#I can't live with this popping up every time I reblog something

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - Part II"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!Oc

Theme: fluff, angst

N/A: And here is part two, I hope it lives up to your expectations. I would like to thank each like, comment, reblog, and ask about this imagine. I'm happy that you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I love seeing your reactions. Again, this chapter turned out huge, but I needed every part to make sense. I hope you enjoy it and fall a little more in love with these three.

Warnings: Men being inconvenient in this chapter, people making a child cry.

Pedri was in a mood; he was training alone in the academy because Gavi did him a favor by opening up to the entire team about his meeting with the woman from the nightclub, who turns out to work for Barça. And now all of the guys were messing with him, especially after Gavi spilled about the ring that was shining on her finger. Seriously, Gavi needs to return playing ASAP because Pedri can't deal anymore with the boy gossip phase.

"Are you sad today?" The little boy asked the player, taking his attention from the movie he was watching on his iPad. "I can bring M&Ms for us; Mom put some packages in her purse, I think she's sad too," he says pouting.

"I'm fine, buddy, just focused. But why is your mother sad? Did something happen?" Pedri asked curiously. In one of the many conversations he had with the little boy, he discovered that the little boy's mother worked for the team, but Pedri hadn't had the opportunity to meet her yet.

"I don't know; Father is supposed to take me this week. Then he screams at her and then at me, and they fight." Pedri swallows the knot in his throat as he sees the little boy's eyes watering; something hurts inside him for seeing the little boy like that.

"You know, those M&M's we were craving for, we finally get to have them," he says in an attempt to cheer up the little boy.

"No way, for real??" He jumped excitedly, and Pedri smiled at him.

"I swear. I'm going with Gavi after the training to get them." Pedri fixed the cap on Axel's head.

"You guys aren't going to eat them without me, right?" He pointed the finger at Pedri, trying to make an angry face.

"What, of course not? I'll bring them for you tomorrow, and also, I wouldn't eat them with Gavi; I'm angry at him," Pedri says as he starts to get his things ready to leave the academy.

"Why?" Axel asks curiously.

"Because he has a big mouth," the boy gasped, looking at Pedri.

"So he would eat everything," Axel says, worried, and Pedri laughs at his reaction.

"Yeah, something like that, buddy."

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

"Axel, I swear, it's been days since the last time I gave you candy; you shouldn't be this energetic," Isa asked as she watched her child jump from one chair to another. The boy stops, with a little smile on his face, and then back to his jumping games. Isa looks suspiciously at her child.

"Axel..." She calls, getting close to the boy. "You didn't eat any candy, right?" She holds the boy, stopping him from jumping anymore. He looks at her, his head tilts to the side, and a mischievous smile emerges on his little face, the dimples in his cheeks showing up. "Axel Harver," she says unbelievably as she starts to tickle him, his laughs getting louder and louder.

"Mom, stop. Please stoooop, Moooommy." She lets him go, letting him catch his breath.

"Little boy, little boy. I already told your grandfather not to give you too many candies." She kisses his head.

"It was for my friend; I couldn't let him eat alone," the boy said simply, and she smiled at him. Sometimes she couldn't believe how smart he was for his young age.

"No, you couldn't," she smiles, looking at the time on her watch; it was time to go home.

"Get your things; it's time for us to go home." The little boy ran to get his bag.

"Can we stop by Pops?" He asked excitedly.

"Of course, it's been two days since the last time you saw him; you guys are probably getting sick already," she says ironically at the boy, who had his grandfather on his little finger.

"He says that I could start Barça school after my birthday, so I'll be a La Masia boy, mom." The boy says excitedly as they walk towards the parking lot. He and his grandfather had been planning that moment for over a year; the excitement of both was evident. Honestly, Isa was still insecure about the idea of him wanting to be a player; she was too jealous for that, and modestly aside, her son was adorable, he would definitely get some attention. "You think I could play with my friend?" She looks down at her son.

"Well, probably, he's going to Barça school too?" She asked, as she had heard more than once about this friend of his.

"No, in the first team," he says simply. She looks confused at him.

"Well, I think it would take time for you both to be there; maybe you even change your mind about being a player." Her boy made a disgusted face.

"Axel, you are having so much attitude lately."

"But he's already there," he ignores what she is saying. She stops, looking at him.

"Wait, in the first team? Your friend?" The boy nodded happily. "The friend you spend the day with?" He nodded again, as his little eyes focused on something behind her.

"Are you befriending the players?" She asks, but she doesn't get his attention, as he seems to focus on the thing behind her before she can turn to see what he's looking at. He snaps out of his trance.

"Pedriiii!" he screams, and he runs away from her. She was pretty sure that her eyes were going to pop out as she heard the name. She then turned to see where her boy was going, catching a glimpse of him jumping excitedly into the player's arms.

"You've got to be kidding me," she says to herself.

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

"That friend of Aurora's is really into you," Gavi says to Pedri, who rolls his eyes. "You should give her a chance."

"I'm not interested; she's not my type." Gavi smiled wide at his friend, ready to comment, but was cut off by the boy who jumped at Pedri.

"Hi Pedri, hi Gavi." The little boy high-fived the two players.

"Hey little guy, no Gavi shirts today?" Gavi asked, getting an eye roll from Pedri.

"No. My mother said I should wear other clothes from time to time," he says with a sad smile, receiving a laugh from both players. "Are you going to get my candy?"

"Yes, I will. Are you here alone?" Pedri asked worriedly. He was used to meeting the boy alone inside the training center or the stadium, but the thought of the little boy running alone by the parking lot gave him shivers.

"Nooo, with mommy, Silly," he says, laughing as if Pedri had told him the funniest joke. Before Pedri could look around to search for the child's mother, his senses were clouded by the familiar scent of perfume that had been stuck in his mind for the past few days.

"Axel, what have I told you about running away from me like that? You can't let go of my hand on the street," the woman said in a sweet yet reprimanding voice.

"I know, Mom, but I had to talk to my friend," the little boy says in an even sweeter voice as he hugs the woman's legs. Pedri was absorbed in their interaction, while the woman's eyes stared at him. He simply couldn't believe it.

"Hi, Isa. Cute kid you have; now I can see the similarities," Gavi was the one to break the silence.

"Thanks, Pablo; he is the cutest." Pedri saw her eyes shine proudly as she looked at the boy, and honestly, Pedri felt dizzy.

"Hey, Pedri. I need to take my mother home and take her to a place," Gavi calls for Pedri.

"Ok, Let's Go! Bye Axel," Pedri wave a quick good bye to the little one, ignoring his mother.

"NO! You can't come, it's personal," Gavi says almost desperately, getting an intrigued look from Pedri.

"Gavira, I spent months taking you to every place; you owe me," Pedri says feeling annoyed as he watches his teammate head to his car.

"Sorry, brother. Ask one of the boys."

"We can take you!" The little voice says behind him. "Right mom, right? We can take him, pleeeease, we can take him, riiiiight?" He says as he jumps, pushing his mother's blazer, whose face was getting red.

"I don't know, we are going to Pops, and he probably doesn't want it."

"Of course he wants," Gavi says almost screaming.

"Aren't you leaving?" The three ask at the same time to the youngest, who looks amused as he gets in his car, leaving the parking lot.

"So you're coming with us, right? Right, mommy?" The woman only nodded, taking the kid in her arms and heading to her car. Pedri follows right beside them; he watches as she puts the little boy in the car seat.

"Axel, stop moving," she murmurs at the chatty boy. Once she finishes fixing it, she takes a step back, expecting to close the door, but ends up bumping into Pedri, who was holding the door. With a push, he closes the door, trapping Isa between him and the car. He takes a breath watching her beautiful face, but then he remembers something that was bugging his mind.

"Is your husband coming with us?" He says in a hushed tone just for her to hear. She opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out; she brushes past Pedri and gets into the car. Pedri runs his hands through his face; he would kill Gavira.

"Aren't you getting in? We are late," she says annoyingly after rolling down the car window. Pedri grumbles and heads for the passenger door.

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

There was so much tension inside the car, of course imperceptible to the little one who chatted incessantly in the back seat, telling things to his mother, asking questions to Pedri, and singing along to the songs playing on the radio. Despite the many conversations he had with the little one, Pedri hadn't realized how talkative he was; perhaps the presence of the other players made him feel shy. Pedri returned to his conversations with the boy, noticing the mannerisms he had and now could see how much he resembled his mother: the sweet way of speaking, the sweet and welcomed smile, the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled. Pedri was feeling something strange; the presence of the woman clouded his feelings.

"Pedriiiii," Axel's voice snapped his attention back. Pedri turned in his seat to face the younger one.

"Yes, buddy?"

"Mommy is talking to you." The child pointed to the woman driving. Pedri redirected his focus to her, who glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the road.

"You didn't tell us your address," she said calmly, the velvety tone of her voice sending shivers down Pedri's spine.

"Um, actually, you can drop me off at this store downtown," he showed her the address. "My brother will pick me up there."

"We can drop you home."

"No, I don't want to cause you any trouble," he couldn't help the sharpness in his tone, and he saw the woman wince and just murmur a little and almost inaudible 'ok'.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the candy store.

"Wait here for a minute," he told the woman, hurrying out of the car as quickly as he could to retrieve his order from the store.

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

"Oh my God, he's really going to get them," Isa looked at the back seat, seeing her son looking outside where the player walked towards a store, a fascinated look on his face.

"What, Axel?" She asked curiously, not used to Axel admiring someone else like that; normally, he was a shy child around strangers.

"Our candies," he said excitedly. "The ones we wanted but couldn't find, with different flavors."

"Did you ask him?" She turned to look at him, trying not to sound like she was reprimanding him.

"No, he wanted them too. And since I'm his friend, he's going to share them with me, because he likes me, Mom, he really likes me." Isa felt her throat tighten, and her eyes filled with tears. Words could hurt, especially when said to a child. She didn't know what to say to him, but the little boy's excitement comforted her heart.

"Here, buddy, we finally got them," the player gets into the car, snapping Isa out of her thoughts; she silently watches their interaction and how happy her son is. "Are you taking them to practice tomorrow?" Pedri asked as he stroked the child's cheek.

"YEEEEES!" Axel shouted excitedly.

"Alright, see you tomorrow then!" He said smiling at the little boy and then turned to the woman beside him. "Thanks for the ride."

"Thank you for this," she said honestly. "You have no idea what this means." The player furrowed his brows in confusion and then exited the car.

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

The feeling of returning to training with the rest of the team was a great relief, especially when there was the possibility of returning to play soon. Pedri felt ready; the medical department had already cleared him to drive, but they still wanted to postpone his return to the fields. And as eager as he was, he wanted to follow the guidance of the professionals. But still, knowing that he could return to playing soon gave him extra motivation in his recovery.

Pedri was eager to share the news with his little friend, who longed for his return even more than he did himself, but it had been almost a week since the last time he saw the boy. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he missed the boy running to meet him after training. He thought about asking about him to the boy's mother, but every time he saw her, the ring gleamed on her finger. Pedri didn't want to make a big deal out of it; after all, it was a one-night stand, but he couldn't deny that he was affected. The remnants of that night were vivid in his mind, and knowing that the woman was committed spoiled the images for him.

"You know, for someone who wants to seem indifferent, you're terrible at hiding it," Gavi whispers beside him as they watch the woman approaching with the film crew.

"Hello, boys," she says with a sweet smile.

"Hello, Isa," Gavi greets excitedly and nudges his friend to do the same, but Pedri just nods slightly, which seems to frustrate the woman. She kept her gaze on the player's face, reading every detail as if searching for an opening to say something.

"Here are your lines," she says after a few minutes of silence, handing over the cue cards with the ready-made phrases they needed to record for the Barça One promotion. "It'll be quick," she says, moving behind the man handling the camera, and soon the rest of the crew went to prepare the players.

Gavi was the first to record, while Pedri amused himself watching. Gavi hated these kinds of activities, so something that could normally be quick ended up taking longer because of him. Pedri's attention is stolen when his eyes fall on the woman, who is watching the recordings while making some notes in a notebook and speaking to the cameraman. As if sensing Pedri's eyes, she turns to face him and then walks slowly towards him, stopping by his side.

"You said you didn't know who I was that night," the player says quietly so only the woman can hear him. She looked back at him, her confidence in facing him as if challenging him bringing back memories.

"Are you talking to me now?" She asks in an ironic tone. "And I never said I didn't know who you were, I just said I didn't care," she says convincingly, and there it was, the sharp tongue and tone from that night, the player thought.

"That's not how it seemed, just like the part about being married," Pedri smiles proudly having retorted in the same tone, but the woman's furious look makes the smile disappear.

"It's not like that, and if you didn't keep avoiding me every time I show up, you'd know," she turns her attention back to Gavi's recording.

"You just had to say 'Hey, I have a husband,' it's not that hard," he says as he moves away from her."

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

Isa didn't want to go out that night, in weeks like that she gets in a terrible mood, there were right and wrong days, and that was a wrong one. But her work friends were eager for a night out , and they kept saying how good it would be for her since she was an ocean of anxiety. So there she was, sitting in the bar watching her friends dancing excitedly, she didn't want to go dance, not yet at least, she still wasn't feeling at her best to enjoy the night like that.

"Hey doll, can I buy you a drink?" A man comes to her side, she looks at him uninterested.

"No, thanks," she says simply, backing at watching her friends.

"C'mon, it's just a drink." He holds her arm getting close to her face.

"I don't want it." she says firmly.

"Oh, don't play hard to get," he touched her hair. "you are too pretty to be here alone." He insisted with a flirtatious smile.

"She's not here alone." The familiar voice cut before she could answer the man. "Take your hands out of my girlfriend" he says in a warning tone, making the woman gasp, Isa looks around to see if there are eyes on them, but for their luck, no one is paying attention.

"You? Her boyfriend? No way." The man laughs looking at Isa. "Aren't him like one of the Barça kids?" Isa saw Pedri's face turning red, and before he could answer she took him by the waist, getting him away from the inconvenient man.

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

The moment he saw the woman enter the bar, he just knew that he shouldn't have accepted Ferran's invitation to the nightclub. Because from that moment, his attention were on her, just like the first night. He tried his best to try to look uninterested, he even tried to speak and dance with a girl who was in their VIP area. But his eyes kept stealing glances at the woman, and the moment he saw a man on her side, he made his choice, going right into her.

He didn't have the time to answer the man who called him a kid, he had an answer for that, a good one that Isa herself could confirm, but her hand putting him away was distracting, the power she had over him was driving him crazy.

"Barça would end us, especially me, if I let the image of one of their golden boys get messed up because of some nightclub confusion" Pedri looked at the woman's face, her big brown eyes were soft and just like always, were mapping all his face.

The people around them didn't seem to notice who he was especially how they weren't dancing to the rhythm of the music playing. Pedri's hand was over her waist going up and down, she passed her manicured hand by her hair and the action made the smell of her perfume travel to his nose, automatically he bent down to her neck, smelling her inebriated perfume, like someone addicted. The woman was blinding his senses. He thought that the remaining images of their night, which kept playing as a movie in his mind were just the carnal feeling of a good night, but now he was afraid that it was something more, since the fact that only the idea of watching her gets all his attention, and we're everything about her, literally everything.

"Let's get out of here" she murmurs in his ears.

He didn't answer, he only took her by the hand to get out of the club.

That's how they ended up in the hotel room again, they didn't talk, the actions of the desire were speaking for them, Pedri was tasting every piece of her, like a starving man, like it was the last thing he would do. And deep down he thought that maybe it was the last thing, cause a noise kept ringing in his mind, remember him about the ring on her finger. And that makes him snapped at realization, he took the woman's hand who was holding his hair as if she depended on it, and there was no signal of the commitment. He kisses her hand then her mouth, and then all over her breast. She kept murmuring and saying things he couldn't understand, her face was all messed up because of her red lipstick, and he was sure he had the vestiges in his face too.

"You remember what you said to me that night?" He asked her, her eyes looking at him with such intensity that he felt at his chest. She smiles, her cheeks getting more red.

"That you should stop flirting with me 'cause i was hard to forget." She said with a lazy smile as she kissed his face.

"Well you were right"

"I am always right, I said that too, when you call me an arrogant, knowing-all b*tch."

As Pedri was to answer, the woman's phone rang, she picked it up from the bedside table, and the name "Henry" showed on screen, making Pedri rudely distance himself from her. She rolls her eyes as she answers the call, and soon her face turns pale, Pedri watches her with worry.

