#I have a table called “Relationships with Others” in my planning document

[onlinesuzie]

♡ martin’s dare for you and hamzah ♡

words: 2.3k

genre: i’m not sure but there is heavy making out

summary: You and Hamzah were put together for a video idea. The only issue is that you have to stay alone in the same small hotel room, and with Martin and Mandy’s teasing truth or dares for the video, you and Hamzah share a little more than was expected.

note: still working on my hamzah x love island pt.2 but wanted to post so i hope you enjoy!!

☆

With the growth of the channel, Hamzah and Martin wanted to create higher-budget content for their new subscribers. This time, they decided to film a budget hotel compared to an expensive hotel video like many YouTubers had been doing recently. They realized that with the influx in followers, they would have to separate themselves to create a more exciting video. While Martin was set to bring Mandy along for the luxurious stay, Hamzah found himself without a filming partner for the budget hotel.

You and Hamzah had known each other through Martin when you were in school together. You were a help for the channel for a while, not necessarily an editor, but you would always be there to be a second set of eyes for any videos the channel would release. You had helped them because of your close relationship with Martin, but it would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy the nights you would be left alone on call with Hamzah while you went over video ideas when Martin was gone.

Nervous excitement coursed through you as you thought of him. You couldn't help but feel delighted that they would invite you along; it felt like the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. You thought well of Hamzah; you always saw him as hardworking and dedicated to the channel, but you wished you could know more about him. He was always quite awkward sometimes on call when it was just the two of you, and you hoped that any nerves you were worried about would be smoothed out by the time the video came around.

———

The café was buzzing with chatter as you walked in, scanning the room for familiar faces. Mandy and Martin had chosen a cozy corner table by the window, and you spotted them immediately. Hamzah was already there, sitting across from them, nursing a coffee. The sight of him sent a little flutter through your stomach.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” you called out as you approached the table.

Mandy waved you over with a big smile. “No worries! We just got here ourselves. Grab a seat!”

You slid into the chair next to Hamzah, feeling a slight thrill as your knees brushed under the table. “Hey, Hamzah,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

“Hey,” he replied, giving you a warm smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you felt a blush creep onto your face.

Martin leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed. “So, you guys ready for this? Epic, cool, rich, amazing me and Mandy versus you two. Should be interesting, still can’t believe that you agreed for me and Mandy get the better one.”

“It’s just cause I actually like Mandy and want her to have a nice room, unlike you,” you joked, nudging Hamzah playfully.

Hamzah chuckled, though you could sense a bit of his usual nervousness with you. “Yeah, I’m sure Mandy and Martin will still find a way to complain though, especially Martin cause that’s literally all he knows.”

Mandy rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, Hamzah. You’ll have fun too. Just think of it as an experience.”

Hamzah nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, I know. It’ll be fine.”

Martin leaned forward, excitement in his eyes. “Alright, so here’s the plan. We’ll check into our respective hotels, get some footage of the rooms and our first impressions. Then, we’ll each order room service and document what we get. Should give us a good comparison I think.”

“How do we even know that we can get room service?” Hamzah questioned

“Well that would be even better! Maybe you’d actually spend your money on getting dinner with a girl instead of just talking about it all the time” Mandy laughed

“I literally didn’t even ask you” Hamzah bickered back.

Everyone agreed, the plan seeming solid. As the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but notice how Hamzah’s gaze kept drifting toward you. The four of you spent the next hour discussing the logistics of the video, what shots to capture, and how to compare the two hotels effectively. Despite the casual nature of the conversation, you felt a growing sense of anticipation for the evening ahead.

As you all stood up to leave, Mandy gave you a sly smile. “You two have fun tonight. And Hamzah, take care of our girl here.”

Hamzah blushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course. We’ll be fine.”

Martin placed his hand on Hamzah’s back. “Just think of it as another mukbang for the channel. And remember, we can always edit out any embarrassing moments.”

Hamzah laughed, though you could see the tension in his eyes. “Got it. No pressure, right?”

As you walked out of the café, you fell into step beside Hamzah. “You okay?” you asked softly.

He glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, just... a little nervous, I guess. But I’m glad you’re coming along.”

“Me too,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words.

As you all made your way to the parking lot, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be more than just another video shoot. The unspoken tension between you and Hamzah was getting thick.

When you arrived at the budget hotel, the reality struck. The room was small, and the only bed was a double. Hamzah's stomach twisted at the thought of sharing such intimate quarters. "This is... cozy," he said, forcing a laugh.

You grinned, "More like snug, but we'll make it work!"

The budget hotel room felt cramped, a stark contrast to the lavish suite Mandy and Martin were enjoying just a few streets down. You and Hamzah sat on the edge of the small bed, laptops open as you looked over a list of dares sent by Martin and Mandy.

"Okay, your turn," you said, stifling a laugh as you read aloud,

"Truth or dare?"

Hamzah leaned back, arms crossed, trying to play it cool. "Dare, obviously. I'm not afraid of whatever Martin has to say."

With a grin, you scrolled down the list until you found one that made your eyes widen. "Let's see... Oh, this one's interesting.

“Kiss someone in the room!"

Hamzah's eyes widened, and he quickly glanced around the tiny space as if looking for an escape. "Uh, no way. That must've been meant for Martin and Mandy. We can't do that one," he stammered, his nervousness evident.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Come on, Hamzah.

Don't be a coward. It's just a dare! Besides, it's not like Martin and Mandy would mind-they're probably expecting us to follow through."

"Seriously? Martin must be messing with us. He's being so cringe including that dare," Hamzah mumbled, clearly flustered.

"There's no way I'm doing it."

You leaned in slightly, enjoying the effect your words had on him.

"Then why don't you just kiss me? Unless you're scared," you challenged, your tone playful but laced with sincerity.

Hamzah swallowed hard, his eyes darting around as he searched for a safe response. "You're joking, right?"

"Not really," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Come on, it's just a kiss."

"Okay, okay! I'll do it," he said, his resolve shaky but determined.

"But just a quick peck, alright?"

You nodded, excitement bubbling inside you. Hamzah moved closer, hesitating for a moment before leaning in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, light and tentative.

It was soft-just a fleeting moment-but it sent electricity coursing through you. He pulled back quickly, his eyes wide.

"See? Not so scary, right?"

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of boldness. "Maybe not so scary, but definitely not enough," you teased.

Before Hamzah could respond, you reached out, your hand touching his arm. The room seemed to shrink around you as you leaned in again. This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving together with a newfound urgency. Hamzah's hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer.

His lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with nervousness, but more eagerness. You responded, your fingers threading through his hair as the kiss grew more passionate. You could feel his breath quicken, matching your own as the intensity between you heightened.

Hamzah's hand slid up the back of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine. He broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

Seeing none, he leaned in again, this time letting his lips trail down to your neck.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

"Yes," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "Don't stop."

The sensation of his lips on your neck made you gasp softly, “Hamzah…” a thrill running through you. You tilted your head slightly, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, his kisses growing more confident and daring.

"You taste amazing," he breathed, his words sending another shiver through you.

The white noise of the camera equipment around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own world. Each kiss, each touch, felt like a new discovery, and the cramped hotel room seemed to disappear as you lost yourselves in the moment. Hamzah's hand cupped your cheek, guiding your lips back to his. The kiss deepened further, his tongue brushing against yours, eliciting a soft moan from you. The passion between you was undeniable, and you both reveled in the electricity of the moment.

"You have no idea how long l've wanted to do this," he admitted between kisses, his voice filled with desire.

"Me too," you confessed, your heart pounding. "I've been waiting for this."

Minutes felt like hours as you continued to explore each other, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. Finally, you pulled back, both of you breathless and flushed, surprise and exhilaration in your eyes.

Hamzah whispered, his voice husky. "I didn't expect that."

"You’re so cute," you replied, smiling.

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "Thank you."

For a moment, you just sat there, the intensity of what had just happened lingering in the air.

Hamzah cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, uh, about the video,” he started, a smile forming on his lips. “We should probably get back to it, right?”

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart but feeling a giggle bubbling up. “Yeah, definitely. Can’t forget why we’re here.”

As you both sat up and reached for your laptops, the atmosphere between you felt lighter. You couldn’t help but glance at him every few seconds, each time catching his eye and bursting into laughter.

“So, what’s next on the list?” Hamzah asked, his voice filled with amusement.

You scrolled through the list of dares and challenges, trying to focus. “Let’s see… looks like we’re supposed to compare the room service menus next,” you said, stifling a giggle as you met his gaze again.

Hamzah chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, room service. Let’s see if this place has anything decent.”

As you both began browsing the hotel’s menu, the awkwardness started to fade, replaced by a comfortable, shared amusement. Every time your eyes met, you couldn’t help but smile, thinking about the kiss.

“Look at this,” Hamzah said, pointing to his screen. “They actually have a ‘budget burger.’ I wonder if it’s as sad as it sounds.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “We have to try it. For the sake of the video, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed, grinning. “Anything for the content.”

You both placed an order, deciding to film your reactions to the food as part of the video. As you waited for the delivery, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by shared glances and quiet laughter.

“Do you think Martin and Mandy are actually doing any of the dares we sent them?” you asked, leaning back on your hands.

Hamzah laughed, shaking his head. “Knowing them, Martin is probably kicking his feet and giggling at whatever Mandy says to care about the dares. But who knows, maybe they’ll surprise us.”

You smiled, your eyes meeting his again. “I guess we’ll find out when I compare footage.”

There was a brief pause, the silence filled with unspoken thoughts. You could tell he was thinking about the kiss, just as you were. Finally, Hamzah broke the silence.

“You know,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “I think I’ll keep some of the footage.”

You giggled, feeling a warmth spread across your face. “Yeah, what part?”

He smiled, a shy but genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat, “I wonder.”

The moment lingered, the atmosphere was comfortable. The sound of a knock on the door broke the spell, and you both laughed, the tension easing as you got up to grab the food.

As you set up the camera and started filming your reactions to the room service, the shared glances and secret smiles continued.

Later that night, after the filming was done and you both had laughed your way through tasteless burgers and overcooked fries, you found yourselves sitting close together on the small bed, the camera off and the lights dim.

“Hamzah,” you began, your voice soft and tentative, “I’ve really enjoyed tonight.“

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting the same emotions you felt. “Me too. I mean, I always enjoy hanging out with you, but tonight was… different.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “Maybe we could, you know, do something like this again. Just us.”

His smile widened, his eyes lighting up. “I’d like that. A lot.”

[hxpel3s5-slxxt]

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

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TW: unprotected sex

A/n: Not all characters will be dated/developing relationships in the first book/season. You may have to wait until the second book/season if you are waiting for a specific character.

X Table Of Contents

Chapter 3: 𝙿𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡'𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚎

《𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝》

"Sung-" Where am I?

"Skimmi-" What time is it? I was supposed to be meeting up with Raedyn and Annaztazja after helping Hanma.

Noticing the soft vibration of my body, I open my eyes to find myself lying in the back of a limo.

"-Kokonoi to call the cleaners."

I noticed that my legs were hanging across Hanma's lap while my head lay in Haitani's lap. In the front seat, the guy from before was still driving, and the one with the pink mullet was the passenger.

While sitting up, a sharp pain causes me to wince and clutch my head.

Hanma's index finger taps my cheek. "Papers."

My head is still foggy from all the pain. "Huh?"

Haitani sucks his teeth. "For fucks sake, the papers I told you to get from the shed." He glares at me through the rear view mirror.

"I literally just woke up. I don't know who you think you're talking to-" Hanma snaps his fingers at me, cutting me off.

"I'm talking to you. Not him. Papers."

Begrudgingly, I take the papers out of my waistband and hand them to Hanma. He briefly looks over the documents before meeting my gaze.

"That's it?" He asks, raising a brow. I nod my head; it looks like he doesn't believe me, but dropped the subject anyway.

The man whose lap my head was lying on speaks up. "Kisaki, take her home. Hanma, the boss wants me, you, and Rindou to make preparations for the—" the man pauses mid-sentence to look at me skeptically. "Meeting. For tomorrow." He finishes.

The driver, Kisaki, makes a detour to my house. Which I am eternally grateful for considering the fact that I need some kind of painkillers for this excruciating headache.

