#I had two job interviews one of which said that I can start with them (but I think I am going to abstain)

[owlask]

You know things are chaotic again when I rarely post

[azulhood]

Danny and Jazz were almost at the end of their rope.

They've checked almost everyone they knew who would take them in.

Sam's family? Didn't want them living under the same roof as their daughter.

Mr Lancer? He did actually want to take them in but his one bedroom apartment was not a suitable place for kids to live and his teachers salary couldn't afford to support three people.

Tucker's family? Got shut down by Vlad.

Which was the end of the list of who could get custody, well living at least.

There was no way either of them were living with Vlad, and with that in mind, they decided to get creative.

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

When Edward woke up, sitting at an old interrogation table in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse (don't ask him which one, gothem had too many) and splitting pain in his head from most likely getting knocked out, his first thought was I knew it.

Gotham rogues had been disappearing only to reappear the next day with no memory and often in bad shape, like black mask and Bane.

Some of the rogues, such as penguin and Ivy, believed that they would be safe from the next attack.

Edward was slightly more pessimistic.

And it turned out he was right.

"ahem." Noise brought his attention to the warehouses other occupants.

Two teenagers.

It was strange to think that these two put Bane into a coma, but Edward had spent most of his nights getting the stuffing beaten out of him by a child wearing the colours of a traffic light so he was suitably wary.

"How can I help you?" Being polite was always a good idea when kidnapped by possible meta children (because no normal person could walk away from a fight with Bane, the bats don't qualify as normal.)

"Hi, I'm Jazz and this is Danny." The red head introduced herself and the blue eyed boy next to her. "Nice to meet you Mr Nygma."

"Nice to meet you as well." His mouth responded on autopilot as he panicked over being addressed by name, no one who kidnapped him did that ( which was mostly the bats taking him back to Arkham after another foiled plan) unless they were Amanda Waller.

"Right, now that we all know each other, let's get started." Danny said pulling out a sheet of paper and star themed pen from somewhere.

"Get started on what?" Torture? Edward would really like to know if that was the case.

"The interview." Jazz explained " You just have to answer a few questions then you get to go, after we wipe your memory of course, we have someone who we don't want knowing we're in Gotham."

"Oh, of course." Edward replied faintly as he processed the information given to him.

"And if you get job we'll contact you in a week." Danny added as he twirled his pen. "Got it?"

"Yes." Edward had never been more confused in his life.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you. 

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky. 

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected. 

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces. 

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different. 

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction. 

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait. 

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore. 

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks. 

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in. 

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is. 

Maybe he’s it. 

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine. 

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom. 

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him. 

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists. 

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust. 

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet. 

And you have a heated… What was it called again? 

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay. 

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you. 

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind. 

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works. 

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water. 

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery. 

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable. 

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.  

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen. 

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact. 

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?” 

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake. 

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather. 

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask. 

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks. 

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed. 

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him. 

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating. 

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice. 

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to. 

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his. 

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality. 

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea. 

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna. 

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now. 

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most. 

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice. 

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end. 

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t. 

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken. 

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting. 

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room. 

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track. 

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command. 

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep. 

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him. 

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features. 

“Love… you’re awake.”

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

💌 next chapter

Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[lihhelsing]

"Can I get your coffee order?"

STWG daily prompt 6/2/24 (let's pretend it's not two days late): Coming Out Pairing: steddie | tags: coming out, coffee shop au, modern au, meet cute, fluff

Eddie was used to seeing the same guy in the coffee shop every day. It was impossible not to notice him because he was gorgeous and Eddie was a simple man who liked to admire beautiful things. 

So Steve would come in every day and always at the same time, ordering the same thing. Double Espresso with a shot of Vanilla. It suited him, Eddie thought, but he would always see him looking at the menu as if he was considering ordering something different, just to end up with the same thing every day. 

It was kind of cute. 

Sometimes he would sit alone for half an hour, face buried in his phone. Sometimes a loud brunette girl would join him but then they would never stay for long. Eddie didn’t like those days even if he thought she looked like a nice person. 

And then sometimes Steve would come in and order for two, then he would proceed to sit at a table and in a few minutes a girl would join him. Always a different girl, which told Eddie none of them were his girlfriends. 

One could even think this was some sort of job interview because it was pretty clear Steve wasn’t fully into the conversation. He was trying, sure, but after an hour the girl would inevitably excuse herself and leave. Steve would hang out for a few more minutes and then leave too, not looking back. 

And he’d do it all over again on a different day. 

Eddie couldn’t even feel guilty about paying attention. Steve always came in when the rush hour had passed and the coffee shop was mostly empty, and Eddie didn’t have much to do. And yeah, sure he was also a little obsessed with him so he was curious what was all that about. 

Surely Steve didn’t seem the kind of guy to have dating issues. 

The day Eddie noticed something was different was when Steve came in and ordered a Chai Latte. For anyone else, this might mean nothing, but Eddie knew better and he had watched Steve for long enough to know that if he finally changed his order after months, something was up. 

He didn’t want to look like a creep so he smiled like he always did and thanked the fat tip Steve left him, like he always did. And maybe Eddie flirted a little, but who could blame him? Steve was just too handsome for his own good and Eddie was just a man. 

Eddie gave him his drink and politely waited for a few minutes just to make sure Steve wasn’t expecting anyone, and then he finally moved in. 

“Hey, how’s your drink?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Steve looked up at him through thick eyelashes and Eddie wanted to die a little. 

“Oh, it’s good. I never had one of these so I can’t really compare it to anything else, but I like how it tastes.”

Eddie hummed, “Well, tell you what, I make a mean Matchá if you ever feel like broadening your horizons.”

Steve chuckled and nodded, “I might take you up on that, actually.”

They stood in silence and Eddie was ready to accept his defeat when Steve spoke again. 

“I just… Started to realize I might want to try different things.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “how so?”

“Well, I used to drink the same coffee every day and it was good, don’t get me wrong. But I kept looking and looking and it felt like I was... Missing something,” Steve frowned as he spoke, almost as if he was talking about coffee but thinking about something else. 

“It’s what they say, don’t knock it til you try it, am I right?”

Steve chuckled and Eddie was under the impression he was just being polite. 

“For sure. It’s just hard sometimes, to try new things. Even if you are… Curious.”

“I say just go for it. The worst that can happen is you spend a few bucks on something you will never want to drink again, but if that ever happens I got you. I’ll get you something different on the house,” Eddie said and then he winked because he was a sick little man. 

The blush that crept onto Steve’s cheek was beautiful, though, so he was only half-sorry. 

“Oh, what if… It’s not coffee that I want to try?” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

Eddie smiled and motioned his hand to the drink menu, “Lucky for you we have an assortment of drinks like refreshers and matchá and even some teas-“

“I mean, what if this isn’t about drinks?” 

Now Eddie was completely lost. He looked back to meet Steve’s eyes and there was an intensity behind them that gave him chills. 

“What do you mean?”

“I, um…” Steve looked around as if making sure the place was empty and still lowered his voice a little. “What if I’m not as straight as I always thought I was?”

Eddie tried to contain his surprise and forced his expression to remain neutral, not wanting to spook him. 

“That’s ok, too. Lord knows I’m gay as it comes and it took me a few tries to figure it out,” Eddie chuckled, but Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I mean, you don’t have to be gay either! You can be bi or pan or-“

“Sorry, I made this awkward. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having these feelings and Robin says I can always talk to her but it feels that if I even ask it will be real and then if I turn out to be just confused then she will be disappointed because she always said I was her straight token friend but I know she would be happy if I wasn’t-“

“Hey, hey,” Eddie moved his hand and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly. He just hoped he wasn’t crossing a line. That definitely wasn’t the first time a customer said something incredibly personal out of the blue, but it was the first time someone was coming out to him like that. 

Steve looked up at him with huge brown eyes and Eddie felt his insides melting a little. Here it was, this cute guy having a sexuality crisis and just looking even cuter. 

“I don’t know you and obviously don’t know this friend of yours. Robin, is it? But if she loves you, and I’m assuming she does, she will love you no matter what. Even if you have to come out to her as… Straight?” Eddie said that and got a snort back from Steve. 

At least that was better than the desolation he had in his eyes before. 

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, nodding his head. 

“And hey, you can definitely try things out and figure out you were straight all along, but from my experience, straight people don’t usually question their sexuality or even feel the curiosity to do so. They just are. So my best bet would be on you being one of us. Assuming your friend Robin is also not straight.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Steve said, laughing and he just looked so much better like that. 

“Well, ok Steve, then my job here is done! I’m sure Robin will have much better advice to give to you, but you can always count on me to try different coffees,” and there it was, the fucking wink again. Who did Eddie think he was? 

Steve blushed again and now Eddie could see they were pretty damn close. He slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s shoulder as to not make him uncomfortable, but it seemed that Eddie’s pep talk had done the trick because now Steve had this glint in his eyes. 

“Can I buy you coffee?” he asked, smiling slowly. 

“Uh, what?”

“You know, since I’m already trying things I thought it would be nice to try uh… A Matchá, you said? And a… Date?”

Holy fucking Jesus. Steve was fucking smooth. Eddie felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked around to conclude they were still alone at the coffee shop. There was not a single reason for him to turn this down even if Steve ended up figuring out he was straight. Yeah, fat chance. 

“Lead the way, big boy,” Eddie motioned for the counter and Steve smiled, nodding and following him right into their first date. 

[leclucklerc]

Hard Carry CL16 - 00.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Summary: When you're talking about one of the greats in Formula One, y/n is up there.

Word Count: 1.3K

Masterlist Next

Drive to Survive, Season 1 Episode 3

It's all about Porsche

"There's just something about Porsche that attracts you."

The scene cuts into Porsche's jet black F1 car zooming pass the screen in a top speed. The sound of the loud roar from the engine, as well as the checkered flag that was being waved as the car glide through the finish line is a sight to behold.

"Their team is new in Formula one," said Will Buxton as he leaned back on his seat. The pitch black backdrop is almost poetic considering which team they're discussing right now. "They debuted in 2012, and never looked back ever since."

At this, the scene cuts into a compilation of Formula one announcer announcing many of Porsche's achievements. From the constructor championships, to the world driver championships. An intimidating music can be heard playing in the background before it switches back into the interviewer room. Though, this time, it's not Will Buxton who sat there.

A man with greying hair and pitch black shirt could be seen. There's a small logo of Porsche on his breast pocket. Besides that, the shirt is void from any decoration. Just like how the man expression is void from any emotions.

"Hello," started the man, eyes zeroing straight towards the camera. "I'm Herman Muller, the team principal for the Porsche Royale Formula 1 team."

The scene changed into Porsche's Formula One garage. The pitch black theme with golden accent could be seen everywhere as the mechanics and engineers huddled along the car that they had created for the past year.

"We are a German based team," said Herman as many compilations appeared on the scene. Many of those, are the team celebrating their wins. "A fairly new player in the game, but a tough one, certainly." His English is loaded with German accent, though it only made him seems a bit intimidating.

Constructor championship.

Driver championship.

Many trophies could be seen lining the wall of their factory back in Leipzig. Pictures of their Formula One cars too could be seen littered around the wall.

"When Porsche came, it brought a lot of excitement," said Will as he gripped his hands together. There's excitement evident on his eyes as he began the tale. "There are a lot of buzz here and there about the team. After all, it was the first time FIA had decided to expand the sport." As he said this, clips of articles and old interviews from back in 2012 can be seen playing.

The decision that FIA made to add one more team in the sport after decades. It's for the fans, they had said. To add more excitement and enjoyment for the sport.

"I think our team motto is the reason why we can become like this," said Herman as the camera switched back to him. "Complete domination."

Sounds of machine whirring could be heard as a clip from recent grand prix could be seen. It's a fight between Porsche and Red Bull. A fight, that the pitch black car wins easily.

"Porsche managed to become one of F1 top team during their debut year, and they only ever skyrocketed ever since then," continue Will, he sounds every bit amazed at that. "Every year, without fail, they will always become a favorite to win the championship."

"It's a rocket ship," said Herman as the scene changed towards mechanics and engineers did their adjustment towards their car in the garage. There's a serious air around them as they continue their job. "I like to think that we're building a rocket ship, and not cars."

A compilation of the pitch black car zooming in front of the camera could be seen.

"Besides the complete monstrosity that they call car," said Will, eyes full of amusement. "Their driver lineup is, is simply incredible."

Two people could be seen walking through the grid in a dramatic slow motion. Only their bottom half could be seen, both wearing dark colored pants and sneakers. 

"We have the most amazing driver lineup in the grid," mused out Herman as the scene changed back to him, letting out a small laugh. His previous lack of emotions has changed as a clear mirth could be seen shining through hid eyes. "A really unique one."

Well, unique is an understatement.

Will laughed, head nodding. "Their number one driver is probably the favorite driver is most definitely the favorite driver on the track-"

The scene changed into many race compilations, as a pitch black car with the number 1 could be seen overtaking Ferrari's familiar deep red car as well as Mercedes's during their highest height. Checkered flag could be seen waving around as the car zoomed past it, as it was announced as the winner of the race.

"And the favorite off the track."

Kring! Kring!

At the familiar sound of a bicycle bell, many turned their gazes towards the source of it. Almost immediately, their faces broke into smile as they laid their eyes on the person riding the vehicle. The camera is positioned at the back, showcasing long hair with dark Porsche hat on top of it.

As she made her way, many people greeted the woman in a friendly greetings. Some drivers like Daniel Ricciardo or Lewis Hamilton too could be seen waving or trying to make small talk with the rider of the bicycle. With those small interactions, it's clear that she's a popular face here in the grid.

The scene changed towards the interview room where a woman could be seen sitting on the chair. She looks oddly comfortable. As if there's no whole production crew staring at her just beyond the camera.

"Can I start?" she asked, voice soft. Long hair styled perfectly and bright eyes could be seen staring straight towards the camera.

"Yes, yes, start when you feel ready," voiced out the producer.

Said woman laughed, eyes crinkling and cheek rosy. "Well, hello, everyone, Netflix, and new Formula One fans, hopefully," grinned the woman as a round of small laughter rang through the room. Pearly white teeth could be seen under the painted lips. "I'm y/n l/n and I drive for Porsche Formula One team."

"Please say the full team name," said the producer.

Y/n blinked, before the grin on her face widened. "Ah, I completely forgot what it is. Better call Herman, no?"

After that introduction, a camera that was being placed on top of Porsche's garage as the car did a pitstop could be seen showcasing the Drive to Survive opening. 

The scene cuts back towards the dark colored interview room. The name y/n l/n now could be seen besides the female as the title as Porsche's driver could be seen underneath it. Besides that, another addition also can be seen.

Three times world champion.

It's a title that many would salivate at the mere thought of. The very dream of every driver that ever graced Formula One.

Various news outlet appeared at this. News anchor announcing y/n's debut back in 2012. Of her, being the first female formula one driver in decades. Of her, as the youngest person to actually managed to snagged one of the most coveted seats in motorsport. Of her, breaking many unseen boundaries and limitations that the sport had put.

A photo of her on the cover of Times Magazine could be seen. Posing comfortably in front of her Formula One car as she holds her helmet.

"Y/n is probably the biggest star that F1 has ever produced," said Will as the screen shows Y/n's instagram page with a whooping 50 million followers. And counting. "She's completely charismatic woman-"

A scene where y/n is mingling with people in the paddock was seen. Laughters could be heard as a response to whatever she said. They seems magically charmed and completely fixated on the woman.

"- a fashion icon-"

Y/n now can be seen in Paris Fashion Week, sitting front row with various celebrities near her.

"- life of the party -"

A ecstatic y/n could be seen spraying champagne to other fellow drivers. The atmosphere is light and full of teasing and banters.

"- And of course, a damn good driver."

The scene changed into a dramatic turn that the woman made in one of the corners. The screeching sound of tires meeting gravel could be heard as she propelled into full speed, easily overtaking cars that stood in front of her. A scene where she was crowned as that year world champion also can be seen as she celebrated with the team.

It changed back to the interview room, where the woman could be seen completely relaxed as she smiled. 