"What happened? Baby..." She gets up from the bad, "Do not cry, please, don't cry. Mommy it's going to pick you up, my Axel." Her choked voice and the mention of the name make Pedri stand up and approach the woman, who was trembling nervously.

"Let me talk to someone," she says, Pedri stops in front of her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HIM? HE IS JUST A CHILD!" she screamed sterically, her voice full of pain, making Pedri holding her arms, and try to calm her down. "That always happens, every time, he's just a baby, and every time you guys do this to him." She goes silent for a moment, Pedri felt his heart beating so hard that he could hear the thuds echoing in his ears. "I'll go get him" she says firmly, " I don't care how late it is. I'm not leaving my son like this." She ends the call and then throws the phone on the bed, her hands covering her face as she collapses and cries uncontrollably. Pedri embraces her, his chest full of concern for the woman and the little boy.

"Isa, what happened? Is Axel hurt?" he asks.

"I need to go," she says, stepping away from the player.

"I'm coming with you" She pushed Pedri away.

"No, you're not, you don't need to." She says coldly.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone, not in this state," he says firmly as he gathers their things around the room. Isa looks at him with apprehension and suspicion. Pedri couldn't understand her action. He holds the door, waiting for her to leave the room, and then she huffs in frustration and follows him outside.

Once in the car, Pedri gives her his hoodie that was in the backseat of his car, as thanks to him, the woman's dress was ruined. He drives to the address she had given him, the journey in complete silence except for the sound of the woman typing incessantly on her phone. As they arrive at the destination, Isa takes a deep breath and then looks at the player.

"Pedri, please, promise me, no matter what you see or hear, you don't leave the car, understood? Or you'll make things difficult for me." The desperation in the woman's voice made Pedri's stomach sick; not knowing what was happening was making him desperate. "You'll make things difficult for Axel," she says before he could say anything. And, reluctantly, Pedri agrees with the woman, as he would never do anything to harm the child.

He watches as the woman gets out of the car and rushes into the yard of a house, calling out for Axel. A blond woman emerges from the house and points a finger at Isa. They engage in a heated discussion, but he cannot hear their words. Then he sees Isa push the woman and hastily enter the house. Everything falls silent for a few minutes, and his heart races so fast that he wonders how he hasn't had a heart attack yet. After a few minutes, he sees Isa emerging from the house, holding Axel in her arms. She walks briskly towards the car, with the blond woman following her, screaming insults. Isa quickly jumps into the car with Axel, and the back door closes behind them.

"You can go now," she says, and Pedri turns around to look at her. Her face is red from crying. Pedri starts the car and drives away, not knowing exactly where to go, but deciding to wait before asking as Isa is talking to Axel. "It's okay, love. You're okay now." She says in a calm voice, trying to calm down the little boy.

"I don't want to come back, I don't want to stay with them, they're all mean to me," he cried so hard that Pedri stopped the car, deeply concerned for the kid, as he had never seen him cry like that before.

"You don't have to, Mommy promises you won't go back there, at least if it's something you want." Pedri turns to look at them, observing the woman wiping the tears from the little one's face and giving him a tight hug. Their eyes meet, and Pedri sees so much pain in hers.

"What's going on? This is tearing me apart," he says as he gestures towards them.

"Pedriiii?" Axel spun so quickly to look at the player that Pedri feared he had snapped his neck. He leaped from Isa's arms to the front seat and hugged Pedri tightly. Pedri simply held him back, while Isa looked on in complete awe at her son's rapid change of mood.

"I'll finally be able to eat my candies," the little boy says with a sweet excited voice.

"Axel!!" Isa says laughing at the boy's innocence.

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

N/A: SOOOOOO, what did you guys think? Writing the last part, breaks my heart, because I know their situation, me being mean for not telling you guys 😏

So, the next chapter will be the penultimate one, and then there will be the final one, and then the bonus. As mentioned in the previous chapter. Of course, it all depends on how much the characters are talking to me as well...

[strawberrysnoopy]

ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four

prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,

author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!

The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.

"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.

Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.

“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.

“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.

“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”

He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."

"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.

Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.

tags:@heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat, @ressespearlz, @xqlenkdy, @g0rep1ty, @nomorekerkanymor,

[orobaxis]

I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

-

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

-

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

-

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

-

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

-

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

-

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

-

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

[stylesparker]

second chance (at love)

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: season 2 era, character death, a lot of dialogue (sorry), horribly written fight scenes, overused tropes (but I don't care), and of course the usual mixture of fluff and angst

A/N: I finally got around to finishing this request, and I'm so sorry I took absolutely forever with this. I hope you like the way this turned out! I had so much fun writing it. Reblog if you like as always :)

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

Those words cycle through his head over and over again, plaguing him as he stares at you; unmoving, lifeless. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the knife impale your stomach, the blood that seeps through the fabric of your shirt, and worst of all, the life draining out of your eyes as you clutch onto him in your last moments.

You've been dead for seven minutes.

"Well isn't this something."

Sam snaps his head to the woman that appears out of thin air. Her hair is dark red, long and silky, and she's dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket. Her smile is sickeningly sweet.

"Poor Winchester, lost the girl, huh?"

"Who the hell are you?" Sam's voice comes out gruff and harsh, his glare menacing even to the demon. Her smirk gets wider when Sam grips you tighter and pulls you closer to his chest.

"Does it matter? I'm here to help." She blinks, letting her eyes turn to their natural state, that dreadful black signifying her as one thing.

Sam scoffs, "Right, 'cause all you have are good intentions."

She shrugs, "I'm here to make a deal. You gonna take it or not?"

Sam knew this wasn't right. He knew he promised you if anything happened, he'd live the life you thought he deserved. But, you didn't know what it was like to have to watch the person you love die, and know that person wasn't coming back. He stares, and stares, until finally he agrees.

"What do I have to do?"

DAY 1

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Sam asks you for the tenth time, watching you pull on your boots with a wince. He stands in front of you from where you're seated on the motel bed.

"Sam, I am fine, you don't need to hover over me like I'm some wounded animal that's gonna collapse out of nowhere!"

"Well you are kind of a wounded animal at the moment-"

"Sam."

He sighs, "I'm just making sure. Can you blame me?"

You release a sigh of your own, standing up from your spot (not without Sam extending his arm to help), and rest your hands on his shoulders. "I know, I'm sorry. But really, I'm fine. It was a close one, but I'm still here aren't I?"

Sam looks at you gravely, eyes gliding over your features like he's taking you in. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but closes it quickly. After a moment, he nods, and gives you a soft smile. "Yeah," he swiftly lands a gentle kiss on your forehead and takes your bag before you can grab it yourself, "I'll take our stuff out to the car, meet me out there when you're ready."

You sway on your feet, looking at Sam weirdly as he makes his way out the door. You wonder why he took so long to answer you, but you push the thought away when you realize that you almost died, so of course Sam's gonna have a hard time dealing with it.

You follow him outside with a new pep in your step, determined to make Sam feel better. As soon as he shuts the trunk, you settle into the car together, and you wait for Sam to pull out and drive off. Instead, he pulls out one of Dean's CD's and pops it in, while you look at him curiously, intrigued to find out what he chose.

Once the music starts, you smile and stare at him incredulously. "Really? Since when have you wanted to listen to Metallica?"

He shrugs with a small smile, "I don't know, just in the mood."

You laugh, "Who are you, and what have you done with Sam?"

"Shut up," He rolls his eyes but that small smirk remains on his lips. "Can't you let me be nice?"

"Dean, is that you?"

"Stop it!" He playfully slaps your arm just before he puts the car in reverse and takes off down the road. Listening to your laugh again is music to his ears, and he can't help looking at you as you bob your head to the music, not paying attention to him whatsoever.

He doesn't know how he's going to pull off this deal, but he's going to do everything in his power to bring you back.

Even if you hate him after.

DAY 2

"How do you have no rooms available? There are like no cars outside!" You angrily shout at the teenager who's working the front desk at some shitty motel you and Sam found off the road. The kid shrugs, which angers you even more, so you huff and slam the door on your way out, stomping up to the Impala with a confused looking Sam watching you.

As soon as you swing the door open he asks you, "What's wrong?"

"There's a damn kid in there telling me there are no rooms left! I swear to god, and he barely even looked at me!" You plop down on the seat, rubbing your eyes a tad harsher than Sam thinks you should, and look at him sadly. "I was really hoping we didn't have to sleep in the car tonight."

He rubs your arm in hopes of cheering you up, and says quietly, "Well, at least it's not cold out like the last time we had to sleep in the car?"

You shiver at the thought, "Oh my god, my toes were actually blue the next morning."

He smiles, "Exactly, so let's find a spot and rest for the night, yeah?"

You nod, but you still pout sadly in your seat as he drives. "I should be making you feel better, you haven't had a wink of sleep since like, what was it? Tuesday?"

"I think Monday."

"Sam, it's Thursday! You didn't sleep Tuesday morning?"

"No." He shrugs like it doesn't matter.

"What were you doing while I was sleeping then?"

"Watching over you."

You didn't know what to say after that. You don't know how you'd forgotten, but Sam clearly hadn't. Now you feel bad.

"Oh." You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize. I just, I don't know, wanted to make sure you would be okay."

His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can't help but lean over and grab his hand. His eyes dart to the sudden touch on his hand, and he glances over to you. You're looking at him so fondly, and he wishes he could just tell you. Get it over with.

But he can't.

So he lets you hold his hand in silence.

He drives for another 15 minutes until he finds a trailer park with almost no trailers, so he figures this will be a good enough spot for the night. He doubts anyone will show up here at least until the morning, so he takes the risk. He's so tired he doesn't even really care.

Sam opens the door on the driver's side to get out, walking to the trunk to grab the few blankets that you guys have, and comes back with one.

"What, no blanket for me?" You joke.

He throws it to you with a blank stare, almost like he's saying really?

"That is for you, jerk."

"Where's yours?"

"That's the only one we have."

Your mouth drops with surprise, "What? I could've sworn we at least had two?"

"We must have left the other one with Dean." He shrugs. "It's fine, I'm not that cold."

"Sam-"

His eyes pin you down with a hard stare, interrupting what you were about to say, so you give up, but not without a mumbled, "fine, jeez."

While you curl up against the door on your side with half of your blanket under your head, and the other half over your body, you look at Sam out of the corner of your eye with sympathy. He's a lanky guy, maybe not so thin since he's got the muscle, but the dude has long ass legs. The upper half of his body is leaning against the car door like yours, but his legs are uncomfortably folded so he doesn't get into your space. You hear him huff and shuffle around, which makes you wince and feel even worse than you did. You're not even close to comfortable so you can imagine how he feels.

For almost half an hour, you both listen to the other shift around without saying anything, and it gets to the point Sam can't handle it anymore. Until he gets an idea.

"Y/N?" He doesn't have to ask if you're awake because you're both well aware neither of you have slept.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

You peek your eyes open, and his arms are still crossed, but he shifts so his front is facing you.

"Would you wanna... lay together?"

He looks nervous, so you joke with him to hopefully ease him. "What, you too cramped over there?"

He scoffs, "A bit, yeah."

You giggle, sitting up and scooching closer to him, "Okay. Stretch your legs."

He extends his legs out across the seat, and opens his arms to invite you in. Now you're the nervous one as you shift even closer and lay your head on his chest, laying on top of him almost completely flat. You don't want to admit how much more comfortable this is. You fix the blanket so it's over the both of you, and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you more lightly than you thought he would. Or maybe hoped.

"Better?" You asked.

He nods, his chin lightly grazing your head, "Much."

Your back is to his chest with his arms resting over your stomach, and you're glad he can't really see your face because you can only imagine how bad you're blushing right now. You shift in his hold again, which has him looking down at you and squeezing your hip.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Mmhm." You nod quickly. You really want to turn over, but... that's weird right? That would be too close? This already seems intimate enough, and he can probably tell how awkward you're already being. You hope he doesn't think it's because you like him- no, because you cannot like Sam. Your best friend of nine years is off limits. You've been in the same bed before, you've even cuddled before, but you were kids then. It's different when you're 23 right? You haven't really thought about Sam like that before, but, you guess it's bound to happen because, well, Sam is Sam. You know it shouldn't be weird, not at all, but you're both adults who know about certain adult things that take place when adults are alone and comfortable with each other and-

"Y/N?"

Shit. "Yeah?" You try not to sound squeaky.

"What's up?"

"Um," you steady yourself, "can I turn over? I just- I feel a little awkward staring at the ceiling."

He laughs a little, "Yeah, of course. Is that what you were thinking about?"

"...Yeah?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" You can almost hear his smile.

"It's not." You assure.

He lifts his arms so you can turn over, and you do with a little bit of struggle, trying not to elbow him too much, but he gets hit with no complaint. Once your cheek is pressed to his chest you breathe a sigh of relief, and try not to think about how he stiffened then relaxed when you wrapped your arms around his abdomen.

"Better?" He asks.

"Much." You copy him from earlier, and his chest shakes with his laughter. You don't speak after that, but you relish the moment with him, despite feeling unnecessarily guilty for it. After a while, you fall asleep, and Sam does too.

He hopes you were thinking about him, and you wish that you weren't. He wishes you would say you love him, but you hope that he never finds out.

DAY 3

The next morning wasn't weird like you thought it would be. It was almost like you had done this a million times before. But, you had a case today, so there was no time to think about Sam. Only your job.

You spent most of the day driving around the town trying to find answers to three consecutive murders. All women, and an obvious lead to werewolves. You never really thought about how well you worked with Sam until now; all day you bounced ideas off of each other, gaining clues and offering suggestions like it was easy. It was, you guess, when your partner is so damn likable. Once you found the location, you and Sam were quick to head out the door and track down those werewolves.

They were about 20 minutes out from where you guys had been located, and when you spotted them in the cabin shortly off the road in the woods, you both agreed this would be a stealth mission.

Sam shut off the car and quietly shut the door shortly after you, and you both go to the back to grab your weapons and whatever else you'd need. He points to himself and then the cabin, and you roll your eyes at the man, allowing him to go first and lead you there. His long legs are hard to keep up with but you make do as quietly as you can, and every so often he'll stop and put a hand out to stop you. It tends to hover over your stomach so you have to try harder not to be too loud when you breathe.

A loud bang and shouts erupt from the cabin, interrupting the silence that filled the air, and you both take off in that direction. Sam kicks the door in, allowing you to take notice of the girl tied to a chair in the middle of the room, and two men facing off against each other; one on the floor and the other hovering over him. You and Sam don't even look at each other, as soon as the two of you make eye contact with the two of them, it's on. Sam goes for the one standing, immediately charging at him and toppling the both of them over while you go for the one on the ground. He's up quicker than you would have wished but you still throw your knife in time to where his shirt gets pinned to the floor.

While he's distracted trying to pull it out, you land on top of him and stab your extra through his chest, twisting it until he's too weak to throw you off of him. You don't hear anything behind you, so you let off of him a second too soon, and while you're looking for Sam the werewolf grabs the knife and slices your shoulder with it. You scream in pain, and get torn off of him from the other one. You hit the ground next to him hard on your bad shoulder, and you kick his leg out from under him, sending him to the floor.

Sam appears behind him with a nasty looking cut on his forehead, and his shirt torn to pieces, but he's able to kill him before he gets to you. The other one grabs Sam's leg, knocking him to the floor, allowing him to get the upper hand and attack him. Before he lands the final blow, you grab the shotgun and shoot him in the head, and watch as Sam topples over shoving him off. As much as you want to worry about him, you run to the girl first.

She's sobbing as you cut off the rope that was tying her hands and feet to the chair, and you let her fall into your embrace as she uses you for comfort, rubbing her back and whispering reassurances that you hope is making her feel better. You feel Sam's hand grab your shoulder and you look up at him, finding a troublesome look on his face.

"There's more out front. Get her out of here, I'll distract them."

"What? Sam, you're coming with us!"

"There's at least three of them on their way in here-" He starts.

"And you'll shoot them! Grab the gun and let's go!" You shout angrily, which has him furrowing his brows at you but he grabs the gun anyway and covers you as you carry the girl. You only make it halfway to the car before the other werewolves have found you, and Sam's only able to take out one of them before one is on him. The gun gets knocked out of his hand, and this is when you realize you'd left the other one in the cabin.

"Shit." You mutter.

"No, no, no, no-" the girl starts crying and freaking out again and you shush her, stupidly running in the opposite direction to try and outrun the werewolf. Again, stupidly. You're not as fast as a werewolf, especially with a girl who's about the same size as you in your arms, so he's able to catch up to you no problem.