It only took about 30 minutes for us to pull up to my apartment complex. Me and Hanma hop out of the car, and surprisingly, Hanma starts to walk me to my apartment.

Once we reach my apartment, we say our goodbyes, and I step into my apartment. Pulling my phone out of my skirt pocket, I notice that my screen is damn near shattered. To make matters worse, Annaztazja and Raedyn blew up my phone, demanding to know where I was.

We have this system set up in which we would tell each other where we were going, what time we planned on going and arriving, and who would be there just in case something happened to us. Considering the fact that I did none of those things, let alone on a night we were supposed to be spending together, they were more than worried.

I texted them briefly to let them know I was fine and had been occupied assisting a friend. I groan to myself and set my phone down. I'll need to get a new phone, for sure. This is irreparable.

As my migraine worsened by the second, I abandoned the idea of having a shower and stripped down to my underwear instead.

I wanted to abandon the idea that I was a part of a drug and arms exchange. I wanted to abandon the idea that I was possibly responsible for those men dying. I mean, if I hadn't gotten caught, they wouldn't have had to die, right? We could've gone on our merry way, and I would be out drinking with Raedyn and Annaztazja right now.

Sadly, sleep is only a small escape from the large reality I have to face tomorrow.

I wake up to excessive banging on my front door. The little voice told me not to open it due to the fear of it being Haitani, or worse, Hanma.

Begrudgingly, I roll myself out of bed, making sure to grab the knife from under my pillow just in case. After finding out what Hanma has gotten himself into? I want nothing to do with him or his business.

Clutching the knife in my right hand, I slowly approach the door despite the knocking. Looking through the peephole, I find Raedyn and Annaztazja standing outside my door.

Raedyn is 4"10 with beautiful brown skin. Her red passion twists fall over her shoulders, and her dark blue dress hugs her frame. Annaztazja is 4"11 with box braids adorning her head. She wears a tight black dress that accentuates her curves.

I open the door and am bombarded with both hugs and punches. It's hard to tell if they're upset or not when I'm being both lectured and told that they're glad I'm okay.

I blink, "What are y'all doing here?" I question, being tortured by their bone crushing hugs.

Raedyn is the first to pull back. "At first we was like, 'oh, maybe we shouldn't bring her with us, cause she acts like she can't read a message!'"

Ouch.

"But then, we was like, 'nah, let's still take her with us, because this was already a plan.' And blah, blah, blah." She trails off, smiling at me while rolling her eyes and waving her hand in a dismissive manner.

My head swirls with her words and I shake my head. "Okay, but where are we going?"

Annaztazja finally pulls back. "Girl, we literally said we was going out drinking!" She exclaimed as if it was common sense.

I let out a dry groan, still fatigued. "Girl, I'm tire-"

"Okay, let's go get ready!" Annaztazja cuts me off and grabs my wrist, marching to my room. "I don't know why you have that knife, but just know that if you cut me, I'm gon' beat 'cho ass." She says, looking down at the knife with raised eyebrows.

"But yeah, my boss said he's gonna have to cut our pay." Annaztazja sighs while sipping a margarita. I could barely hear her over the loud music at Club Andersons. Despite being a small club, the beverages were delicious. "What? Why?" I question.

Annaztazja shrugged. "It's just a rumor, but everyone at my job believes that another industry cut connections with my company. Now there is less income, and so on." She waves her hand in a bored fashion.

Raedyn beams: "Same here!" We turn and face her. "I believe small firms are beginning to make less income. I'm going to quit my job at the café. They're pushing to bring down my salary far too low."

I feel a hand on my upper back. "I doubt you need to be concerned, though. Gynja is a fairly big firm, right?" Annaztazja reassures me by patting my back.

I give a weary smile. "Yeah, but that still sucks for you. You'll have to look for other jobs."

Raedyn snapped her fingers. "Phoenix trades! That company that operates the docks! I believe that's the name of the building that has been cutting off small businesses."

Annaztazja scoffed. "Their loss. I might understand if they became cocky as the money rolled in, but the more ties, the better."

I place my hand on my chin. "Hmm, not really. Most businesspeople are competitive. They wouldn't like it if Phoenix made deals with a rival company. You might as well cut off the one you know isn't going to benefit you."

"Okayy, businesswoman!" Raedyn shakes me by the shoulders. I laugh.

"Then again, we're all just assuming this is true. Phoenix Trades' owner may have just been forced out of business."

Annaztazja's loud groan interrupts the rest of the discussion. "What's the point of going out if all we're gonna talk about is our jobs?!" She shoves a drink into my hand.

I shook my head. "You know I don't drink."

A tap on my shoulder draws me away from my friends. I turn around and come face to face with Baji. "Jiji!" I beam and pull him into a close hug. He hugs me back, albeit briefly.

"Where have you been? You haven't texted me, Chifuyu, or Kazutora since that small argument!" He proceeds to lecture me, analyzing my face.

I pull his hands away from me. "I've been busy. I have yet to had time to text Annaztazja or Raedyn." I spoke softly, brushing my thumbs across his knuckles.

He exhales calmly. "As long as everything's okay." I turn to look at Annaztazja and Raedyn.

"Actually.." I turn to face Baji, who is immediately looking worried. "Do you know someone who'll let them crash at their place?"

Annaztazja and Raedyn burst with objections. I get that I am in the wrong for airing out their dirty laundry like that, but a chance had to be taken.

Baji thinks for a moment. "Yeah, actually. There's this chick I'm staying with. I'm sure she won't mind, but I'll ask just in case." A smile makes way to my face.

"Thanks, Kazu! If she says yes, let her know it's only until they find new jobs." I'm more than positive the rent at their apartment is going to kick their ass in the meantime.

"Yeah, of course!" His smile is blindingly sweet. "Should we go dance?" He motions towards the center of the club, simultaneously dragging me towards the sweaty, drunken crowd.

Normally, I would be against such a predicament, but as Annaztazja said, what's the point of going out if all we're thinking about is being adults?

Thinking was proven fruitless as Baji's tongue traced down my neck. My nails claw down his back, and our bodies meet the mattress. Baji trailed kisses down to my breasts, his teeth grazing over my right nipple. I push his shoulders, motioning for him to lie down. I take his cock in my hands and straddle him. Baji's hands find their way to my knees, rubbing soft circles on them. I press my finger down onto the head of his dick, using his precum as lube. I bend down and lick from his balls to the tip, forcing Baji to let out a guttural moan.

I bring my head up a bit, letting my saliva drip off of my tongue and onto his member. Lowering my head to the tip of his cock, I gently suck on the head. Baji grunted impatiently. I raise my head with a smile, jerking him off with my hand instead.

I arch my back in a taunting manner, but Baji seems either unimpressed or aggravated judging by the scoff he let out. Sitting up, Baji runs his right hand through my tresses, grabbing at my roots. Baji arches into my mouth, his seed flooding into my mouth. I gag, causing cum to leak from my mouth.

Baji untangles his hand from my hair, picking me up and throwing me on the bed.

"Don't run from me. Understand?" Baji asks, stroking his cock.

I can't utter a response as I feel his cock enter me, hitting my G-spot. My eyes roll back, and my hand flies to cover my mouth. Baji's dick hits unreachable angles inside me. His right hand grabs at my chin, a silent command to uncover my mouth. His thumb attacks my clit, and I lose it. My hands grip the sheets, moans and squeals escape from my mouth, my thighs squeeze together, yet it does not stop Baji's merciless pace.

I feel Baji bite my thigh, and my orgasm floods through me, squirting onto his abdomen.

"Fuuuuck, yeaaaa" he drags. His fingers never stop their rapid rubbing despite my juices coating him.

"Theeeere you go, mama.." He slurs, "yeayeayeayea." He mumbles into the crook of my neck, his fingers finally leaving my clit, settling on my tongue instead.

I fervently suck my juices off his fingers, my eyes rolling back from the taste. Baji chuckles lightheartedly, removing his fingers from my mouth. He lifts me bridal style, bringing me to the bathroom. The smell of wet wood fills my nose as I doze off in the bathtub.

Despite spending the night with Baji, I wake up in my own bed. In my own house. Alone. I'm not sure what I expected.

No, actually, I do. But I can't really expect men to live up to my expectations, now can I?

Constant ringing from my phone drives me away from my disappointment. Even if it's only for a few minutes. I'll even take a few seconds. Turning my phone over, I look to see that the person calling me is Hanma. The average person would decline a call from someone who put them in a near death-situation. But I felt like I needed an explanation.

"Hello?"

He says my name in a singsong voice, "Party too hard? Ya sound like shit."

I groan, my finger hovering over the red button, "Go fuck yourself, Hanma-"

"Right, right. We'll get to your pissy attitude later. What I need you to do is hop your angry ass in that shower and put on somethin' nice, yea?" I hear a chair creak on his end, likely from leaning back.

"No. What I need you to do is—" A loud laugh from Hanma interrupts me.

"My bad, that must've sounded like a suggestion. What you are going to do is get your ass dressed—shower or no shower—and meet Ran downstairs at exactly 9:45."

This time his voice was stern. It left no room for negotiation. Even if I did plan on negotiating, Hanma continued.

"I don't care what plans you thought you had, but you can go ahead and cancel 'em. You wanna be helpful, right? Doin' me favors 'n shit. Do me another by listenin'."

I take in a deep breath. Mainly to prevent myself from cussing him out. Which would likely end in my death.

"That "favor" you had me run," The word "favor" dripping with sarcasm, "Was a one-time thing. You and I both know I had no idea what I was getting myself into. So whatever little plan you've thought up this time, I don't wanna be a part of it anymore."

Hanma busts out laughing. Frankly, I didn't see shit funny.

"Oh, you think I'm the one coming up with these missions, huh? Trust me, I would've done it myself, but I thought you'd be less obvious. I was wrong." He sighs dramatically.

"Even if you're not the one thinking up these stupid ass plans, you were told to find someone who fit the role. And you chose me. Surprise!" I throw my arms in the air, despite him not being able to see me.

Hanma lets out a long groan, likely pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll tell you what. You wanna get out of this mess? It just so happens that the thing I've been telling you to get ready for is a meeting."

Just as I open my mouth, he continues.

"A meeting with whom, you ask? My boss. The one who thinks of the so called 'stupid ass plans', I believe you called them?"

He must've found my stunned silence amusing, because he would not hang up the damn phone.

"So, like I said, get your ass up and ready."

[infiniteeight8]

I am SO excited about the enemies-to-lovers you've got going on! I'd love to see some more of that!

I am glad you asked for this one, because I have an arc all planned out now. 😀 There are at least four more ficlets to tie it up, but I suspect five or six would be better.

The rest of the series is here.

-

Given that he’s the leader of the wizards and undoubtedly has other responsibilities, Strange spends what Tony suspects is an unreasonable amount of time with him in the new lab the Sanctum has created. He’s not sure if he should be happy about that, because he’s taking Strange away from work that might oppose the Avengers, or concerned, because Strange leads a whole order of sorcerers and his interest in keeping Tony around won’t necessarily hold up against all of them if they get annoyed about it. Mostly, Tony tries not to think about it.

He’s not thinking about a lot of things.

And of course the best way to not think about anything is to get very distracted thinking about something else. Trying to design instruments to detect a type of energy that science has never recorded before works beautifully. Well, it works as long as he’s got Strange there, casting spells for Tony to test his experimental designs on. When Strange is called away his mystical duties, all Tony has to go off of is theory.

He’s spinning himself slowly on a stool and contemplating his observations of Strange’s magic when someone knocks on the lab door. It’s not Strange, he’d just left. “Come in,” Tony calls out warily.

The door opens to reveal a woman, mid-thirties, dark hair and eyes. She’s holding a small wooden box. “My name is Master Sangita Rayamajhi. Doctor Strange said I could work with you if you agreed.”

Tony’s eyebrows fly up. He’d thought Strange wanted to keep Tony to himself. Or maybe the other sorcerers were avoiding him; Tony has hardly seen any of them despite living in the Sanctum. “Work on what?”

“Re-creating relics,” Sangita says. “No living member of the Order has created a relic. The knowledge has been lost. I have been working for a decade to rediscover it. Doctor Strange says that you’re trying to understand our magic. Our work seems complementary.”