"Do you think you're a good driver?" asked the producer.

Y/n tilted her head before various clips appeared.

"AND Y/N L/N IS THIS YEAR WORLD CHAMPIOOON-!" She could be seen spraying champagne.

"TWO YEARS IN A ROW! Y/N L/N IS A WORLD CHAMPIOON-!" A clip of her spraying champagne once again was shown.

"AND YET, SHE MANAGED TO TAKE BACK HER CROWN AS A WORLD CHAMPION!" And another clip of her spraying champagne towards other fellow drivers could be seen.

The loud scene full of euphoria and loud yells are cut as y/n appeared back in the interview room, a small smile on her face. The sudden change into a tense silence is a bit shocking.

"Well," she started, laughing. "I guess I'm a pretty good driver?" y/n stopped a bit. "Can definitely become an Uber as a side hustle."

[asonofpeter]

Night Shift

Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: Jaime doesn't like that you work a night shift at a bar, so setting out to get a job at Kord Industries, you're shocked when he comes home with something else....

Warnings: mentions of men being pervs, lots of screaming and a little bit of violence, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: My first full fic in a while? Yes, it is indeed and with my new love, Jaime Reyes. If you haven't seen Blue Beetle, pause and go buy a ticket cause this movie is good! So proud of mi Xolito! Anyway, I'm proud of this, so enjoy! 💕💕💕

I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.

“You don’t have to do this, y’know? I’ll get the job tomorrow and work hard to support the family and us,” Jaime stood up from your bed, grabbing hold of your hands to stop you from getting ready for work. 

“Jaime, I know you want to do everything you can to stop us from losing the house, but we need the money, wherever we can get it from,” you inhaled. 

You moved in with the Reyes three years ago after your parents kicked you out. The details are unimportant and messy but you were happy you ended up in a loving household after all. The only problem now, you’re on the brink of becoming homeless.

“But a job where drunk assholes violate you?” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes, knowing most customers haven’t gotten handsy since you started. “It’s not right,” he shook his head, squeezing your hands. “I don’t want you to have to go through that,” he rested his forehead against yours. 

You knew he meant well. It sucked having to work at a bar where wearing low-cut tops and push-up bras made for extra tips. Especially when you worked during the night. But then again, even when businesses are going bankrupt, bars are seemingly filling in at an all-time high. You had to take advantage of the dire situation even if Jaime didn’t like it.

“I can handle my own,” you smirked. “Nana taught me a thing or two,” you winked. 

“I bet she did,” he chuckled. 

“And besides,” you removed your hands from his grip, smoothing them up his arms until they rested on his biceps. “I have my big strong boyfriend to protect me,” you looked at him finding the blush forming on his face adorable.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in as he leaned forward to kiss you. His lips moved against yours slowly, one of your hands moving up to tug on the hair of the nape of his neck. 

Living in a small house with five other people gave you no privacy whatsoever, so moments like these were cherished. All those stolen glances, hidden kisses, late-night talks—it all meant something. 

“I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you in the morning,” you pulled away. 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you walk to work alone at eleven at night,” he grabbed your arm lightly, pulling you back into his embrace. “I’ll be there to pick you up at seven too,” he said and you sighed out contently.

“It means a lot, but don’t you have your job interview tomorrow?” you rested your head against his chest as you both walked out of your and Milagro’s room.

“I’ll sleep, wake up, pick you up, then come back and get ready,” he shrugged and you agreed with his well-thought-out plan. 

“Ya te vas, mija?” Rocio asked once you both entered the kitchen and you nodded. “Cuidate, y come tu comida, no quiero que te desmayes,” she handed you a paper sack and you smiled, thanking her. 

It was things like that which made you grateful for Jaime’s family—your family. The constant protection and worry they hold over you like one would for a daughter or sister. Making sure you had a lunch packed so you can eat and not faint during your shift. It warmed your heart and made you grateful every day. 

“Make sure she gets there safe, okay, Jaime?” Alberto pointed to his son and your boyfriend nodded, reassuring the two. 

Walking out of the house, you found your hands intertwined as you made your way down the block. You glanced at Jaime to find him smiling at you before he looked ahead. You grinned at the fact you caught him before you too continued your focus forward.

Palerma City was alive at night, even in the small barrio you lived in. The streets were dark, flickering lamp posts illuminating the people who were still up trying to make a living by whatever means. You looked far past, the bright neon skyline of the city, all the rows of high rises where all the rich white folk were fast asleep tucked away in silk sheets. 

You would get there one day. 

“What did my mom pack for your lunch?” he asked, pulling you out of your thought.

“A torta de jamon, an apple and orange, some Fritos, and oh, a gansito,” you gasped in excitement before you stuffed the bag in your backpack. “I know exactly what I’m eating first,” you giggled. 

“My mom literally said we ran out of gansitos,” he said in shock. “She loves you more than me,” he feigned hurt and you wrapped your arm around him, cooing as you kissed his cheek.

“What can I say? I’m lovable,” you hummed.

The two of you turned the corner and you found yourself at “Margaritaville”, the newest establishment where you got paid minimum wage and received great tips from businessmen who got off on a pretty bartender flirting with them before they made their way home to their wives. Or from people who recently got laid off from their jobs and needed someone to talk to.

Either way, you’d put on your best smile, bat your lashes and make sure your top was low enough if that meant being able to pay part of the rent.

“Be safe, okay?” Jaime pulled you in for a hug. “I’ll be awake at 6:30,” he promised. 

“I will,” you mumbled into his neck before pulling away. “See you soon,” you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

He cupped your cheek before you pulled away, your fingers pulling along his, straining to stay in touch as you kept moving toward the door until they unlinked, his arm stayed hovered in the air for a split moment while yours dropped to the side. He watched as you turned back and waved until you entered through the back door, making sure to stay for a minute before he turned back around. 

The lingering touch of you remained on his fingers until he arrived home and made his way to bed. It wasn’t fair you had to become a main stream of income for the house. It shouldn’t be you pulling in the long hours, it should be him.

He needed to get that interview at Kord Industries tomorrow.

~

You undid your apron, shoving it back into your backpack. You let out a sigh as you did a once over to the barely empty bar. The next shift already arrived and was taking care of the customers. Letting out a yawn, you placed your tips in your pocket, opening the back door only to be greeted by Jaime who was waiting at the curb.

“Buenos dias, mi amor,” he smiled and you felt your cheeks blush at the pet name he liked to change out every once in a while. “Made you breakfast,” he handed you something rolled in some paper towels before you unveiled two bean burritos. “How was work?” he kissed your cheek while he took your bag from you.

“Made $150 in tips,” you stated, biting into your food. “Getting paid tomorrow, so it went well,” you nodded. “Customers were more to themselves tonight, except for this one guy who was crying about his wife leaving him. I think he left looking for a prostitute to be honest,” you chuckled. 

“Poor dude,” he hummed. “But the money is good,” he said, wrapping his arm around you. 

The rest of the short walk was made in silence and it was calming to just have Jaime by your side. The eight-hour shift takes it out on you and you couldn’t wait to go to sleep. 

“Hola,” you greeted as you walked through the door. 

“Como te fue?” Nana asked and you responded to her before a yawn came out.

“Disculpe,” you pressed a hand to your chest. “I’m gonna go shower,” you said, the family understanding as you made your way to your room. 

After a quick shower and changing into casual wear, you felt refreshed as you walked back into the family room. The whole family was gathered as Jaime stood in the middle, hair geled back and his fancy clothes put on.

“Wow, que chulo,” you complimented with a bright smile plastered on your face as you stood behind the couch. 

“You see, cabezon? You look fine,” Uncle Rudy told his nephew and Jaime nodded in defeat, clearly flustered. “Y/N wouldn’t lie, she loves you too much for that!” he cackled and you joined in, making Jaime blush even more.

“Let’s go and get this over with, I still don’t trust that Jenny girl,” Milagro muttered under her breath and you sent a glance at Jaime. 

You were aware of what happened when Milagro and Jaime lost their job with Victoria Kord. Millie was correct to have a distaste for the older lady, but after her niece offered an olive branch, giving Jaime an opportunity–you weren’t sure if she was in the right to have that distrust. But then again, you weren’t there.

“Descansas, okay?” Nana kissed you on the cheek and gave you the blessing before she walked out and you nodded. 

The rest of the family walked out, leaving you and Jaime left. 

“Good luck, okay?” you grabbed his face and gave him a chaste good luck kiss. “I know you’re gonna woo them over,” you sent him a sure smile. 

“How are you so sure about that?” he held your wrists, running his thumbs over your delicate skin. 

“Cause, you’re Jaime Reyes”.

~

“You don’t know what’s inside?” you heard Millie ask. 

You were awakened by muffled conversations, your brows furrowing as you checked the time. They couldn’t have come back that soon and if something serious happened, they would’ve woken you up. 

About to drift back to sleep, you eyes shot open by shouting. The voices of Jaime, Millie, and Rudy combine together. Bolting out of bed fast, you opened the door and ran into the dining room, finding Millie and Rudy to be playing hot potato with a blue bug, Jaime trying to get them to stop.

“Mira, look what you did! You woke her up,” Rocio gestured to you and the room suddenly got quiet. 

“Ay, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jaime winced, trying to grab the thing from Millie but she held it out of his reach. 

“Look what Jaime brought back. That Jenny girl is a total floozy, like what is this that she gave him?” she cocked a brow, holding it clearly so you could see.

“A bug?” you rubbed your eyes. “Why would she give you a bug?” you asked, walking closer. 

“She told me to guard it with my life, I wasn’t even supposed to open it,” your boyfriend explained and his words made you uneasy. 

“I think you should put it back, you don’t know what it can be,” you turned to Millie. 

“She’s right,” Jaime held out his hand and Milagro reluctantly agreed, placing it in his palm.

You watched as he was about to place it back in the box until it lit up, his face inching closer to inspect it. You stared back in amazement, the bug coming to life.

“I think it likes me,” he grinned, glancing up at you with a twinkle in your eyes that made your heart skip a beat. But that smile was instantly wiped away the moment the bug launched itself onto his face.

“JAIME!” you screeched, the family shooting up from their seats as they tried to aid him.

“It’s on your face!” Uncle Rudy screamed before he grabbed onto the bug, attempting to rip it off but it shot out a bolt of electricity, sending him across the room and Jaime against the wall. 

Your body began to shake and you wanted to run over to help Jaime but he got up, the bug detaching from his face until it crawled over his shoulder and under his shirt like a spider you wanted off immediately. 

“Jaime!” you shouted, his body thrashing around the room like he was fighting with the bug. “Baby, please,” you cried, hands over your mouth as you tried to begin to process what was going on but you couldn’t.

“Oh god,” Jaime stilled, hunched over as he looked at you. “I think it’s inside of me,” his gaze filled with panic and you felt your skin crawl. “It’s inside of me!” he screamed, hand reaching out for yours before he doubled over in pain, the bug poking out underneath his clothes before arms pierced through, sending him up against the ceiling.

Another wave of screams sounded, the love of your life’s agony cries being the worst thing you ever heard. The tears were falling down your cheeks. You wanted to help him but couldn’t. You wanted to know what was going on but didn’t. You were completely helpless in this situation.

Black goo grew over his body, his clothes burning to crisps and you were afraid of what it was going to do once it got all of him. Were you about to lose your Jaime? How did you get to this point when it was just a job interview? 

“Y/N!” his call for you made your heart stop and you tried telling him you were here but his cries drowned it out. 

Suddenly, he was completely transformed, a suit of armor in black and blue engulfed him. The cries and the screams quieted down as you all stared at him. A split second ago, you thought he was going to die, but now he was fine? It didn’t make sense. 

“Mijo?” Rocio called out as Jaime walked over to the photo of La Virgen, his illuminating yellow eyes staring back into the reflection.

“What was that?” he looked back in shock, hands over his mouth. “Did you hear that?” his voice was panicked, his expression hidden with the eyes providing just the tiniest amount of concern. 

“Jaime, what’s going on?” you took a step forward. 

“That voice, you don’t hear a voice?” he walked forward, standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by all of you. The suit seemed to have turned on, blue light glowing between grooves and you all watched in awe. “Systems check?” he mumbled, looking around the room. 

“Jaime?” you asked, noticing the arms powering up.

“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay!” he shouted just as he was flown through the ceiling before he became a dot in the sky. 

Nothing was okay.

~

Reblogs are the best!

[iwannabe4everyoung]

Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Serie Masterlist

Coming back to the old house

The Babysitter Serie: Pt I

Pairings: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x F!Maximoff!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Summary: When you broke up with your girlfriend you decided to come back to places you know by your heart.

Warnings: Not proofreaded,

Wc: 1,5k

A/n: Nothing really happen here cuz i didn't had idea what i can add more but everything need to start somewhere.

Your girlfriend, well, now ex-girlfriend, cheated on you. You caught her red handed when you came back earlier from a job interview, than you told her. After packing all your things you left her apartment and pulled out your phone searching for your mothers number. She didn’t answer. You called three, maybe four times but all your calls got rejected. You decided to call your father, he was never answering your calls so it wasn’t surprising he did not answer now. When leaving the calls app, you saw that one number. Before you knew you were calling her. Two signals were enough. 

“Sweetheart?” Hearing this voice makes you let out sobs. 

“Hi, uhm, can..go to my home and tell my mother to call me back?” Tears falling down your face. All you needed now was a hug from your mother. 

“Shh, sweetie, chill out. I am going to Wanda, and you need to take deep breaths.” When she was saying it, you could hear sounds of leaving the house. “ Oh.. I think there's no one home.” More sobs leaving your mouth.

“Shit.. I- Thank you ms. Vidal.” You said wanting to hang up.

“I told you to just call me by mine name.” 

After a few seconds of silence she started talking again.

“You can tell me what happened. Only if you want.” And you told her.Full story with breaks to take deep breaths. She didn't need to be around for you to feel more comfortable and safe than you were a few minutes ago. “Mhmm,  I'm gonna get Agatha and Nicholas and we will come for you.”

“You don't need-”

“Y/n.” 

“Okay… Thank you..”

“No problem sweetheart.”

Rio Vidal and Agatha Harkness, family house neighbors. They bought a place next to your family when you were sixteen. At that time you saw them a few times. Your first thought was how pretty and hot they are. Not even a year later they had their new house ready to move in. That was the first time you saw their little son, Nicholas Scratch. It was weird for you, why does Nico have a different last name, but soon later you learned that they couldn't decide which last name he should have or which one should come first. They decided to name him Scratch after their rabbit, Señor Scratchy

For the first few weeks you didn't really talk, but when your parents, Wanda Maximoff and Jarvis “Vision” Stark, invited them for dinner, you started forming some kind of friendship. Your mother didn't really like them, but you saw them as pretty cool people. Soon after you learned they are witches as your mother and younger brother. Well, you kind of were a witch too but you weren’t as good as your mother or Billy. That was also the main reason Wanda never really helped you with your powers. 

As you were in high school you started spending more time in your neighbor's house than in your own. All your parents cared for were Billy and Tommy. Your younger sibling. You were often ignored, not talking about how many times they missed something important even though you asked them to attend. But Agath or Rio were always there. When you told them for the first time how Wanda missed one of your school plays, they promised either of them would be there for you. You started bonding with Nicholas too by going out on the walks with him and playing many games. 

At some point Agatha was the one to teach you how to use your, not so strong, magic. Her touches on your skin never failed to make you shiver, and the looks Rio was always giving you made your heart always stutter. 

When  you were leaving for college, you realized you felt more for them than you should. Going to another city allowed you to forget about those forbidden feelings, you even met your ex that you fell for. You promised them you would write to them but you never did. It was easier to avoid those feelings they were making you feel. Calling either of them was so embarrassing to you. You ghosted all their texts and now you called them on a random day. 

After 2 years of college you decided to abandon it and go to work, well, it was your ex's idea but you never could find any job. You and Kate met at college. She was older, and also first to talk to you and confess. She wanted you to move in with her so you did. Not even 3 months later she started saying how useless you are if you can’t even find a job. Now you know why she never wanted you home. 