He throws you both to the ground before he's pinning both of your hands in his tight grip and holding his body weight above you, forcing your hands together to hold them in one hand, and using the other to choke you. You hear the girl crying and you're pretty sure she's running away from the sounds of the leaves and dirt crunching beneath her feet.

You struggle to kick him off of you, he's much bigger than you are, so you hopelessly kick and scream as much as you can, only hoping Sam gets to you in time.

Just as you think he won't make it and you're losing consciousness, his hands leave your neck and suddenly you're gasping for air. You can sort of make out Sam and the werewolf fighting, but your vision is blurry so you can't tell who's on top of the other. Your breathing is harsh and you can hardly see, so when hands grab your shoulders and tug you upwards, you scream and swat at him, not realizing that it's Sam.

"Hey, hey! It's me, it's Sam!" He rubs the dirt off your face with one hand holding the part between your good shoulder and your neck so you don't fall over as you cough yourself into a fit.

"Sam," you rasp, and grab onto his arms tightly as you finally start to catch your breath again. You don't mean for the tears to fall out of your eyes, but you did almost get choked to death and your neck and shoulder hurt like a bitch, so it was bound to happen.

"W-Where's the girl?" Your voice comes out scratchy, but Sam just holds you and looks around while you lean against him.

"I saw her run for it, I don't know where though. It looked like she went towards the road, but it's too dark out for us to go after her like this. Let's just hope someone nice picked her up."

You nod, coughing into his shoulder, and his large hand rubs your back as you start to breathe normally again.

"Are you okay? I thought you-"

"I'm good," he reassures, "let's focus on getting you out of here."

Your shoulder is pretty bad, but his head is smeared with dirt and blood, and the cut on his forehead looks even bigger than when you first saw it.

"But," you cough, "Your head-"

"I'm the one who can stand on their own two feet at the moment, so would you just let me help you up?" You roll your eyes, but you let him carry you to the car anyway.

DAY 4

It's way past midnight, and you're pretty sure you and Sam scared the living daylights out of the front desk girl at the motel you found. The Impala wasn't stacked with any first-aid, so you had to go in looking like you were both mauled and run over by a truck fifty times. You paid, she gave you the key, and she was immediately running to the back, whether that was to call the police or hide you weren't sure.

You and Sam clung onto each other and helped each other up the stairs to the next floor, hobbling to your door like a couple of sick children.

You could tell Sam probably had a concussion, he's starting to look even worse for wear than he was. But he still insists on cleaning you up first.

You try not to whimper too loud when he lifts you onto the bathroom counter, but he shushes you gently when you let out silent scream and you grip his bicep incredibly tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispers.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay. I'm fine." Your reassurance falls on deaf ears. His grip tightens, but he doesn't look all there anymore.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

Suddenly, he's back on that road again, holding you in his arms. He remembers how cold you were, how lifeless. He feels weird because, he can see you right there in front of him, but somehow, his brain is telling him you're gone. You're not here anymore. His plan failed and he never got to tell you-

"Sam!"

His eyes refocus and he feels your hands on his cheeks. They're warm, and they're soft, nothing like how they were then. They rub his face gently, but the look on your face is one of concern, and mainly fear. He didn't realize how hard he was holding onto you, letting go as soon as he comes back from whatever that was.

"Sammy, where'd you go?"

He's not entirely sure, but he knows he can't tell you, or it could potentially break the deal. "Huh?"

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gazing at you like he didn't just stare into your soul with the most fearful tear filled look you'd ever seen.

"Sam, what happened?" You ask seriously, "I lost you for a second there."

He shakes his head. "No you didn't, I'm good." He breaks eye contact and grabs the alcohol, pouring it onto the cloth and gripping your shoulder.

"On three?"

You sigh, and take a deep breath. "Yeah."

"1-"

"2-"

"HOLY FUCK-" You practically double over and almost fall off the counter. You would have if Sam hadn't wrapped his other arm around you and kept you still while he cleaned the blood off and disinfected your wound.

"Sh, sh, sh, you're good, you're good. You got it, yeah? Breathe with me."

You grit your teeth as you try your best to follow along. "Fucking- shit, I hate you so bad right now."

"You'll get over it."

Once he's done cleaning it, he's able to wrap it and get it fixed up in no time. It still hurts, but, you've let him baby you enough.

"Alright, Winchester, your turn."

"You can't even lift your arm-"

With your good hand, you lift your other arm and use it to smack him across the shoulder.

He scoffs, "That's cheating."

"I still have one good arm left, so watch your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, but he relaxes when your soft touch spreads over the skin on his forehead. He watches you as you clean and bandage the wound just like he did, but now your faces are close, and he remembers he's standing in between your legs.

"Stop staring at me." You mumble, concentrating on stitching the last part on his cut, but also on the way he's staring you down.

"I'm not." He shakes his head, but you pinch him for moving, so he mutters out a sorry, and stands still again. A couple minutes later, you tap him on the shoulder, stating that you're all finished, and he gets this look on his face when he moves away from you.

"Can you uh- help me out?" You laugh, embarrassed a little bit for asking him to help you off the counter, but he does it without even thinking. His hands slide under your underarms again, lifting you just a little to where you can slide your butt off the counter. "Thanks."

"No problem." He nods his head, sending you his boyish smile, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest a bit. Did this guy really just stand between your legs and patch you up?

You both get into your separate beds, and lay down on your fresh clean pillows. a nice contrast to the doors of the Impala. But, as much as you like the bed, you almost wish Sam would invite you into his. It's much more silent than you wish it was, but Sam must have felt the same way because his voice cuts through the silence.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You look over, "Yeah?"

"Try not to get yourself killed too much, yeah? I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smile softly, "The same goes for you, Winchester."

He thinks that's the closest thing to a confession that he can get.

DAY 6

He wishes you would've stayed in bed longer.

"How is it that I've almost died like three times in the same week?" You ask him, hands holding your face up on your knees while the two of you sit on the curb on the side of the road.

The Impala is crushed.

Dean can most definitely fix it. But not until he's murdered the both of you and buried you in Bobby's backyard.

"How about we not mention that?" Sam suggests, peering over at you while you stare directly ahead at the car.

"Why not? I mean, we almost die everyday doing what we do, but like, this week- man, this week has been horrible." This sounds like the start of a ramble, and he's right. "I've come like an inch from death so many times this week I'm surprised it didn't actually happen. Like, right there, ten minutes ago, I swear I thought it was over. One minute, I'm singing along with you and the next Baby's upside down in the middle of nowhere." You shrug, and after a minute, you start to laugh to yourself.

"I feel like this is some sort of sign from the universe or something, so- so I'm just gonna say it." You push yourself to your feet and turn around, facing him, while he's still sitting on the curb looking up at you curiously.

"Say what?" He asks cautiously.

"Dude, I love you." You breathe out all in one breath. "I love you, Sam. You're my best friend, and I don't think I tell you that nearly enough, but you are. And so is Dean, but Dean's different, he's not- he's not you Sam. He's my best friend too, but you're..." he wants to laugh at the way you're staring at the sky and shaking your hands trying to come up with what you're trying to say, but he's so gobsmacked right now he can't really do anything else but stare in wonder. "You're Sam. You sleep with me in the car even though I can tell you get nervous, and even though I'm always nervous too you make it go away. You still stick by me even when I'm stupid and you carry me away from all the bad guys that try to kill us," you laugh," and you stitch me up and bandage all my wounds when I'm hurt even when I don't want you to because I know you love me and you show me better, and I wish I could do the same, so this is me showing you."

He stands from where he was sitting, but he can't really move anything else. He wants to move towards you, though something is holding him back. His chest starts to fill with dread, and suddenly, the deal is starting to glare at him straight in the face.

"Please don't let it be weird now, you don't have to say anything, just- let's sit with this and figure out how to get home, yeah?"

"Well, Winchester, things turned out for you, didn't they?"

Your body turns to look at the woman behind you, and Sam merely looks over your shoulder to see the demon he was hoping not to see.

Your face contorts, "Who the hell are you?"

Her face brightens, and her smirk gets wider as she glances between you and Sam.

"Aren't you two just perfect for each other?" She claps her hands together. "I'm so glad you've come to your senses, hun. Now, I can finally be on my merry way."

"No," you stop her, "How do you know us?" Your body twists again to face Sam, and all of a sudden, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Just by looking at his face you know something is wrong. "Sam?"

"I'll explain everything-"

"Go easy on him, sweetheart. What he did saved your life." She winks, and her signature red hair swishes when she disappears, just like that, just as she'd appeared.

"Sam..." you start, your voice dangerously low, "Who the hell was that."

He clenches his fists, taking a step closer to you, "Y/N, look-"

"Just tell me straight out, Sam! What was she talking about?" You practically shout at him, you're so anxious, you don't know what to do, what to expect. But what you possibly expected was nothing like what he said.

"You died. She was the reason why I got you back."

Your eyes hold a heaviness to them that only great sadness could bring, and he wishes he could take away that burden but he can't. He gave it to you.

"What?" You whisper. You say anything any louder and you think you might snap.

"She made a deal: I have seven days to-to..." he sighs, closing his eyes and prepares himself for what he's going to say next, "to get you to tell me you love me. Otherwise, you would stay dead. Permanently."

You don't say anything for a minute or two, and he doesn't expect you to, but he wishes you would have more of a reaction than what you're having now. There's this blank stare on your face, but it's sunken and it looks like he's given you burden upon burden to carry. Maybe he has.

"So basically," you start, clearing your throat, "You made a fucking bet, with a demon, you could get me to fall in love with you in seven days?" You scoff, "Otherwise, I'd be dead for good."

"No, that's not-"

"That's what it sounds like to me, Sam!" You scream.

His face falls, "I saved you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, else mattered, okay? I didn't care what kind of bet- no, I meant deal, I meant deal, it was, okay." He shakes his head. "Obviously I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't lose you, alright? I had the opportunity and I took it."

Your heart burns, it feels like you need to claw it out and throw some water on it, but all you can do is let it fester and grow and heat up every single nerve ending in your body. You want to be fine with it, he saved you, but, this isn't how it's supposed to be.

"I can't do this right now." You mutter, closing your eyes.

"What?" He steps forward, and you take three steps back.

"I have to go."

DAY 7

"You picked her up, right? She's with you?"

"Yes, Sam, she's with me. And you better be with Baby, you hear me?"

Sam rolls his eyes, and looks to the car that's being worked on in the shop.

"And don't let them touch her. I'll do the work myself when we get her back to Bobby's."

Sam grimaces, "It's a little late for that, buddy."

"Sam!-"

"Look, drop her off, okay. When you come here, I'll take the car back and you stay here, got it?"

"You're so lucky I saw Y/N first, or I would've whooped your ass-"

"Yeah, I got it, see you soon."

He hangs up the call and slaps it closed, the sound echoing into the air as he puts it back into his pocket. He looks around, but it's just empty road, and the car shop.

So he'll just have to wait.

...

"Dean?" Your voice calls out through the house loud and clear, and it makes him sad to think you may not be so happy seeing that it's him.

"It's me."

Your figure appears in the doorway of the kitchen, opposite of him.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey."

You're both quiet for a moment, not really knowing what to say, or even how to start, but Sam can only think of one thing.

"You can be mad at me, I deserve it. But just know I did it because I love you. Even though you made me promise to all that moving on shit, I couldn't do it." He pauses. "I know you love me too, but if you need time I understand that."

"Sam," your voice breaks, "I understand why you did it, but why did you have to lie?"

His chest sucked in, "She-she made it a part of the deal, that you couldn't know. If you knew or found out it would've been off."

Your shoulders droop and you step toward him, just one step.

"I just- I just can't believe that I died, Sam."

"I know." He nods, "I know. If you... have any more questions, I'm here to answer them."

You shake your head, but don't say anything else. Neither of you really have to, everything's been said. It's up to you where this goes from here.

You take two steps closer, closing most of the gap between you, and lean into him. His right hand drops the bag he was holding and wraps his arms around you, holding you close just as he did several days ago. You don't hug, or squeeze, but you're there, and that's what matters.

"I love you," you breathe, "but you're such an idiot."

He shakes a little bit with laughter, "I know."

"But, if I'm being honest," you look up at him, "I probably would have done the same thing too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nothing else has to be said. But he can't help but lean his face closer to yours, waiting, hoping that this wasn't something he was imagining. Your eyes bore into his, and you're the one who closes the space between you. Once the gap is filled there's no breaking it apart, and neither of you plan to.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drawn Together 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

I saw this and had to

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You are not a rebel. You are clean cut. You live within very precise boundaries. Minimizing every part of yourself to evade notice. Rules are not meant to be broken, despite that old cliche.

That is until that day. It's foolish, you know it. That voice in the back of your head repeats your foreboding. You know you can't go back. There isn't a magic eraser for this one.

Shut up.

You're over it. Over yourself. Over your boring life. You've never done one fun thing for just yourself. It's always been what has to be done. What must be done. You're thirty years old and you don't even know if you understand the concept of 'fun'.

You sit on the leather bench. Nervous and shaky as hell. There's still time to change your mind. You can take your deposit and go, with clean untainted skin.

No! You're not going to chicken out this time. You want one memory that doesn't end in you tucking tail and running.

"Do you like the sketch?" Sam, your assigned artist asks.

You glance over at him as he pulls on a pair of black gloves, his gun laid out and sterilised. You peek at the open sketchbook, the drawing of a simple red poppy outlined in black with a thick spiraled green stem. Nothing too big or extravagant, easy to hide. If your mother or father ever saw that, you would be excommunicated.

"I love it," your voice quavers and you clear your throat, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little anxious."

"That's fine. First time, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I don't even have piercings," you give a brittle chuckle, "I'm not really the adventurous type."

"I'm sure you are in your own way," he grins, a look that calms you. "So, we still set on ankle?"

"Um, yeah, I think that's good."

"As good a starting place as any. Glad I talked you off the ribs. Those are tender."

"Just an idea," you breathe, "I don't know much about these things."

"Not to worry, you're in good hands," he winks, "you can just relax," he rolls his stool to the foot of the bench, "and pop your leg up here."

"Right," you gulp down another chest full of air and follow his direction, "that's it?"

"And keep still. Tell me if you need a break. The pains a bit much at times so don't be afraid to speak up."

"Okay, sounds good," you try to settle in but your blood feels thick and your vision speckles with silver. Oh god, you're really going to do this.

"Don't hold your breath," he says, "really, I don't like my canvases passing out."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, you want something to drink before we start?"

"No, I'm good."

"Awesome," he says and grabs his gun, double checking the tip before moving back to your ankle. "Alright, I'll count down so you're not too surprised."

"Thanks," you fold your hands over your stomach as he positions your leg and bends forward.

He counts from three and you focus on not moving at the first stab of pain. Don't be a weak bitch. You grit your teeth and let out your breath as the gun buzzes loudly. The pain keeps a steady sear in your skin but you slowly get used to the sensation.

As he works, your eyes wander along the dark red walls and the artwork hanging all around. Tattoos in colour and black and white. The schematics of a tattoo gun. A falcon crest wrought in brass.

You hear the door open and the smoky voice of the other artist, Nat greets the newcomer you can't see past the pillar. The response is a deep, rocky timbre. You can only imagine the inked up brute behind it.

"Always with the notes," you hear a paper crinkle, "I'm the artist here, Rogers."

"Hey, I'm an artist too," the man counters lightly.

You peek over as the redhead woman appears on the other side of the pillar and guides her client through to her open workspace. An open curtain drapes against the wall at the other end of the shop. She sets down the page and tuts as she looks it over.

The man slides off a pair of dark sunglasses, black lenses with golden frames. He slips them into the pocket of his denim jacket and tugs at the sleeves. Their actions seem to be routine and you can see why. His arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in ink, a few smaller tattoos on his knuckles. Now you really feel out of place. 

"Sam, what's up?" The other client calls over as he hangs the denim on the coat rack.

"What's it look like, Steve?" Sam says, his eyes not leaving your ankle.

You take in the interaction silently. You're a stranger among the usuals. The poser getting their taste of artificial danger. Your ankle tweaks and you smother a grunt between your teeth. The noise catches the blue eyes of the man, Steve.

You quickly avert your eyes back to Sam and knot your fingers together. Steve's shadow moves away. The artist at your bench hardly seems bothered but gives a shake of his head.

"You want the curtain?" Natasha asks as she approaches the black drapes.