“You’re not afraid of what I could learn and take back to the Avengers?” Tony asks.

“If we can re-create even a single relic, it would be worth any amount of information you took to them,” Sangita says firmly.

Tony nods, but doesn’t wave her inside yet. “I thought maybe the other wizards didn’t approve of Strange’s interest in me.” Sangita says nothing, and eventually Tony adds, “Will your colleagues be upset that you’re working with me?”

She relaxes slightly. “Not at all. Most people are very pleased that you’re here. Doctor Strange is much happier. It was frustrating when we thought it was an impossible relationship, but now it doesn’t seem so impossible. We thought that you might not be comfortable talking to us, and we didn’t want to risk driving you away. But you like to work, and this is work.”

Tony finds himself smiling a little, bemused at the thought of the dangerous Masters of the Mystic Arts tip-toeing around lest they upset Strange’s crush. When was the last time the Avengers gave a second thought to whether something would upset him? 

“Come on in,” Tony says, waving her towards the stool that Strange uses when they’re working together. 

Sangita crosses the space briskly and sets the box down on the table. “These,” she says, opening it, “are sending stones. They transmit voices. I thought a relic that served the same purpose as a known technology would be a logical place to start.”

“It’s an excellent place to start,” Tony says, dismissing his notes and opening a new document. “Demonstrate them for me.”

[witch-hazels-musings]

favorite distraction 

warning: sfw, fluff, spice - character perspective - pining 

includes: Alhaitham (pre-relationship), Childe, Diluc, Thoma

character x gn reader | anthology 

Alhaitham

Alhaitham pinched the hairs on his eyebrow while he read the book sprawled on his desk. The words enticing him into deep thought even as he turned page after page. Every once in a while he’d come across a passage that made him roll his eyes but he never followed through with the action - it was more of a ‘in his head’ type of response. One that also reminded him to unclench his jaw. 

A flicker of light drew his attention. It started with curiosity but quickly spiraled into a focused observation as every synapse in his brain fired while looking at you. 

You weren’t doing anything spectacular. Mostly you were organizing a stack of documents he planned on dealing with later. It wouldn’t have taken him very long after all but he also found no reason to stop you if it saved him from doing work down the line. 

Surprisingly you never complained. If you did it wasn’t to his face. Or, at least, he thought so - to be honest there were a few times he disassociated when you talked to him. It wasn’t necessarily because what you were telling him was boring, it was more like it set off a chain-reaction in his head that he had to follow to its conclusion. 

He could note several occasions where you set off his brain - one of them being now. 

Your body language for-warned him you were about to turn his way so he dropped his gaze to his book. 

“Alhaitham?” He placed his hand on the page and looked up at you. His expression remained unaffected but the rest of him didn’t. His lungs breathed you in, his fingers twitched at how close you were. He wasn’t a man of many wants, preferred the simple things. A relationship was none of those - he didn’t need it. “I’m sorry but,” you pushed a form his way, the pages were sealed together but you’d turned to one in the stack and pointed at the bottom, “You forgot to sign this one.” 

He leaned toward the document, his hair brushing over your arm making you pull it back quickly. “Oh.”

“Let me know when you’ve finished.” You mumbled before rushing back to the stack of papers. Alhaitham was painfully aware of the way people looked at him, talked to him or about him, scoffed at his decisions no matter the kind. He wasn’t oblivious to their reactions, just indifferent to them. Why should he care - people should focus on themselves and not the lives of others. 

But --

Grabbing a pen, he signed the document and verified there wasn’t another one missing. He considered letting you check back in to find it was finished but, instead, he rose from his chair, placed the book he was reading upside down to not lose his place, and made his way toward you. 

“Here,” he called to you when he was close enough, his hand resting on the table. You were surprised to see him. Didn’t you just say to let you know when he was finished?

“T-Thank you,” you stumbled over your words as you took the document and placed it in the pile. He noticed you stealing several glances his way while you worked. “Um - did you need anything else?” You asked and, honestly, he didn’t know what to say to that. 

“No,” he answered which should have been the end to it ... 

But -- 

“You’re distracting.” He blurted out with an empty expression. Eyes locked on your face, taking in everything you did. 

Panicked, you looked at him, “I’m - oh - I’m sorry. I can leave?” He didn’t respond, so you did, “Yeah, right, I’ll leave. So sorry,” It was like watching a bird desperately try to grab all the twigs from the forest floor before fluttering away to their nest. He thought about helping but ultimately didn’t. 

“Alhaithaaaam,” a familiar voice broke his fixation on you. The blond burst through the door to his office so loudly it made you jump and back up into him. “Hey, I forgot my -- oh, hello, y/n,” Kaveh smiled and waved at you but all Alhaitham could focus on was the feeling of your arm against his palm and how warm you felt. 

“H-hello ... bye,” you said in one fluid sentence before dipping out the door and disappearing all together. 

Kaveh made his way toward the table, his head swiveling multiple times as if he were processing what had just happened as slowly as a turtle crawls. It took Alhaitham two tries to answer whatever question was thrown his way. 

“What did you say?” 

“My keys? Do you have them?” Kaveh asked and raised his brow. “Are you okay? You look ... odd ...” 

“I’m fine,” he huffed and turned to head toward his desk. 

“Okay ... well did you say anything mean to y/n? They looked odd too -” 

“You’re distracting.” 

“Huh? What did I do?” 

“No, I told them, ‘you’re distracting.’“ 

“Oh.” ... “OH!” Kaveh shoved the scholars shoulder before snatching his keys, “That’s so rude! Why would you say that?” 

“Why? It’s the truth.” 

“You can’t just tell people they're bothering you like that -” 

“I didn’t say, ‘bothering me,’ I said, ‘distracting.’” 

“I don’t hear a difference.” Kaveh crossed his arms and furrowed his brows at him. 

“How’s this then,” Alhaitham spun on his heels and returned to his chair. He lifted his book and found the spot he’d stopped at moments ago, “you’re annoying.” 

“That’s worse!” Kaveh shouted while Alhaitham started to read. It took longer than he thought it would for it to click, “Wait - was that directed at me?!” When Alhaitham didn’t respond, he threw his hands in the air and stormed off, “Whatever, just be nicer to people. And stop taking my keys!” 

The room fell silent again until he was left completely alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t understand why his honesty would come across as rude. 

You were distracting; then and now. 

You were so distracting that it took more and more of his energy to think about anything but you. 

--

Childe

“Do you have to go right now?” You asked and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. There was a small clock on your bedside but with how dark it was there was no way you’d figure out the time. “How’d they even call you this late?” 

“It’s a secret,” Childe said, grabbing the clock in your hands and placing it facedown on the wooden end-table. “Go back to sleep,” he kissed your forehead and pulled at the sheets that had fallen to your waist. The cool air caused goosebumps to rise on his back, he could only imagine what it did to you. 

“But I want to see you off. I’ll grab my --” Childe cut you off with a lingering kiss. His hand cupped the back of your head as he guided you onto the pillow still warm from when you were asleep. The silken sheets made it easy for him to leave you there even if it was difficult for his will to do so. 

“Back to sleep,” he repeated, his lips passing over yours as he spoke. The sensation drove him mad. He gripped the bedsheet to stay calm. 

“Not fair,” you breathed and he stole another kiss from you. 

“I won’t be gone long.” You nodded, he couldn’t really see you but he felt your nose run next to his, brush against his cheek. “Sleep,” he demanded and pecked your nose with a quick kiss before prying himself away from you. 

Gathering his things, he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door so he couldn’t disturb you. He caught his reflection in the mirror and lingered on several scars that lined his chest. A long gash that put him in a healing ward for nearly two weeks, another wound that kept him from using his delusion for a whole month. Though it wouldn’t have been that long if he’d listened to Dottore. Lifting his arm, he looked at another scar that he’d received from places he conjured in his nightmares. 

Clenching his jaw, he turned on the water and splashed his face with the cool liquid before throwing on his shirt. 

Childe was annoyed he had to leave so abruptly. He swore he’d smash his fist into the face of whoever called him away. He had his suspicions, only a small handful of Harbingers would be brave enough to request him in the middle of the night, and even fewer brave enough to enter the one place he forbade anyone else from ever stepping foot in.

Call upon him wherever, whenever, but don’t ever do it near you. 

When Childe finished putting his clothes on, he left the bathroom to grab his bag and pack away the other items he’d need for the expedition. Whatever it was it better be over quick. 

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he made his way to the door but not before glancing back at the bed, not before breathing through his straining heart at the sight of you asleep and bathed in moonlight. 

He was so weak. 

The bag slipped off his shoulder, fell down his arm and dropped quietly on the floor. He walked toward your side of the bed and looked down at your face. His hand felt magnified to you. It moved on its own to caress your cheek, hovered, trembled above you out of fear of waking you up. Out of fear of seeing your eyes look at him. Of your smile. Of the sound of your voice calling his name. 

If you asked it of him, he run to you without question. 

Kneeling, he watched you for a moment. Took you in. Reveled in the sight of you and became jealous of the moon. He dropped his head and took in a breath. 

“You’re distracting,” he professed, his hand rubbing his chin, covering his smirk and clenching jaw. Childe rose up just enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, “So damn distracting,” he whispered and watched how you moved beneath him. 

Tearing himself away, he picked up his bag and exited the room. Careful not to slam the door too loud in his irritation. 

The Fatui always talked about how Scaramouche had a sour look on his face, but they’d never seen his after being torn from the bed of his lover and favorite distraction. 

--

Diluc

He meandered through the halls of the Winery, eyes locked on the papers folded in his hand. He had a habit of tucking them behind themselves so he could hold onto them more comfortably. So he could keep his left hand free to sign a form or sniff a cup of just brewed wine. It felt like he’d only made it a few steps before someone else pulled his attention away.

“Excuse me, Master Diluc,” an attendant called to him with a sharp bow. He hated when they addressed him as such, but he stopped trying to fix it long ago. “The equipment you ordered arrived, what would you like us to do with it?” Diluc looked past the attendant toward the front door even though he had no view of outside from this angle. 

“Nothing is missing?” They shook their head, “Alright,” he turned back toward the cellar, “instruct Earnest to set it up in the back corner of the cellar. It should be clear as of yesterday.” 

“Yes sir,” they bowed.

“This new processing method is reserved for our non-alcoholic beverages. Do remind them when you see them,” they bowed again before passing him while Diluc returned to the papers in his grip. He lagged for a moment as he tried to find his place until catching his stride and moving down the hall toward the stairs. 

He drew closer to the study but before he passed through the door, a familiar laugh drifted toward him, stopping him in his tracks. Diluc glanced down the hall seeing only a sliver of light stretching across the ornate rug that had been there since before he was born. No other sound followed so he continued through the door as planned. 

A few moments later, he exited the study to investigate the source of the heart-straining laughter. 

Pushing the door to the bedroom open, he saw you laying across the bed. Your feet kicking in the air, hands holding a book which held your attention.  You laughed again, pressed the pages to your face with a lovely smile before pulling back and turning the page.  Diluc swore he wasn’t a jealous man but oh how he wished to be that book.

It took only a few strides to reach you, and a few less for you to finally look at him. 

“Hello, Handsome,” you hummed. 

He cleared his throat, “Hello.” His cheeks warmed at the nickname you gave him. Of all the things to say -- 

“Whatcha doing?” Lifting onto your knees, you ett him face to face. Closing your book over your fingers, you tapped his chest when he took a step closer to you.

“I might ask you the same thing,” he answered eyeing your book. 

“I figured I’d take a break. Wanna join me?” You inched toward him. His body reacted strongly to feeling of your weight against him as you slid your arms over his shoulder, falling into his chest. 

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes to avoid looking at your smile, “I cannot. There are still a few things --” 

“Boo -” you pouted, pulling away from him as you deflated. His hands held your waist so you couldn’t get very far. When they got there he wasn’t sure but they felt so right he didn’t question it. “Okay.” 

Diluc hated seeing you unhappy but he was terrible and finding the right balance. 

“Will you have dinner with me then?” 

He thought it was a silly question. The two of you always had dinner when he wasn’t otherwise incapable of it. With a smile, he told you his intentions, “Yes.” 

“Yay!” With that you were back in a state that made him swoon. He adored your smile more than anyone could. “I won’t hold you then,” you explained but not before you leaned in to kiss him. 