“You really didn't need to come here. I Could have taken the train with my spare money.” You said after Agatha and Rio hugged you. 

You sat in the back seat, next to Nico. He only took your hand and hugged it then fell asleep again. 

“You called for a reason.�� Rio said first. 

“Besides I don't think you would be able to go on the train judging how you look.” Said Agatha, concentrating on the road. 

“Agatha.” Rio slapped her arm. “We care about you sweetheart, we are friends right?

You only nodded looking out of the window. 

After a long ride and not so long talks you arrived at your small city. Nicholas sleeping on your knees. He crawled on them somewhere in the middle of the ride. You took your things and after thanking Agatha and Rio for the hundred times, you walked to the doors of your own house. You grabbed the door handle.Closed. So you knocked. And knocked. And your father opened doors. We had a fancy suit on him, his blue eyes piercing through you.

“You don't need to pretend to be human, it's just me dad.” You said with a joking tone but with a serious face.

“What are you doing here?” That was the first word he said to you.

“You won’t even let your own daughter in?”

“Sorry, yeah, come in Y/n.” He moved aside so you could walk in. Even took your bag. “Me and your mother just came back from the Tonys party. 

“That's why you couldn't even pick up the phone.” You said sarcastically and wanted to roll your eyes, but your mother walked to the room at the same time

“Baby, what are you doing here?” She looked more surprised than Vision.

At first you stayed silent and hugged your mother. After a few seconds you started talking, but you couldn't tell them everything. You didn't tell them most of the story, as much as you needed them ,  needed your mother arm around you, you don't feel that emotionally close to them to tell all things that happened. So you shortened it to how Kate cheated on you and that you don't have a place to stay now. 

It was always like that. You spend most of your childhood and teenhood in your room or your neighbors house because your own parents were often forgetting about you, patronizing your younger brothers. 

“Ohh baby, I’m sorry. I'm gonna prepare a guest room for you… Your room is now Williams room.” Wanda petted your head leaving you with your father. 

“Y/n!” You heard Tommy's voice and soon after two bodies were hugging you. 

After spending time with your brothers, not like you had any choice. They decided you will sit with them and talk, and maybe play on playstation. By playing together they meant you would sit and watch them play. Last time you saw Billy and Tommy was more than a year ago. You had a big argument with Wanda and Vision back then. You invited them to dinner with your ex-girlfriend. You can’t even remember why you started to argue, for sure it was something stupid like always. But this time you stopped talking. Few times you wanted to send a message to your mother, but Kate was always faster to say about how badly they treated you and you don't need them. 

After Wanda made boys go to wash and sleep, you could finally have some alone time. You didn't think you would ever again sleep under your parents roof, but here you are. You were quietly listening to music, soft sounds always were helping you to fall asleep,but soon music stopped when you started getting notifications. Reading the first of them made your heart stop for a while.

Rio Vidal made group chat with you and Agatha Harkness

Rio: Hi sweetheart :D

Rio: We hope we can back in touch, we missed you

Agatha: Nicholas missed you

Rio: We and Nico missed you

Agatha: Rio and Nico*

Rio: I'm gonna kill you.

You: I missed you too

You: Sorry I ghosted you for… such a long time

You: Life was kinda hard

Rio: It’s okay dear, college is big step

You: Yeah, but it wasn’t fair to you 

Rio: Leave it

Rio: Why don’t we meet tomorrow?

Rio: We could talk about everything

You: Why did Agatha stop replying?

Rio: She's pretty busy now

Rio: Well, what will you say?

Rio:  Wanna meet?

Rio: Tomorrow, at our place, maybe 7? or 8?

[lexirosewrites]

Slick Sundaaaaaaay!

I see a lot of ABO steddie fics featuring Omega Steve who is self conscious for one reason or another because he doesn't have a typical Omega physic and/or behaviors (which is super tasty yum yum) but I live the idea of Eddie being the more swlf conscious one.

Like, Eddie who is not deceptively strong for his size (he has a little bit of natural muscle tone as an Alpha but he never puts it to good use), and who is a little weasel who like to agrivate people but runs away from any kind of real conflict and doesn't have a strong manly scent or any desire for a high powered job to take care of an Omega unless you count is half fleshed out dreams of being a rock star.

Dealers choice of how it happens but Steve basically asks Eddie if he would be interested in couting the Omega and Eddie isn't blind, stupid, or heartless so he jumps on the chance to be with the Omega of his dreams but very quickly finds himself self agonizing about how to be the "right kind" of Alpha for Steve.

So decides he needs to start working out so he can keep his Omega safe even if he knows Steve is more than capable of taking care of himself in that department but his first workout sends him into an asthma attack for the ages so he decides it's more important for Steve to have a living Alpha than a fit one.

There's nothing much he can do about his wet concrete and grass scent which on paper sounds super manly but mostly just smells like a suburban morning so he goes down the employment seeking rabbit hole. He applies for what feels like every Alpha-y job in the Hawkins area but his reputation proceeds him and he never makes it past the first interview. Eventually he gets a call back from a place he applied for after reading the word "painter" and wrote down the number in his notebook with no notes (he didn't say he had a good system) but it turns out to be someone two towns over looking for someone to freelance the painting of dnd and other such figures to sell in a games shop two towns over. It's an ideal job for Eddie but it's deeply entrenched in his need shit and not the kind of thing he was looking for to impress Steve and show him he can provide for him and their future pups. He still takes it because even if it doesn't pay a tone, whatever he DOES make can go toward pampering his Omega and saving up.

It all comes to a head when they go out and Eddie is feeling pretty down on himself after so many failed attempts to "improve" for his Love. Some guy is hitting in Steve while Eddie is RIGHT THERE even though Steve has said no many times and has told him he's there with his Alpha. The guy just keeps leaving and coming back and on his fourth return to their spot Eddie just launches is fist no warning into the guy's face.

That was NOT what he meant to do, he was just getting so fed up and territorial and he was gonna really tell the guy to piss off but the little goblin inside him made him throw a pretty pathetic punch that results in a busted knuckle for him and a slightly bruised and irate beta in front of them.

Steve drags him out and takes him back to the trailer, grumbling the whole time about "stupid Alphas and their stupid instincts" and finally snaps and asks Eddie what the hell has been up with him lately. Eddie just blinks his big dumb eyes at Steve as he points out the job search and the asthma hospital visit and the more expensive gifts and finally asks why he's been acting like such a knot head.

So they talk it out and Steve makes Eddie hold him in his lap so he can tell him all the ways, the ways that matter to Steve, that Eddie takes care of him. Tells him how he doesn't need an Alpha to fight for him but he's never had an Alpha offer him sanctuary like Eddie does. Eddie who never makes him feel stupid for his questions and reads his assigned books to him even though the Alpha is behind on his own school work and let's him build a nest in his bed.

Tells him that he appreciates Eddie trying to make money for their future family, loves that even, but what use does he have for fancy jewlery or a full bouquet of roses? Like, he doesn't even like jewlery that much and he gets much better use of the brand new wool socks Eddie thrifted for him last month in an Indiana winter and the wild flowers he brought him for their first date are much easier to press than huge roses.

Just a series of misinformed adventures for looser Alpha Eddie that end in comical disaster and his Omega who is utterly charmed his his earnest attempts to be a good Alpha but who really just wants a loving mate and partner.

oh i love this😭😭😭 Eddie just wants to be the perfect mate and alpha for his omega, meanwhile Steve can’t figure out what’s going on with the love of his life who is already perfect to him!!!!

[roanofarcc]

THE OLD FASHIONED WAY

pairing. trevor lefkowtiz x alive!reader

summary. You had always regarded your ability to see ghosts as odd, until you met Sam and her eclectic group of ghosts.  

warnings. kind of/kind of not happy ending, ig? sad trevor :( angsty and a little flirty. reader gets stood up.

word count. 3.8K || masterlist

a/n. alive!reader HURTS but in the best way

trevor tag list. @marcos-scorpion , @youngdumbamericanteen

“I have one last, fun, interview question,” Sam said and you inwardly cringed. You had sat through so many job interviews that you knew a ‘fun’ question was normally anything but. Nevertheless, you smiled politely and nodded at her to continue asking. “What are your thoughts on ghosts?” 

You laughed, against your will. It was a reflexive response that you immediately regretted. “Sorry!” you rushed out. 

She didn’t seem put off by your laughing. “I know, it’s a ridiculous question. But the last guy that worked here…uh, this place may, potentially, be haunted. Not that I know, but there’s speculation. I just want to know how you feel about ghosts. Do you believe in them? Do you think it's all a bunch of mumbo-jumbo?” That was probably one of the oddest interview questions you’d ever been asked, but it was better than explaining how your weaknesses were really strengths. It also felt pointed. 

You didn’t know Sam and she didn’t know you, but the question made it sound like she knew your weird talent. And for some reason, you didn’t feel the embarrassment you normally did when someone brought up the concept of ghosts. There was something about Sam that compelled you to tell the truth, even against your better judgment. 

“Actually, that’s kind of a funny story-” you started, but were cut off.

“Samatha, when you are done, your assistance is needed in the television room. Someone believes it is his turn to watch another horrible film of space nonsense, but I distinctly recall it being my turn to watch those horrible women pick out whorish dresses for their weddings.” A woman appeared at the threshold of the entryway and the living room, dressed in a gown not from that century with her red locks pinned up in a curious updo. You were taken back, confused when your eyes fell on the man that stood beside her, dressed formally on top but lacking anything but socks and shoes on his bottom half. 

“First of all, Star Wars is not ‘space nonsense’ it's one of the biggest movies, like, ever,” the man started. “And second of all, you just got to watch your pick two days ago.” 

Sam cleared her throat, ignoring the two with a tight-lipped smile. You looked between the two, which seemed to confuse them. “I’m so sorry, will you excuse me for one second? I’ve got to take care of something really fast.” 

“Yeah, of course. Take your time. I don’t mess around when it comes to Star Wars either,” you said. 

The two people overlapped in with a ‘what?’ and an ‘excuse me?’ Sam stared at you wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape as she looked between the two figures behind her and you. “Hold on, can you see them?” 

It took a moment for you to understand why that was odd, which was too long if you were being honest. Obviously, no one was walking around in a gown like that or pantsless for no reason. You weren’t looking at cooky guests, but rather ghosts. Did nowhere not have any spirits lingering? It seemed like every job you worked or applied to had ghosts haunting the building. Though, you supposed out of all of the places, it did make the most sense for the old mansion to be haunted. 

But Sam wasn’t a ghost, but she seemed to be able to at least hear the ones in the threshold. “Can you see them?” you asked. 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” 

“Me too.” You have been able to see ghosts since you were little. As a child, most of your friends were the collection of ghosts that inhabited your childhood home. You thought you’d eventually outgrown it, but you never did. Now, nearly everywhere you ventured, you encountered dead people. It was interesting, a little obnoxious at times, and often made you feel like a freak of nature. But the woman in front of you could see them too; that was a first. 

Sam sat speechless for a moment before she said, “You’re hired.” 

--

You weren’t sure what to expect, working in the haunted mansion. In your lifetime, you’d encountered just about every kind of ghost, so you prepared yourself for anything when Sam introduced you. The Woodstone ghosts were an eclectic bunch, comprised of ghosts spanning nearly every decade. They were interesting, to say the least. But even if they had ended up being terrible, you were just happy to be around someone who shared your ability to see them. 

Sam and Jay had set you up at the front desk, putting you in charge of checking in guests. And when it was slow, the Woodstone ghosts often found their way to you if Sam was busy. 

One ghost in particular liked to hang around you, Trevor. He was the definition of an overgrown frat brother, with a lazy smirk and incessant flirtatious attitude. Every time he sauntered up to the front desk, calling your name, you made a habit of rolling your eyes. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, tone flat as you clicked away on the computer. 

Trevor leaned against the desk, his gaze burning into the side of your face. “How you doin’?” he said, and you sighed. 

“Watching Friends again, I see?” 

He blew air from his cheeks, deflating just slightly. “I’m a little rusty, okay?” 

“Rusty? At what?” 

“This,” he pointed between you and him. “Flirting.” 

You laughed and shook your head. “Is that what’s happening?” 

“Well, yeah. My flirting with Sam is useless because she and Jay are annoyingly sweet together. But you…” Trevor trailed on, a smirk on his lips and a certain cocky attitude wrapped up in his voice. 

“I hate to burst your bubble, no-pants, but we’re not exactly… compatible.” 

He raised his brows. “Because I’m dead?” You winced slightly. You didn’t want to be the one to say it; some ghosts were really sensitive to that, but Trevor didn’t seem too bothered. He shrugged like he saw it as no big deal. “I see that as a minor roadblock.” 

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes once more and shut him down, you were impressed at his relentlessness. 

-- 

You thought after a couple of weeks of working at Woodstone, Trevor’s ploy to win you over would fade alongside his attention. But he started to hang around you even more than when you first started, and you two had created a weird but kind of nice rapport of his continued flirting, peppered with more authentic conversations sprinkled in. He told you stories of his college days and the assholes he befriended before they ended up killing him in that every house. You told him about your own school days and how you were currently floating through the motions of young adulthood, trying to figure things out. 

“Scoring a job here was nice,” you said, comfortably resting your elbows on the front desk as Trevor stood across from you, listening intently. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam and Jay are pretty cool.” He paused, toying with the end of his tie. “So, you think you’ll stick around?” 

A small smile fell across your lips. “I think so. Things are pretty interesting around here.” 

“Well, if you ever want them to be more interesting, let me know.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked, raising your brows. 

“Oh yeah. I could rile up the basement ghosts, convince Thor minivans are enemy warships, you name it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “You are something else.” 

“Careful,” he teased. “That almost sounded like a compliment.” 

“It was supposed to,” you replied, not missing a beat. 

Trevor’s eyes widened just slightly, the smirk wiped right off his face and was replaced by something that resembled confusion with a slight fluster. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Oh.” You didn’t know ghosts could blush until that moment, even with their lack of blood, because Trevor’s cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as he made up some excuse to leave, mumbling something about helping Sass before he hurried away. 

You chuckled, resuming your work as another guest popped in. 

--

To say your dating life was pathetic would be a polite understatement. It was almost nonexistent, which is why when an attractive-looking person popped up on the dating app you forced yourself to get, you got your hopes up a little too high. Sam had encouraged you to go out on a date with them, excitingly helping you get ready and everything. 

You had been excited, believing it was a fresh start for you. First a new job and then a new romantic interest. Unfortunately, after waiting at the restaurant, alone, for a solid hour, you realized your dating life had quickly circled back around to being pathetic. Embarrassment didn’t quite cover how you felt as you left the restaurant and headed back home to wallow. 

The following day at work, the second you stepped inside the mansion, Sam was there with an excited energy, ready to hear all about your date. She grabbed your hand and dragged you into the kitchen before you could protest. She had made tea and had left off sweets Jay had made for the guests yesterday. The other ghosts lounged around the kitchen too, and you felt even more embarrassed to talk about your total bust of a date around all of them. 

But you slouched down in the one empty seat and let Sam push a mug of tea in front of you. 

“Tell me everything!” she insisted. 

You smiled politely but it didn’t stay on your face long before it morphed into a frown. “There’s not much to tell,” you sighed. “They stood me up.” 

“Wait, seriously?” Trevor said, seated beside you, brows furrowed. 

“No call, no apology, nothing. I sat there for an hour, like an idiot.” You rubbed your forehead, a scratchy feeling in your throat. There was no way you were going to cry in front of your boss and the ghosts. You tried to swallow down your emotions as you stared at the steam curling up from your tea. 

Sam’s frown deepened. “I’m so sorry.” 

“That is why you should meet suitors the old-fashioned way; not on the web,” Hetty said. 

“People meet online all of the time,” Sam said. “Bad dates happen, but you’ll find someone.” 

“At this rate, I’ll die alone,” you muttered before realizing your audience. “Sorry.” 

“Dying alone not so bad,” Thor said, in his own odd way to cheer you up. “Die here!”

“Thor,” Sam sighed but you laughed lightly. “I’d prefer no one else to die in the house.” 

The Viking shrugged. “Just suggestion.” 