"Nah, you know I don't care."

Your eyes flick up as the man peels off his tank top. Wow. You blink rapidly and make yourself act normal. 

He lowers himself onto the leather seat as Natasha takes out her tools and starts sterilising. You once more force your attention back to Sam's careful work. It's going to take a while.

"You good?" He asks as he glances over, lifting the gun from your skin.

"Great," you murmur in an airy voice.

"Still nervous?"

"No, actually, kinda excited," you try not to speak too loud, overly mindful of the other client in the shop.

"Good," he hunches again and you suck in as he put the needle back to your skin. "So, what do you do? When you're not getting sick tats, that is?"

"Um, I, er, I teach. Music lessons."

"Music, huh? You seem like… the drummer type."

"Piano," you correct him, "I can carry a beat–" you pause to check the pain in your voice, "but I mostly teach piano."

"Classy," he remarks, "so, a poppy, any particular meaning to that?"

"Er, no, uh," you rub your neck nervously but make yourself quit moving, "it's my favourite flower."

"Pretty sombre fave but I get it," he remarks.

"Yeah, I guess…"

Your attention is drawn at the soft slap of skin and the rattle of metal. You look up as Steve retracts his hand and Natasha points at him with a sharp nail, "this is a sterile workspace."

He chuckles at her irritation and shows his palms before he sits back. He rolls his shoulders as he leans casually and twiddle his fingers against his jeans. Once more, your eyes meet and his mouth slants slightly. You gulp and look down again.

"So, any ideas for a second piece?" Sam asks.

"I think I'm gonna stick with one."

"Not gonna get a full bouquet?" He wonders.

"Not yet."

"Better get cozy, Rogers," Natasha says.

You look up as she sprays shaving foam onto his chest.

"You know this is my second home," he teases as he relaxes and she spreads the cream.

"Don't remind me," she grumbles as she takes a razor.

You tear away from your distraction once more. Gosh, it is painful. You don't know how people end up like him. Your tiny little flower will be more than enough for you.

You close your eyes and groan. Sam rests his hand on your calf. He squeezes as he pauses again.

"Need a break."

"No, keep going," you puff out.

You grip the side of the leather bench and bite down. You've always been a big baby. You bat away the gloss of tears threatening to confirm that and take another breath.

The subtle creak of leather pulls your gaze back across the room. Steve leans slightly around to see you past Nat as she shaves one side of his chest. You grimace and hide beneath your lashes.

Why is he looking at you like that? It must be amusing, someone like you in a place like that. Now you know this is definitely a mistake.

[kairiscorner]

Hey! Got a lil request!

I feel like Hobie would love to watch horror/scary movies so I would like a fic of Hobie watching a scary movie with reader that doesn't like scary movies cause they hate hyper realistic gore. You can imagine how he'd react to them being squeamish.

Thank you for reading this (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

HI @k4tsu3 POOKIEEEE OFC I WILL MAKE IT >:DDD HOPE YOU LIKE IT BOO 🫶🫶🫶

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

no need to worry, i'm right here. — hobie brown x reader

summary: as much as you want to enjoy movie night with your boyfriend, you could never bring yourself to find peace and enjoyment at the prospect of hyper realistic gore and nightmare fuel for days on end. luckily, hobie understands that you don't enjoy this as much as he does, and even luckier, he's willing to hold you all night and change the movie if you want. word count: 586

you tried to put on a brave face, though it was nothing like the look of enjoyment on hobie's face as he awaited to watch the movie you two scrounged up on some shady website. he laughed every time a pop-up appeared and poked fun at it as he exited the tab, though you awaited those pop-ups like the sunrise to a long, restless evening, because it was your excuse not to see the barrage of dark atmosphere and frightening elements of the movie you two were watching.

you listened as hobie made live commentary in murmurs on how good the cinematography was, how realistic the makeup on the actors were when they were using gorey elements for the shots. you smiled uncomfortably at the sound of hobie's amazement towards the execution of the movie and tried your hardest to look away from the compellingly loud sounds from the film. you shivered and whimpered a little as you curled up next to hobie, who was initially confused as to why you were suddenly clinging on to him, but he didn't mind--in fact, he loved that you were clinging on to him. though something told him you were clinging on to him for reasons other than you wanting to hold him intimately.

hobie went over and paused the movie and looked at you with a confused yet concerned look. "y'alright, love?" he asked you with a head tilt as you nodded and tried to smile sweetly up at him. "of course! of course, hobes... 'course i'm okay..." you stammered as hobie smirked, not buying your faux declaration of being 'okay'. "is it the movie?" he asked you as he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. shivers ran up your spine as you lightly nodded and leaned back on his chest in embarrassment. "...yeah. it's just, i don't wanna ruin movie night for you, hobes... we watch every movie i like, and, i wanted to watch something you like, in return. i'm sorry..." you muttered as hobie kissed the top of your head and brushed away stray hairs on your forehead and smiled.

"love, there's nothing wrong with being scared of a movie, let alone not wanting to watch it because of it. i'm glad you told me, and to be honest, i could go for watching a different, less violent, film right about now. you know me, i love me a good double feature." he said as he clicked off the tab you two were watching on and searched up a movie you were raving to hobie about, one you loved that he hasn't seen before. hobie grinned at you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders again. "you alright with rewatching this masterpiece you told me about, dear?" he asked you with a wink, to which you chuckled lightly as you placed your hand on top of his and smiled at him. "i am if you're eager to see it, i could watch this a million times and still be blown away, especially now that you're watching it with me..." you whispered as you pecked a kiss on hobie's cheek. "thank you for understanding, hobes..." you told him as he kissed your cheek back. "don't worry, love. your comfort's always my priority. besides, this actually looks really promising, can't wait to see it." he said as he clicked play and you two laughed as the button redirected you two to an ad for hot single moms in your area.

a/n: (((y'all watched the barbie movie /hj)))

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @arachnoia @pixqlsin @solecitoszn

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 8 | Dancing in the rain

Pairing | Best friend!Loki Laufeyson x Best friend!!Avenger!Female!Reader

Word count | ~ 850 words

Summary | Both you and Loki decide to make the best of a rainy day. He starts the day off with breakfast in bed, and you decide to bake him a pumpkin pie in the afternoon. When you suddenly get the idea to dance in the rain with him, something shifts between you, and you can't keep your hands off one another.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, breakfast in bed, dancing in the rain, implied shower sex.

Prompt(s) | 8. Rainy day

Request | Anon: Can I request a lazy rainy day with loki and female reader? 😍😍

A/n | This one shot is written for day 8 of Flufftober 2023. Thank you for this sweet request, Nonnie! I dream of spending a day like this with Loki, so I'm happy to have worked on this. I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

It is genuinely an autumnal day outside, with the rain falling heavy on the windows, the wind blowing trees in every direction, and it is cold out. Luckily for you, you're working in the kitchen to make a treat Loki has never had before: pumpkin pie.

The morning started nicely, even though you were rudely woken up by knocking on your door. Loki decided to bring you breakfast in bed, and you weren't fazed that he was wearing sweatpants and a tight shirt, which is the complete opposite of his usual Asgardian leather clothing.

''Mornin' Darling,'' he says with a small kiss on your temple, a little routine the two of you have built over the years you've known each other. What started as short, small pecks turned into lingering kisses and hugs, and sometimes, you two even slept in the same bed.

There's nothing wrong with that in and of itself if it weren't for the fact that you both have feelings for one another.

''I think I know what I want to do this afternoon,'' you suddenly said after Loki popped a strawberry into his mouth.

''And what would that be, Darling?'' Loki looks up at you expectingly.

''I'm going to bake you a pumpkin pie since I think it's a real shame you've never tasted one. It is one of the most amazing desserts on this planet, and since the weather is dreadful, it's the perfect opportunity to bake something!'' you said, and Loki was almost as enthusiastic as you were.

Keyword being almost, because your baking skills haven't always proved to be the best.

''Alright, if that's what you want to do, I'd be more than happy to try some of your pumpkin pie,'' he says before feeding you a strawberry, too, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

And that's how you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing the filling for your pumpkin pie. Loki silently observes you as you dance to the music you put on, and with each movement, he can feel himself falling more and more in love with you.

By the time the pie is ready to go into the oven, Loki has set up the living room to watch a movie together, a blanket, snacks, and your favorite Halloween movie ready to go.

''C'mon, we can probably watch about half the movie if we start now,'' he says, but when you look out the window, you suddenly get a better idea.

You stretch out your hand, and when he puts his in yours, you feel a warmth flowing through your body you can only describe as nothing but love.

''Trust me, it will be worth it,'' you tell Loki, who believes you, following you outside in the pouring rain.

''There's one thing I've always dreamt of doing: dancing in the rain!'' you scream at Loki so he can hear you through the pouring rain, and without a second thought, you dance like your life depends on it, not a single care in your mind right now.

All you know is you, Loki, and the rain, and he quickly follows suit as he busts out some odd dance moves he probably learned in Asgard, making you laugh uncontrollably.

''Loki, can I confess something?'' you say as you stop to dance. ''Because there's one more thing I've always dreamt of doing,'' you say, finally having found the courage to bring it up.

''Always, Darling,'' he says.

You walk over to him, and in the pouring rain, you wrap your arms around his neck, your lips crashing onto his in a kiss that takes your breath away in the best way possible.

His hands pull you closer by your waist until there's not a single inch left between you two, and it feels like you're in a romantic comedy, the moment feeling perfect.

When Loki pulls away, you chase his lips, and he gives one more small peck before telling you all about the feelings he's had for a long time now.

''I have to tell you how much I love you, how much I am in love with you. Every single time I see you, my heart skips a beat or two, and when we talk, I never get bored of talking or listening to you, and not a single moment is ever boring with you,'' he says, and your eyes light up at his words.

''I like how you look at people like they're all so precious, and you talk to everyone with love and care; it makes everyone feel special. But there's no one more special than you, Darling. And if you'll let me, I want to show you just how special,'' he says, a glint of mischief showing through.

''Please, Loki. I want you to show me,'' and within no time, you're both in the shower, and he has you pinned between himself and the wall as he makes sweet love to you, telling you how much he loves you and how perfect you are.

But most of all, he tells you what a good girl you are for him.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Wasted Time {One-Shot}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, High angst

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Nope.

Note: Just a likkle something that popped into my head an hour ago. I hope you like it. There might be a part 2. Might.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

He scoffed and gave you that cocky smirk. "Lewis fuckin' Hamilton."

You sneered at him. He knew you hated when he okayed the cocky, self-centered role. He knew you hated it and was doing it anyway just as you knew he hated when you got disrespectful when talking to him and embracing your petty side with him.

You were both playing a dangerous game.

"Yeah? And remind me again who the fuck that is in my world because I got nothing."

Lewis sneered right back at you. It was a low blow, you knew it but you were never the one to fight fair.

"Be careful, Y/N."

"No. Fuck that! You be careful and do yourself a favor by remembering who the fuck I am. You may be Lewis fucking Hamilton, the big dick, sweet-talking star of F1 who has every man, woman, and child hanging off of every word he says but I am Y/F/N & Y/L/N. I will not just sit around and allow you or any man to disrespect or make a fool of me. That's  just not how I'm living."

Before he could respond, you swiveled and walked away, another thing you knew he hated and another thing you purposely did. You were getting extra heated and needed to move, preferably away from him or you would probably lose your shit.

"Y/N," Lewis called out his voice low and clipped, clearly in warning. A warning you ignored.

"I've told you about walking away from me."

"And I've told you about half the shit you did tonight."

"Come on. How is it the same?  Youre doing this shit to get a rise out of me. That was work," he explained.

The poke from the devil was a hard one and one you could not ignore. You stopped and spun back around to look at him. Your head reared back almost like you'd been sucker punched. As you gaped at him, the only thought was that this fool had the audacity.

"Work!!”

"Work," he repeated.

"I know you fuckin' lyin'. Work? So you cuddled up all he-he haw-haw was work? You with your arm around both of them was work? Both of their hands roaming the span of your thigh was work? You taking their numbers was work? What about dancing with them in VIP, work too? Do you take me for a fool--a joke? You think I'm stupid huh!”

Lewis pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were hanging on by a thin thread. When he opened his mouth you didn't allow him to speak.

"Unfuckinbelievable!”

"You're right it is. It's the same thing with you all the time. Aren't you tired, Y/N? I've told you if you can't handle my world then don't engage."

You didn't know if you imagined the alarms blaring around you, or the flames igniting around the room, but within 1 second and one sentence, you descended into chaos. Your entire being was scorching hot. The heat began at your face then blazed downard making you feel like Johnny fuckin' Flame himself. With your hands clenched into tight fists, you took note of their shake. You knew this was a category 7 level of anger.

For the life of you, you didn't know why this man and this man alone could bring you to this level of anger. You didn't know how he got so deep under your skin, or how he had this much power over your emotions. How had this man gotten here when you'd been so careful?

When your hearing came back to normal, he was still going.

"If you can't separate my work from my reality then remain separate from them. Don't keep doing this because it's getting old as fuck. Every time you see something you spin it and spin it until you come up with some convoluted version of what it really is then come and accuse me of being someone I am not. Do you understand how fucked that is?"

With every word you got angrier and angrier you were so angry you couldn't formulate words, couldn't make any sense of this. At one point you even began to believe that you'd convoluted the whole thing and you were at fault but the smoking gun in your bag was what flashed in your mind.

You walked to your purse that was resting on the table beside the door, opened it, and took your phone out. It only took you a moment to find what you were looking for. Seeing the picture again made you ready to throw the device in his face.

"Separate your work from your reality huh?"

You went as close to him as you dared because you knew if you got too close you could and would physically hurt this man. You raised the phone and held it in front of his face then you watched him study the picture that was sneakily taken from a distance that showed him and the twin models that he'd been surrounded by all night. One was leaning into his neck as if she were getting very familiar with one of his erogenous zones while the other was leaning into his face staring deeply into his eyes.  Lewis remained there smiling while his right hand was resting on the small of the twin's back whose face was in his neck. The whole thing looked suggestive.

"Separate your work from reality? A convoluted version of reality?"

"Where did you get this?"

"Accuse you of being someone you're not?"

When Lewis' eyes met yours his were concerned, stressed, and curious while you knew yours were cold.

"Where did you get this?"

He reached for you, but you evaded his touch.

"Remain separate from them? Do not engage?"

The worry lines between his brows deepened right then. He knew what you were going to say. You'd been spending so much time together how could he not at least know your thought process?

"Consider it done."

You turned and walked to the door. Lewis called your name over and over. Each one sounded more and more desperate. When you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, you yanked your arm but didn't manage to break the contact. Instead, Lewis managed to enclose you against the wall blocking you there with his arms.

"Let me the fuck go."

"It's not what it looks like I swear."

"Ok," your voice was low, monotoned, emotionless.

"I promise. Why would I do anything like this out in the open? Why would I take this risk?"

"Because you do all your dirt behind my back and closed doors," your monotoned voice stated. "Let me go."

"Y/N, come on," he began.

"You said you're tired right? That this is old? I'm tired too and you're right, shit is very old."

"Y/N..."

Lewis brought his face to yours, but before he could make you weak, you ducked under his arm and opened the door.

"You're just going to leave?"

"I dont know who the fuck you think you are but I know who the fuck I am and I have always been and will always be that bitch with or without you. Remember that shit."

With that, you walked out keeping your back straight, head high, and tears in. As you walked away you heard Lewis mutter one more thing.

"You're supposed to trust me, Y/N."

"And you're supposed to respect me. What's trust without it."

You stepped onto the waiting elevator and as it closed, your eyes locked onto one another's. You were both too stubborn for your own good and that stubbornness was on display right now. Both of you refusing to meet the other in the middle, refusing to appear to be the weaker one, refusing to let the other know who'd fallen harder for the other. From the look in his eyes you could tell he still wanted you, still felt for you but the lack of movement from his legs showed something else and it was all you paid attention to.

You didn't know what you wanted from him, or what you expected in this moment but he was speaking loud and clear though he was completely silent. The way he held the door with one hand and the wall with the other screamed confidence. He looked like he expected you to run back down the hall to him to kiss and make up. The longer you didn't, you watched the confident facade crumble but only slightly.

Once the doors closed and the image of him was gone, you slumped against the wall, hanging your head.

"9 months wasted," you whispered to yourself, "I'm so fucking stupid."