Dangerous --- 

It shouldn’t have distorted him so badly. He’d kissed you plenty of times before this - when one of you left the Winery grounds, when you’d both be too busy to see much of the other, in passing as if to tell the other, ‘hello, i’m thinking of you.’ They were simple but he cherished every one. This one, however, settled in his stomach to intensely. Before you could slip away from him, he pulled you back for another. 

and another. 

and another. 

Until you were laying on your back and his hands pressed into the well-made bed. He pulled back to take you in. How heavily you caught your breath, how tenderly your fingers pressed against his chest or rested against his stubbled chin. He kissed your fingers and you sang at the touch.

He said your name making you shiver at the sound, “Have I told you that you’re ... distracting ...” he breathed over your lips, gaze growing heavy as he looked down at you. 

Your voice had changed in such a beautiful way, “Good distracting or bad--?” 

“Not sure yet,” he answered as his lips connected with yours for a long, lingering kiss of many. 

--

Thoma

Thoma rolled onto his side. The warm sheets sliding across his skin while the sounds of birds and even earlier risers than him spilled through the open windows. He took in a deep breath, catching a whiff of familiarity and comfort. 

Something passed over his side and, before he knew it, that familiarity was pressing against his back. 

Thoma chuckled, “Morning.” He kept his voice low so as to not be so jarring. The only response he got was a unhappy groan. Slowly, he ran his hands over the arm pressed against him, across the palm of the hand that opened to greet him. He caressed the skin and his back grew warmer. “I have to get up,” he said, albeit reluctantly. 

“Mmm, no,” you mumbled, capturing his index finger in your grip. 

“Haha, come on -” He tried to pull his hand away but you held strong; stronger than anyone should be for just waking up. “Okay - okay, a little longer.” He submitted and you relaxed against him. 

Thoma closed his eyes but didn’t fall back asleep. Instead, he listened to the sound of footsteps in the polished hallway, heard whispers of attendants going about their morning, careful not to wake their neighbors up. The Kamisato Estate was more accommodating than people expected, even the staff quarters were more lavish than some of the hostels and homes speckling the island. Thoma wasn’t raised here, but he grew up here. It was like a home to him but you were changing that feeling every day. 

He didn’t just work hard for himself, he worked hard for those he cared about. Prying himself from your arms every morning took a little piece of him, he wanted to give you a good life. One outside of the walls of his employer. 

So, even though you had managed to slip another arm around him. This one under his head. He had to part ways. 

“Okay, time to --” Thoma was captured by you as you launched yourself up and hovered over him. One hand pressing into the bed near his face while the other landed at the back of his neck. He moved to his back and looked into your determined face. 

“I’m not ready for you to leave yet,” you explained, lips dragging down into a frown. Even when you scrunched your face up, even when your hair stuck out at all ends he thought you were one of the most enchanting beings he’d ever seen. 

Maneuvering his hand between the sheets and your limbs, he touched your forehead and let his hands run across your hair. “When will you be ready?” He asked, knowing no amount of time would be reasonable enough for you. Be it a few minutes, an hour, several days, if you could steal all his time you’d do it - and he was so very tempted to let you. 

If only you knew how often you filled his mind. How frequently he found himself thinking of you, looking for you, hoping for your well-being. He thought that after you agreed to be his, after you swore you’d be by his side that his passions for you would stabilize but that - he found - was not the case. 

“I’m never ready,” you answered. 

“I know,” he replied, cupping your face and pulling you to him. He kissed your lips gently, moved to your nose where he gave you another, turned your head without resistance to pepper the space below your eyes with more of his love. When he finished, your arms were shaking so he helped you fall to your side. 

“Thoma -” 

“Mmm?” He asked as he followed after you, his nose pushing against your jaw so he could kiss the warmth of your neck. 

“Y-your distracted --” 

He slid closer to you, placed his arm over your head so he could block you, wall off your expressions so only he could see. “I guess I am,” Thoma mused, his nose brushing against your own until you looked at him and he sealed your bravery with a kiss. 

--

[pedrostylez]

How The Crow Flies - pt. 7

Javier Peña x fem!reader x Frankie Morales crossover

Word count: 3.8k

Chapter Summary: You stay an extra day in the jungle because your feelings about Frankie are too confusing, Javi is concerned and calls you a lot

Chapter Warnings and Disclaimers: 18+ only. I am not responsible for what you read on the internet. You have been warned! Locations and descriptions of places may be inaccurate in comparison to each story (Narcos and Triple Frontier). Timelines are obviously different between the two stories, so we are going to meet in the middle and say we are in the early 2000s. These are not necessarily canon characters in regard to how they act, how they treat people, and their current relationships. DUBCON mentions and references, SMUT!!!! p in v sex (not wrapped up, but obvs be safe irl), some violence and threatening with knives but maybe it's hot, BLOOD OKAY NOT A LOT AND ONLY A LITTLE FREAKY ABOUT IT, SUE ME. dirty talk, anxiety, feelings that are confusing and not expressed well (reader compartmentalizes she must be a Capricorn)

A/N: Hey ya'll! I don't know NOTHING about Miami; never been, and I don't plan on going, so don't judge me for how I scrolled in reallllllll close on google maps, okay? I did an edit in my document, but within tumblr I didn't so if you see mistakes no you don't. In all seriousness, if I have missed any tags for trigger warnings, please let me know and I will fix it. Thank you for reading!!!

Taglist: @thevoiceinyourheadx @suzdin @survivingandenduring @bariskaplans @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi @paleidiot @darkheartgatita @missladym1981

The trilling ring pierces his ears, irritation growing with each passing second. The click of your voicemail, followed by silence as Javier hopes and waits that you’ve picked up. Javier growls into the speaker when it’s clear that you haven’t, anger clear on his face. “Fucking call me back, or at least answer your damn phone.” He slams his receiver down, sighing heavily. 

You hadn’t called him back or picked up the phone in over a week. He knew it was his fault; how he treated you, how he wouldn’t listen to you. How he was unable to tell you exactly what he was wanting and feeling made him angry all over again. 

And to top it off, Jason was up his ass. “Hey, boss.” Jason called, too cheery to be in his office. “Any word from the jungle?”

“No.” Javier grunted, leaning back in his chair. He had given up on trying to keep what you were doing under wraps from Jason and David. “But she’ll be back tomorrow.”

Jason sits hesitantly in the chair across from him, sliding him a coffee cup. “Based on her most recent information, I think we have enough to go in there.” He says, taking a sip from his own mug. “She’s confirmed there’s drugs out there, and that there is money in and out. We don’t have to know where the money is to–”

“Let’s see what she comes back with this time.” Peña says, popping the top of the disposable coffee cup off to let it cool down. “It’ll be soon though, I don’t want…I don’t want this leaving the four of us.”

“I know.” Jason sighs, looking behind him. Bill Stechner walks by, just as Jason looks back to Peña with raised eyebrows. “I assume because we don’t want him to know?”

Peña rolls his eyes, shooing Jason away. Jason of course was correct, Stechner was in fact the reason you were secretly in the jungle and not surveying the Cali Cartel. But Javier wanted to stand by his promise to keep you safe, and so he would. 

Your cellphone beeps on the table, Peña’s name scrolling across the screen and flashing for what feels like the millionth time. You roll your eyes, legs shaking under the kitchen table of Yovanna’s crash house.

It’s your last night in this place, and while you won’t miss it, it makes you sad to see all of your stuff fit into one bag. You know you’ll have to do the same to the apartment that Peña had set up for you, but the jungle feels like a completely different world from what you go back to every other weekend. 

You feel a pang in your chest at the thought that Frankie may not show up, and that you’ve wasted your time just to spend one more night with him. Peña will be more furious than he already is and you’ve risked blowing your cover.

It’s easy to convince yourself that you are stringing Frankie along to gather more information’ it’s the easiest excuse for when Peña ultimately berates you. Something in the back of your mind nags you that it isn’t just for more information; that you are having feelings. 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when your phone begins beeping again and a knock comes to the door. You shoot up out of your seat, silencing your phone and sliding it into your pocket before taking a deep breath and waiting. 

A knock comes again, and you race to the door, opening it to find Frankie leaning against the porch post opposite the door. He smirks, looking down at your body and back up again. “Changed your mind?” He drawls, arms crossed over his chest.

You shrug, turning to let him through the door. “Figured another day wouldn’t hurt.” He chuckles, boots heavy as he steps forward. 

When Frankie steps past, you smell something different–the cigarettes, the jungle seem to be no longer lingering on his skin. The smell of musk fills your senses, and your insides melt at the thought that he put on cologne for you. 

Frankie eyes your packed bags, looking back at you with his ears red. “Ready to bail though, I see.”

You nod, giving a half smile. “Yovanna said that the lease is up and that she’s not renewing so…sort of my last night close to the jungle.”

Frankie hums, looking around briefly before turning back to you. “You want to make it count?”

You can’t help the smile that creeps up your face, shutting the door behind you and leaning against it. “What did you have in mind?”

The look on Frankie’s face changes, determined as he steps toward you. His hands rest on your hips, gently pulling you away from the door and into his body. He’s warm, heat radiating from his skin and through his clothes to you. 

You sigh, hands naturally traveling up to his shoulders to support yourself. Their taunt, pulled tight in his shirt and you think that maybe he’s…nervous. 

Frankie turns with you in his arms, smirking when you gasp in surprise. “Thought I might bend you over the couch. Maybe…eat you out on the counter for breakfast.” His voice is low and trying to be intimidating, but you swear you hear it wobble with unease. 

“You want me all to yourself all night long, huh? What if I had other customers?” You tease, pushing him away enough to reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. 

His eyes widen, pupils blown and mouth agape. “No need to lie; you’re not a whore.”

“Who says?” You question, reaching behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. He steps forward, stopping you in your tracks and runs his fingers up your spine. His fingers tangle with yours, popping the clasp open. 

“Me.” He sighs, letting the bra fall to the floor between you. He ghosts his hands to your front, pinching gently and watching you. “Tell me.”

“I’m not a whore.” Falls out of your mouth, unable to stop yourself from admitting the truth. His fingers glide down your abdomen, slowly undoing the button of your pants. 

He chuckles, shaking his head and smiling at you. Frankie’s eyes bore into you, keeping you frozen as his hand covers the front of your panties. He groans when the heat radiates from you to his palm, his fingers twitching. “No, but you’re my whore, aren’t you?”

You find yourself nodding, mouth open to breath deeper. “Yeah.”

“Say it.” He bites out, holding you secure and still in his grasp. 

Before you can speak he has you turning around, pushing you against the closest wall and grinding his center against yours. Still buttoned up pants restrain him, his cock hard and pushing against the fabric. 

It’s embarrassing, the way your underwear sticks uncomfortably to your center as he grinds. He’s quick as he pushes down his pants enough to let himself spring free, grasping himself to stroke just a couple times before leaning forward to let his mouth wander. 

Down your spine Frankie trails wet lips, hot air puffing out onto your raised skin. He’s quick as he strips your underwear from you, biting briefly into the meat of your ass to hear you gasp before sinking himself into you. You close your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins at the feeling of him fully seated inside you. It’s a whisper, barely audible as you say. “I’m your whore.”

Frankie doesn’t stop, thrusting harder and laughing. His hand planted on your hip comes up to your face, gently pushing it away from your cheek to get a better look at you. “That’s right baby. My whore.”

Agent Peña calling

The flash on the tiny screen of your cell phone is bright in the dark room that Frankie lays in, waking him enough to glance over to your spot in the bed to see you’re not there. 

Agent  Peña calling

This time he picks up the vibrating device, furrowing his brow at the name and racking his brain to see if Santiago had said it before. He does not know this man, but you do. 

Agent Peña calling

The shower is running, and Frankie doesn’t know what time it is but he’s itching to pick up the damn phone. Why would an agent be calling you? How many clients–

Frankie’s blood runs hot as the phone finally stops and he’s able to open it up into the most recent calls.

Agent Peña incoming

Agent Peña incoming

Agent Peña incoming

Agent Peña incoming

Agent  Peña outgoing

Agent  Peña incoming

Agent Peña incoming

The one outgoing call from just a couple weeks ago stands out to him. The date makes him think of when he brought you to the motel for the first time. Frankie reads it once, twice, three times before he sets the phone back down in the same position he found it in, sitting up to reach for his jeans on the ground. 