You picked at your fingernails, the same pit that’s been in your stomach since your ruined dinner last night turned. 

Someone called from the entryway, the newest guest at the mansion. You moved to stand, but Sam waved you off. “I got it. You stay here, finish your tea.” You started to object, but she left before you could. With a huff, you sank back down in the chair. 

“You’re young, you got plenty of time. If I learned anything from being alive, dating in your twenties is usually a, what’s that phrase Jay uses?” 

Flower piped up, “A shit-show!” 

Alberta nodded. “Yeah, a shit-show. Brush it off and get back out there, while you’re still young and hot.” 

You smiled. “I’ll try. But you might be right, Hetty.” Maybe dating apps weren’t the way you were going to find someone. Old-fashioned dating sounded a little bit like a nightmare, but you figured it’d pay off more than mindless swiping through apps until another asshole stands you up. 

“I normally am,” Hetty said. 

The ghosts dispersed, going about their day-to-day while you lingered in the kitchen. Trevor stayed with you, quietly drumming his fingers against his bare knees. “At least you didn’t get catfished by a dead dude.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I did that once,” he said. “Catfished Jay’s sister, actually. I didn’t know she was Jay’s sister at first, obviously. But, uh, yeah. It was a whole mess. I tried to possess her friend’s body, but he ended up almost dying, so it was a total bust. Then Sam started putting the iPad in the drawer.” 

You laughed, that pit in your stomach easing just a little. “That’s insane,” you said. “A ghost on a dating app. For all know that’s why my date stood me up.” That sounded a little better than them just not being interested in meeting up with you in person. “But I doubt it.” 

Trevor shrugged. “It’s possible.” 

“I think it might just be me. I’ve never been great at the whole ‘dating’ thing.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Trevor said. “Looking like that, I’m surprised you don’t have every weekend booked.” 

You shook your head, a little flattered and a little exasperated. “Definitely not. But by the sounds of it, you did.” 

He smirked, throwing his hands up in a ‘what can I say’ gesture. “I got around, if that’s what you’re implying.”

It was odd, being around ghosts. To you, it never felt super different than hanging around livings. Besides the ability to touch them, the ghosts were every bit as real as Sam and Jay. You had started to forget that the Woodstone ghosts were just that, until they did something that knocked you back to reality. Trevor, being the most recent death, made it even harder to tell the difference. You could almost convince yourself he was living. 

“Did you ever have a serious relationship before you died?” you asked, curious. 

Trevor thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Nah. I was having too much fun being a bachelor and screwing around with my buddies to care about anything serious.” He paused, his smug attitude slipping away a little. “I didn’t know I was gonna end up dying before I could, though. I guess I would have liked to.” 

“You guess?” 

He looked a little zoned out, staring at something across the kitchen with his brows slightly knitted together. “I don’t know, I didn’t think much about it until I died.” 

Sympathy fell hard against your shoulders, and you itched to reach out to Trevor and offer some kind of comfort but you couldn’t. Instead, you said, “I’m sorry.” 

He tried to brush it off, regaining his normal composure but it didn’t shine in his eyes like it usually did. “It’s whatever. I don’t ever have to worry about going on a first date again, which is nice; those were always awful. And getting your heart broken probably sucks, so at least I’ll miss out on that.” 

“You never had your heart broken?” you asked, impressed. Even though you’ve never had a super-serious relationship, you had a tendency to fall for your crushes hard, which usually resulted in a broken heart. 

“Nope.” 

“That’s pretty lucky,” you said. If you could go the rest of your life without a broken heart, you thought that’d be nice. 

--

“It’s an interesting choice for a bachelor party, don’t you think?” Alberta said, but you had to ignore her because of the group of men you were checking in. You did agree though. The B&B was perfect for weddings and romantic weekend getaways. It was the kind of place you brought a family or your parents, not a bachelor party. But the men didn’t look like the kind to get too rowdy. The groom, in your small talk, had said they were just looking for a quiet weekend to unwind before the wedding chaos. They wanted to play video games and board games, drink whiskey, and catch whatever game was on TV. It was rather sweet, you thought. 

“You’re all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” The groom said no before thanking you and leading his small group of friends up the stairs. They weren’t up there for long though. After they carried in their bags and settled in, the group was back in the entryway, waiting for a car to take them into town, where they planned to bar-hop for the evening. 

One of the groomsmen found himself at the front counter, handsome and smiley as he met your gaze. 

“Do you have any bar recommendations? So far, our ‘bar-crawl’ only consists of two bars,” the groomsman asked. 

You hummed in thought before replying, “The Black Dog is nice. It’s right on Main Street, if you’re heading downtown.” 

“Do you hang out there often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“So it has pretty company then, huh?” Your eyes widened and a flustered laugh fell from your lips.

From a couple of feet away, some of the ghosts had gathered to observe the new guests. A loud scoff sounded from Trevor before he said, “Seriously?” 

You ignored him in favor of not looking crazy in front of the guests. “Oh, uh, no-” 

“Oh, come on,” the groomsman said. “I’d say you’re pretty, really pretty, actually.” 

Your face felt hot, and you tried to focus on the man in front of you, but the ghosts refused to stop talking. 

“Get a load of this guy,” Trevor huffed. 

“He’s got game, I’ll give him that,” Alberta said, to which Trevor scoffed once more. “What? Look at him.” 

“Thank you,” you said. 

The groomsman tilted his head to the side, pausing for a beat before he said, “Would it be too much to ask when you get off work?” 

“A little.” 

He held his hands up and chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

“This can’t seriously be working on you?” Trevor said. “Look at this guy! He’s got khakis and a polo on!” 

“At least he is wearing pants,” said Hetty. 

“Unbelievable.” Trevor got closer to the counter, much to your disdain. It was hard enough trying to look sane in front of the guests when the ghosts were talking to each other, let alone you. “You’re clearly out of his league-”

“Enough!” you said, raising your voice regrettably so. 

The groomsman looked at you oddly. “Whoa, sorry I-” 

“No!” you quickly cut him off. “Not you! I was, um, I-” 

“Dude, let’s go! The car’s here!” the groom shouted from the front door, beckoning the groomsman over. 

He shot you one last smile, dipping his head in goodbye as he followed his friends out of the mansion. The door closed loudly behind them before the house was drenched in cold silence. The ghosts all stood quietly as you glared. “How many times have you asked you guys not to talk to me when I’m helping guests?” 

“I don’t know if that counted as helping-” Sass started but shut his mouth when you shifted your glare onto him. 

You mumbled under your breath before you left the front counter and bee-lined for the kitchen. Sam and Jay were out for the evening, leaving the mansion in your hands. 

You only got a singular second to yourself before Trevor appeared in the room with you. Rubbing your fingers against your forehead, you asked him. “What was that?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment before he shrugged and said, “He was flirting with you, clearly, and was out of your league like I said.” 

You stared at him, the way he fiddled with his tie and avoided your eyes. Then it hit you. “Are you jealous?” 

He blinked. “W-What? No…” By the way, his voice trailed off, you felt a terrible knot tangle in your stomach. 

“Trevor…” 

“Don’t,” he quickly said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t…I don’t need that,” he gestured to the very clear glaze of pity in your eyes, but you couldn’t help it. You felt bad, really, terribly bad. 

A heavy breath slipped from your lips as you walked toward him, placing yourself right in front of him. His lips tugged downward in a still sadness that made your heart ache. “I’m really sorry.” 

Trevor sighed, “Don’t be. It’s…ugh.” He pressed his hands against his eyes, laughing bitterly at himself. “I’m dead,” he said. “You’re not.” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, unsure of what else to say. Maybe if you had met him in a different life, one where you both were either alive or dead, you’d take his flirting more to heart. But that wasn’t your current situation. You existed in different realms, untouchable but on each other’s paths. You’d never described your ability as cruel until that moment. 

“And I’m an idiot,” he added. 

“No, you’re not. If things were different…” Even saying the words aloud, they felt bitter on your tongue, doing more harm than good. You could tell by the wince that twitched in Trevor’s face. 

He smiled sadly, recovering from just the implication of your unfinished sentence. “But they’re not.” He let out a breathy sigh before he nodded his head toward the kitchen door. “I’m gonna go,” he said, slipping away before you could say anything else. 

-- 

The next couple of days passed uncomfortably inside the mansion. Trevor barely showed his face, and you felt worse and worse by the hour. Hetty and Issac kept you company at the front desk, making light conversation between their reassurance that Trevor would be okay. But your guilt weighed on you. You didn’t know how to make it better; you feared you wouldn’t be able to. 

But things came to a turn on the last day the bachelor party was there. The handsome groomsman had left his number on a slip of paper that you crumbled and shoved in your pocket, heavy on your side. You watched as they pulled out of the driveway and when you were alone, you unrolled the paper with his number, staring at it so intently you missed a presence appear beside you. 

“You should call him.” Trevor’s voice started you. You yelped and clutched your heart, which brought a small smile to his lips. 

“What?”

He sighed, shifting in his shoes and looking a little unsure of himself. “That’s his number, right?” You nodded. “You should call him.” 

“Oh, no-” 

Trevor cut you off. “Why not?” Because you felt bad, but you didn’t need to say that for Trevor to understand. “Don’t not call him because of me. Seriously, I…I lied when I said I’ve never had my heart broken.” 

You peered at him, confused. “Why?” 

“Because it sounded a little pathetic to say I crush hard. I liked my recess teacher so much that I cried like a baby when I had to move to fourth grade. In high school, my girlfriend of two weeks broke up with me because she was moving schools and I faked sick for three days because I was so, embarrassingly heartbroken. It’s just how I am,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “But I’ll get over it. It’s like not it would have worked out with me being dead and all. It was stupid.” 

“It wasn’t stupid,” you said. “And you’re not pathetic. It’s sweet, actually. Really sweet.” 

Trevor shrugged. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” He pointed a finger at the paper in your hands. “Call him, okay? You deserve a good date, the old-fashioned way.” 

And so you did, the old-fashioned way.

[theemporium]

https://www.tumblr.com/theemporium/732996365739819008/httpspbstwimgcommediaf-cfpsex0aa8a5hformat

PLEASEEE can we have the smallest of blurbs/thots on this, them cuddling into the reader because they’re wee pups after all

-🥀

I KNEW I HAD TO AS WELL

.

You were aware that the forecast said it would rain, but you didn’t realise it would be a full fucking thunderstorm.

You had been huddled in the Red Bull garage when the weather took a dramatic turn for the worse. First, there were just a few radios here and there about some rain hitting the track. Seconds later, a massive dark cloud was covering the track, the sun was gone and the conditions were far too dangerous to finish the end of qualifying. 

You were honestly just happy both your boys were safe as they made their way into the pits, even prouder when you realised this meant they would be starting on the front row together. But then the thunder started and a part of you froze. 

Thunderstorms were never a problem for you. If anything, you enjoyed them. The rain pattering against the window, the distant sound of thunder claps in the air with strikes of lightning as you played some calming music. Being cuddled up in bed, maybe even a book in hand with a warm drink by your side.

But your boys never thought the same. 

You had began moving before you could even process it, but the team wouldn’t let you leave the safety of the garages just yet, which left you watching the interview on one of the screens. You could see it on their faces, even if they tried to hide it. You could see them trying to laugh it off and continue with the questions. You could see the way their bodies flinched, the way they covered their ears, the way they gravitated towards each other for safety. It broke your heart to see because you knew exactly how they were during thunderstorms.

The second they were given the go ahead, the boys were heading straight back to their drivers’ rooms to leave for the hotel as soon as they could. But it was short-lived when both boys barreled into Max’s driver room, Charles rushing towards you before you could even blink. 

A low whine left him as he wound his arms around your waist, tugging you close and burying his face into the crook of your neck as another distant thunderclap echoed outside. 

“I know,” you murmured, holding onto him tightly as your eyes caught Max’s—who you knew was trying to put on a brave face. “Let’s head back to the hotel, okay? Everything is gonna be fine.” 

Both boys were twitchy the whole ride over. All three of you were sitting in the back of the car, with you pressed between both boys as they tried to distract themselves. You could feel the anxiety rolling off them, you could feel the way their bodies tensed and the way their hands tightened on your thighs. You knew they just wanted to be alone and far away from the thunder. 

The second the hotel room door locking sounded through the suite, you heard the distinct sound of clothes ripping before two massive, fluffy beasts were approaching you. Another clap of thunder rendered through the air and both boys let out pitiful whines, cowering slightly as they looked up at you with big eyes.

“My poor boys,” you cooed softly as you reached out to run your hands over the heads, scratching behind their ears until both wolves were nosing at your legs. “C’mon, we’ll do what we do when we’re home.”

And it was a little more squished than the bed you shared at home, but it did the job just fine. You had both wolves squashing you between them, their heads resting on your stomach with the duvet over them. It was a trick you read online with dogs and fireworks, but it seemed to work perfectly with your werewolf boyfriends.

“You both need to eat something soon,” you told them when you felt one of them—probably Charles, if you knew your boys well—pushing the fabric of your shirt up until he could rest his head on your bare stomach. “And I would rather not scare hotel staff with two massive dogs that are technically undisclosed.”

Max let out a huff against your thigh.

“Don’t be a puppy,” you snorted as your fingers threaded through his fur. “Just one meal and then you can transform back. I would like at least thirty minutes with my boys to tell you how proud I am of both of you for getting the front row.”

Charles let out a loving purr as he nuzzled himself further into you.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

.

[marlynnofmany]

