seen her. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her around for the last few races. Is everything okay?”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, mate. She’s been so distant lately, and I have no idea what I’ve done to upset her.”

Lando’s expression softened, a mix of pity and thoughtfulness. “Could it maybe have to do with that video that went viral again?”

Oscar blinked, confused. “What video? That old F2 interview of mine? That was years ago! I was just joking in most of it anyway.”

Lando shrugged, giving him a pointed look. “Mate, you might want to check the comments under her recent Instagram post. I think that’s your answer.”

With a sympathetic pat on the back, Lando turned and walked off, leaving Oscar alone with his thoughts.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers quickly navigating to your profile. The comments under your latest post hit him like a brick.

“Oh no,” Oscar muttered, his stomach sinking. “No wonder she’s been distant…”

He mentally kicked himself, remembering that dumb interview where he’d been too cocky for his own good.

“I didn’t even mean half the stuff I said,” he whispered to himself, cringing at the memory.

Before he could search for you and explain himself, a crew member called his name, dragging him toward the car for pre-race preparations.

“Great timing,” he muttered under his breath. But he made a promise to himself: as soon as this race was over, he’d find you and make things right.

Meanwhile, back to you, the restroom break had taken longer than expected. The initial plan to kill time before the race started had backfired; now, a dull ache was forming in my head, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up on me.

I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, but the discomfort wasn’t going away.

Deciding it was best not to push myself, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Oscar:

Not feeling great. Heading back home. Don’t worry about me.

I hesitated before hitting send. He’d probably be confused or even concerned, but the last thing I wanted was to worry him.

With a sigh, I hit send and slipped my phone back into my bag.

As I stepped out of the restroom and headed for the exit, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

On the way, I also let Oscar's manager know I left, just in case he didn't check his phone.

I knew Oscar would notice my absence, but today, it felt easier to retreat than to stay and face everything swirling in my mind.

Little did I know, Oscar was already worrying.

The race had ended, with Oscar clinching a solid P4, just behind Lando. Though pleased with his result, his mind was elsewhere.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to feel your arms around him, and hear you tell him how proud you were—just like old times.

But as he scanned the crowd, his hope began to waver. You weren’t there.

His manager noticed Oscar’s distracted gaze and approached him. “Looking for Y/N?” the manager asked gently.

“She left you a message. Said she wasn’t feeling well and headed home.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened, his heart sinking. You hadn’t told him the truth.

A mix of frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface. Without a word, he decided to skip the team celebrations and headed straight home.

When Oscar arrived, he didn’t waste a second. Dropping his bag by the door, he called out loudly—his voice sharper than usual.

“Y/N!”

You were downstairs in no time, a soft smile on your face.

“Oh, hey, Osc! You’re back early. How was the race?” I asked sweetly, trying to act normal.

But Oscar wasn’t having it. His expression was hard as he stared at you.

“You would’ve known if you didn’t leave,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.

Guilt washed over me, and you stammered, “I’m sorry, Osc. I wasn’t feeling well—”

“Cut the crap, Y/N!” he interrupted, startling you. His voice was raised, something he rarely did.

“When are you going to finally admit the real reason you’ve been like this? Tell me! I’m sick of it!”

I flinched but couldn’t blame him. He deserved an explanation. At the same time, I’d had enough, too. My emotions spilled out, my voice breaking.

“How would you feel if people kept telling you that your partner is too good for you? That you’re not good enough, that you’re too ugly, not their type, only with them for the money?!”

Tears streamed down my face as you continued.

“And yes, it’s about that stupid interview of yours! I can’t help it, okay? Call me dumb, call me a crybaby, but this is too much!”

By now, I was full-on sobbing, unable to meet his gaze. But before I could crumble further, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

His voice was soft now, gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve helped. We’re a team, remember?”

I sniffled, my voice trembling as I replied, “Those were your words, Oscar. I can’t take them back or change them.”

He sighed, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Babe, that interview was years ago. I was joking around the entire time. If you’d watched the whole thing, you’d see that.”

I shook my head, unsure, but he leaned back just enough to look at me.

“Since when is my favorite color pink?” he teased, a small laugh escaping him.

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, too.

“That's better,” he said, smiling.

“Listen to me. Everything I said in that interview wasn’t true. I was 18, tired, and didn’t even want to be there. I was just trolling to get it over with.”

I laughed again at his confession, finally meeting his eyes.

“There’s that pretty smile,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but next time, talk to me, okay?”

I nodded, wiping your tears. “I will. I’m sorry for doubting you… for pushing you away.”

He smiled warmly, leaning in to peck your lips a few times.

“It’s okay, love. I get why you did it. But don’t you ever doubt yourself again, yeah? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

He cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t you ever doubt yourself,” he whispered. “You’re my ideal type. Always.”

I laughed softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Suddenly, Oscar scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.

“Osc! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

He grinned, shaking his head as he headed toward the bedroom.

“Nope. Let me show my gorgeous girl how much I love her.”

And let’s just say, the night ended perfectly. From that moment on, I never doubted his love for me ever again.

oscarpiastri posted on Instagram!

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oscarpiastri An amazing race to finish off the week. A big thank you to the entire team and the fans. Also a big thank you to my beautiful girlfriend for being the best support.

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yourusername So so proud of you Osc!!! Love you! 🩷

oscarpiastri Love you too pretty!

landonorris Well done mate 🙌 extra support is always great!

oscarpiastri Thanks man! You're right especially if she's just my type 😉

yourusername 🤭 ❤️ by author

lalalandnorris4you Oscar really gagged all of you haters purr 💅

frvrformulaonestan1 This is the cutest thing ever brb I'm going to cry 🥹

notyourfan481 Bro Oscar you don't have to lie we all know this ain't you

osclvy/n Girl stfu he isn't going to notice you ffs 🙄

lovelypeachlan4 You thought you did sum? Get out 👉🚪

yourusername posted on Instagram!

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yourusername A little recap of last week 🤍

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yourbffuser Looking like a snack 😋😍🥵

yourusername Love ya 💋🫦

oscarpiastri Gorgeous 😍

yourusername Love youu Osc 🥰

alexandrasaintmleux So so so pretty 😘

yourusername Says you beautiful 😉💕

lv4motorsports81 She's so pretty omd

manyyynorriz She's gorgeous, don't know what people were on about 🤨

banananorrispiastry81 🤢

nothingthelessnorris4 And you did this for what ☠️

piastrybakerlvr Move on he isn't going to notice you 🥱

lvlynorrisss4 Yet your comment didn't make any change to this world... Grow up 🤦‍♀️

The end