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

TagList:

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[bluu3berry]

Monster kid

The drawing before I rest my little head tehehe!!~ I haven't drawn to much of monster kid even if they're my favorite undertale character!!

This one has a story

don't repost my art without creds or perms (reblogging doesn't count)!

Story under cut

10 Years after the release of the monsters and with humanity finally adjusted to them.

*Monster kid treaded threw the harsh after rain in his boots, he smiled down at the small rain boots fit snuggly on his claws, he was happy his Mom undyne was able to buy him something so pretty! As they walked down the street they notice the wind started to pick up, the tail went numb for a bit before they looked up at the sky blinking, they smiled seeing the dark clouds slowly scramble into the nuclear gray sky.

" More?? Dang! That's the .. 2nd? Time this week! I can't wait to visit toriels, I bet she'll love to hear about what happened at school, maybe Mama can help me and Mom with the gift for frisk!! "

*He smiled as he thought about the journey that was going to happen today, as the rain started to pour he paused and used his tail to lift his shoulder bag up taking out his umbrella and opening it with their mouth, with a pop it opened adjusting with and wrapping the happily dancing tail around it holding it up as they walked threw the soft rain pattering down...

".. so that's were the rain comes from? How did it ... End in the underground? Waaa, maybe Ms. Mercy can teach us! "

*He thought before walking down the street stepping in puddles with childish giggles from his throat, the rain boots making a squeak every harsh jump, splattering the rested water awake and onto the grass... It was a fun day made out of not so fun weather hm? Rain wasn't sad for monster kid, he always lived in areas where it was wet and rainy.. so it felt.. just like.. "home"..

[shopwitchvamp]

Hello! You can ignore this if the subject is too personal, but I saw you mention that you got a hysterectomy. I've been wanting to get one for awhile for a variety of reasons (no desire to have children, wanting to permanently stop periods, ect) and I was wondering if there was anything I should know about it that isn't talked about a lot?

Yeah I had one at 25 after yearssss of medical horrors. It's a lot and probably a good deal of people don't wanna read my nightmares so-

I had absolutely life ruining periods from endometriosis/PCOS, and I also never wanted children, but couldn't stay on BC to control any of those things because I found out at 21 that it was making my cholesterol sky high. I then spent a few years being truly, literally insane because I was going off and on birth control of various types every few months to try to find anything that wouldn't give me high cholesterol. Drs were like oh maybe the patches will bypass whatever weird mechanism is making this happen, maybe nuvaring, maybe progesterone only, maybe the hormonal IUD, etc etc.

I'd rather not get into what exactly led to finally getting the hysterectomy (extremely traumatic..) but I don't mind talking about the hysterectomy itself.

All I really have to say is that I have ZERO regrets and that my life has improved DRAMATICALLY since getting the hysterectomy. I had a partial so I still have ovaries, which means still having issues from PCOS, still having a hormonal cycle, still dealing with PMDD at times, etc. But given all of the issues I'd had with hormonal BC I didn't want to have my ovaries removed and need to rely on taking hormones forever when they might have caused me more problems. This is an issue very very specific to me tho.

But yeah, before the hysterectomy I used to spend 7-10 days each month-ish incapacitated by nightmare periods, and then very often end up sick (like with a cold or sinus infection or strep throat) afterwards because my body was so weakened. The only thing that had helped before was being on the kind of BC pills you take for like 3 months straight with no breaks so that you skip periods. But once I found out about the cholesterol problem, well. They just cycled me on and off a bunch of different options while doing frequent blood tests, and then in the end were like "idk guess you just have to live with it forever." Until the obgyn I'd been seeing since I was 17, who had witnessed 8 years of my suffering and already done 2 surgeries on me, was finally willing to just do a hysterectomy back in 2016.

I hear that maybe it's a bit easier these days to find a doctor willing to perform a hysterectomy, but I can't say I know much about the process. If you're on the hunt I think maybe like the childfree subreddit has a list of doctors?

If you have any kind of more specific question I guess lemme know. I'm not sure what people do or don't talk about when it comes to this stuff, but I really don't have any negatives to report, which I mainly credit to not getting a total hysterectomy (so no early menopause issues, etc). (EDIT: just fyi anyone reading this, I've muted notifcations because while I don't mind talking about this it isn't exactly something I want popping up into my awareness every few minutes 😅 if you leave any comments or reblog tags it's totally fine, just know that I won't see them. thanks for understanding!)

[jillsandwhichs]

Golden

A Cleon Story, Chap 2 , Expansion is abloom

Masterlist

Pairing: Claire Redfield & Leon Kennedy

Summary: Leon picks Claire up for dinner and they discuss some things of importance

WC: 4.5k

Type: SFW

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Over the course of the past couple day's, Leon and Claire have been speaking via email and number. For Claire, it's been hard. Trusting Leon was something she thought she could always count on. She's doesn't completely trust him now. What does he even have to hide? He's acting like he'll get assassinated if he gives her the chip. His whole "I can't tell you about it!" Stick is getting old and she just wants to get to the bottom of it.

As for Leon, he's his normal oblivious self. Maybe it's because Claire hides her feelings so well, but he thinks she's doing just dandy. Of course, he feels guilt for the fact he has yet to give her the chip; That's if he ever even does. Little does she know, it is truly for her safety, and for his, the President's, etc.. She doesn't work for the D.S.O therefore it's so surprise she doesn't fully understand. There's a chance she may never will.

For both sides, they believe they're in the right. Classic.

Although, tonight's events are much different. Claire agreed to finally go on a dinner 'date' with Leon. Ever since he sort of 'pitched' the offer the last time they seen one another, they've both been clearly thinking about it. Claire wants to do it for the food and learning more about Leon and his line of work, maybe that way she can find a hole in his words. Leon just wants to go out, and it just so happens to be with her. Claire is a sweet girl, they've known one another for some time now, so why the hell not?

It's about to enter the time of evening, Claire is spending the last remaining minutes before he arrives to pick her up just touching up on her makeup. She didn't go all out, she never does, it's beautifully bland. She's only wearing mascara, light blush and some lip tint. How come women have to be the ones to get all pretty for the men? Claire's always hated it. Her mascara causes her eyes to pop out more, her blush being a rosey color and her lip tint making the shape more prominent. She'd say she looks lovely.

And for attire, she's also keeping it classy. All she's wearing is a light, flowy beige blouse with mom jeans. It was quite the combo. Her shoes were just boot heels, ones she's never even worn. Her deep amber hair is slicked up into a ponytail, looking gorgeous per usual.

Claire has confidence in her appearance. She's never viewed herself as 'ugly', no, she believes everybody has some beauty to them. What truly makes a person ugly is what's inside - Their soul, their morality. For example, Claire thinks Leon is ugly right now! Of course, he's not actually. Claire thinks it's some sort of phase. He's truly handsome. Ever since R.C he's had this golden aura to him. He's a sweet guy just strolling down the wrong path it seems.

Leon said he plans to take her to some fancy restaurant in the city. She's nervous about it. Not only that, awkwardness will be present, most likely. It seems there's been a collision in their relationship, a dent in you will, that'll take time to reform. Claire just doesn't know how much time.

Claire was elated with the fact she'd be able to go out today. Dinner near the center of the city will be lovely. Leon's always been a city boy, her more countryside, so it's nice to switch it up every once in awhile. Although, Claire is originally from New York with her eldest brother, Chris. But once they moved to R.C before it blew up, they never even traveled back to the state. Now Claire is living here and Leon just so happens to live nearby as well.

She slipped her shoes on, tying the black laces attached to them. She definitely has to break these bad boys in, she has had yet to wear them. All she remembers is ordering them offline a few weeks ago. They're cute, but very specific attire for certain occasions. Claire also hasn't been on a 'date' in forever. She doesn't even know if this should be considered a date. It's not necessarily meant for romantic intent, but then again, is that how Leon feels too? Maybe for now she'll think of it as a friendly date.

Just so she would have the time, Claire went all throughout her house, switching off all of the lights and blowing out each candle. She doesn't want her bills to sky rocket and for her home to burn straight down. Plus, she has no clue how long they'll be out together, most likely a while.

But until Leon even arrives, which shouldn't be too long, Claire plans to just double check everything and chillax.

-

Only seconds after Claire was able to finally take a seat, the front door was being knocked on. It sounded loud, but that was due to a large lack of furniture in the house. Claire doesn't have much, she spends most of her time on missions anyways. "Coming!" Claire yelled, standing up and quickly recuperating herself. She adjusted her hair, wiped down her outfit, just making sure she looks nice.

She opened the front door, a tall and lean Leon was standing right before her. He was wearing his usual clothing, only difference is that his clothes looked a bit more expensive than usual. "Hey," He smirked at her. "You look great." Leon chuckled. Claire felt her body heat go rapidly up when he said that. It's like he can captivate any woman under his spell. "Thank you. You look nice too." Claire responded, clutching her purse closer to her.

"Why're you bringing that? Claire, I'll be paying for you, put that away." Leon stated, referencing her purse. Wow, he could be such a gentleman. It's too bad he's an ass sometimes. "Are you sure?" "Very, put it down." Claire bit her lower lip discreetly as she leisurely put the purse down onto the table pushed against the wall. She would usually set her purse, keys and other tedious items down onto it.

"Ready?" "Ready."

Leon pulled open the car door for her. Immediately, Claire could feel the cooling air releasing from the AC; Her damned AC didn't even work. It's not false to believe Leon is more wealthy than her, hell, he works for a high governmental agency. That's really all she knows.

Claire sat down, fixating herself to become more comfortable. The black leather of the cars seat felt plush & plump against her body, making her ease in easier. The music playing from the radio was quiet, but she could tell it was an ACDC song. She's well aware that her and Leon share somewhat of the same musical pallette, it's one thing they've bonded over once or twice.

He also eventually got into the car, adjusting himself just as Claire did. "Seatbelts on." He sounded like a father speaking to his children. With a small giggle, Claire pulled the strap over her chest, pressing it into it's holder. Leon began to pull out of her long driveway. Claire lives in the more subtle side of town, the woods if you will. It takes a couple seconds to fully get up to her house via off the road. She prefers the quiet life over the rowdy one.

"So, what's the restaurant you plan to take me too? You were never specific besides it being in the city." "Oh, you're right. The Pearl, that is where." He officially stated, his eyes occasionally taking looks at Claire as he drove down the street. "Never been there." "I'm a regular, I already have spots reserved for us too." Leon added on. Well, wasn't he just on top of everything? "Sounds great."

The Pearl is a very fancy, elegant and expensive. The wealthiest of the rich go there. To Claire, it isn't much of a surprise that Leon is a regular. Just the outside of the restaurant is that of high taste. Usually, she just orders takeout or goes to an outlet restaurant. The ones downtown are to die for, but none of them are expensive. They have that homey, cozy look to them and always taste so good, even for being on the cheaper side. As for the Pearl, it is smack dab in the city, lights are flashing all around it too. It gives of Casino vibes but nope, just a place you can eat at.

Claire twisted her head to gaze outside of the car window. On said window, there were marks and faded finger prints. It was foggy out - Rather gloomy. The night was still young though, and will remain that way for quite a bit. In the city, the night is even more lively than the day usually is. Claire won't be very surprised if there are tons of people roaming the center of town, and if there are a good chunk of customers at the restaurant.

"Are you comfortable? Too cold? Want some music?" "Uh, no thank you, Leon, I am fine." Claire reassured him. She was fine. Plain Jane just that. She wasn't happy. Maybe the night ahead will change that for her. She'll demand a real answer from Leon tonight; She yearns for one. Leon can't keep the reasoning behind not giving her the chip forever. If it was up to her, she would have interrogated him way sooner. But alas, I'll just have to do it for dinner, in a positive manner though, no need to cause a dispute.

"Just so I know before we get there, is there any chance you'll be drinking tonight? Like wine or champagne?" "I don't plan to." Claire replied, her voice low and soft as ever. "That's right, you never really drink, so you?" "Rarely, depends on the occasion." "Why not this occasion?" "Because..." Claire gave no reasoning; Leon was left curious and full with his thoughts.

His hand reached down to the volume, turning it up a little bit. Claire didn't recognize the song that was now playing, but she liked the tune of it. It had a nice calming, soothing feel to it. It was one of those songs you could fall asleep too with some earbuds in. Claire simply rested her head against the leather seat, her hands in her lap and her eyes focused on the outside world as they passed it by quickly through his car.

-

Eventually, Leon pulled into the parking lot and parked his car diagonally, letting out a sough when he did. His dark and torched eyes took a glance at Claire, his lips curling slightly. "Let's head on in." He grunted, opening up his side door, Claire doing the exact same. The immediate night breeze hit Claire like an anvil, causing the loose strands of hair sticking out from her ponytail to blow against her face. Leon made way towards her, making sure to help her across the street.

Claire was right though, the streets are packed full of people. At this time, in this part of the city, everyone was here, even children who probably have school tomorrow. In the center of the square, there is a large water fountain, coins dazzling at the bottom of it, one to many have made a wish. And on the outskirts, there are tons upon tons of stores and cafés for people to visit.

This was definitely the most busiest part of town.

Two men standing outside of the restaurant opened up both pullable doors for Leon and Claire, allowing the couple to enter inside of the restaurant. Claire soon got the smell of delicious food roaming up into her nostrils; She could practically taste the food herself. Right beside where they both stood, a hostess took Leon's jacket for him, hanging it up onto a clothing rack for him to retrieve later.

"Table for two, under Kennedy." Leon mumbled to the worker, his hands in his pockets. Claire just kept to herself, standing a foot or two away from Leon, having her arms crossed against her front. The hostess gave Leon a nod and pointed at a fine table over in the corner of the restaurant, near one of the larger windows that had a classy chandelier right above it, it's light casting down onto it. It was a nice little area.

The two of them took a seat, their eyes catching ganders of one another whilst doing so. Claire sat on the other side of the wall whereas Leon was against it. This is good. And only a few seconds after they took their seats, a new hostess came by and handed them two menus. "Take all the time you need." Was all she said before treading off to her next table. "They're rarely that quick." Leon chuckled, picking up his menu. "I think I already know what I'll be getting so please, take your time and look at what you want, Claire." He said with his regular deep tone.

Of course he already knows what he wants.

"Okay." Claire whispered, taking the menu in hand and begining to scan it. Everything on the menu was so pricy, just as she suspected. She honestly felt bad even ordering anything but then again, Leon did chose to take her here. "Wow, there is so much to choose from." Claire chuckled, biting her inner cheek. Leon's eyes fixated on her, watching her face as she took in all of what's on the menu. "Yeah... Pick whatever you'd like though, okay? Nothing on the menu is restricted." He assured her kindly. Claire liked that about him.

There was a lot to choose from. There was Alfredo, Steak, Shrimp dishes and even meals that were from all around the world and cultural.

Ultimately though, Claire decided on mushroom ravioli with sauteed green beans on the side. It wasn't very expensive and actually looked yummy.

"You sure that's what you want?" "Yes, I am." Claire nodded, setting her menu on top of Leon's. "What do you want to drink? Water? Soda?" "I'll probably just have water." "Me too then." Leon replied with a smile, looking back down. Claire was correct about her senses earlier, this did feel a little off - Awkward even. Claire's never felt awkward around Leon so this is completely new to her. If only he would've give up the fucking chip.

"Leon..." Claire began, "You need to tell me why exactly I can't have the chip..." "Claire." Leon groaned. "Why can't we just have a nice dinner? No need to ruin it." "Ruin it?" Claire spat out, causing some other people to look over her way. An embarrassed look washed over her but Leon quickly diverted her attention. "Okay, wrong use of the word. What I mean is, I just want to have a pleasant time with you without worrying about the chip." "I feel differently." "Elaborate." Leon hummed out to her, sliding back in the black chair.

"Leon, I don't like the fact you're hiding something from me, I mean, don't you trust me?" Claire pleaded out, upset she's made the entire situation more awkward than it was before. "Claire, you know I trust you, c'mon now." Leon laughed softly, "It's just... There's more than meets the eye and I don't know how well you'd handle the info." "Greatly." "It's easier said than done." He finally stated, his voice a bit more demanding now. Claire knew she should back down before an even bigger scene is caused.

Why can't he just be honest with her?

A waiter came over with a digital pad in his hands, ready to take their orders.

"Firstly, what can I get to drink for the two of you?" "Just two sparkling waters." Leon said friendly to the worker. "Got it... And have you guys decided on your meals?" "We have. The beef wellington meal and the creamy mushroom ravioli meal, please." Leon handed both menus to the man, in which he took gracefully. "Okay, great choices, should have those out shortly." The worker commented, giving the couple a smile before ambling off wards.