Stranger in Need

Inspired by this post from @banrionceallach, which wonders about healthcare and the human vs alien approaches to certain things in the spacefuture. Here's one answer to one facet of that question.

~~~

The space station was a noisy one, or maybe it was just the food court. Hard to have eating areas for a dozen species without a certain level of background sound. I was ready to move on, though. I waved to a few crewmates who were still hanging around the tables, then picked a route toward the entertainment stores. While the large concourses might have been faster, and the floating walkways cooler (they went through holes in the wall!), the small hallway with nature murals looked peaceful.

I admired the paintings of otherworldly hills, all orange and purple, with a glittery starscape on the ceiling. The hubbub faded behind me while the hallway curved ahead. Unfortunately, that sound was replaced by a new one: someone coughing violently.

I edged to the side so I could peek around the corner while keeping my distance in case there was contagion about. That was a lot of throat clearing between the coughs.

When the sitting area came into view, with its potted alien plants and multiple benches, I stopped worrying about my own safety. A fellow human was leaning against one of the benches, coughing with everything he had. His clothes were nice, like he was on his way to a job interview, and they were covered in sweat, like he’d been running to get there on time. A bag of belongings had spilled at his feet. The broken shards of plastic with a metal bit at the center had once been an inhaler.

There were also two tall aliens standing nearby, the long-necked type that I hardly ever saw, with short beaky faces and skin textured like a turkey neck. They were facing each other and ignoring the human who was struggling to breathe.

I ignored them right back and hurried over to the guy. “Hey, do you need help?”

He grimaced, but nodded. An attempt at explaining turned into more coughs. He pointed at the inhaler and pantomimed a heavy footstep.

I thought back to the size of certain people at the food court. They could easily have stepped hard enough to crack the casing and not noticed. “I don’t suppose you have a spare in here?” I asked, gesturing toward the bag.

When he shook his head, it was my turn to grimace. I wondered if he was fresh from Earth, where human-specific medicine was available at every corner medcenter. The inhaler could be hard to replace out here. At least we weren’t out on the edge of nowhere; the medcenters here should be familiar with human biology.

I told him, “We need to get you to a medcenter.” Then I paused. “Do you know where it is?”

He did not. Dang. I looked over at the two turkey-neck aliens who were having a staring contest or something. “Hey, do you guys know the way to the medical center?”

The closest one turned his head to face me without moving the rest of his body. “Do you mind? We’re in the middle of something here.”

“This person could die!” I snapped.

With a shrug in his voice, he said, “It’s your child, not ours.”

“He’s not my child!” I exclaimed. “He might even be older than me.”

“Then why do you care?”

I stared at the pair of them for a long second: their vaguely irritated expressions and the way they hadn’t moved an inch to help. I made an exasperated noise and gave them up as a lost cause. The guy was still coughing, trying to force air in and out of airways that were swelling shut.

“Lemme see if I can find a map on the public feed,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Oh hey, don’t bother; I’ll get it.” He’d bent to scoop up the fallen belongings, and almost passed out headfirst. With the phone in one hand, I ushered him onto a bench then nudged the pile together with a foot while I searched madly on my phone. “Argh, why don’t they have it up front? This is terribly designed. Are you gonna be able to walk?”

He nodded, but he was starting to list to the side with a glazed expression. I considered trying to carry him, and didn’t like my odds. Had there been other humans nearby in the food court? Somebody likely to help?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and turned to sprint down the hall. I’d only made it a few steps before a welcome sight rounded the corner: not humans, but two of my biggest crewmates.

“What’s happening?” Blip asked, a vision of muscles and flowing silks that blended with her natural frills.

Beside her, Blop turned a fish-faced frown on the ailing human. “That doesn’t sound good.” His silks were even frillier than his sister’s, and the pair of them filled the hallway. Just what I needed.

“He can’t breathe,” I told them. “The tool for his medicine broke. Do you know where the medcenter is?”

“I’ll carry him,” they both said, Blip slightly faster.

“I’ve got the bag,” Blop added, diving to gather it up with a dismissive flap of his frills at the two turkey-necks. “Of course they’re no help.”

“Why would we?” asked the farther one, sounding honestly curious.

Blip announced, “Lift and be lifted,” then did exactly that. The adult human looked small in her arms.

Blop bounced to his feet with the bag zipped shut. “I’ll clear the way!”

The pair dashed off down the hallway with me running after. The turkey-necks didn’t move, though one of them muttered something about herd creatures.

As I ran, I thought, I’ve never seen more than one of those long-necked guys at a time before. Guess they’re a solitary species. They’re missing out.

We burst out of the hallway into a crowd that parted like a spaceship fleet in the path of a wild asteroid. Blop yelled for directions, and people of many species pointed the way.

I followed along, glad not to be the weird one for once.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[deitripper]

I was one of the Chilean winners to meet Paul McCartney and go to his soundcheck. My experience.

Well fellas, it's been a long time since i posted here and what can i say, i just wanted to give u the good news! As u read it, i had the chance (next to other people, 9 great fellow fans) to hug paul and share few minutes with him (As i write this all what i experienced feels unreal) I'm the one wearing the sgt pepper's suit btw!

I don't remember too much about the whole day, but the soundcheck was AMAZING, he played temporary secretary, mrs Vanderbilt, Let em in and Coming up!!it was CRAZY. Bf the soundcheck was over we were taken to another place in the stadium where we waited few minutes, and we talked with Stuart Bell (((((i joked a bit with him about he having the dream job and the possibility of k1ll1ng someone to be part of Paul's team and he told me 'HOW!? IT WAS A SECRET I TOLD U! ))))😂 Stuart is Paul's tour manager and we met his photographer and cameraman.

To be brief, let's jump right into meeting Paul, where do i start??? HE'S THE MOST ADORABLE MAN EVER, as soon as i saw him my eyes turned into waterfalls, my heart skipped a beat and all the memories of me binge watching videos and interviews of The Beatles crashed in my head. He greeted all the other winners and i didn't notice i was almost the last one, i was so shocked, too paralyzed to even say something, other winners told me Paul said something like 'Oh darling come on' and i just went slowly as i could to be near him and get a hug. I swear won't forget that moment. I HUGGED A BEATLE LIKE WHAAAAAATTT THE ACTUALLL HECKKK!!!! He share few words with everyone while the cameraman recorded everything. I feel that we were with him like 5 minutes but they -believe when i tell you- FELT LIKE 2 SECONDS. Then we took an official photo with Paul (which i'm kinda sad to receive bc i know my sgt peppers suit was totally hide behind two other girls who won, but hey, i'm in the same pic with Paul and that's enough!!) and lastly i had the chance to show him a bit of my work, i ordered some badges and stickers with my Beatle illustrations that i put on my suit and explained him stuff that i can't remember right now :'( But this is what finally made me lost my mind (internally bc for everyone is was just crying) LISTEN LISTEN, HE SAID MY WORK WAS """IMPRESSIVE""" AND HE TOUCHED THE STICKER WITH THE JOHN LENNON PORTRAIT I HAD ON THE SUIT, HE- TOUCHED- ONE- OF- MY- PORTRAITS AND HE RECOGNIZED THAT IT WAS JOHN READING SPANIARD IN THE WORKS. FFS, as i write this i start to sob. Then in a rush we sang the spanish version of 'Besame Mucho" a.k.a Cha Cha Boom song 😂 and then we all said goodbye as we could, waving, screaming, and in my case, crying hard af.

I really really hope to have a chance too see him in concert again, i know that the chance to be THAT near to him again, a literally walking legend, is almost impossible (as impossible as it feel the first time) i know i'm a lucky girl, and my life changed just having the chance to be in the same room with him. I won't be over this, there's now way this feels less exciting over the years. I was one of the few people that had the opportunity to be to his side -even if it was for a minute- and nothing is going to change that.

I have big dreams ahead, and i hope i'm able to accomplish every one of them. After hugging Paul everything feels possible.

If you like my art, know that i feel more inspired than ever before and i hope u can follow me on this journey🩷

Love, Dei.🩷

Ps, all the winners and i are expecting the video of everything, so as soon i as get it i'll try to share all the bits where i'm interacting with Paul (i hope with my soul that our hug is recorded and that his team doesn't cut that while editing the clips)

[vlrghoes]

What Once Was | Chapter One

author’s note: I edited and proof read this after coming back from the club so if you see something wrong don’t be afraid to point it out as I’m quite friendly anyway!

I still don’t know if I like this chapter but overall I’m just shy about sharing my work because I’m hyper judgmental of my own work but I still wanted to share this with you guys anyway.

The chapters after this will be set a few years after this (which will be clarified in the chapters)

I’m English so if anything is wrong in terms of America and the health practices please forgive me!

I’m literally yapping now but I do want to say that I can’t promise chapter two will come in under 2 weeks as I’ve just finished my law degree and landed my dream job (not related to my degree) and I start training next Sunday and it’s for 5 weeks, really intense and with exams almost every day and if I mess up I lose my job. (Not sure if it’s obvious what my job is but anyways.) Also it’s my birthday on Wednesday and I’m celebrating Thursday so less time to write!

cw/tw: death, pregnancy complications, heavy angst, references to mental health and body dysmorphia/body image issues

word count: 4370 (I never usually write more than 2k so this is weird for me)

tag list (ask to be added): @trippinsorrows @cyberdejos2 @maeb99 @southerngirl41 @callmekayd @trentybenty @tian-monique @rose-bliss (if your name isn’t in grey, it’s not letting me tag you but I’ll try in the comment section)

masterlist

“You’re choosing that stupid title over your family again.” Ayanna’s voice cracked, the finality of her words hanging in the air as Joe stood frozen, his guilt palpable and his resolve wavering. She had spent all day running around the house and decorating for their special day. She spent hours preparing a nice steak dinner for the two of them, however it had been left untouched, the wait quelling her appetite as she now only felt sick. The dress she picked out now felt too revealing, no longer complimenting her body. Suddenly it clung to all the wrong parts and accentuated her weight gain, making her feel like a whale instead. The candles in the house had melted to the point where the fire had flickered out and the playlist she had queued just sounded like white noise at this point. Nothing matters anymore because Joe is late, late home once again and Ayanna is reaching breaking point. She spent hours waiting for him after she prepared their dinner, but all the effort didn’t matter anymore because instead of romance, the air was filled with tension and dread. “You know they’re due any day now, Joe how could you do this to me, to us. How can you still be wrestling so soon to my due date?” She said, her voice filled with emotion as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to cry, she had cried so much this entire pregnancy and she felt miserable. Instead of having that pregnancy glow like Rihanna, she had the life sucked out of her and she just felt lifeless.

“Look baby, I'm sorry.” Joe began, trying to figure out mentally how to get himself out of the trouble he was in. It wasn’t his fault, the media day for Wrestlemania was meant to finish much earlier but they took longer to set up, in turn making Joe’s interview (which was last) late. He had intended to be home earlier but it just seemed like the universe had other plans.

“Don’t even bother” Ayanna sighed, playing with the ring on her finger which now felt like it weighed a tonne. When they first got together, he gave it to her as a promise he’d marry her and whilst he did deliver on that promise, since getting pregnant and no longer being able to join him on the road she wondered if it was worth it sometimes. It’s not that she didn’t love Joe, hell sometimes she thinks she loves him too much. However she now isn’t sure if he loved her more than that title. He used to be so romantic; he’d bring her flowers every single day no matter what, he’d take her on dates, even small ones that weren't as lavish and she loved it. But the more he climbed up the ranks of WWE, the less the romance was there. Then shortly after he became champion everything stopped. Their marriage hit the rocks as he was never home and he started to miss things such as birthdays and christmases, so to save their marriage Ayanna gave up everything and joined him on the road. It was all going great until her later stages of pregnancy which stopped her from travelling with him but the most important thing for Ayanna was that he never missed an anniversary.

Well that was until now.

“Do you even know what day it is?” Ayanna asked, her voice quiet as she watched his mind tick, the cogwheels visabilly spinning with his face scrunched up in confusion, dull eyes squinting until it all finally clicks and he looks at her horrified. “You know, as bad as you’ve been lately, I always used to say ‘at least he’d always remembered our anniversary’ but it seems I can’t even say that anymore.” She spits, her heart breaking as the words leave her mouth.

“Yana” he started, feeling dizzy as he watched her flinch, a look almost of disgust flashing within her eyes. The nickname didn’t bring the butterflies it used to bring anymore, instead it forced a swell of emotion that made her feel like she could spew her guts any second. She used to look at him in adoration, but as the years passed the glimmer in her eyes decreased daily until they were fully extinguished. “Baby things are going to change after wrestlemania, I promise. Just one more match, after this I promise I’ll ask Vince again for some time off, I’m sure he’ll give it to me this time.”

The both of them knew that he was telling her what he wanted her to hear, the same conversation being repeated so many times to the point where they felt like they were in limbo. The last time Joe had asked, Vince told him he couldn’t have time off as he was their top star and Joe simply didn’t ask again. He always seemed to lack a backbone in situations that require him having one, but is happy to have a backbone and be stubborn when he doesn't need to be. Ayanna was exhausted, carrying one baby is hard enough but of course Joe carried the twin gene so she was carrying two instead and it felt like they were draining the life from her body. “I just want you to be present Joe, I feel like a single mother despite being married.” She pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. No one ever mentioned how lonely pregnancy is. She had lost many friends as she couldn’t go out to the club or drink anymore which meant that she spent days on end staring at the four walls of her bedroom watching the time pass as she waited up for Joe to come home. She sighed, tears threatening to well in her eyes which made her mentally curse. Stupid baby hormones. “You made the same promise last time, I don’t think you understand that one day I may not be here. You’ve missed so much already and you will never get this time back.”

She waited for Joe to say something, anything that could save the situation and at some points she felt like he was. But he’d then swallow the words back with a bitter taste and instead just looked at her in defeat. Nothing could save Ayanna for the despair she felt and she felt stupid even having this conversation with him. Instead, she gives him one more look over, a silent plea to say something or do something but the window of time closes as soon as she opens and she ends up turning on her feet and going to bed. She kept her room door ajar, hoping he’d come and knock, give her the tight hugs he used to give her and shower her in kisses and apologies but it never happens.

Joseph himself didn’t know what to do. They had the fairytale romance all their friends envied when they were younger, he was the promising D1 football player and she was a shoe-in to be a future Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. They looked good together and spent years in their honeymoon phase, yet somehow as they grew older the fairytale had started to wear off. He looked around the room with a frown, his stomach twisting and his heart aching as he realised exactly how much effort she had put in for their anniversary dinner and in that moment he felt like a horrible person. He knew he needed to pack as he was leaving at 5AM to get a jet for Wrestlemania but a large part of him wanted to go and fix the situation. But he knew nothing could ever fix it. They promised each other that they’d never go to bed without resolving an argument but that promise got broken several times to the point of which it no longer had any weight. So instead, Joe went into the walk-in closet and packed his things, believing that there’s nothing he could do to fix the situation.

That night, for the first time in their marriage the couple slept in separate rooms. Joe in the guest room tossing and turning in his own guilt, whilst Ayanna tried her hardest to muffle her sobs in the pillow. Her tears soaked the case through and her heart shattered in the pieces.

The next morning, Ayanna woke with the worst headache. Her head was pounding so intensely it hurt to open her eyes, however she put it down to the fact she spent all night crying and didn’t sleep. She called out for Joe, hoping he’d be home still so they could make up after their argument and wish him luck tonight as no matter what she loved him and didn’t want to continue on with another argument. But as she made it to the guest room, she realised it was too late and he was already gone. Her heart splintered like fragile glass, and she wept until the well of her tears ran dry, leaving her hollow and desolate.

“Fix your face uce.” His cousin Joshua says with a nudge. Joe having a face like a slapped ass and a snappy attitude had become too common these days and the twins, Joe’s only confidants, knew exactly what was going on. They’d grown up with Joe and practically spent their whole lives with Ayanna through her association with Joe, meaning they had been privy to almost all of the couple’s relationship issues.

“He’s right, every day you walk around here with the face you used to have when my dad used to whoop us all for breaking the window with the football.” Jonathon adds on, a small chuckle escaping from his twin brother as the memory of that day flashes through him. The twins and Joseph had grown up together due to their parents living next door to one another. Rikishi, the twin’s father and Joe’s uncle would say the twins were a bad influence. However everyone who knew them knew that it was actually Joe, he always managed to get away from it all by snitching on the boys before they could save themselves. Which is what led to all of them getting chased with a broom stick as children after Joseph broke the window as they were all playing football, but instead of admitting it he blamed the twins whilst the twins blamed him so the punishment was collective.