He shakes as he pulls his switchblade out; cold in his hand, the click of the blade flipping out and stepping out of your bed. He moves silently into the dark corner behind the bathroom door, adrenaline pumping through him. The shower shuts off, your soft hum as you move around the bathroom filters through the door before it opens, you tiptoeing your way out; you probably think he is asleep. 

Frankie thinks that maybe this is a mistake, but his gut is telling him otherwise. Either he scares you and never sees you again, or he finds out the truth; right now. 

When you step out fully he surprises you, circling one arm around your middle and the other holding the knife to your neck. He hears your inhale, feels you stiffen in his grasp, but you don’t scream. 

“What the fuck do you do for a job?” He growls in your ear, pulling you tight to him to prove that you can’t escape. You won’t. 

“I fuck men for a living, Frankie. You know that.” You’re too calm, too monotone for his liking. 

“Fuck that.” He spits, spinning you around and bringing the knife into your vision. “We both know that you’re not a whore, and I’ve let you play your little games to get my dick sucked. So tell me, who is Agent Peña?”

He watches your eyes jump back and forth from his knife to his face, trying to remain neutral but looking for options; you’re too calm. 

“Tell me right now, or I’ll let you bleed out and have him find you here.” Frankie says darkly, pressing the blade into your naked collarbone. You wince, a drop of blood dripping down. 

“He doesn’t know where here is.” You’re caving, towel loose under your arms and ready to fall. Frankie watches you reach up to hold it secure, your fingers nervously adjusting. “I’m DEA.” You whisper, swallowing as the blood drips down your chest, between your breasts and into the towel. Frankie watches it drip, slow and methodical but you don’t seem to notice. 

Frankie waits, but when you don’t come forward with more information, he prompts you. “Who’s Agent Peña?”

“My boss.” He presses the knife further into your skin, stepping toward the bed so you are forced to sit in front of him. Perched on the bed, clutching the towel to your front, looking up at him defiantly with blood smeared on your chest. You wince at the bite of the blade, sighing heavily. “Fuck–we’re after Lorea, okay?”

“Prove to me that you’re telling me the truth.” He pushes, moving the knife lower. You glance down to where the tip of the blade rests just below your collarbone, swallowing roughly. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath into what he assumes is calming yourself. 

He can’t help but feel angry. Frankie rages inside at himself for not knowing better, not connecting the dots. Not telling Santiago so he could look into you further than what Yovanna had convinced him of. 

In a way he feels played, that itch to have you growing inside of him into one of disgust. Frankie knows that this can’t last now; it was different if you were doing a job and got caught up in his circle, but to focus your attention on what he wanted? To go after what he was after too? He lied to you too, but your lie feels more and more like a betrayal. 

“I don’t have my badge here.” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, looking down to see that he’s drawn more blood, prompting your response. He pulls away slightly, looking up to your face. You tell him your name, voice shaking and he realizes, terrified. “I worked in Miami for a few years, b-before I was reassigned to Colombia. I s-stopped most of the boats coming into the harbor.”

Frankie mulls over the information, brushing the knife away from your collarbone and down your arm. A chill runs over you, obvious to him in the dark. “Where did you live, in Miami?”

“Little Havana.” You gasp, looking up at him and trying to harden your features. Your hand tightens around the edge of the towel again, but Frankie doesn’t want that. 

He leans forward, tisking at you and pulling your hand away. The towel follows, leaving you bare in front of him. He can’t help the groan that bubbles out of his throat. “That’s far away from the DEA office in Weston.”

You lean your hands back, letting yourself be exposed to him and staring him down. “Closer to the docks to stop the boats. I didn’t mind the drive.”

He stops his movements, keeping his pocket knife out but looking back up to your eyes. Will’s voice rings in his ears from years ago, a discussion about a DEA agent that patrolled the docks. 

“This girl came down from up north, stopping those dogs in their tracks. They are maybe a few feet away from making their deliveries, I’m telling you!” Beer flows over the side of his cup at Will’s excitement, tapping Frankie on the shoulder. “She calls to them like a fucking siren, that’s what they’re calling her, gets them to admit who they are in 10 minutes flat, and then fucking arrests them. On the spot.”

“That’s badass.” Benny widens his eyes, looking to Frankie to see if he agrees. 

Frankie sips on his drink, shaking his head. “Long trips overseas with just your buddies would have me caving to a pretty girl too.”

“You’re the Siren, aren’t you?” He questions, tilting his head to watch your reaction. The widening of your eyes, the shuttered sigh as you nod, has his heart soften. He flips the knife back into its holster, holding it in his closed fist. “I live in Westwood Lakes.” When you don’t respond, just staring at him and waiting, he pulls away. He hears your sigh, shaking his head. “You could have said–”

“No, I couldn’t have.” You say quietly, blinking roughly as if holding back tears before moving from the bed. When you stand, pushing past him and towel forgotten, you shakily walk over to your disheveled bag in the corner. He waits, knife still in his hand and watching. “You’re fucking ex-military, you know I couldn’t have blown my cover like that.” 

The bite in your tone is new to Frankie, his frown appearing suddenly as he whips his head over to look at you. You’re bent over, ass on display to him and he can’t help how his cock stirs at the sight. “You could have said what you were so we could have helped each other out.” He sighs, tossing the knife on to the pile of his clothes. 

“We did help each other.” You scoff, shaking your head and angrily putting on your shirt. “And you got your dick sucked and I got the information I needed to go tell my boss. Win-win.”

He laughs, surprised by your dismissal. “Why are you angry?”

He can see your face harden and then collapse, tears overflowing and down your cheeks. He notices briefly how your shirt is staining with small amounts of blood. “Because you! You weren’t supposed to fucking know who I was! You went through my phone.”

He shrugs. “It was ringing.”

The initial anger he had felt had dissipated as soon as he learned who you were; it changed everything for him. But somehow, that anger transferred to you at the inability to keep everything under the radar. This see-saw effect between the two of you was addicting for Frankie; one losing control, one calm. Then switch, all within the same conversation. Frankie can’t help but think that this is exactly what you need, to let your anger out on someone, even if it's him.  

His thoughts are confirmed when you spit out, “So what? That fucker has been up my ass for week since I kicked him out–”

“You’re together?”

“No.” You’re firm, pulling pants up your legs and buttoning them more calmly. It’s like you caught yourself losing control. 

“He’s fucking you too?” He questions. Your calmness sets a fire under him, a small voice in the depths of his mind poking him to get angry again. Instead, he focuses on what he thinks is the right question. “Your boss is taking advantage of you?”

“No. I’m taking advantage of him.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest before wincing, looking down at the blood stains left from his knife.

Frankie shakes his head, standing up and approaching you. “No, he’s taking advantage of you.” 

You stare at him, dumbfounded and shaking your head. Frankie reaches for you–out of habit, and you bat his hand away before pointing at him accusatory. “What, like you aren’t? You’re a fucking hypocrite!”

He points right back at you, careful to not touch you but wanting to get his point across. “I told you exactly what I was doing. Has he?”

Quietly, you say, “He’s protecting me.” 

“How? By blowing up your phone so some guy can hold a knife to your neck?” Frankie feels disgusted, learning that Peña is your boss, and is putting you in harm's way. He should know better. “Did any of your bosses back in Miami do something like that before? Put you in a difficult position where you had to give up who you were, just to stay alive?”

You pause, steaming, head barely shaking back and forth as you stare at him. You crack your neck, closing your eyes for a few breaths before opening them for him to see tears streaming down your face again. His heart hurts at the sight. “You’re not…some guy.”

You’re leaning toward him, hand falling toward his chest and resting lightly on his bare skin. Frankie doesn’t know what to say, eyes searching your face for any type of answer. When he doesn’t find one, he shakes his head and covers your hand with his over his heart. “You’re…distracting for me. And you keep secrets.”

He lets his other hand come up to rest on your cheek. You lean in, and Frankie can’t help but let his heart crumble a little more.“I had to. I’m sorry if I ruined what you were trying to accomplish.” You whisper, trailing your hand down his chest, his hand following yours. 

“You didn’t ruin it.” He admits, moving his eyes to your wandering hand. He holds his breath, his cock twitching in his boxers and pressing against the fabric. You’re warm, stepping closer to him and snapping at the waistband of his underwear. Frankie briefly thinks about how this might look to Santiago and the rest of the guys if they find out that he’s been sleeping with you. He’ll be sent home instantly, even with the plan going through in just a day. “You can’t get in my way.”

“I won’t. We want different things.” You nod, letting your hand wrap around his now hardened member and give him a couple strokes. He closes his eyes trying to keep his breath steady. 

Frankie doesn’t know what this means, doesn’t know how to proceed beyond what he’s longing to do right now. He clasps his hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You look up to him, waiting to see if you can continue when he leans in and presses his lips to yours. 

He’s hesitant, waiting for you to tell him to stop. He pulls back, flicking his eyes between yours briefly before you surge forward, desperate to have your mouth back on his. 

Suddenly it’s frantic, his hands ripping at your clothes to take them back off, how you jump onto the bed and pull him to you by the back of his neck. He groans when you pull his hair, you sigh as he sinks into you again. 

The sound of his thighs hitting yours over and over again fills the room. You gasp as he trails his mouth down away from yours, sucking harshly into your neck before going further down. Frankie continues to thrust, his tongue sticking out and lapping at where his knife had cut you. 

“Fuck–Frankie–”

“I know baby. Just one more time for me, huh? I want to see you one more time.” He gasps, leaning back to watch you take him over and over again. 

Your walls tighten around him, nails digging into his arms as he pushes through. Your head thrown back, neck and new hickey exposed, skin shining in the light still coming from the bathroom. 

On the bedside table, your phone lights up again, vibrating loudly enough that both of your heads turn to watch it ring. Frankie pauses for only a moment, returning to thrusting and grabbing your face to turn back to him. “Mine. Do you get it? Mine.”

Your nod and the gasp of a “yes” is all Frankie needs to finish. 

Javier’s blood boils, dialing your number again from his Jeep. He's sitting outside the apartment he paid for, anger roiling through him without another care in the world. Where are you?

He gets out of the car, stepping up on to the stoop and pounding on the door to listen. Maybe you were avoiding him, leaving the lights off and pretending you weren’t there to scare him. He dials another time, the windows dark in front of him, listening for the ringing of your phone. When nothing can be heard, he swears. 

The beep of your voicemail dings in his ear, a sound he has gotten used to tonight. He sighs, looking around as if you might appear out of thin air. “Hermosa, please. Where are you?” He asks, shutting his phone and getting back into his driver’s seat. 

He sets his phone on the dash, tapping on the steering wheel anxiously. After thinking for only a moment, he reclines the seat back, planning to camp in front of your apartment until the morning.

[haphira]

Miraculous Ladybug and the Valiant Annuler By: Haphira

Chapter 42. “Another day, another Akuma”

After a few jumps Ladybug could see a couple different figures converging to the north of her, hurrying up, she ran to catch up with the Akuma.

The battle was already going when Ladybug reached the Akuma, Sionnach and Hachi were watching each other’s back while fighting. Ladybug take a quick look but didn’t see Annuler yet, but she had faith that he was on his way.

“Ladybug! Give your miraculous!” the Akuma shouted. Glaring at her before taking a step back to avoid a hit from Hachi.

Ladybug smiled, “No I don’t think I will. Any luck?” Hachi answered with a negative but Sionnach nodded and made a quick jump to land next to Ladybug.

“It’s in the glasses.” Sionnach whispered. Ladybug nodded and grinned as a plan formed, calling her lucky charm, she spotted Annuler land behind the Akuma going unnoticed. Perfect.

After getting Sionnach back in place Ladybug called out for an all-out attack from every side. They all jumped and brought the Akuma down. Ladybug quickly took the glasses and tossed them to Annuler who destroyed them with a cataclysm.

Ladybug reached out for a team fist bump, having everyone bump in with their fists and smiles on their faces.

“Good work everyone, no get some well-deserved rest.” Ladybug said, looking at each of them in turn, Annuler smiled back with a “Same to you, Bug.” Before everyone dispersed to their homes.