Claire rolled her eyes, just wanting to be home now. Her nerves were making her feel as if she was going to puke at any given moment. "I'm sorry Claire. There's just not much I can do for you." "It's whatever Leon, I give up." Claire heaved out, her eyes staring outside of the large window, the massive city being flashed directly outside of it. People walking, billboards shining, performers performing... It was all so lively and in a way, it lifted her spirits.

"Hey, I promised you I'll eventually release some information, I'm not standing you up on that. But seriously Claire, you cannot push this. It takes time." "I know... Guess I just show more sympathy than most, hm?" "I actually agree with you on that, you're a wonderful, kind and selfless girl. I admire your efforts but there truly isn't much else I can do yet, okay?" Oh how convincing and sweet he sounded when saying that. Claire does get it but that doesn't mean she's not going to be upset with him.

"Alright fine, fine." Claire tossed her hands up in defeat playfully. "I trust you'll hold up your end of the 'deal'." She responded. "Thank you, you're a smart girl." Leon teased. She really is though.

The waiter came back with two glasses full of sparkling water. He set both glasses down, one in front of Leon and one in front of Claire. "Thanks." Claire gave the worker a slight nod, the worker getting her one back before treading off. "Never had sparkling water before..." She picked up the glass, sniffing it before drinking some of it. Surprisingly, it didn't taste all that different, it has a sweet tang to it. "You like it?" "It's not bad." Claire responded, setting it back down again.

"Our food should be here soon, is there anything you wanna do afterwards?" "What do you mean?" "Y'know, take a talk, head down to the dock or I can just take you home... Whatever you want." "We'll see." Claire shook her head whilst giggling. "Good." He uttered out, leaning up more now. "Any plans for the upcoming weekend?" "Visit Chris and clean my house," Claire snickered, "You?" "Similar. Definitely clean up a bit but I also plan to get a new gym membership, the one near the mall is closing down." "Sucks to hear, but at least there are like thirty in the city." Claire let out a breathless laugh, along with Leon. "You aren't wrong there."

"I usually just work out at home, in the backyard." "Get in touch with your chakra?" Claire laughed at his remark, 'chakra', sure. "You're funny Leon." "So I've been told." He shrugged whilst raising his eyebrows in a cocky, egotistical way, but he was clearly just joking around with her. "I do Yoga too though, guess I am a little spiritual." She played along. "You gonna get some tarot cards next? Spread sage around the house?" "I actually do the sage thing already, so hah." Claire puckered her lips cutely. "Course you do." Leon huffed out.

Eventually, whilst the two were speaking, a waiter, a new one, came back with their dishes. Claire was enthralled with the fact they have so many employees working all at once. Despite the restaurant being so fancy, it wasn't as big as you'd think. Same size as an Olive Garden and a half. "Thank you, Sir." Leon said kindly, making sure their orders were both right. "No problem, enjoy." He walked off, going to the table behind them.

Claire took a look at her meal, a spout of water forming as a pool in her mouth. It smelt amazing. Steam was still tracing into the air and off of the food, it was straight up fresh. "Looks so great." Claire complimented the works of whomever made her food. The Ravioli looks wonderful and she can tell, despite there only being four, bigger sized raviolis, that she'll be full; There is even a basil leaf on the top of the centered one.

The sauteed green beans look delicious too. Just by the smell, she could tell they were cooked in garlic, which to her, smells exquisite. She was also happy they didn't give her the chunky, long beans and rather the smaller, wrinkly ones; They always have more flavor to them.

Claire took a glance at Leons food and it looked tasty as well. She recalled he did order the beef wellington meal.

"Both look good." Leon voiced lowly, taking his fork and digging right in, Claire doing the same; She is immensely hungry.

The first bite was so heavenly. It felt like the meat was just melting in her mouth. The mushroom taste also wasn't very strong, it was just a tint and it was perfect. She also took a quick nibble of a string of green bean, the flavors all bursting in her mouth. "Wow, better than anything I've had in awhile." Claire nodded, clearly chipper with her order. Growing up, Claire was a simple gal - A burger with fries. That was always her order. Chris always teased her about it. Then again, Chris always orders Pizza so he should shut up!

"How's your food, Leon?" "Amazing, as always. I see you're enjoying yours." "Very much." She giggled, taking yet another bite and washing it down with the cool water. Claire was enjoying this night moreso than she was earlier. She's upset with Leon, sure, but as long as he keeps his promise and eventually releases some helpful information, that'll do it for her. "Do you really promise?" "What?" "Do you really promise that you'll eventually release some info?" "I swear on my life." Leon spoke softly to her, but differently than usual. His tone was so serious but in a gentle way.

She's putting complete faith in Leon. He'll go through with it. She just knows it.

"We can change the subject for good now, but we can discuss it another day." "Agreed." Leon nodded, taking another bite from his plate. Claire didn't really know what to talk about though, a tinge of uncomfortablity still within her. "After I go home tonight, what do you plan to do?" "Workout a little, then sleep, I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow." "Oh, what's happening tomorrow?" Claire wondered aloud. "I have to investigate somewhere out East, shouldn't be gone too long." "I see... Well, I wish you the best of luck." "Thanks Claire." Leon shot her a grin.

He once again seemed quite vague with his answers, she didn't really know what to think of it honestly. "Do you know what you'll be doing specifically?" "Not really, just that I'm being sent out East and that I have to meet with some people for further instructions. Graham said he'll give me more intel soon." "Well, that's good for you." Claire cooed to him, eating more of her food. She was really enjoying the food itself. It was delicious. Great descion on Leon's end to take her here.

Claire leaned back in her chair, setting her hand over her stomach and letting out a cute noise - Like a groan. Leon looked up at her from his plate and let out a chortle, "You gettin full?" "Little bit." Claire giggled, sitting back up and hastely taking another bite of her beans. "You eat slower, therefore you'll get fuller easier." "That a fact?" "It is." Leon stated softly, sipping his beverage. "Guess I never knew that... The more you know!" Claire chuckled. "Does this place allow you to take your unfinished meals home?" "They sure do... Just let me finish up mine, then we'll play it by ear, sure?" "Sure Leon." Claire nodded swiftly, allowing him to continue dining.

She was quite full. The dinner was excellent, tasted better than any dish she's had in some time. She'll definitely have to come here again, maybe when taxes come in. While she does live alone and only has herself to support, she still doesn't really have the money like Leon does. Maybe he's just smarter with his cash though. He has mentioned before how much he tends to save money rather than spend it. Claire supposes that smarter to do but for her, it's easier said than done.

It was hard to peel her eyes away from Leon. He didn't even notice her admiring him. He looks handsome while he's just doing the most normal things. Claire was boy crazed in College, sure, but as she got older, she controlled it so much better. She doesn't tend to think of men the way she thinks of Leon - Loyal, Noble, Kind and Caring. All of the above. Most men to her are belittling and selfish... It's rare to find good ones it seems. Leon is just one of a kind, she hates how their relationship has been lately.

Once Leon finished his food, he stacked the plates along with their empty glasses, pushing them to the side to make the waitresses jobs easier. He was also able to obtain a takeout box for Claire, which she was evidently grateful for. He also carried it out for her, such a kind man.

The two of them reached his car, but Claire stopped in her tracks, watching Leon as he hadn't even took notice of her sudden halt. He set her food in the car, expecting her to be right beside him, but she was a few feet away. "What's wrong?" Leon said softly, instantly going up to her. Claire looked down at her feet, her boot heels were in contrast of his black dress shoes. "I just feel bad for how I've been the past week." She began. "I've been mean to you, just nasty, you know that's not how I am Leon, I just want to help people." She whispered with tranquility.

She felt his smooth hands, both of them, cup her thin face, tilting her upwards to look at him. "Hey, you've done nothing wrong." He reassured her. "I know where you've been coming from and you've had absolutely every right to act out, okay Claire?" Leon then wrapped his arms around her neck, her face nestling against his chest. Claire hooked her lanky yet built arms around his torso, embracing him lovingly. Yeah, she seriously needed this.

She could feel herself wanting to break, the blueness overcoming her. Being held by Leon was a feeling she's never got to feel outside of it being to say goodbye and even then, it maybe lasted no more than three seconds. She could feel his hefty hand stroking her hair, his chin on top of her head as well. His comforting touch was just so meaningful to her. Feeling him against her was one of the best feelings she's had in so long. It's like he's a cure.

"I'll do better." "You're okay." Leon hummed, then pulling away.

Claire blew out, scratching the top of her head. "You okay?" "I'm fine now, thank you Leon." "Anything for you, Red." Leon uncupped her face, slowing walking backwards. "How about I take you home now? You need to rest up." "That would be great." Claire cackled, making her way to the passenger side door.

[adarkrainbow]

I will complete my trilogy of Hansel and Gretel stage adaptations of fascinating visuals with this piece. I made several posts about the Royal New Zealand Ballet's adaptation and its homages to Germanic cinema (and obscure carnival traditions). I reblogged something about the Hänsel and Gretel concert of Lindemann-Tägtren and its disturbing, horrifying but also darkly clownesque visuals... And now I bring you the San Diego Opera adaptation of the famed Hansel and Gretel opera, with quite impressive puppetry!

I will copy-paste here the content of an article by Beth Accomando, which can be read in its original form here.

It’s not every day that an opera singer gets to bring a cannibalistic witch to life.

"I lure children into the forest and I cook them into gingerbread cakes and then I eat them. It's delightful," said tenor Joel Sorensen.

But what’s not so delightful is having to wear a big puppetry rig to create a larger-than-life witch onstage.

"I am a puppet," Sorensen explained. "The witch is a puppet, a very large puppet. And I have a colleague, Iain [Gunn], behind me. He bears the bulk of the weight on his back. So I'm basically working with a puppet while trying to sing and convey a character. It's a real challenge."

The challenge for director Brenna Corner in bringing Engelbert Humperdinck's "Hansel and Gretel" to the San Diego Opera stage was how do you bring a fairy tale to life?

"One of the things that I think is really tricky about 'Hansel and Gretel' is size. How do you make two grown-ups look like they're kids and two other grown-ups look like they're adults? And then someone else looks sort of even bigger and more powerful. And quite frankly, the best way I could figure out how to do that was puppets," Corner said.

So anything that was not human became a puppet. Like the witch.

"It's different in that it's not my physicality. So, because I'm manipulating her hands, her arms, and I'm working in tandem with [Gunn] so I can't move as quickly as I might normally or as sharply but facially and vocally, I'm trying to do the same things that I would do if I were performing it without a puppet," Sorensen said.

Now if you are thinking of puppets as something you put on your hand, think again. Imagine actors completely enveloped in layers of fabric with a large sculpted head or face high above their shoulders and an arm span that exceeds 10 feet.

"We had to really kind of blow up the notion of what a puppet is in order to successfully encompass the fusion of opera and puppetry," said Judd Palmer of Old Trout Puppet Workshop in Calgary. "Our inspiration was classic 19th century children's book illustrators like Arthur Rackham or N.C. Wyeth. We wanted the whole thing to feel like it comes out of a book and it becomes the illustrations coming to life like a pop up book."

Palmer designed the puppets for a production in Canada and Iain Gunn of Animal Cracker Conspiracy here in San Diego is now the puppeteer working with Sorensen to play the Witch onstage.

"I get to live inside this character that I'm helping to bring alive," Gunn said. "But she has her own voice standing right in front of me. I don't know how to describe it, but I feel like I am transported inside this imagination. It's like I'm in the 'Time Bandits' or something like that where … we're doing something magical and it's a magical character and the only reason it's alive is because we're in there giving it our all. So it's pretty cool."

The puppets engage the audience in a unique way.

"It's this agreement that the audience makes with the performers," Corner explains. "That we agree not to see the person who's obviously a person and instead we agree to look at what is fabric and some PVC pipe and a plaster-like face, right? But we agree to do that. So what's extraordinary to me about puppetry is that as an audience, we're continually investing our imagination in seeing the thing that the performers want us to see and then as the performers keep investing in that then all of a sudden they go away. They don't exist there anymore and it becomes something else kind of magical."

By not trying to fool the audience and instead asking them to play along in this game of make-believe, the audience becomes a co-conspirator.

Palmer pointed out, "You can see the puppeteer right there in a ridiculous outfit. They're sweating and panting from having to run across the stage and they're waving the puppet around. It lets us all in on the joke in a way but also in the kind of the dream. It makes it evident to everybody in the audience that they are going to have to invest imaginatively in this in the same way as the people on stage are."

It's recommended that you bring a child-like sense of imagination to this show.

"That joy that you had when you were a kid," Corner said. "And you could imagine what would happen if a stick was suddenly a giant scary monster. I think that's what you want to bring to this production because that's what this production creates is the sense of wonder and joy and mystery that's inherent in being a kid."

And inherent in a story that begins with the magical possibilities of once upon a time…

San Diego Opera’s production of Engelbert Humperdick’s "Hansel and Gretel" opens Saturday and will have three additional performances through Feb. 16 at San Diego Civic Theatre.

[eyesofshinigami]

WIP Weekend!

I was tagged by the always wonderful @shares-a-vest, so here we go!

The Rules:

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

The WIPs:

Teenage Dirtbag: where Eddie is a lot a bit of a creep when it comes to Stevie Harrington, but wouldn't you know it, but she's kind of into it too?

A/B/O Rarity: Where the Alpha and Omega genes are incredibly rare, but with Steve's luck, he's one of the few people who's got it. He hides it for years, until he can't/doesn't want to anymore, especially after he meets Eddie, who is the only other person he's ever met who also has the gene.

Adventures in Babysitting: another A/B/O idea where Eddie is an older Alpha and needs a babysitter/nanny for his young son, and cue them meeting Steve, the incredibly hot, young Omega babysitter who immediately pings every box he's ever had.

As for a snippet, here's one from Teenage Dirtbag that's a wee little spicy.

Things changed again, after that. Stevie abandoned all her old friends, stuck by Nancy and Jonathon Byers of all people, the three of them looking haunted and weary in a way that stuck in Eddie’s mind like a splinter in his finger. Gone was the ice princess who roamed the halls of Hawkins High like royalty, and instead was a girl who looked like she had Seen Some Shit. Eddie knew that look. He saw it enough in the mirror when it was a bad night. 

And still, it didn’t wane. It got worse again, where Eddie pictured himself as some kind of black knight that would ride in and make everything better. He thought about getting her flowers. Or asking her if she wanted to go to one of his concerts and watch him play. Wondered if she would like having a picnic by the quarry, where he could get his hand up her skirt and kiss her and tell her that she was a supernova that had completely consumed him. 

But he didn’t. Maybe there was too much Munson in him, too much of a coward to try and reach out and touch the untouchable. Stevie Harrington was always going to be the pipe dream, even more than Corroded Coffin getting discovered and him hitting the big time. Especially because she was graduating, and Eddie was still stuck spinning his wheels in this lame-ass school because he couldn’t figure out how to get his head out of all of his imaginary fantasies.

She was probably going off to some rich-kid school on a coast somewhere. She’d probably find some blonde-haired blue-eyed guy named Chad or Kevin or something and get married, pop out kids and live in the suburbs. 

Until she didn’t leave. Until Eddie was fucking assaulted with the sight of Stevie Harrington in a tiny sailor’s uniform, slinging ice cream at the mall. That skirt was criminal, even more than the stupid tennis skirts she wore to school all the time. 

His thoughts took a turn for the worst, sitting outside Scoops Ahoy like an absolute asshole and just drooling over the thought of bending her over the counter. Thinking about pulling her into the freezer and fucking her until neither of them could move, her clawing at his back and pulling at his hair and telling him what a fucking freak he was. 

No pressure tags: @ghostinthelibrarywrites, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @marvel-ous-m, @devondespresso

I'm sure people have already been tagged, if you have, please poke me and I'll go take a look!

[umbran6]

What if... Leo got a Cult?

For those of you who have seen some of my previous posts, this one is based on the What if… Leo Became a God? For those of you who know liked, reblogged, or both, thank you very much. For those of you who may not know, please click on the underline. But for those who just want a quick TLDR about that: Leo burns away his mortality while fighting Gaea, which led to him becoming a god. 