“Are you fighting with Yana again?” Joshua asks, earning him a dirty look from both his twin brother and Joseph as the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. The two of them somehow manage to fight more than Joshua and his baby mother, and the pair of them were never even together, just a stupid one night stand.

The pair wait for Joseph to say something but it becomes more and more obvious that he has nothing to say, but the situation is clearly bothering him. Jonathan, the self-labelled “mature” one out of the twins, felt it was best to offer some advice, even if Joe didn’t ask. “Man, I don’t know what’s going on but I know you two have been together since you were both thirteen, whatever it is you’ll make it through it. You guys have always found a way.” The advice, albeit sweet, doesn't really make a difference for Joe. But thankfully he gets called for his press conference anyway so he doesn’t have to engage in the conversation further and he shifts from vulnerable ‘Joe’ to the formidable ‘Roman,’ like a Jekyll turning into Hyde, shedding his worries and fears to become the stoic, unyielding figure everyone dreads.

Joe never really cared for press conferences, however since he was the face of the company he was obligated to fulfil every duty in his contract. He was always used to giving the cookie cutter answers to the usual questions like “what are your expectations tonight?” and “how do you feel about your opponent?” However, he gets caught off guard when someone in the crowd asks "with the demands of your career, how do you balance your professional and personal life, especially with your wife expecting?" The question then places a pang of guilt in his stomach once more as he’s forced to remember their argument from last night. He really wanted to speak to her before he left but he didn’t want to wake her up and his flight was too early for him to stay. He took a thought and tried to compose an appropriate answer before taking a small breath.

“It’s a challenge, no doubt.” He began, slightly sounding defensive whilst making sure to try and make eye contact with the journalist in the crowd to make sure he appeared engaged in the topic. “But I’ve always believed that if you’re committed to something, you find a way to make it work. My family understands what this career means to me, and I make sure to be there for them as much as I can. After tonight, I’m looking forward to some quality time with them.” The words feeling hollow knowing his home life isn’t in a good place.

At home, Ayanna rubs her temples trying to quell the headache that has seemed to intensify from earlier on. She sits on the sofa, her head spinning from the pain when a sharp, twisting pain in her abdomen causes her to shift positions. “It can't be.” she mumbles, it was too early. The twins were not meant to be due yet, she had an entire plan for Joe’s mother to come down and stay in the guest room and help her for the last week of her pregnancy up until the babies hit six months, this can’t be happening. Her phone lay on the coffee table, just out of reach. She stared at it, debating whether to call Joseph or not. But he was probably in the middle of his press conference. She didn’t want to worry him—she could handle this.

She bided her time, until the pain suddenly intensified, radiating from her abdomen up to her chest. Ayanna’s breath hitched, panic creeping in as she realised something was seriously wrong. She forced herself to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her. The room spun, and she fell back onto the couch, gasping for air. She gave in and phoned Joe first, his phone going straight to voicemail as she thought before hanging up, her hands trembling as she dialled 911.“Please” she began with a gasp, struggling to even breathe, “I think something’s wrong I'm pregnant, and I—” Her voice broke off as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time as she screamed, the sound of her pained yells bouncing off the walls.

Joe, pleased with his answer to the first question, felt like he was in the clear and that would be it for the interview but then another question hit him. "There have been rumours that you were considering taking some time off after this match. Can you confirm or deny that?" The question made him feel hot under the collar, he didn’t want to give a definitive answer as Vince had already turned down his request and he didn’t want to put himself in a position that gets him in trouble. He hated it about himself and in a way he also hated Vince for putting him in this situation, however deep down he knew that he was at fault. No matter what, he was a coward and tried to avoid rocking the boat at work but all that has done is cause problems in his marriage.

He once again flashes that million dollar smile that he knew the ladies loved the most before positioning his answer. “Right now, I’m focused on tonight. Whatever comes after, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’ve heard the rumours, but my priority is to go out there, put on a hell of a show, and take care of business. The rest will fall into place." He was cool and composed, everything a champion should be, however, the answer in itself was very evasive. It was as though he had mastered the art of saying much while revealing nothing, leaving everyone guessing what truly lay beneath.

Ayanna’s vision blurred as she tried to focus on the operator’s voice. “Stay with me, ma’am, help is on the way,” the voice said, but Ayanna could barely hear it over the pounding in her head. She doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as the baby kicked wildly inside her. Her thoughts were a jumble of fear and regret. She should have told Joseph—should have insisted he stay home. But it was too late now. The darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer, and she knew she was running out of time

Joe looked at the crowd, wanting to go backstage and get ready for his match, a sigh of relief leaving his body as he’s told this is the last question of the conference. "Any plans to celebrate after the match, or will you be rushing home to be with your family?”

Joe smiled, the question feeling so bittersweet as he’d love to have Ayanna in the crowd like she usually is tonight, but that isn’t the case. "We’ll see how the night goes. My family’s always been my anchor, so I’ll be getting back to them as soon as I can. But first, I’ve got to take care of business in that ring."The reporters nodded, satisfied with his answer. Joseph glanced at the time—just a few more minutes, and he could get back to his routine. But he had no idea that his world was about to shatter.

Ayanna’s strength was fading fast. She clutched her phone, the operator’s voice a distant echo in her ears. “Hold on, ma’am, the paramedics are almost there,” but Ayanna’s world was already slipping away.

The last thing she felt was the sharp pain in her head, then—darkness.

The crowd was electric as Joe stepped into the ring, his face stoic as he played with his wrists to loosen them up. The glamour and feel of Wrestlemania never gets old, but he stayed focused, his mind locked in on the match and his eyes focused on his opponent. He couldn’t afford any distractions - not tonight.

The bell rang, and he moved with precision, every punch, every kick calculated. He could feel the weight of the championship on his shoulders, the expectations of the fans, the promise he had made to himself to be the best. Minutes felt like seconds as the match intensified, the crowd on their feet, chanting his name. With a final, devastating move, Joseph pinned his opponent to the mat. The referee’s hand slapped the canvas—one, two, three.

The crowd booed as Joseph was declared the winner, his arm raised in victory, gutted that their golden boy Cody Rhodes had lost the title. The championship belt was handed to him, and he held it high, basking in the glory of the moment. For a few seconds, everything was perfect. But beneath the cheers and jeers, he felt an uneasy feeling run through him, it was almost as if his body was trying to warn him that this victory came at a price—one that would haunt him long after the spotlight dimmed.

After the match he walked backstage, sweat dripping down his face but a victorious smile plastered on his lips. Fellow wrestlers patted him on the back, congratulating him on another win, another title defence. He had done it again—proven why he was the best. But it didn’t feel the same without Ayanna there to give him a kiss and tell him how proud she was of him. He longed to have her sweet floral scent dancing though his nose, he simply missed her and he was going to make it his mission to call her immediately and apologise and make it up to her. In fact, he was going to ask Vince again for time off or just go to Hunter and get him to explain to Vince.

As he headed toward his locker room, he saw Vince stood them with a solemn expression. His heart dropped, usually if Vince looks at you like that you’ve done a terrible job and you’re about to be pulled off TV. “Joe, we need to talk,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.”

Joseph frowned, still riding the high of his victory. “What’s up, Vince? I’ve got some celebrating to do and I need to call my wife.”

Vince hesitated, his face pale. “Joe, it’s Ayanna… She had a stroke during labour. She had tried to call you as she was going into labour but you were in the press conference.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. “What?” he whispered, his heart plummeting. “No… no, that can’t be right.” His mind scrambled to reject what he’d just heard, clinging to disbelief as though it could keep the truth at bay.

Vince’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he continued, “I haven’t heard anything else, however I would suggest that you take the jet and go to the hospital now. We will cover you in the post match press conference.” The championship belt slipped from Joseph’s grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The noise of the backstage area faded into nothingness as Joseph stood frozen, disbelief and horror washing over him.

Joseph’s heart pounds as he bursts through the hospital doors, the sounds of WrestleMania’s victory still ringing in his ears. But as he’s confronted by the white walls of the ICU, his triumph feels meaningless, distant. Joseph’s hands trembled as he pushed through the hospital doors, his mind a whirl of fear and denial. He moved as if in a trance, barely registering the people around him as he demanded to be taken to Ayanna.

“Where’s Ayanna? Where are my kids?” he demands, his voice edged with panic.

The receptionist’s eyes flickered with sorrow, looking around in desperation as she did not want to be the one to be here when the news was broken to him. Luckily for her, the doctor steps forward. “Mr. Anoa’i, I’m so sorry. Your wife suffered a massive stroke shortly after going into labour. By the time she got here, there was nothing we could do to reverse the damage. Her brain activity ceased before we could save her.”

Joseph’s breath catches, his world starting to crumble. “What… what do you mean? Where is she? Can I see her?” His voice wavered, a desperate plea for a reality that was slipping through his fingers.

The doctor hesitates, his tone measured but heavy. “We had to make a decision quickly, Mr. Anoa’i. We kept her on life support long enough to deliver the twins via emergency C-section. It was the only way to save their lives.”

For a moment, Joseph just stares, unable to comprehend the words. “You… you kept her alive just to deliver the babies?” His voice is raw with disbelief and rising fury. He couldn’t believe what was being said to him, Ayanna being reduced to a baby making machine made him feel beyond sick. They could’ve had another baby, but he could never have another Ayanna. “She wasn’t just some fucking incubator! She was my wife! She is my wife, why didn’t you save her?!”

The doctor’s eyes hold steady, though full of sympathy. “She made that decision herself. Your wife signed an advanced directive, instructing us to prioritise the babies if anything went wrong. She knew the risks and chose this course.”

The words hit Joseph like a sledgehammer. Ayanna had known this could happen and made a decision without him—a decision that had ripped her from his life. Anger surged and then ebbed away, leaving a hollow ache where it had been. He had spent his life with her, and now, learning to live without her seemed an insurmountable challenge, a cruel twist of fate.

“Where are they?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, eyes vacant.

One of the nurses gently guides him to the room where the newborns lie in their incubators. They’re tiny, fragile, and perfect. But as Joseph looks at them, he’s overwhelmed not with the joy he expected but with a deep, unsettling mix of sorrow and resentment. They’re here, alive and breathing, but Ayanna is gone. She sacrificed herself for them, and Joseph can’t help but feel a stab of resentment toward these tiny beings who cost him everything. He stands over the incubators, his hands shaking as he touches the glass. The twins stir slightly, their small cries echoing in the sterile room, but all Joseph feels is an unbearable, suffocating grief—and an anger he can’t reconcile. Whilst he was angry at the world, he was also mad at himself. What sick bastard resents an innocent child? He thought, trying to force the feeling out of his heart, but it was no use. He just couldn't stop himself being filled with disgust when he looked at them, especially as they both look exactly like her. It felt like some cruel punishment from the universe for his wrongdoing.

Finally, he forces himself to pick up one of the babies, holding the child close to his chest. The warmth of his newborn is supposed to bring him comfort, but instead, it feels like a weight pressing down on him, reminding him of what he’s lost. Tears blur his vision as he collapses into a nearby chair, the sound of the twins’ cries filling his ears. But instead of the joy and love he once imagined, all Joseph can feel is a hollow emptiness and a dark, creeping resentment that only deepens his guilt. The nurse gently touched his shoulder, but Joseph barely noticed. He sank into a chair, the twins still wailing in his arms, as tears streamed down his face. The world had stopped making sense. He had won the match, but in doing so, had lost everything that truly mattered, as if triumph had come at the cost of his very soul.

[csuitebitches]

How do you ACTUALLY network? Like the idea of a coffee chat always baffled me. Like a stranger would agree to get coffee with me for me to essentially interview and then what? I guess my bigger question is how do I provide value to them besides buying them coffee? And the whole concept just feels cringe and transactional

I’ll give you two recent examples, one of work and one of a social event.

A friend invited me to a party. I don’t know said friend very well, but we’re on good terms. I said yes cause why not.

I met a girl there who happened to do some very interesting things and had similar interests to me. How did I find that out? I asked her about herself, I found out where she was previously residing, I learned what she did for a living, and I began associating it to the things that I do. She’s from the same city that I want to move to, she now lives 20 minutes from me, and she’s interested in spirituality. My work happened to organise a similar event a week later, which I immediately invited her for. I asked her for her number so that I could send her the invite.

What she immediately liked about me and expressed, was that I don’t use social media, when we agreed to exchange contact info. I explained to her that I’d have to connect her on iMessage/ WhatsApp and not instagram. That allows us to stay in touch much better than on social media.

I left the party earlier than everyone but I looked for her and told her that we should catch up next weekend or whenever she was free. She agreed.

So this is what you learn from example 1:

1. Learn to associate.

When someone tells you that they work in XYZ company, in B city, start by connecting things in your head. Who else do you know works in the same field, could they know each other? What do you know about the work that they do, and if you don’t know much, can you find out more? Most people, including myself, love to talk about what we do at work and what our job entails. Has their work allowed them to travel a lot? If yes, where?

In order to associate, you need to read a lot and learn a lot. You have to understand what’s happening in the world, what the latest news is, because how the hell are you going to continue that conversation?

2. You have to snowball the conversation. The goal is to try and understand WHO this person is. If someone asks you, have you met CSB and you have, you should be able to say yes, this is what she’s interested in, this is what she works in - you should be able to pitch CSB to another person.

Not every single conversation has to be valuable. You also have to decide whether the person in front of you is worth your time.

3. Exchange numbers, not social media. Nothing is going to come out of exchanging instagram or LinkedIn.

4. When you’re leaving the event, look for the person you met and tell them that you’re leaving and that you guys should catch up sometime. If you haven’t exchanged contact info yet, that’s the best way to do it. “Oh let’s catch up again soon! Can I have your number? We can grab a coffee or drink whenever.”

—-

Example 2. I’d gone to a conference a few months ago. I met a young guy, around my age, who works in an accelerator. I’m very interested in the start up world, and he’s working in one of the best ones in the world, at a decent position. He immediately began telling me about recent funding that they did, what sort of start ups they’re looking for, etc. I asked him for more information, which he was super happy to talk to me about.

We’re on very good terms but we live in different cities. I often send him reports because I work in media, and he sends me PDFs and pitch decks. Whenever we’re in each other’s town, we message each other. Otherwise, I make it a point to reach out to him once a month, just casually, to find out what’s happening.

Takeaways from example 2:

5. Scratch each other’s backs. You can’t just get value from the other person, provide them with the same. It doesn’t have to be work related. Let’s say the person you’ve connected with is interested in indie music and you learn that an indie band is playing somewhere - send them a link to the event and tell them that you remembered that they like this genre, and you just wanted to share the info.

6. What’s important to learn is maintaining relationships. I reach out to all my mentors, all my latest connections once a month. That doesn’t mean that I’m necessarily going to meet them face to face, but I just check in and ask how things are going.

So.

Approach. Associate. Snowball. Exchange info. Maintain.

[sanjoongie]

ℓε ℓเѵ૨ε εƭ ℓε ρℓαเรเ૨

📖Second submission for the Dragon Collab hosted by @flurrys-creativity.

📖Pairing: Knowledge Dragon! Lee Heeseung x Organizer! Reader (f)

📖Genre: smut

📖Trope: employer/employee, idiots to lovers

📖Au: modern au, dragon au, hybrid au

📖Rating: 18+, MDNI

📖Word Count: 2,904

📖Warnings: penetrative sex with no barrier, kama sutra references, slow-paced sex, breast play, begging, usage of tail during sex, horn tugging (it's a dragon kink okay)

📖Summary: when a dragon hires you to organize his horde of information, you find that he wants to add you to his treasure

1- La Gemme at l'extase with Hyunjin {fantasy dragon} | 2- Le Livre et le plaisir with Heeseung {modern dragon} | 3- ??? with San {sci-fi dragon}

Never in a million years did you think your love for organization would get you a job working for a dragon hybrid.

Lee Heeseung, a hoarder of knowledge, was your employer. After a very enjoyable interview, in which you were under the impression the dragon hybrid was flirting with you, you were hired on the spot. 

The owner of the sprawling renovated mansion gave you a tour immediately, to show off his hoard, of course.

“You can pick whatever suite of rooms you’d prefer,” Heeseung explained. He threw his arms out to emphasize his point. “But you will live here. I don’t want any flimsy excuse such as transit being a reason why you couldn't work more hours.”

He was haughty, this new employer of yours. He spoke as if everything he said was a fact. But if you had had thousands of years absorbing countless texts of knowledge, perhaps you’d speak that way too. 