Ladybug turned to Alya’s place to let her know now was the time to post about the new heroes. Reaching Alya’s window, Ladybug knocked and Alya threw it open welcoming her inside. Having arrived back home moments before Ladybug got there.

“Here’s the finished article, tell me what you think?” Alya said when Ladybug landed on her floor. Ladybug took a look at the computer screen and gave a small gasp of delight, a wide smile spread across her face as she looked over the document.

“Alya, this is beautiful. It looks good and it’s well written, thank you!”

Alya blushed a little at the praise before she sat down and posted the article, it was up on the internet now. Almost instantly there were tons of likes and comments on the post. Both Alya and Ladybug stared wide-eyed at each other. Neither had guessed that people would react so quickly.

Comment after comment of support and praise for Ladybug and her new team. Alya felt a twinge of sadness but realized this was where she was meant to be, reporting on the heroes.

Ladybug smiled again, “Looks like you got your work cut out for you, have a good night Alya.”

“Yup, you too, Ladybug! And thank you for giving me a second chance.” Alya spoke softly, hands clutched together as she gazed at the computer screen, a small smile on her face.

Ladybug smiled back and nodded then leapt out the window into the evening sky. Beautiful oranges and pinks with barely-there stars peeking out. Ladybug grinned and made her way back home, just in time for dinner.

Dinner was a warm affair, talking and laughing together, poking fun and big smiles all around the table. Marinette was happy that she and her parents were mending their relationship. She had missed this.

After dinner Marinette got a text from Luka asking if she wanted to come to the Liberty tomorrow night. Marinette hurriedly replied yes and screamed into one of her pillows. Tikki floated near her head with a smile on her face.

“Seems like things are on and up and up for you Marinette, I’m so happy for you.” Tikki said. Marinette lifted her head and smiled at the little goddess.

“Yeah, things are starting to fall in place. Thanks, Tikki, for being by my side.” Marinette responded.

Tikki did a little loop in the air before she settled down on the pillow next to Marinette’s head.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful person, Marinette, there’s no one I would want more as a chosen or a friend.” Tikki said, tapping a flipper on Marinette’s nose. Marinette sighed happily, something settling in her chest.

“Let’s get some rest, Tikki, I want to be prepared for tomorrow.” Marinette spoke softly; eyes already drowsy from the long day.

“Good night, Marinette.” Tikki whispered.

“Good night, Tikki.” She replied drifting off into sleep.  

The next morning found Marinette up and wide awake at a decent hour, fiddling with her hair in front of her vanity. Tikki perched to the side with a small Kwami sized sunhat on.

“What do you think? Half up and half down, or normal pig-tails?” Marinette asked the Kwami. Tikki sat in deliberation for a moment.

“Half up and half down.” The little goddess decided. Marinette nodded and got to work on her hair. Tikki munched on a cookie that she got from her hidden stash, watching Marinette get ready for the day.

Marinette decided on a black ruffle top and light grey jeans with her normal slip-on shoes. Glancing at herself in the mirror she saw Tikki smile and give the Kwami equivalent of a thumbs up.

Seeing as she had a couple hours until her meet up with Luka, Marinette grabbed her sketch book and drawing pencils as she wondered to one of her favorite spots the Trocadero.

Settling down, Marinette got to work, thinking up new ideas for Kitty Section’s newest band outfits, and new ideas for album covers. The few hours Marinette had expended, passed quickly, soon it was time for her meet up with Luka.

Running back home, Marinette hurriedly fixed her hair and called out to her parents where she was going and went off on a brisk walk toward the houseboat.

When she could see the Liberty a few streets away, after she checked her phone to see that she was on time, Marinette let out a soft sigh, “At least I’m not super late, like usual.”

Marinette cursed her luck when she heard the sounds of an Akuma wreaking havoc to the west. Another other after one day, Hawkmoth must be gearing up for something. Dashing to the nearest alley way, she transformed and launched herself to the roof tops, seeing a very destructive Akuma tearing up the streets and smashing buildings. She really had the worst luck.

“I jinxed myself, didn’t I?”

Chapter 43

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34663405/chapters/163749763

[leatafandom]

Homemade

Fandom/Ship: Smallville/Arrowverse/Supergirl - Clex - Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Kara Zor-El/Lena Luthor, Lex Luthor and Kara Zor-El 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 827

Warnings and Tags: bonding, Lex knows Clark is Superman, Lex Knows Kara is Supergirl, Lena knows Kara is Supergirl, Lena knows Clark is Superman DIY gifts, Kryptonian, established relationships

Summary:  Created for the Clexmas Prompts: "You know, I heard that hot chocolate makes everything better.” + Holiday Traditions + Bonus Challenge from @panthemanluca: Use the word: lexical

Author Note: Look, I did it @lucathepanman! xD I kept snickering the whole time as I was writing this. It's so cute and another prompt from @idabbleincrazy Clexmas Event! My little earth 69 just keeps getting flushed out more, I just can't help myself. So it's a mess of corrections and blending between Smallville and Supergirl but for simplicity's sake in this universe Lena has a different mother from Lex and Lex is around 10 years older than Lena. This also means that Clark, on earth, shares the same, about, age gap with his cousin.

Read, Homemade, Rated Teen, in full below or on my Ao3.

*note, this story (and all of my others) on Ao3 is locked for registered Ao3 users.

Homemade

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Lex sighed, looking around his old notes and research before looking towards the Kryptonian lexical device Kara had on her coffee table. 

“No, it's sweet, Lex,” Kara said, looking over the corrections she had made. “Plus Kal needs the help,” she added, clicking through the view screen before adding, "I think a physical lexicon would help him.” 

The older man groaned, sitting back on her sofa. “I didn't think it would take so long,” he sighed his own Kryptonian was basic, enough to get around the fortress without blowing it up but nothing more. “How long do you think my sister can stall your cousin?” He questioned, flipping through the documents Martha had sent him. 

Kara laughed, smiling. “Please, he doesn't stand a chance.” She snorted slightly at Lena's plan for their 'bonding' weekend. “I think Ms. Grant is joining them for lunch today.” 

Lex laughed. “Now I feel bad,” he put his papers down to look at her. 

“It'll be fine.” Kara waved a hand at him, grabbing her chopsticks and take-out carton. “Lena was really looking forward to it. I don't think they've ever spent time together.” 

Lex hummed, thinking about it. “It makes sense, I suppose,” he started. “We don't spend much time together, Lena and I.” Due to their age differences and how much time they all spent apart, none of the Luthor children spent much time together. “Actually,” he looked at the blonde eating beside him. “Until I had the idea to make a physical Kryptonian lexicon for Clark, I don't think I've ever called you.” 

“Yeah,” Kara said as she swallowed, head tilting to the side. “I was surprised you had my number… and then not very surprised,” she added. The Luthor's have always had a way for obtaining information they wanted, reformed or not.

“At any rate,” Lex's smile was sly as he grabbed an egg roll. “I appreciate your help teaching me and helping me put this together before Christmas.” 

“Of course, Lex,” she looked back at his notes. “You got pretty far on your own,” she squinted suspiciously at him, lips swishing from side to side. “But I get the feeling, you really didn't need my help or this,” she said pointing at the projected Kryptonian she was double-checking herself with. 

“No, probably not.” Lex's sly smile crooked up into something smug. “But your help makes it go faster, and Clark won't snoop through your apartment for gifts.” 

“He better not,” she teased, smiling as she finished the last of her food, looking back down at the next section she was working on. 

As she settled back into continue translating, she paused. Despite the thoughtful gift, she wasn't quite sure why the billionaire was spending so much time on a gift instead of buying one. 

“Can I ask, what made you think to make this for Kal?” She asked, looking over her girlfriend's eldest brother. “You guys could buy each other anything, why make something?” 

Lex's smile faded, lips twitching as he looked from her towards the finished pages and the glow of the Kryptonian viewer between them. 

“My mother and I used to always trade homemade gifts,” he started with a drawn out breath. “As opposed to the overpriced and impersonal gifts Lionel preferred.” A sad smile flickered across his face, reaching for the remains of his take-out carton. “Clark and I decided to renew the tradition this year with Martha,” he added, looking back to her saddened expression. “We’re making her a set of clay cookware.”   

“It's good that you’re reclaiming it,” she said, sharing the somber smile. Kara sighed, remembering past holidays with her parents on Krypton and Christmases past with the Danvers. “You know,” she said, sitting up straighter as she thought of her mother. “If we took J’onn’s car out for a spin, we could probably get it bound somewhere on New Krypton and be back before Lena releases him.” 

Lex considered the idea, it would make it more personal than taking it to the book dealer he'd found. “That would be perfect, thank you, Kara,” he said, his smile returning before looking at his empty take out container and the mountain of words, rules, and notes they still had to check through and retype. “Ugh, but first we need to finish all this.” 

Kara blew out a soft breath, nodding as she adjusted her glasses, looking around them. “We can do it,” she said confidently, “but how about,” she stood with a stretch heading towards the kitchen. “Hot chocolate? ‘Cause, you know, I heard that hot chocolate makes everything better.”

Lex smiled at her. “I heard it was especially true with marshmallows,” he added, stretching his own spine. “They can be very motivating.” 

“Aha!” Kara cried, “You are in luck, sir,” she said, pulling a bag of marshmallows out of her cabinet. “Two hot chocolates with a pile of marshmallows for motivation coming right up!”

[tamales78]

Series: Teacher!Slenderman X OC!Reader

Chapter 2

Warning: Teacher X Student relationship, College Teacher &Student, Mention & use of drugs, smut 18+, reader is 21, alcohol use

Summary: Amelia is used to being a straight-A student since middle school. Her English teacher Professor Slender grades her an F after finding out she used AI. How will she be able to keep her good grades? And have the English teacher do her favors?

"YOU DIDN'T!" Jane gasped as Amelia nodded sipping her latte as they sat at the cafe table.

"I damn sure did!"

Jane began laughing making her nearly choke on her blueberry muffin.

"So, you going to Jeff's party?" Nina asks Amelia.

"Maybe. To be honest, I don't know. I don't really want to go, Nina."

"Please!"

"Why do you want to go other than to hook up with a guy who has clearly shown you no interest?" Jane asked Nina.

"Yeah, Nina. Last time, E.J. told me that he was planning on asking a girl out at this so-called party."

"It might be me! Is it?! Is it?! TELL ME!" Nina grabbed Amelia shaking her back and forth.

"I-I don't know!"

"TELL ME!"

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

Amelia trembled at just the sight of her English teacher's door. After yesterday's outburst, she was sure he definitely would make her fail. So with a big gulp, she grew confident and walked in.

The few students that came also gulped and their eyes widened at seeing her. They all watched at her fearing for her.

When Slender walked in with the suitcase in hand they all expected him to call her out, however, they were surprised when he simply began passing out papers after the bell rang.

After he handed a kid a packet, five students walked in calmly with no bother in the world. They were dead. Slender hated-no he despised students who came in. Especially, if it showed that they had no care in the world.

"Why are you five late?" He angrily asked them.

"We were talking to some friends, jeez." One of them rolled their eyes as they walked to their desks.

"Talking? You came in late to my class 'cause you were talking?"

"Uhh, are you deaf?"

Slender chuckled walking to the kids desking and standing in front of him. He slams the packet on his desk jumping the kid.

"You and your four friends are to complete this assessment on paper by tomorrow." He informs the kid before passing his friends with the same packet.

"Oh, and since you decided to be a smart mouth also make sure to write another essay talking about why it's important to respect your peers. This goes to you four as well." Slender glares at them before going to Amelia and handing her a packet.

She expected Slender to ask her to do the same thing but she was astounded when he simply handed her the paper and passed it to the rest of the class.

"The rest of you, you're to simply write me what's in the packet. Based on the notes you guys did yesterday." Slender eyes Amelia making her look down in embarrassment.

"Your prompt is on the document. Articles are already provided for you, however, you're free to use other articles. Start working on your essay, meanwhile, I'll be talking to someone outside. Amelia come with me." Slender announces before heading out with a paper in hand.

Amelia gulps and gets up as she feels everyone's eyes on her. When she exits the class, Slender closes the door behind her and turns back to her.

"You do remember why you're here, right?"

Amelia nods looking down at her teacher in shame. Slender chuckles catching her off-guard and slightly scaring her.