Now, I know I’m jumping into possibly ridiculous territory. Leo just became a god. How the hell does he get a cult so quickly? However, I argue that this is one of the most vital components when considering any headcanon that involves one character becoming a god. Gods need domains, belief, memories to maintain their form in the real world. We see an active example of what happens when gods don’t have this through Pan — his domain had been defiled and belief in him had dwindled to the point he ceased to exist. You can't just have demigods like Percy reach godhood without explaining what's going to keep them around afterwards, so this is my attempt to explain as such.

Hera teaches this to Leo when she informs him of his newfound godhood. To truly become a god beyond the few years after his ascension, he needs to give people reason to believe in him. Hercules had his Twelve Labors which are still told to this day. Dionysus had his cult which actively praised him as the God of Wine, and his memory is associated with the twelve Olympians. More minor gods such as Triptolemus lean on a divine patron for their domains, becoming their lieutenants to help make up for a lack of belief. 

Leo needs something to latch him into the real world, because once his friends die and people start forgetting about him if he doesn’t do anything about it, he will cease to exist unless he decides to piggyback off Hephaestus or Hera. Yeah, that course of action is not going to fly - Leo still has a grudge against Hephaestus for ‘going out to get milk’ for nearly all his life, and while Hera is starting to make up for the Nanny-From-Hell Incidents, he still doesn’t trust her. 

Leo understands that but does not know how to achieve it. Nor does he know if he wants to achieve it. Aside from his own feat of destroying Gaea, he doesn’t see why someone would want to worship him. He hasn’t given anyone reason to. So, he decides to avoid doing so - if he was to be glorified, it would only be through ways he thought were right. Little did he forget a good portion of genre-savviness - A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.

Instead, he focuses on the benefits of becoming a minor god. Not the supreme power, but more on the practical benefits. Practical, as in, Leo has everything he needs to live. He easily erases records of his past from the public eye, allowing him to be among mortals without any issue, though he does slightly gaslight his mortal family by popping up in front of them when they least expect it, slowly driving them to insanity. He doesn’t have to worry about money because he can easily conjure it. Our boy got himself the upgrade and glow-up in ways that he could never imagine and doesn’t have to experience the hardship he went through in the streets anymore.

To put it bluntly, Leo knows the negatives of immortality, that everyone he loves will die eventually. But now he can, ironically enough, live. Being able to pop into a country with a snap of his fingers, be free of searching for food every day, having the time to study whatever he pleases and indulge when he never could. All of those are miracles he never takes for granted. Leo loves being a god because there are just so many benefits and so little loss to him on a personal level in the short term.

So, he travels the world, enjoying what he could never appreciate in his voyage in the Argo II, bringing his mom with him for the ride while Calypso adjusts to the modern world. They backpack or rest in luxury, but Leo is not blind as he travels the world — regardless of his newfound godhood, he still sees the poor, the hungry, the sick. The people they used to be before he was aware of his status as a demigod, and before he gave his mom a second chance at life. 

So, Leo helps. Out of empathy, he conjures food and builds shelters for those in need. He teaches what he can and offers resources that help people learn when he can’t teach while he quickly studies the subjects necessary to make their lives better. When violence breaks out, he is the first one to intervene, bringing order to bloody chaos. and crushing threats with the snap of his fingers. Normally the Mist hides the divine, but the world has become more open-minded as fantasy and the supernatural become more entrenched in popular culture. Mortals don’t recognize what he is, but they can understand that there was something more powerful hiding behind the face of a young boy. Children who are more open to the concept of the supernatural know his true nature.

The mortal world formally recognizes him when the media sees Leo put down a war between gangs with steel, fire, and blood, sparing the civilians caught in the crossfire and clutching the leaders by their neck in front of the press. Articles spring up and the rumors and videos lurking in the internet are given legitimacy by the public. They don’t know how to name Leo at first - and they initially draw on pop culture as a reference. Some call him The Boy on Fire, others more familiar with his philanthropy dub him The Architect. In the end, they settle for one title: The Ashborn, for his arrival was heralded by the ashes of those burnt by his flames.  Debates regarding what exactly Leo is are furious - some claim he’s a spirit, others claim he is the reincarnation of whichever spiritual figure they pray to. Some think he’s a devil, but even they can’t deny the good he does. The people he saved praise the god hidden among humans, and the Cult of Ash is formed, though Leo keeps a strict eye so that it does not cause harm, physical or mental, to anyone.

Inspired by his travels when he comes back home while keeping a laser focus on his growing cult, Leo builds. A lot. He makes the first demigod cellphones and starts distributing them around the world to demigods in need, allowing them to communicate with both their mortal and supernatural loved ones, though he partners with Iris so that it has more support among the gods. When he comes across the Waystation, he is inspired to create similar locations around the world so demigods can have temporary shelter. He builds smaller versions of the Argo II so that demigods can travel between camps with ease. He becomes practically a one-man industrial revolution for the demigods, and that resonates through most of the world. 

The demigods don’t know how to react to this. They’ve never had a god actively be interested in improving their lives before, much less so directly. To them, the gods have always been distant - important, of course, but not omnipresent and certainly never aiding them unless it was quid pro quo. But Leo is there. He’s talking to them, handing his inventions without charge. He’s helping, and they don’t know what to do because some of them feel they can do more than just say thank you. 

The demigods, in their confusion, go back to the ancient ways of their predecessors when treating the gods to show respect and praise. Sometimes it’s a simple ‘Thanks Leo’ when a demigod uses their phone to call their mortal friends and family. Sometimes it is food burnt in his honor. Some decide to take a more modern approach and make things in his image. Yes, that means the demigods make Leo merch, including a Mythomagic card and figurine that makes Nico choke on air.

But what stands out are the prayers. Demigods start praying to him for safety, for his intelligence and strength when facing the challenges they face in life. When an attempt to transport three demigods to Camp Half-Blood goes horribly wrong, the satyr prays to Leo for protection. Leo appears and slays the horde in a single motion while he guides the demigods to Camp. The demigods he saves sing his praises while getting a more positive outlook of the gods, for now they know there is someone among the divine that advocates for them. 

Much like the mortals, the demigods give him his own epithets, but they recognize the truth about his ascension. Those who focus on his work in improving the lives of the demigods call him Léon o Efevrétis - Leo the Inventor. For those who focus on the true power he wields, they call him as thus: Apocalypsis Leo. Leo of the Apocalypse, for he was the one that struck down the world when it dared to rise against the gods. 

Leo can sense these prayers. He doesn’t know how to react to them because he’s never had people… believe in him. He’s used to hiding his powers, hiding who he is. Now people are idolizing him (literally - someone’s already made an idol figurine of him, and it makes him look too hot than he really should be) for who he really is. It feels good, but he doesn’t know how to react towards them. He doesn’t know if he is doing the right thing by allowing them to worship him, or that he should encourage them to focus elsewhere. 

So, with a bit of advice from Hera, Leo turns towards the closest god to experience what he went through, Mr. D. Only he would be the one to understand the dilemma that Leo is going through, at least in passing for he himself was also idolized. Leo, with a bit of time, confides in him - mainly because he knows he can’t exactly go about spilling everything to the Olympian. But with time, he does bring up the problem - by allowing people to venerate him, was he doing the right thing? 

Mr. D. can’t answer that. Because Leo’s cult is still growing in numbers, and the results of their actions were yet to be seen. But he does give a nugget of wisdom. That how he treats his followers defines him as a god, but if he cares about the independence of his followers, or how they act, then he should lead by example. Do not encourage them to glorify him but guide them. Whether he was worth being treated as a deity, and if that was the right thing, was a decision the mortals would make among themselves. Thus, outside of Hera and Apollo, Leo makes his first friend among the gods. With this, Dionysus also begins his path as the Camp’s official psychiatric counselor. 

The Olympians' (and the other Pantheons) reactions are mixed. Zeus of course thinks that it should be put down, seeing it as possible threat against the gods. Those more reluctant to accept Leo think that if his cult keeps growing, Leo may gun for a throne among the council. His friends among the divine (his demigod friends are a mixed bag, but I'll get back to that later) see it as Leo getting the reverence he deserves as a god, the same reverence they went through during the times of Ancient Greece, Macedon, and Rome. Some just think the cult will devolve over time. The other Pantheons keep a close eye on both him and his cult, seeing him as a new and powerful player on the international stage of the gods.

However, Leo’s mortal friends are a mixed bag of responses. Reasonable, of course - they’re witnesses, and in some cases, unwitting conspirators to Leo’s ascension. They see their friend unknowingly shaping the world around him through his travels, the news articles and shrines being created in his name, and the legend that grows. And of course, each one has a different take on the cult that grows.

Annabeth is not worried about it. She is somewhat wary of the pace Leo is bringing innovation, for demigods never had to deal with modernization in the ways most mortals dream of. Oh, she loves all the new phones and the fact that she doesn’t have to constantly rely on more impractical methods for communicating with her friends. But she wants Leo to allow other inventors to grow, and for the cult not to persecute those who want to create and stand on their own two feet. 

 Percy sees Leo as his ‘what if’ — what could’ve happened if he chose godhood. He sees all the inventions that Leo makes and how he is making life so much easier for everyone, and he can’t help but compare himself to him, wondering if he could do more. Whenever some of Leo’s worshipers see their subject of worship, they radiate gratitude. He doesn’t know what to make of the cult, but he feels a bit envious when he sees the smiles on everyone’s faces whenever Leo shows up. 

Frank, Hazel, and Reyna, while trying to be friends with him, don’t know how to handle the cult. The cult is gaining influence in New Rome, and its slowly starting to show as more statuettes of Leo appear and more prayers are sung. It speaks volumes of the cult’s growth when New Rome's Senate officially pardons Leo about the Eidolon incident without any prompting. The best they can do is that Leo keeps his cult in check, which he is more than happy to do so. 

Unfortunately, and ironically enough, its Jason and Piper that cannot accept, or at least overcome the cult, but for two separate reasons. Regardless, it has a very devastating effect on their relationship because these two reasons are heavily linked to them as characters. 

For Jason, Leo has unknowingly made his job as Pontifex Maximus extremely more difficult. Leo has indirectly set a higher standard for the minor gods - minor gods aren’t just allowed to exist anymore. They should have influence on their lives, or they should somehow benefit the demigods. Gods such as Tyche/Fortuna and Nemesis still have their own domains that are seen day-to-day, but the more minor gods are heavily criticized for their inaction, with Jason bearing the brunt of said criticism. It’s a slap on the face for Jason when he has spent weeks trying to get a single minor god’s temple approved by the Senate and now must beg and grovel for funding, while the only reason Leo’s worshippers haven’t built him a temple is because they want the guy’s approval of it. 

Leo, although doing his best to maintain neutrality, knows the truth behind Jason’s oath — that he had done it to save his and Percy’s skin when they were at Kymopoleia’s mercy. When the minor gods try to blame Leo for the lack of the oath’s success, he argues in his own defense - the people chose to worship him out of their own free will and Jason was still doing his best to uphold the bargain. But when they ask Kymopoleia about the deal, they get a lot more context and see Jason as unwilling and selfish, seeing his lack of success as more him trying to find a loophole in the oath he swore. 

Jason doesn’t see the bigger picture. All he sees is that everyone is more than happy to sing Leo’s praises for being the hottest god on the block, while everyone is hating him for making sure that the minor gods get their moment in the sun. This slowly starts to build more resentment as the monopoly-board with all the minor gods' shrines seems to be just a dream. In an ironic twist, Jason is now resentful about Leo being the golden boy in the eyes of everyone while he’s the one being overlooked, which was the exact opposite situation when Leo was a demigod. 

Piper, in the meantime, is more resentful of Leo as a whole. Mainly because she sees Leo growing more famous, and more people are asking her about trying to speak with Leo rather than her. She’s reminded of a similar situation with her and her father - that she was seen more as a link to him rather than as a person overall. 

Furthermore, much like Jason, she is also feeling overshadowed. When people speak of their quests, they don't give her the respect that she deserves. They don't discuss Piper giving Festus sentience to fight Khione, because nobody else on the Argo II can’t really accept it —Piper’s charmspeak never showed such a degree of power before. Her role in defeating Gaea? She claims that she ‘put Gaea to sleep’ with her charmspeak, but the thing about an auditory power is that… you can’t exactly hear it from several stories high up, and Jason’s supporting claim is looked upon with suspicion because he is her boyfriend, of course he’ll speak on her behalf. Only Leo can testify otherwise, but outside of that she is given the ‘Princess Peach treatment’ (and no, not like the new Mario Movie), with most of her role being downplayed. 

It doesn’t help that her cognition of Leo is very much against the view his followers have of him. She and Jason always viewed Leo as… more of a jester than the inventor he always was. Good for jokes and getting along with, not exactly one she could see as engineering a plot to kill a goddess. She treats the cult’s viewpoint of Leo as a joke. In the meantime, the cult views him as the leader of innovation, the one who killed Gaea and brought an age of information to the demigods. This ends up in her getting involved in several arguments which leads to a nearly borderline fight with Leo’s followers. Either way, she’s convinced the cult needs to be shut down and Leo is ridiculous for allowing it to flourish. 

 It’s tragic, because they were the ones that cared the most about Leo, and they cannot accept the ways everything close to him changed. They, who should’ve accepted him unconditionally, are the least tolerant of him changing. They cannot accept the new status quo and want a return to normality that can never come back. 

When they confront Leo, it's not pretty. They never really argued, for Leo always held his tongue whenever he was frustrated, always willing to talk less and smile more when he wanted to lash out. It always was like that, him shutting up when he wanted to make a comment that would sting. Not anymore. 

Leo doesn’t have a good reason to shut down the cult, and neither does he want to. They haven't hurt anybody in his name, nor has he encouraged them to do so (and he’s been keeping a tight grip on that). He would advocate for Jason and Piper, but shutting down his entire group of worshipers just because his friends didn’t like them? Especially from Jason, who was supposed to honor all the gods, Leo himself now in that category? No.  

What occurs is an between friends that have completely different views of the future. Leo recognizes that there’s no returning back to ‘the good old days’ — in his point of view, there weren’t any. Jason and Piper believe they’ve lost their friend to his newfound godhood… but they never had him in the first place. They had the façade, the mask of jokes he put in front of the world, so they didn’t have to see his true reaction. Now that people seem to be appreciating him for his abilities, for what he has done and how he treats everybody, he finally decides to take it off and verbally starts swinging. It’s the first and last time they fight before we get into the Trials of Apollo. 

This cult doesn’t initially have any impact… until Trials of Apollo. And Leo’s presence, though subtle, is practically everywhere throughout most of the book. Rather than Apollo landing in a dumpster, Leo tweaks things slightly so that he ends up landing at a close mattress. When Apollo gets to the Jackson residence, there’s a small shrine Sally put up - not out of worship for Leo, but out of respect for what work he has done to protect demigods. Apollo stumbles upon a newspaper rambling about the Ash Cult.

Here’s the thing where things get ridiculously funny for those in the know. Apollo doesn’t remember that past six months, and therefore thinks Leo is dead. He unknowingly mutters a prayer to Leo, thinking Sally’s shrine is to honor his memory and not the god. When he gets to Camp Half-Blood, he’s shocked to see demigods using phones and thanking Leo. He sees the smaller versions of the Argo II, which just transported a bunch of demigods from Camp Jupiter.  He sees a temple with a statue of Leo which Apollo mistakes for a monument. The Triumvirate’s attempt to silence demigod communications through Harpocrates is shattered because Leo is several times stronger than the fading god with his vibrant worship in a world where the gods’ power remains in the memories they laid upon the human consciousness. 

Most interactions whenever Leo is name-dropped can be summarized as such: 

Apollo: I’m sorry for your loss. He was the greatest hero I’ve ever known.

The Campers: Eh, its ok. We’re sure he’s going to show up soon. 

It comes to a head when we get to the part of where Apollo is being forced to open the gates to the Grove of Dodona. During his attempts at stopping himself, he does his best to resist the command. He starts praying for somebody to stop him, because there was no way in Tartarus he would willingly cooperate with Nero. He prays to his sister, to his father no matter how much Apollo may hate him. He hopes that anybody will appear - Will and Nico, preferably with backup of a hundred demigods and Percy Jackson. He latches into a small hope the prayers the campers utter. He hopes that Leo shows up soon. 

It seems nothing happens. The gates still open. In the distance, Apollo sees the Colossus Neronis lumber towards Camp, showing up several minutes ahead of schedule. Nero still tosses that lighter and ignites the Greek fire, which spreads towards the hostages at the stake. And for the sake of drama, I’m going to switch it to Apollo’s first-person point of view.