“Where would you like me to start?” You wondered tentatively, as the both of you strode through featureless hallways. 

“Here’s probably good,” Heeseung announced. 

He threw open two large doors and you whimpered in pain. Books, scrolls, even thumb drives, were thrown carelessly into piles here and there in the large room.

“‘Suppose it was used as a ballroom once but I have no need for dancing,” Heeseung elaborated. 

You stood up a little bit straighter, determined to do a good job, even if you felt overloaded with the amount of work. “I’ll make the appropriate arrangements.”

“Good,” Heeseung nodded firmly. “It’ll be good to have a new smell around here.”

And then he sent you a crooked smile that made your heart skip a beat. This dragon was dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with breathing fire.

If you were being honest, you rarely saw the dragon hybrid after that. He didn’t care to keep tabs on you and it allowed you plenty of breathing room to do as you pleased. 

And boy, was there a lot of work to do.

Just when you thought you had gathered all the floppy disks, you’d discover a new room, and have to start all over again. You had an absolute meltdown when you discovered a few towers of computers with audio books in the basement that was meant to store kegs of liquor, but luckily, no harm had befallen the electronics. 

That incident made you track down your employer. You found him in one of his many studies that fine rainy morning. Flashes of lightning reflected off  his glasses and the tiny horns protruding from his hair. His tail swishing contently like that of a cat pushed you over the edge.

“Do you have no care over your treasures?” You shouted at him. “You simply dump them willy-nilly!”

“Isn’t that a part of your job now?” Heeseung replied, eyes glued to his book of Plato. 

“I organize, yes,” You raged. “But I am not in control of you finding more books and throwing them into a bathroom that leaks!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Heeseung denied. You felt your hackles lower. Then he said, “I only put the audio recordings in there once.”

You let out a noise of frustration and left immediately after that. 

After that, you did your best to avoid the irritating dragon hybrid. Your job was to organize his hoard, after all, not engage in frustrating conversations. 

You fully dove into your job once again, pushing into the physical aspect of moving books around. You were careful with the older books, donning gloves to inspect the titles and dates they were published. Scrolls were a bit harder to categorize but you enjoyed rolling them and applying certain ribbons to keep them in their historic eras. 

Focusing on your work eased your heart and eventually you started to feel proud of what you had accomplished. You kept meticulous notes of how everything was organized, for reference for your employer, of course. 

Said dragon hybrid found you one day when you were struggling with a container of portable hard drives.

Heeseung walked in waving a book. “I found the original copy of The Hobbit! The version before JR Tolkein retconned it for the trilogy--”

You felt the dragon’s eyes upon you and you felt disgusting immediately. What did he see? A sweaty, gross blob that he had hired to paw through his precious treasures? You stared at the book Heeseung had, refusing to meet his eyes, fanning yourself. You were overheated and about to take a break anyways.

“I’ll put some gloves on. I know exactly where it’ll go. I found a lovely poem about poppies written in World War One, it’ll fit nicely there,” You murmured, looking around for your gloves.

Heeseung completed the steps it took to bring him flush with your body. He reached around you and pulled your gloves from your back pocket.

“They’re here,” he said, a slow smile pulling his lips as he offered them to you.

You swallowed, reaching to take the gloves from him. “Ah, thank--”

You were jerked forward when Heeseung yanked on the gloves instead of releasing them to you. “You smell like dust and books,” he informed you. Why did it sound like he was saying you smelled delicious?

“Well, I am working hard here, Heeseung,” You informed him, waving your hand indistinctly around the room. 

His eyes moved up and down your disheveled form. “I can see that.”

You refused to meet his eyes and tugged discreetly at the gloves. “If you would please…?”

“I mind greatly, in fact,” Heeseung murmured. 

Was it just you or were his lips getting closer to your face?

“Heeseung,” You whimpered.

The dragon hybrid’s pupils blew wide. “Say my name like that again.”

You shook your head. “I should get going.” 

You dropped your hold on the gloves and attempted to circumvent your hybrid dragon boss. Heeseung had other ideas, however. His tail wrapped around your waist and tugged you back to his vicinity. 

“Where are you going, little bookworm?” Heeseung drawled. 

You got shivers from the nickname. “To my room.”

Heeseung clucked his tongue mockingly at you. “I don’t think so. Why are you running away from your desire?”

The dragon hit the nail on the head. That was exactly what you were doing. 

“You’re my employer. We shouldn’t cross any lines,” You argued softly.

Heeseung cocked his head. “Who’s to say what we do is wrong? No one governs me and my treasure.”

Goosebumps littered your body. “Stop that.”

Heeseung chuckled deeply. “I like you. I think I’ll keep you.”

You had a moment of courage, dragging your eyes up to meet his. The lizard-like slit that served as a pupil was almost overtaking his silver iris’. “Where would you put me? With the books? The floppy disks?”

“In my bed,” the man said with no hesitation in his voice.

“Will we make it to your bed?” You wondered.

“No.”

Heeseung’s strong fingers dug into your hair as he held your head in place to kiss you. It was slow and sensual, and you felt like you were drowning in desire. His tongue swept along the seam of your lips and you automatically opened for him. You felt his moan against your lips as he plunged his tongue inside your mouth. His tongue slowly coaxed yours into submission, to the point when Heeseung ended the kiss, your tongue came out to chase his. 

Heeseung smirked confidently. “That’s a good look on you.”

You struggled to think through the lust-filled haze your head was currently. “I--”

Heeseung’s fingers untangled themselves from your hair and opted instead to wrap around your wrist. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, my little bookworm.”

Take care of you he did. Amongst his treasures that you had been busy sorting, he rid you of all your clothes, and his own. The look of absolute hunger on his face never disappeared. It made your heart beat, being viewed as one of the scrolls he snatched up and wanted to read. The loud obsession written all over his face made you feel something a little bit more than lust. 

Heeseung bade you to lay down and his eyes twinkled, a slight smile pulling at the edge of his lips. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to try a position from the Kama Sutra. It's called Splitting the Bamboo.”

After you nod, curious as to what Heeseung wants to do with you. 

You watch with interest as he straddles your left leg and pushes your right leg upwards. He presses wet, open mouth kisses along your calf. He moved up your leg until his pelvis was lined up with yours. 

“Can I fill you up?” The dragon hybrid asked you seductively. 

You nod again, your mind filled with only thoughts of Heeseung--all thoughts of your ‘boss’ gone out the window.

Heeseung bit down on his lower lip as he pushed into your wet core. The process of sheathing himself inside of you was pleasurable, making you mewl as he did so. A confident smile continued to pull at Heeseung’s lips; as if he took pride in making you feel good. 

“Does my little bookworm want to be pleased some more?” He crooned softly.

You couldn't decide if he was being condescending or looking to take care of you, but either way your lower half became wetter at the phrase. “Move, please,” You pleaded.

Heeseung settled into gentle waves between your legs, slowly building the pleasure inside of you. Sweet, gentle kisses littered your leg that remained slightly over his shoulder. For someone who was so matter-of-fact and flirty, you had not expected such gentle lovemaking. It was making your mind swirl dangerously.

You reached down to swipe your finger through your folds to play with your clit but Heeseung’s tail wrapped around your wrist and intercepted you. 

“I’ll get you to your climax,” He informed you coolly. “Be patient.”

The maddening pace Heeseung set drove you wild. You begged, you raged, you negotiated but Heeseung would not speed up his thrusting. If anything, he played with your body, as if your words were simply buzzing flies around his head. He would grip your breast, squeezing appreciatively, tweaking your nipple but never did his fingers flirt with your clit. 

It felt like hours that you were in a lust-filled haze, your stomach curling and winding with pleasure. “Please,” You gasped, “Please, I wanna come.”

“You should appreciate the time,” Heeseung hummed. “This is an artform.”

You let out a groan of frustration, clawing through the lust, and reached up to grab Heeseung’s horns. The hybrid let out a breathy cry, like you touching his horns did something for him. You both froze. 

Heeseung changed positions, pressing your knees to your shoulders. You groaned at how deeply he was inside of you now. He placed both of your hands on his horns again. “Hold on,” he instructed.

Heeseung lost his poise as you held onto his horns. His thrusts became sloppy and quick. A groan grew in his chest and rumbled out of his mouth. All you could do was be a receptacle for his passion and you weren’t sure you wanted it any other way. His dick was hitting so deep inside you that your jaw fell open as your climax wound tighter inside of you.

“Oh gods, Heeseung!” You shouted out his name as your climax hit you like a train.

Heeseung arched his back and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came inside of you. He was muttering ‘mine,mine,mine’ under his breath as his hips chased out his own climax.

All you could hear for a while was Heeseung’s heavy breathing and your whimpers as you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. You had most definitely NOT expected that when you got hired. 

Then, abruptly, Heeseung was removing himself from you and gathered his clothes. “You should clean up and take a break. You worked hard today.”

You watched Heeseung as he wandered out of the room without another word. 

You clutched your clothes to your body, feeling foolish. Everything was simply a transaction for the dragon hybrid. Obviously he thought he could fuck you and then move on. You tried to pick up the pieces of your heart off the floor along with your discarded clothing. But it was hard.

After the sex session in the room that held most of the modern books Heeseung hoarded, you were unsure where the two of you stood. It had been lovely and Heeseung certainly hadn't ravaged you like a beast, but without any words to soothe your anxiety, you spiraled days later.

“It’s fine,” You spoke to yourself out loud. 

You decided to rearrange the floppy disks according to color, certain your brain couldn't handle any actual, productive organization at this time. “I’m just another piece of his hoard, after all. He can fuck me then discard me. No strings attached.”

My little bookworm~

The nickname was infuriating, to say the least. You had to admit it matched the scenario, not to mention it made you shiver in a good way the way he crooned it, but infuriating nonetheless. What did it mean?!

“Nothing, it means nothing,” You muttered.

You couldn't decide if a floppy disk was cobalt or purple and tossed it in frustration. 

“And you said I was the one that didn’t treat my treasures with respect,” Heeseung mused out loud behind you, scaring the shit out of you.

“Heeseung!” You exclaimed, jumping up like you had been caught red-handed.

The dragon hybrid cocked his head curiously at you. “What’s got you in such a mood, little bookworm? Usually you hum and are quite happy to do your job. It’s why you got it, you know. You said you loved to organize. Such happy vibrations are good for the aura of my hoard. What’s got your horn in a twist?”

Dragons had weird sayings. Aren’t their horns already twisted?

“Nothing,” You couldn't help but pout. 

What was the point of talking about it when you felt silly in the first place? It was just sex, after all. Or that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

Heeseung had his tail draped elegantly over the crook of his arm, almost like a lady with a long train of her dress. He took a step towards you. “Do you need to unwind? Perhaps we could--”

You threw your hand up, stopping him mid-sentence. “That’s what got us here in the first place, Heeseung, I’d rather not.”

The dragon hybrid sent you a confused look. Even with his eyebrows furrowed, he looked delectable. It wasn’t fair. “Did you not enjoy it?”

“I did!” You stomped your foot for emphasis. “That’s the point! I enjoyed it so much, I don’t know what my heart feels anymore. And you clearly don’t have one.”

The corner of Heeseung’s lip pulled up in a sneer. “Are you saying dragons don’t have hearts? I didn’t think you were one of those humans. Good enough to fuck but not good enough to give your heart to?”

The silly statement slapped you in the face. “What? No, I’m saying you’ve confused me! I think I might like you but you’re so cool and collected. You patted me on the back and sent me on my way afterwards for christ sake!” Your head hung low in defeat. “Clearly I’m the only one that’s feeling anything here.”

Heeseung chuckled softly. “Oh, humans are ridiculous.”

Heeseung pulled you close to him and nuzzled your cheek. “You’re a part of my hoard now, little bookworm. I claimed you as my own. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“That I’m your property?” You stated bluntly.

“You are mine,” Heeseung emphasized. “Mine to tease, mine to tempt, mine to love.”

You raised your head hopefully. “So you did feel something for me when we slept together?”

“I’m a dragon,” Heeseung said teasingly, winking down at you. “I feel deeply about everything. It was up to your human heart to catch up.”

“Well you certainly don’t show it well,” You continued to pout.

Heeseung let out a noise, caught between a growl and a laugh. “I’ve given you a place in my mansion, let you touch everything I cherish, including my body, and you say I don’t show it well? Should I gift you the scroll that Achilles wrote to Patraclus? Shall I find you a scribbled piece of paper with Romeo’s lines to Juliet? Share with you the movie Titanic where great love conquers all? What would you like of me, little bookworm? I would do it all.”

You gape at the most long winded speech you had ever heard from Heeseung. If you were being honest with yourself, you’d listen to him all day if you could. But it wasn’t about the lilt of his voice, it was about the contents. Who knew your haughty dragon boss could wax poetic so romantically?

“That would do it, I suppose,” You couldn't help but sulk.

Heeseung laughed. “Didn’t I say I liked you and that I was going to keep you?”

You swallowed, remembering the moment vividly. “Do I still belong in your bed?”

Heeseung’s pupils blew again but instead he responded with. “You belong in my heart.”

As it turned out, it was Heeseung that had something to teach you about organization.

1- La Gemme at l'extase with Hyunjin {fantasy dragon} | 2- Le Livre at le plaisir with Heeseung {modern dragon} | 3- ??? with San {sci-fi dragon}

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 13

[Master List]

TW for implied/referenced sexual assault of a minor!!!

Things had been going well recently- well- well enough. Miguel had been in a foul mood since Jason’s tutoring session but refused to tell Danny what had caused it but other than that, things had been fine. Santi had been spending time at Danny’s to both give his brother some space and get some himself, Dani had scheduled her first (and hopefully only) GED test, and Sam and Tucker had started packing.

Tucker said his job interview went well but he hadn’t heard back yet. That didn’t matter because where Sam went, Tucker went, so they’d begun packing up their apartment and planned to find a day Danny could help them move. Wes had been texting more too, and they’d also planned to find a day when either of them could visit the other in their town and hang out one on one.

(“We have to meet up in Metropolis so I can prove to you that my coworker Clark Kent is Superman and that I’m not crazy! Not only that- but the other Supers? Superboy the first is definitely his clone- I mean they look practically identical! I’m betting on the last one being his son, but that could be wrong- either way you have to visit because-”)

That’s why it only made sense that the universe pay Danny back. After all, if he had a good ish few days, he deserved to have a really shitty one to compensate, right?

Danny went over to the boys to make breakfast like he did most days (whether they came out of their rooms to eat before he left for work or not was up to them, but there would be food there if they did), Santiago had dragged himself to the kitchen table and started eating while talking with Danny about his plans for the day.

He wasn’t sure what had caused it but only a moment after Miguel had walked into the kitchen to silently grab food and leave (like he did most mornings- he really wasn’t a morning person) he froze, grew angry, and started shouting at Danny. Even Santi seemed caught off guard by the things he yelled. “You’re not our dad!” and “We don’t need you!” and other hurtful things were flung at Danny until the man calmly (only outwardly) stood up, and removed himself from the situation.

Danny had never had anger issues per se, but he’d had a lot of anger in his lifetime and nowhere to put it. He’d learned a long time ago that when he was angry- like angry-hurt-angry -he needed to stop, get out of the situation upsetting him, and come back to it later. So he did.

When he got to work he was still hurt and upset but he tried to push the feeling away and get some work done. Ember messaged him to let him know she wouldn’t be coming today which… she could have let him know with a little more notice but it was fine! Everything was fine! It was a Wednesday which meant Duke would be in so it would be fine.

Two parents didn’t follow the rules about dropping off sick kids (he couldn’t exactly blame them but…) and he had to call their families to come pick them up only a couple of hours after drop-off. Along with that a bunch of the, typically, well behaved kids were acting out (was it a full moon or something?) and it ended up being an incredibly exhausting morning for everybody.

Around lunch he slipped into his office for ten minutes of peace and quiet before sending a clone back out to do his job and staying to work on an overwhelming amount of paperwork he’d been neglecting. Between both of his jobs it was never ending.

It was an hour until check out, though many parents got out of work before closing time and had already picked up their kids, and they still had twelve kids between himself and Duke. There was a loud crash and shriek from the main room that didn’t sound quite harmless and Danny immediately tapped into what his clone was experiencing.

“-kids are the best for my tests after all!”

Danny’s clone was standing in front of the kids defensively, face to face with three goons and the ugliest… person? He’d ever seen. They didn’t look like a person fully, more like a-

“Scarecrow.” Duke muttered from his right where he also stood protectively in front of a group of kids. 

“Now, let’s see how this new strain works on kids.” He leered.

Fuck. Fuck that. Danny stopped looking through his clone’s eyes and stood up. He needed to do something, he needed to- He looked down. He needed to transform. After becoming the king of the Infinite Realms Danny had gotten a new transformation, sort of. It was essentially Phantom, but more regal, more royal. He hadn’t transformed into his typical Phantom form- his ghost fighting vigilante form, since the incident.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and transformed. He only took a moment to glance at himself and note that his outfit was different, without actually being able to see what all was different, before using invisibility and intangibility and flying out of the room to deal with the fucker who dared threaten his kids.