"It humors me how a girl like you who was top of her class seems to be so..."

"So?"

"So, confusing." He chuckles looking down at her.

"My brothers and all your other teachers adore you, yet I somehow can't see it."

"Maybe, 'cause they value my work?"

Slender leans closer handing Amelia the paper. She expected it to be a detention slip, however, she held her breath when she saw the evidence of her grade check.

Her notes from yesterday now had an "A" instead of a "C". Along with the same essay she was doing while talking shit about the man in front of her.

"Maybe, you were right." He chuckled as Amelia looked up at him.

She nearly teared up and Slender could sense it.

"S-Sorry." She sniffed wiping her teary eyes.

"No, i should apologize."

Amelia nodded looking up at him and her teary eyes nearly brought him to his knees. With his hand he wipes the tear away, catching both of them off-guard.

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

"Hey, Nina I won't be able to go." Amelia tells her friend as she walked to the library to start on the essay Slender left her.

"WHAT?! PLEASE! Jane won't go! She says she's busy doing something for her art class with Liu!"

"She so has a crush on him." Amelia teases stopping by her schools coffee stand to get a ice latte.

"Right! I even think they're already hooking up!"

"Why do you think that?"

"So, the other day she told me she was gonna go to yours, however, after you told me how you were studying for Splendor's class, that's when L.J told me he saw her exit Liu's room!"

"$4.99." The barista tells Amelia.

She nods listening to the rest of the gossip, however, before she can hand him the money a familiar hand gives the barista a 20-dollar bill.

"Make sure to get me the same thing but warm, I'll pay for hers," Slender tells the barista as he turns to Amelia who accidentally focuses on him instead of Nina.

"T-Thank you, profe-"

"Just call me Slender." He smiles at Amelia as the barista hands him his change.

"So, where are you heading if you don't mind telling me?"

"Oh, um to the library." She tells Slender.

"One Ice and a hot latte." The barista tells them.

Slender takes both of them and hands Amelia her iced latte.

"So, what do you think about the prompt?"

"Umm, well I do think it's pretty simple." She tells him as they walk side by side.

Slender nods taking a sip of his coffee and looks down as he walks by her side. He doesn't know why but all of a sudden his sight began drifting from her soft plumpy lips to down the valley of her breast, her curves, and down her ass.

Amelia pretended to not notice, and if she was honest she would freak out. However, she didn't care. It was weird. If he were another guy she would be running away from him, or even making the shit out of him. Both verbally and physically!

"So, how long have you been teaching?"

"Well, I have five years here." He nodded looking away and only looking at her lips as she smiled up at him.

"Where are you heading, if you also don't mind me asking?" They both laugh and continue walking.

"Back home to grade some papers." He nods as they come to a halt.

"Good luck, Amelia." He nods taking a detour.

"S-Slender!"

Slender turns back to Amelia and his eyes immediately meet her blue ones.

"I'm sorry for my behavior yesterday... and for talking smack about you."

Slender chuckles nodding and smiling at his student.

"Let's leave it in the past, Amelia." He smiles walking away from Amelia, leaving her a blushing and slightly panting mess.

"Oh my gosh!" Nina yelled from the other line, as Amelia bit her lip.

"I'm so fucked."

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

As she sat during class, for once she was distracted. And not at the assignment.

Amelia bit her pen as she watched the way Slender's grey dress shirt hugged his muscles. She had to hold back from breaking the pen as she began looking at the way his pants slightly hugged his waist and his ass.

She had to cross her legs just to feel some sort of friction as her panties grew wetter.

"Who here has already started the essay?" Slender asked, and a few along with Amelia raised their hands.

"If you wish for any help tell me." He nods eyeing Amelia who eyed him back and kept on biting her pen.

Slender began walking around and began walking indirectly towards Amelia.

"Need help?" He whispers leaning into her ear.

"Yeah," She lies.

Slender knew she didn't need help. He knew this assessment was a piece of candy for Amelia.

"Do you want the evidence to be in MLA format?" She asks him as all Slender pays attention to the cleavage of her breasts.

"As long as you make the point clear, Amelia." He growled out her name bringing a shiver up her spine and down her dripping core.

"Mhm," She nods as she continues to type into her laptop.

His hands caressed hers as he began walking to help another student. Throughout the whole class, they eyed one another and Amelia forgot about the essay in front of her.

When the bell rang, Amelia was the last to leave and as she walked out she spared Slender one last glance while he put some papers into his briefcase. Slender looked back at her and smiled softly when she giggled and walked out.

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

"I only need to finish three paragraphs, Nina. So, I'll only be there for you for a little while. Okay?"

Nina nodded squealing as Amelia added lipgloss to complete her look. As they got off their Uber they were pulled into a hug by E.J. who dragged them inside the house.

"Is Jane with you?!" E.J. yelled over the loud music.

"She's doing a work with Liu!" Amelia winks turning to Nina only to find her gone and probably looking for Jeff.

"WHAT?!"

"Jane-"

"So she's not here?!"

Amelia shakes her head turning to Hoodie as he snorts some white powder which Amelia is familiar with. Toby sat drinking a beer, meanwhile, Masky took a blunt from some random girl as she gave him a lap dance.

"Have you guys seen, Jeff?" Amelia asked them as she sat by Toby's side.

"Waiting for Jane." A drunk Toby tells Amelia.

"Why? She's not here."

"WHAT?!" All three guys yell out.

"She's working on an assignment!"

"Weren't you working on Slender's essay?" Hoodie asked her.

"I'm almost done! I'm just here for a little for Nina."

"Wait, where is she?"

"Looking for Jeff," Amelia tells them before taking a shot, and getting up to look for her friend.

"Anne!" Amelia yelled to her nursing friend who turned to her.

"I thought you med-students were not into parties!" Amelia jokes as Anne hugs her.

"I needed a break!" She laughs handing Amelia another shot.

"CHEERS TO FUCKING STRESS!" Amelia yelled out loud enough for her friends to hear.

Anne laughs and with Amelia takes a shot.

"Have you seen Nina?"

"She went upstairs! Jeff's upstairs!" She tells her before going back to talk to her friends.

Amelia walked upstairs and stumbled through the hall, as the alcohol took over her system. She laughed and stumbled open a door finding Nina crying and Jeff across from her.

"N-Nina, look I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong signs, but I was planning on asking Jane." Amelia hears Jeff confess to the girl who was obsessed with him.

"Fuck you and Jane!" She screamed out to Jeff before turning to Amelia.

"Did you know? Of course, you did!"

"What? Nina, no-"

"You did! You said E.J. told you!"

"Wait he told you?!" Jeff gasps afraid Jane knows, however, as if on cue E.J. comes rushing upstairs.

"RETREAT! RETREAT SHE'S NOT HERE! THE PLAN NEEDS TO RETREAT!" He runs in yelling.

"DUDE YOU TOLD HER?!" Jeff pointed at Amelia.

"No!" E.J. yelled turning to Amelia.

"Nina, E.J. only told me Jeff was planning on asking a girl! He didn't tell me who! Plus, I told you!"

"OH SO NOW IT'S MY FAULT HE BROKE MY HEART?!"

"N-No, t-that's not what I mean."

Nina walks out pushing the tipsy Amelia out of her way.

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

"Thanks, E.J." Amelia sniffed as he led her to her dorm.

"Anytime." He nods opening her door for her.

"Hey, remember your essay for Slender."

"Fuck, I forgot." She groans throwing her heels to the floor, and E.J. chuckles.

"Dude, just use ChatGpt. I bet he won't notice."

[bluejaysandblackbats]

One in the Chamber

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Titans, Justice League

Summary: AU where Jason dies under different circumstances, changing Bruce's life forever.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Barbara Gordon, Grant Emerson, Eddie Bloomberg, Danny Chase

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Jason Todd Dies, Bruce Wayne Hallucinates, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson Have a Complicated Relationship, Bruce Wayne's POV

Chapter Three: Van

While picking out Jason’s suit for his funeral, Dick sat on the floor staring at the corner of the room behind the door. “Jason usually disappeared around this time of day,” I whispered. Dick didn’t answer. “I could never figure out where he—. I hate unsolved mysteries.” I set his favorite green suit on his bed, deciding against the black suit I imagined him in. He’d only look dead in black. I wanted to be able to imagine him as alive in his casket. I wanted to pretend he was asleep in his favorite suit, bored to tears at an event. I found all sorts of things in the pockets of the other suits before I decided on that one. I think he’d become obsessed with remembering and recording things. I found recording devices and cameras and flash drives in the pockets of all his suits, but he’d explained that to me time and time again. The incident destroyed his short-term memory, and he was obsessed with documenting everything. It was all heavily encrypted, though. 

Dick leaned forward on all fours, crawling toward the space behind the door. “He hit the wall right here,” Dick mumbled. I shut my eyes, trying to force the memory out of my head. It was too late by that time. I’d almost managed to forget that horrible incident. 

It was Valentine’s Day, and I held a gala in the ballroom that afternoon. Jason didn’t seem like himself. He slumped over the table, sipping water and waving off anyone who tried to speak to him. Even on his worst days, he was friendly and sociable with strangers. I wanted to talk to him, but I was distracted by a woman suggesting we put money into adding another wing to Gotham General. When I had a chance to look up, Jason was gone. I glanced at Dick, and he nodded. 

He called me a few minutes later, but he wasn’t the one talking. Jason sounded different. “I have to s—. I have to talk to Van… Van. Van… I need to gggg—. Hmph, ” Jason half-shouted on the line. I rushed upstairs to Jason’s room. 

He’d vomited in the stairwell, and Dick stood in the room, his hands up in a surrender position. “Jason, I don’t know who Van is… But I want to help you find them,” Dick whispered, “I promise. I’ll do whatever I can to—.” Jason wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 

I stepped inside without Jason noticing, and I shut the door to keep him inside. I was worried that he’d run. “No… I need—. I nnnn—. You don’t understand. I need to see Van,” Jason replied as he held a letter opener toward Dick, but I stepped too close and Jason turned the letter opener on himself. He faltered and staggered to his right. “Please.” Jason whimpered as he tripped over his feet and hit his head against the wall. 

When we got to the hospital, the doctor told us he suffered from something called cerebral venous sinus thrombosis. A blood clot in the brain. He was lucky. It could’ve been much worse. It could’ve killed him. The fall could’ve killed him. He’d cheated death twice. Twice. 

“Bruce,” Dick whispered, pulling me back to the present. His eyes stayed trained on the little bit of blood on the baseboard. “Did you ever find out who Van was?” 

“I don’t know… Jason never did tell me who she—.” I saw something glitter in his eyes, and I wanted to say no. My first thought was to slow down and rest in the confusion and despair, but Jason appeared to me again. 

“It’s no worse than what you plan on doing… And how long has it been since you worked with Dick on something? What harm could it do?” Jason asked. “He’s staring at the baseboards for Christ’s sake.” 

I opened my mouth to say no, and Jason crossed his arms. “Bruce, you have to do something. You can’t both be like this. Give me a break. Focus on someone you can help. It might be fun. You and the O-G Boy Wonder. Like the good old days,” Jason suggested. It wasn’t malicious. He sounded desperate, feigning excitement for me. 

“Do you wanna help me find out?” I asked. Dick turned to me, and he nodded. “Okay. Yeah, let’s get cleaned up, and we’ll talk about it on the way to the—. We’ll talk about it while we do this.”

Jason lingered in the background. “I made you smile…  Everyone knows that, but I couldn’t make you smile anymore. Not the way I used to. I knew that the second I came home… And you weren’t always cold with Dick. What do you love about him? I won’t be jealous. You’ve always had two sons. I didn’t have to be the only one to mean something to you. Or do you think that little of me?” Jason questioned. “What did you love about Dick?” 

I grabbed Dick’s wrist on the way out the door. “You added color to my life, Dick. You always have,” I confessed, “And I want you to stay here if you can spare the—.”

Dick hugged me. I had to get used to that. I hugged him back, but it had been so long since I’d hugged him this often. “I know that took a lot for you to say, but I appreciate you for saying it,” Dick replied. 