For a second, everything’s falling apart. Nero starts to lug his guard like an oversized potato sack. The fire is starting to roar in its toxic green, burning through everything that it can touch with its bare hands. There’s no stopping it - unless magic’s used, Greek Fire will burn through everything it can consume. If I already felt enraged when Nero tossed the cigarette lighter to the ground, my heart is now sinking as I look into the distance, feeling the ground tremble at my feet. 

The Colossus Neronis. How did forget about it? The statue’s already marching forward, the hundred-foot-tall masterpiece hitting the magic barriers of Camp Half-Blood with a blade the size of a ship rudder. Though my legs are getting me to Austin, I don't know how the heck we were going to beat this thing and put out the fire in time. 

Then… I see something. For a second I think I'm going mad due to the smoke, but then my eyes focus, getting a picture that was crystal clear for just a few precious seconds. A figure soars across the sky, glowing gold that is tinged with red as it carves through the blue sky. It collides with the Colossus, and the statue staggers back at the sheer amount of force for a few seconds. 

I heard of Deus Ex Machina. I appreciated it, derided it, criticized it, and loved the trope when it occurred on mortal media. I loved being one when I really wanted a chance to shine. But I was never on the other side, witnessing it in action until now. I can’t help but freeze in awe as the figure stopped the enemy with a single motion. 

The Colossus stares at the figure for a few seconds, but that was all the figure needed. They unsheathe a sword which glows with the same aura that enshrouds its wielder and slices towards the machine. The blast it unleashed was thin, yet shined with the intensity of a laser, and the figure sheathes the blade.

Then the Colossus is split straight down the middle as soon as I blink, one half superheated to the point it was a mirror of the horizon before both sides fell towards the distant hill. A threat that would’ve stomped Camp Half-Blood is defeated in just a few seconds. Numbly I could hear someone shouting in frustration, but who it was, I didn’t pay attention. 

The figure turns, and it takes me a second to realize - somehow, they were facing me. Then in a second they fly where I’m at with the speed of a fighter jet, landing next to the flames. The figure’s still covered by that blinding light, but the shadow of their palm is visible, and it sucked in the Greek fire like a vacuum until there was nothing left. 

Loud clapping resonated across the grove, and it takes me a moment to register who its coming from - Nero. Nero’s clapping at the figure with a rare expression on his face - one of respect. 

“So, the rumors are true. A new Ascendant has reached the ranks of Olympus.” 

“And I heard rumors that the supposed dead are walking. Guess it’s time to confirm that they’re going to stay rumors.”

I don’t have a chance to react at the implications, and neither does Nero. The figure grasps the emperor by the collar and tosses him to the air in one smooth swing of their arm, too fast for Nero to defend himself. The figure unsheathes their sword once again and this time the motion is too fast for me to keep track of. When its done, only the blessing of immortality prevents a pink and red puree of organs and blood from spilling out out when the figure kicks Nero in the chest as a final coup de grace. Instead, Nero is shattered into a pile of golden blood and dust.

Meg screams. The hostages start to wake at the sound, shaking off their varying degrees of unconsciousness at the peal of the alarm. Austin’s the first to register his surroundings, and there’s a smile on my son’s face. “I knew you’d come. You’re always looking out for us.” 

Part of me wants to take the win. But I know Austin’s eyes aren’t focused on me. No, they’re focused on the figure, whose aura is slowly dimming with each passing second. Reverence. Respect. Worship. Emotions seen so rarely in demigods these days are plain to see in my son’s gaze. 

“Thank your father. His prayer wouldn’t have allowed me to pinpoint your location.” The figure’s aura vanishes completely, and suddenly everything makes sense in the most horribly right way. 

Austin did something that was akin to a chuckle. "But you are. Your temple wouldn't have been raised at Camp if you weren't."

My mind was still looking at him. Curly hair that was black like ashes. Light brown skin that sometimes reminded me of copper. A smile that radiated mischief in a way that would rival Hermes. All of those are staring right back at me, and now part of me wants to slap myself for being an utter idiot.

My mind flashes to Sally Jackson’s shrine, the picture and statuette surrounded by food. Then it moves towards the monument at Camp Half-Blood. The gratitude people showed whenever they made a call with the cellphone they used. Nico giving a weird look at the deck of Mythomagic cards that featured Leo. Harley’s confidence when I expressed my condolences at losing his half sibling. “It’s okay. He’ll be here soon.”

Leo never died. Or at least, he didn't die in the traditional sense of the word. Because the person in front of me isn't the same nervous boy who traded an impromptu masterpiece of an instrument for the Curse of Delos. He also very much isn't the demigod who slayed Gaea.

Leo Valdez is a god. The third Ascendant of Olympus. The thought passes through my brain like one of my father’s lightning bolts. My legs turn to jelly, and I barely see Leo catching me with a look of worry on his face before everything turns black. 

[synonymouswithanonymous]

reblog with updates!

As always skip if uninterested, to repeat, not talking about all fans when I use "you/their" just the extreme haters of the hate train (whomever called it that was right). I'm just going to reblog this every so often!! There's so many lies about this woman, and a ton of baseless irrational and ridiculous hate. So here are SOME of the lies told about Johanne Milland, lies told bc her haters are jealous and mad she's dating their celebrity crush. Misogyny is real.

kajaklaudia122 asked:

What lies? Could you justify and give some precise examples. I'm curious 🙂

synonymouswithanonymous answered:

where to begin? I've written about loads of them. Mistranslating her words. I've said that one repeatedly. As I've said before some people have created fictions in their heads and hardcore believe these lies they're spewing. A whole list of pure speculation, presented as facts (another post).

Claiming she's got *insert multiple medical disorders as an insult* How would we know of anything other than what she's talked about? You can't diagnose over social media clips. It's just more lies. Lies designed to make her look bad.

Claiming she's abusive behind closed doors. How would we know? This is speculative lying to further claim she's "bad" etc.

Claiming to know "their real timeline" when all we have is speculation, they want to say shes a cheater. That's clear character assassination, by creating a lie, and repeating it a lot, to try to make her look bad. Or make him look bad by calling him a homewrecker. Just claiming to know a timeline of a life you don't know or live, is a lie by itself.

Claiming she's not a real survivor of abuse, or uses it to further her career is not only twisted, but again creating a fiction to rail at her, just bc you don't like her is a cruel, unsympathetic lie.

Claiming she's manipulating him, as if anyone outside his real life would know? People are claiming this as fact, like they have proof. No there's literally no proof, just opinions. To claim this as a fact is a bold face lie.

That she pushed him into revealing their relationship before he was ready. As if we could know? To create fiction just bc you don't like her, is a lie. He'd been spotted out with her before April.

I made a whole post about how haters claim she "chains" him to her side, and he never gets to see friends, family or work. These are lies. From several pictures and projects, this is an outright misrepresentation of the truth. And also, again, just bc it's not posted and we don't see it, doesn't mean it's not happening. But clearly he isn't chained at her side lol.

Trying to twist everything she does from cupcakes to war, into Something to justify calling her an evil leech worm etc. Is a type of lying imo to force a narrative designed to hurt her.

Example: That her ladybug book video was her "flipping off the fans." Now that's just a ridiculous twisting of a video.

That she's "mocking the mentally disabled" by "talking funny", she was speaking Norwegian. That by dancing she was doing the same. These are horrible abusive lies to try to spread around about someone. That was repeated quite a bit, they were serious. Again, speaking another language and dancing on a red carpet? This makes someone want to spread malicious lies about her that she's mocking the disabled bc they don't like she's dating AHA. Don't get me started on the stereotypes about the disabled that that person wants to perpetuate. And I'll also point out, when this popped up the first time, a fan with 1994 in their name was openly mocked for liking Johanne. Their malicious ridicule of that person, still bothers me. But that's gone off topic.

To say she was pissed at a premiere before they revealed themselves, by the "look" on her face. Maybe they saw different clips, bc the ones I saw only the back of her head was seen. So not sure how her facial expression was "glaring" lol. So more lies.

They want to act like she's jealous of him being around other people, even coworkers, lol, this makes no sense. Zero sense, no proof. But this is how haters want to portray her bc they want to make her a villain.

Extra sidenote: They post about their fantasies of her committing acts of self harm. This is twisted, surely this isn't "be the change you want to see in the world"? Self harm isn't funny, disorders are not punchlines and insults. This is taking your jealously too far. Not only should things like that not be written, they shouldn't be published. When people write to me and say things like that about these haters, I don't publish it. And I tell them I do NOT think it is ever ok to have those types of fantasies about anyone, let alone someone you don't know. I don't condone that kind of sick BS. And it is sick.

Literally the only factual truths we have are these, they are a couple, they live together, they say they love each other, they're vacationing in Italy. They're both actors. Those are facts, bc they just exist without interpretation. Now if you're not one of the ones who genuinely believe everything they're saying about her, then I'm glad. You understand we don't know them in reality. I'm more of a benefit of the doubt, easy going person. I like her and she seems great to me. But will we ever know if either one of them is as nice as they appear to be? Nope.

That's just off the top of my head, we could debate the laws of the art world etc but meh. I don't really care one way or the other where someone draws inspiration. From pastiche, fair use, fan fiction, gifs, whatever, just be creative how you want to be. So I guess calling her an art thief would be a lie also, by laws definition she's not (made a post about art, links to laws) . I like Weird Al too, he's hilarious lol. I could see fair point, if someone morally disagrees with the practice, but it's not imo a big deal.

And to add another:

Also I think the idea that she should sit quietly in a corner, invisible, so that her light never shines at all bc doing so dims his light is misogynistic. That she should just never post anything bc it's "torture" for them is immature jealousy. Why should someone with her longstanding awesome career since 2016, with her talent, her looks, should be silent bc some fans of her boyfriend, think she should go sit quietly in a corner never to be seen (I've read that exact sentiment many times). It's misogyny and immature jealously, with a fringe of zero understanding about their industry and what it takes to survive and thrive in it.

There's a reason he liked the comment with "insufferable fans" in the comment, in response to people calling his GF "toxic."

But if being the kind of person that enjoys calling a woman none of us know, "leech/whore/bitch/worm/toxic narc etc etc etc then that's who they are. Or calling her ugly, fat, flabby (more lies she's what 125lbs max?). And more, then I guess that's the "change they want to see in the world." Personally, I think people should be kind about others, put their petty jealous rage to the side, and just support each other. Be happy for people, celebrate their success. Be happy they are happy. Women should support each other too, not tear them down. So I'll just reblog this, so the ridiculous lies can just keep getting exposed. 😊😊 anyways have a happy sunday to those that made it this far lol!!!

[biggaybunny]

Several years ago I came across on my dashboard a little comic that left in me such a deep and intense sense of horror that it's haunted me ever since, though that is partially because of how my brain regularly revisits bad memories against my will for the express purpose of torturing me. Anyway, the point of this preamble is to serve as a content warning for existential horror, I guess.

The comic was simple, and pretty well burned in to my memory, so let me describe it for you first; a time traveler (a young woman) pops into frame and declares their excitement to explore the future. They are immediately greeted by a small feline robot that offers them a key to "their room", and a pill that will make them feel every kind of happiness at once. The time traveler refuses the offer, saying that they don't want simple happiness, and get their thrills from the sense of adventure. The robot explains that yes, no worry, that thrill is one of the things she'll feel once she's taken that pill. The time traveler agrees to try it for "just a minute". The comic cuts to the time traveler sitting on a chair in a small, completely barren room, with an IV hooked up to her. She is drooling and her eyes completely unfocused. We zoom out to see her room is just a small box next to many, each with a similar occupant, and we see rows and rows and rows of such boxes, implying this to be the fate of humanity. The comic ends there.

Just retelling this comic makes me want to puke, so distressing it is to me. I was also distressed by the person reblogging it who in the tags talked about how they felt this was a good fate for humanity; I blocked the post (I have thankfully never seen it again, despite blocking it multiple versions of xkit ago) and unfollowed the person who put it on my dash, and have never spoken to them again.

It's hard to explain exactly why I find this scenario so terrifying. It truly does shake me to my core. It's horrifying because it is a kind of living death, I suppose. A prison that cannot be escaped from. The mind is gone, or effectively gone, while the body remains. And there feels like there would be no saving someone from such a fate. What would happen to a person who experienced such a pure bliss, if you tried to cut them off from it? Do you think they'd find a return to existence anything less than traumatizing? That their minds would even be able to start working again, after what had happened? I don't see how. That's what makes it such a horrifying fate, to me. Once encountered, the person is lost, even as their body continues to function.

I also hate it because I've found it hard to refute as a potential fate for humanity. It gets kind of philosophically thorny. Our brains are just chemical machines; what is the difference between a sensation of pleasure earned versus one that's been chemically induced? What difference does it make if it's "real"? What does "real" mean? Is the person who climbs a mountain in a videogame not entitled to a sense of accomplishment the same as a person who really climbs a mountain? What about a mountain in vr? How far do we have to abstract away from the truth -- that every experience results in the production of a chemical cocktail by one part of our body to be processed by another part of our body -- for a sensation to "mean" something? Isn't pleasure something we all pursue, in some form, anyway? Isn't the goal of every moral framework out there to find a way so all involved can live happily? Why is it okay to imperfectly pursue pleasure of some kind -- satisfaction, ecstasy, triumph, whatever -- but not okay to pursue it optimally? If neither is okay, what are we all living for?

I refuse to accept this, because there's no room for both a world where this ultimate pleasure pill exists and a world where humanity continues. You can't say "this can exist and some people wouldn't take it". It renders all pursuits of humanity pointless. The thrill of discovery? That's just chemicals. The joy of companionship? Chemicals. All things we feel are just chemicals; we are just chemicals. This thought has never scared me before, but that's perhaps because on some level, I always took it for granted that consciousness was somehow... special. Something more important, something you can't just... bypass. But I know that that's not true.

Maybe consciousness is still the answer. Maybe our consciousness is what makes us human, and needs to be protected. I feel unsure if I've explained why I'm so sure that the scenario described in that comic would obliterate consciousness; it feels self-evident to me that the individual must be destroyed in such a scenario, because they are unable to take any action including thinking, because they have been robbed of all reason to act or think, or in other words, the very ability to think.

I do not rely on instinctive reactions to guide my moral philosophy, so my revulsion alone is not a reason to condemn it. Perhaps, however, in this case my revulsion is justified, for the destruction of the mind is truly immoral thing. It does not perfectly answer why the destruction of the mind is a horrible thing, because, again, we are not special. We are an accident of atoms in a mechanical universe, or at least so I believe (unfortunately). I suppose, when you get to the heart of the issue, I'm simply asking what is the point of it all? If it doesn't have a point, doesn't that make all the struggle pointless too? Doesn't it mean we may as well strap ourselves in and have super-heroin drip-fed into our brains for our entire lives? And if so, why do I find that so terrifying? Is my terror just an accident of my evolution-designed brain, that contains in it the same desires to preserve and proliferate my kind as the slime mold?

This is the part where I'm supposed to come up with an answer. Something that irrefutably denies the idea that some kind of super-pleasure-cocktail could replace the enormity of life. But I don't know. In order to deny it, we have to decide on a meaning to our lives that categorically excludes it as a valid option. And there's no such universally agreed upon meaning to life. But maybe that's the answer, itself. We contain within ourselves the ability to decide for ourselves what it all means. We have free will; even if the universe turns out to be perfectly deterministic on the scale we're on, we won't ever know our decisions until we make them. It is this free will that the scenario I've gone on about destroys, because as I've said, there is no way for this to exist alongside other choices to live. Maybe you don't believe that. Or maybe you're one of the sorry kinds that think we should all be living in tiny boxes, our brains turned into nothing but organic chemical processing machines that take in chemicals and produce other chemicals. If that's the case, I think I hate you. But that's the best I can do to stop being haunted by a stupid comic I saw five or six years ago now. That's really all this is about.

Sorry for subjecting you all to this, it's really just for my own sake. I just needed to write my thoughts down. I've tried writing this post a couple times over the years, and always scrapped it. It just upsets me that much. I'm a neurotic little freak and I wish I wasn't being constantly tortured by my own mind. Maybe you got something out of this, maybe I disturbed you, in which case I'm sorry. Hopefully you can find a better way to cope than I did.

Maybe in the future I'll post the other thoughts that my brain uses to torture me, like the short story I read about that taught me what autocannibalism is, or the time in the 4th grade I touched a girl's thigh by accident. It's not much fun being me, most the time. Anyway, I'll stop procrastinating and post this. Sorry again.