~~~

“Demon brat! No one cares about your blood status!” Jason cut in. Despite his words, there wasn’t any real bite to them and everyone knew it. It was rare for Jason to spend any time at the manor, sometimes he came to the cave for emergencies, but that was the cave. The manor? Practically unheard of unless Alfred had specifically told Jason to be there, usually for Sunday brunch. But it was neither Sunday, nor Alfred’ request that brought Jason to the manor.

The fact that he’d randomly dropped by for dinner that night had been a surprise to everyone, but not an unwelcome one. Even Damian seemed to be less irritable than usual. Jason couldn’t figure out what had possessed him to drop by. He’d woken up a couple of hours before, did some work, made some food for the Nightingales (you couldn’t convince Jason that those boys weren’t Danny’s kids), and then he’d just…. Driven to the manor. Like it was natural. 

When Bruce had seen him chilling on a couch in the main living room, he’d gotten emotional, choking back his joy and trying not to make Jason uncomfortable by hovering. (He definitely hovered.) When Jason had mentioned he’d be joining them for dinner, the man’s eyes got misty and Jason ditched him to help Alfred in the kitchen.

Before the youngest could retort, they all got an alert on their phone. The ‘emergency’ alert that was programmed to come through even if their phones were on silent- hell, even if they were shut off, the emergency alert would come through.

Everyone scrambled for their phones, pushing away from the table and towards the study. They were all accounted for at the moment. Jason had come over for dinner, Dick was on a date, Tim and Damian had been home and eating dinner with Jason and Bruce, Steph and Cass were having a girls night with Babs, and Duke-

Duke.

He was supposed to be at work for a little while longer. Pulling up the feed on Duke’s phone and displaying it on the batcomputer, Bruce began to assess the situation while everyone began suiting up. 

Jason came back in time to see what was happening and noted that not only was Scarecrow on the screen, but Danny was standing to the left and slightly in front of Duke. Of course he was- Duke worked at Danny’s daycare after all. 

(When he’d learned Duke was working at Danny’s daycare he’d immediately grown suspicious and, after hacking into the bats computer, he found he was right to be. Tim had a whole folder on ‘Daniel Nightingale’ and everything he knew about the man which was- admittedly not a lot. Jason couldn’t really be angry (yes he could) about Tim’s hyper paranoia but it was kind of annoying.)

“Now, let’s see how well this new strain works on kids.” Scarecrow said, reaching into his pocket. 

Danny shifted slightly, gesturing behind himself until the kids who’d clung to him scrambled back towards Duke. The camera angle shifted slightly as Duke pushed more kids behind himself and inched them towards where Jason assumed they’d be safer. “Yeah, I don’t think so buddy.” The twink of a man stepped forward and Jason was reminded that this was the same twink who’d killed the Joker. One shotted him, actually.

Still, he didn’t want to take any chances and rushed to his bike.

“B, have O send the footage to my helmet.” He ordered before taking off, followed closely by Red Robin, and only a moment later, Batman and Robin.

As he zipped through the streets, he listened to what was happening. 

“Such courage! Not for long. What do you think you can do to fight fear?” Scarecrow mocked. “You’ll soon see your worst fear. You won’t be so brave then. No one can fight fear!”

“I already have. Not interested in a repeat.” Danny ground out before tackling the man to the ground. B growled over the comms as the vial of fear toxin was flung out of Scarecrow’s hands and careened to the ground.

There was no sound of impact and before Jason could glance at his screen to see what was happening, Duke’s broadcast cut out.

“Hood, ETA?” Batman growled snappily.

“Two minutes.” He responded irritably, green clouding the edges of his vision again, worse than usual. Now that he thought about it, it’d been a couple of days since he’d experienced any Pit Rage symptoms. Fuck, not the time.

In the two minutes it took to get to the Daycare, Jason couldn’t help but wonder; how the fuck did Danny always manage to get into these situations? And how would the man get himself out of it this time? (Hopefully not through murder ((even though it was kind of hot))).

~~~

“I already have. Not interested in a repeat.” Danny heard his clone say before tackling the rogue to the ground. A vial of toxic gas flew through the air and Phantom rushed to catch it. Once he’d grabbed it, he phased it into his body for safe keeping, and removed his invisibility. Clone Danny was still fighting Scarecrow but the rogue’s goons had burst through the doors only a moment later and surrounded them. 

Phantom rushed the goons, landing on the ground and matching them blow for blow. “Get the kids out of here!” He shouted at his clone, not waiting for a response before giving the fight his full attention.

Three goons jumped at him. Phantom disarmed the first one, snapping the gun in half before tossing the broken pieces to the side. The second goons opened fire, not taking care of his fellow goons and actually hitting the third guy- were these goons for real? Any bullets that should have hit him, flew straight through him, until the man had used all of his bullets. Scarecrow pulled out another vial and three things happened at once.

Red Hood crashed through one of the windows (ugh, he’d have to get that replaced, it was hard to find good window installers in this city), Phantom inhaled something sweet and minty that made him feel strange, and, distracted by the new smell and sensation, a bullet lodged in his shoulder. Oddly enough, it didn’t hurt at all.

The goon who shot him was knocked to the side by Red Hood who seemed to be fighting with a vengeance and that was when Phantom realized eight more goons had crowded into the building. Taking a risk, Phantom tapped into his clone’s senses to make sure the kids were safe, and once he knew they were, he went all out.

Punching the nearest goon firmly in the chest, they crashed into another one who stumbled. Phantom spun around, round-house kicking the goon who’d rushed him after his buddy had been knocked out. It took only a couple of minutes before Red Hood and Phantom had knocked out all but the last goon- Scarecrow had long since run.

Grabbing the last guy by the shirt, he pulled him close. Hood gave him a strange look (yes Danny was fairly sure he could read the man’s expressions through the helmet) but he ignored it. He had a message to deliver.

“I hope you’re listening carefully, because I need you to tell all of your little friends, your employer, and everyone you run across something for me. Are you listening?” He asked as if he was speaking to a child. The goon nodded and a noise behind Phantom almost made him take his focus off of his message, but he pushed it away, still feeling strangely tingly from whatever the Scarecrow had dosed him with.

“Good. You tell your boss that this daycare- that Danny Nightingale- is protected. If I catch so much as a whiff of a plot against this place or that man, I’ll hunt you and your friends down and show you just how scary I can be, got it?” His fangs, pointed ears, and bluish skin had become more prominent throughout the years and while he was certainly humanoid, he was quite alien looking. It scared people.

The goon nodded, terrified, and Phantom dropped him. The moment he hit the ground he was running. 

Phantom dusted his hands off and turned to Red Hood only to find Batman and Robin also standing behind him. “Oh, hi.” He smiled, waving awkwardly.

“Who are you?” Batman demanded.

Cocking his head to the side in consideration, Phantom tried to focus through the strange(ly good) feeling coursing through his body. “I’m Phantom. Who are you?”

It was clearly not what Batman expected him to say. Of course Phantom knew who Batman was, but he didn’t want to give the idea that he’d researched Gotham, that he was from Gotham. Hopefully this would be one of the only times he’d be needed as Phantom while living here and  they could all forget this happened.

Red Hood chuckled. “Damn Old man, losing your touch.”

“Hood.” Batman deadpanned.

“Like the Red Hood?” Phantom asked innocently.

They all looked at him oddly. He recognized Red Hood but not Batman? Once Hood nodded, Phantom took the opportunity to finally thank the man for all he’d done for his people.

“Damn, you’re even hotter in person.” He smirked.

“Huh?” Hood blue screened.

Batman tried to cut in. “Phantom-”

Phantom began floating, leaning back casually and placing his hands behind his head. “I’ve already left you speechless, huh? Listen, Hood, I’ve gotta thank you, honestly.”

“What is happening?” Robin hissed under his breath. Batman seemed just as at a loss as Robin. Even Hood didn’t seem to understand what was happening.

“Let me re-introduce myself.” Phantom smiled at the group sweetly. “I’m Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms, Defeater of Pariah Dark, and Bringer of Peace. And you, Red Hood, are known throughout the realms as the Avenger of the Dead.” He could practically hear Hood’s jaw dropping. “My people speak highly of you and I’ve always wanted an excuse to visit Gotham to thank you, formally, for all you’ve done for my people.” He’d stopped floating after citing his title and letting his kingly regalia appear but now he was bowing at the waist to the Red Hood.

“Uh- wha-”

“You’re thanking him for murder?” Robin asked, voice strained.

Straightening out, Phantom noted the discomfort in Batman’s stance. “I’m thanking him for avenging innocent people. My people.” Turning back to Hood, Phantom offered him a little card. “This is my personal summoning circle, call me if you ever want to get coffee, hot stuff.” He winked and faded into invisibility just as the police barged through the front doors, leaving behind a very confused crime lord (who he suspected was blushing) and two vigilantes.

Oh yeah, that was more fun than he’d imagined.

~~~

The rest of the night was long and testing and Danny just wanted to go home. The parents who’d come to pick up their kids were in a panic, everyone wanted to question Danny, and Red Hood had run off before they’d been able to talk. To be fair, the vigilante had tried to get Danny’s attention multiple times but he’d been busy making sure each parent got their kid, the police got their statement, and Duke knew he was to take the next week off to recover.

He’d spoken to Batman which was cool sort of, and after alerting the boys that he’d be home very late that night, cleaned up what he could before going on his way. Lady Fate was cruel for piling the frustrations on top of each other that day, but even she wasn’t cruel enough to keep him from his bed and a nice long night of (probably lying in bed being unable to) sleep. Right?

It’s like he was jinxing himself or something. Clockwork had to be watching and laughing right now, right?

Riding the elevator up to his apartment- yes he could fly, but he was honestly exhausted after the crash that came after whatever tingly high he’d gotten from the Scarecrow fear toxin- and he just wanted to drag himself to his apartment slowly and painstakingly before collapsing. He checked his messages on the ride up.

Miguel had texted to confirm Danny’s late arrival home tonight (literally just a thumbs up emoji, apparently he was still upset with Danny for whatever reason), Dani had texted to inform him she’d be spending the night at Jazz’s, Tucker had sent him a meme about the Gotham vigilantes, and Santiago had texted him-

His blood ran cold- well, colder than it usually was- as he read the boys message. It had come through only three minutes before.

Santi: Danny please come home

Santi: Miguel needs help

Santi: He won’t let me outta the closet

Saying fuck it, Danny turned intangible and flew through the remaining floors and landing on his floor. He was stopped in his tracks by a man leaning heavily against the boys apartment door and shouting through it.

“Get the fuck out ‘ere! You worthless good-for-nothin’ kids!” The man slurred. “Mick! Santi! Get yer sorry assess out ‘ere! You know ‘ow hard I ‘ad ta look for ya?”

Danny grabbed the man's shoulder with inhuman strength and wrenched him away from the boy's apartment, putting himself between them. “Who the fuck are you?” Danny asked, letting his anger seep out, the hallway growing colder.

The man gave Danny an unimpressed look. “This is whoya been kissin’ up to? Huh?” He shouted past Danny and towards the apartment. “How’re you payin’ ‘im, eh Mick?” His voice grew suggestive as he looked Danny up and down. “Payin’ ‘im like ya did the las’ one?”

It was growing obvious that the man was inebriated, though Danny wasn’t going to let that excuse his behavior. It also seemed, the man knew Miguel and Santi and Danny shuddered to think he might be their father. “Listen buddy.” Danny grit his teeth. “You’re trespassing. Leave, before I call the cops.”

“Ha- cops? YOU’RE holdin’ MY kids captive! I should call the cops myself!” The man stepped closer, towering over Danny and definitely believing himself to be intimidating. “‘M sure you can find some other street kids ta get you off.” He offered suggestively. “My boys’re mine. I’ll fergive ya this once fer borrowing them- I know ‘ow temptin’ they can be- ‘specially Mick. ‘e’s got a mouth on ‘im-”

That’s when Danny’s patience ran out. He didn’t realize it until his fist had met the other man's jaw, leaving him doing the towering. He didn’t remember it- not really. One moment he felt his fist connect with the man’s face and the next someone had wrapped their arms around his torso and began dragging him away from an unconscious body. Someone was crying- someone was shouting.

Someone was threatening my kid.

It was the only thought he’d remembered from during the altercation. Although, altercation implied it was two sided, by the look of the man’s completely smashed and bloody face, it had not been two sided. 

“Calm down, Danny, you’re okay, the boys are okay- the boys are okay.” The voice repeated over and over again, trapping him close to their body and taking each elbow to the face or ribs while Danny tried to get away before coming back to himself.

His heart rate had been through the roof and after coming back to awareness, Danny felt exhaustion overtaking his body. His eyelids drooped as his body sank back into whoever was holding him. Someone was still crying.

Eyes flying open, Danny sat up, prying the man’s arms off of him, and moving towards the sound of the crying.

“Danny- don’t.” 

That was when he recognized the voice and finally listened to it. 

“You need to clean up before going in there.” Hood said, gently but firmly.

Why? Why did he- his eyes landed on the hand he’d placed on the doorknob. It was covered in blood- none if it was his. Lifting his other hand, Danny found it in a similar condition and understood. He’d just beaten Miguel and Santiago’s dad within an inch of his life while both boys were on the other side of a very thin door. Sniffling from the other side of the door alerted Danny that the person who’d been crying was Miguel.

Locking his jaw, Danny nodded sharply, twice, before turning and going to his apartment without so much as looking at Hood. The sooner he cleaned the blood off his hands and changed into clean clothes, the sooner he could see if the boys were okay.

Danny didn’t like what he saw in the mirror- and not in the teenage-angst-and-insecurity kind of way, but in the face-covered-in-my-kids’-dad’s-blood kind of way. His hair was crusty with it- how hard did he hit the guy? Thinking back, he was relieved to find he didn’t use any of his ghost strength and the man would (probably ((unfortunately))) recover.

It was the fastest shower Danny had ever taken. Tearing his hands through his hair to get the blood out, scrubbing down his hands and face, he couldn’t get done quick enough. Slipping on sweatpants and an oversized hoodie he didn’t remember owning, Danny made his way into the hall. He was surprised to find it empty, lacking both Hood and the body but shrugged it off and calmly opened the apartment.

“-thing’s gonna be okay. You did the right thing, kid.” He heard Hood saying. But it wasn’t the familiar modulated voice Danny had grown accustomed to- it was the voice that’d asked him ‘how old were you?’ the voice that asked ‘you died and came back wrong?’ a voice that was calm, collected, reassuring.

“He’s not gonna be angry at me?” Came Miguel’s sniffled response.

Before Hood could answer, Danny stepped into the living room. “Are you okay?” He asked, trying to hide how frantically he’d like to be looking over the boy. He kept his distance. He’d just beaten his kids’ dad- almost to death- with only a thin door separating them. He wouldn’t be surprised if Miguel never wanted to see him again.

Even if his dad was a shitbag.

Miguel nodded, hesitantly. “I’m sorry- I shoulda told you-” The boy was clearly trying not to cry again, his entire frame was shaking and he looked tiny standing beside Hood.

Sensing that Miguel wasn’t angry at him, but rather, thought it’d be the other way around, Danny shoved past the vigilante and pulled the boy into his arms. “Oh my Ancients- you have nothing to apologize for, Miguel. Are you okay?” He pulled back, sizing the boy up. He had a quickly forming black eye and a split lip, his clothes were ruffled, but otherwise he looked physically okay.

“‘M okay.” He confirmed shakily. 

Danny felt another body press against his and found Santi pushing himself between them and burying his face in Danny’s stomach. He could feel Hood’s eyes tracking their movements, but for once, his mind barely registered the vigilante. “Are you okay, Santi?”

The boy nodded silently, wrapping his arms around Danny. “You got my texts.” He states, voice muffled by Danny’s sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner.” Danny said softly, holding Miguel close with one arm and Santi with the other.

“I shoulda told you- I knew- ‘e found somma my buddies,” Miguel sniffled, unable to meet Danny’s eyes. “‘E asked ‘em where I was an’ they warned me ‘bout it.”

Danny shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Miguel.”

“I shouldn’ta said all those things this mornin’!” He cried. “I din’t mean it! Please don’ be mad at me!” The teenager buried his face in Danny’s shoulder which grew wet quickly.

A voice cut through Danny’s thoughts. “I’m going to head out, I’ve taken care of everything, text me if you need me.” Hood said calmly from the window sill. Before Danny could mention you never gave me your phone number how on this Earth would he text the vigilante the man had slipped out the window and grappled away. What did he mean he’d taken care of everything? 

Sniffling cut off that line of thinking and Danny steered the boys to the couch. “Come here.” He said, pulling both boys down after him and holding them closely, in a way he hoped was comforting. In the way Jazz always held him after a nightmare. “You’re okay, I’ve got you both. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” He soothed, running one hand through Miguel’s hair gently and the other across Santiago’s back. 

“I’m sorry.” Miguel said between little gasps for air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Danny mumbled, continuing his gentle ministrations. “I’ve got you both.” He felt them both growing stiller and stiller. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

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