He left me quickly afterward, and I hung back for a moment, staring at the little bit of blood on the baseboard. I was never this open with Dick. I was so young when we first started out. I had to do everything I could to pretend like I knew how to be a normal adult. It felt like we were both children for a while, and I thought if I could keep my insecurities and fears away from him I could be the parent he needed. I thought if I closed off the imperfect parts of myself I’d be the perfect father. Still, I did everything wrong, and I never had the chance to fix it. Perhaps this apparition or hallucination of Jason wanted to give me a second chance to get things right with Dick. 

I wanted to try, but I was afraid. Dick wasn’t like Jason. He wasn’t guaranteed to return. Jason always came home. He always called. He never forsook me. Dick was much more free. I loved him, but he wasn’t just my son. He was a bird that perched on my window when he pleased. He belonged to everyone and no one at the same time. Maybe that was something I had to learn to accept. 

Watching Dick rush out of the room, ready to investigate… I would’ve smiled if my heart hadn’t threatened to pull me underground at any moment. I thought I’d die if I tried to smile without him. It didn’t feel fair, but I had to focus on something else. I had to keep moving. If I didn’t, I’d kill him. I’d take the life of the man who killed my son. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready? You’ve got lots of work to do… You’ve got to dig your way through my life to give Dick some closure… We know it won’t be that easy for you. And you have to be mentally prepared. You didn’t know me as well as you think you did. If you dig into my private life, you might find yourself disillusioned. Are you willing to do that to yourself for Dick’s sake?” Jason asked. “Are you willing to kill your final image of me to save your living son?”

“What? I—. I—.” It was an impossible question. A question I made up in my mind, spoken to me by my son. How could I make an honest decision at either of their expense? Jason nodded, looking at me with his big blue eyes. Always dark. So dark. So weary. “I don’t have a choice.”

“So, stop feeling guilty like you had one, then,” Jason whispered as he lay with his forehead against the spot where he originally fell. When I blinked, he was gone. 

I showered and got dressed before taking Jason’s suit down to the car. Dick met me there, holding Jason’s cell in his hand. “We should stop by Barbara’s later on. Maybe she could get into his phone and see his contacts,” Dick whispered. 

“I want you to say something,” I mumbled. Dick looked at me. “I want you to say a few words at his funeral. I’m going to give the eulogy, but I need you to say something. As his brother, I just want you to say a few words about how you—. I just want you to tell a story about him or talk about—. I just want to hear how you felt from your heart. I won’t ask you for anything else.” 

Dick smiled at me. His eyes were bright and warm, full of life. “I can do that,” Dick whispered, “Have you—? Have you decided on whether or not you’re doing something small and intimate or—?”

“Jason talked to me about it a while back. I didn’t want to hear him, but I listened. He wants your friends there, and he—. He wants Eddie and Danny… And he’d like everyone to wear a zinnia. It doesn’t matter which color,” I answered. I had to detach myself from the emotional parts to get things done. I had to pretend it wasn’t tearing me apart inside to bury him. How could I bury him? How could I do anything other than cry? It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t fair. 

Dick clutched his knee as he swallowed hard, and he looked out the window. “Do you think Van is his therapist?” Dick questioned. 

“Van’s probably short for Vanessa… But we won’t limit it to just that. We’ll start with therapists, and then I think we should talk to Eddie and Danny,” I suggested. Besides, as much as it hurt, I needed to know who she was for my own peace of mind. He didn’t ask for me that night when he was agitated and confused. In his paranoia and pain-induced breakdown, he asked for Van. Whoever she was, she meant something to him. I just needed to meet her. I needed to look into her eyes and see the person that made Jason feel safe. It wouldn’t make things alright for me, but it would be a comfort to Dick.

[withpeopleinperson]

11, 12, and 20 for "i choose you and me, religiously" please? it's one of my favs!

omg hi thank u for asking me these!!!!! I love talking about my fics and I especially love when ppl send dms or asks about them off anon because it’s nice to know that real actual people are reading my things !

11. Was there a scene that you hadn't originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?

yes!! so i had the entire thing meticulously planned out and the sick regina scene wasn’t supposed to be in it! neither was the one where they sleep apart and call each other! then a million little things within the fic that originally weren’t planned either (the johnny cash quote, the . i think the main motivator in including them or fitting them in was just that it was so Them that the moment it popped into my head i had to put them in that fic instead of the long document of scene/dialogue/action ideas!

12. Was there a scene you wished you could have included? Why didn't it fit in?

oh my lanta YES! this fic has been in some stage of planning for nearly 3 years and I would chip away at it little by little with ideas and plans that never came to fruition. there was supposed to be a scene where they walk past a park and cady swings with regina and encourages her to heal her inner child, one where they fuck in a bathroom stall, one where they take a road trip and cady picks blue cotton candy bc the color is similar to reginas icy eyes

20. What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

the typos & the lack of italics bc ao3 didn’t import them. hahaha im just joking but there are two typos that it won’t let me fix. but there’s so many little things i peppered in that i wish ppl would tell me they notice. callbacks to the beginning of the fic, full circle moments, the way gretchen and karen are nearly integral plot points without doing much at all. im gonna put some under the cut here for the people who want to notice them on a 2nd or 3rd read through

- the fic starts with cady bringing regina a coffee, near the end regina is the one making cadys coffee

- cady’s careful consideration of regina and her feelings. when she thinks she might offend regina about the spin class, she carefully shifts her wording. she always accepts a drink to make regina not feel self conscious about drinking more or too much. she shares things with regina in conversation when she’s worried regina is self conscious about opening up too much. cady is so attuned to the emotions and thoughts of the people around her

- and on that note. cady is the quiet leader of the relationship while regina makes every physical move. cady is always anticipating reginas thoughts and actions and feelings, always prepared to gently lead them towards the next steps even if she lets regina do all the leading

- reginas extensive shoe and bag collection. i had an entire pinterest board dedicated to her seasonal colors

- the book they read. the way they read it. it’s such a small detail and barely central to the plot but I love that part.

- the way they enmesh so well. it reminds me of a concept that’s been fairly pertinent in my life recently, the fact that you are a combination of all the people you have ever loved, and i think you can look at cady and regina in this fic and see what parts of each other they adopt into themselves. like regina getting water for her bedside table even when cady isn’t there

- i also love the way the proposal scene goes as a full circle moment. it calls back the parking lot being their place, the ring being the expensive thing regina wants to surprise her with in the johnny cash quote scene, the callback to fetchen’s wedding and how regina didn’t think she was cut out for marriage. ugh, it’s excellent.

that was just a lot of me blabbing about me own fic so please feel free to ignore haha

[yell0wsalt]

Fic: man of the year (chapter 3)

a late upload for day 3 of @jayceweek promises

Relationship: Jayce Talis & Ximena Talis

rating: G

wc: 699

Read below or on AO3 here

“What are you working on there, kid?” A nosy distantly related family member peered over a young child’s shoulder with lifted brows and lips split to a small o, observing him diligently scrawl into his sketchbook random patterns, shapes, and forms.

The child allowed the interruption. While holding his space on the notebook, he paused his work and craned his head around to meet the adult’s curiosity with a gaped smile and brightness that rivaled the sun. “Magic!” he brightly proclaimed before returning to his page, fixing up one of the shapes he was in the middle of working on. The angles were slightly askew and not quite like how he had seen in a library book earlier.

The relative’s smile slipped from their features and their jaw went slack. An itch turned visible on one of the corners of their lips. “That’s… nice, Jayce,” they eventually got out, words carefully chosen as if coming upon the realization they’ve blindly entered a minefield and have to carefully backtrack the damage. They settled on giving him a single courteous pat on the back wishing him the best of luck with all of that before hurriedly dismissing themselves. More than likely in search of a more palatable topic of conversation with the adults hanging around to help watch over the other children.

Jayce would look back over his shoulder with a curious brow and small protruding of his lower lip before the call of his sketch drowned everything else out.

One evening underneath the overhead light of the dining room table, Ximena rested the weight of her head in one of her hands as she looked over countless documents spread across the table. The thumb pressing against her temple began to move in slow smooth circles, desperate to work out certain relief. Eyelids started to feel heavy an hour and a half ago and numbers were blurry, but deadlines were deadlines.

At the sound of a weak “mom?” tugging at her attention a few meters away, the mindless motion ceased. She lifted her head from her hand, turning carefully, all senses of fatigue washed off her shoulders.

“Jayce?” She swiveled her body, beckoning her son into open arms. “What are you doing up so late? What’s going on?”

He took several timid steps closer, still not completely in her embrace. Small fingers curled to a fist as if gathering his strength in the molecules of air. “Am… am I… doing something wrong?”

“Oh, mijo,” Ximena’s arms brought Jayce in closer to her chest. A hand cradled the back of his head, shielding him from any more darkness that could cast its way in. Pulling him back to check his features carefully, a finger trailing down his cheek, she replied, “Not at all. Why would you think so?”

“It’s that, um…” Whatever Jayce planned to say died on his lips as his gaze wilted, falling to the space between them. It lingered for a long while. “I don’t know,” he lied.

It didn’t miss Ximena how Jayce wasn’t able to meet her eyes. Carefully she dipped her head to find her son, coaxing his attention back on her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Maybe not now it doesn’t feel like it, but whenever you’re ready. This, you and me, I want it to always be a safe space for you. You can be yourself, love,” she vowed. “It’s okay to fall apart here.”

You don’t have to be anyone but yourself.

Words echoed in his ears as Jayce fell into his mother’s arms once more. The stutters of his back dampened to more of a calm the longer his mother ran her hands up and down his back with care.

You don’t have to be anyone but yourself.

“… as a mother, I have a voice that matters deeply. My son is not in his right mind. His entire life he’s chased an impossible dream. What he did was… foolish and not wise…”

The rest of Ximena’s appeal to Piltover’s Council faded to static in Jayce’s ears.

The thing about promises is they have the power to mean everything. That is, until they are broken. Everything else ultimately crumbles to dust.

[delightfulcatsimmer]

the first autumn on the opalines

with everyone moved in and set up in the first rotation, i thought i'd document some images here below the cut :)

i'm not an expert at this, i'm just doing it so i can remember what the hells going on here LOL...i have so many ideas. i posted some pictures the other day, but every household is in winter now. one or two are in spring

maybe one of my favourites...porpentina kreej. her mom is a hawt mess and poor porpentina wants to be just like her. i usually play my children as children, but she's nine going on nineteen, it's fun to play someone so sassy

here she is "playing" with ruben ridgemont. she's lowkey above playing with the neighbour kids. she needs to reapply her lipgloss and sit at the adult table. ruben is so sweet, kinda neglected and left out of the drama in his family. his mother marisol is having an affair with her brother-in-law/ruben's uncle, his dad david has an alien baby, his two older sisters would rather do literally anything else than socialise with him. he rolled a want to befriend porpentina and i really tried...she just wasn't having it

this is carla ridgemont. the ridgemonts are all pretty creative and obnoxious. i made them all blonde haired blue eyed 'cuz i think its kinda scary lolz. she's probably going to college in spring!

david ridgemont! no idea his wife is having it off with his brother john. never quite understood why john seems resentful of his life. its not resent, dave, it's jealousy.

the ridgemont girls hanging out with ricky ballard. ricky is so cool, i genuinely love him and his dad abraham. im kinda putting off playing them because i dont want anything bad to happen to them LOL. the ridgemonts are WEALTHY and the ballards are not, ricky doesn't really understand scarlett and carla, and here he is bored out of his mind after school one night

marisol ridgemont and her father timothy <3 timothy knows about her affair with john ridgemont, and will take that secret to the grave. timothy owns the corner shop on their island, which is where the ridgemont's got part of their wealth. i realised i made a mistake in cas and made timothy and claudette marisol's parents rather than david and john, but my reasoning for david and john taking the ridgemont name is 1. its more successful and 2. they had a bad upbringing

david ridgemont got abducted by aliens within two minutes of looking through the telescope one night. NOT MY PLAN. but it happened and now theres a sweet alien baby named evanora ridgemont. the surprise pregnancy pushed marisol further towards john. the twin sisters feel kinda grossed out by the baby and want to go to college, and ruben feels ignored as ever. thank god theres a butler because i'd be maxmotives-ing all day with these

marisol and her bestie eunice salerio looking intimidated by basketball. i get girls, i dont like sport either. eunice knows about the affair, and marisol knows eunice has an extremely toxic relationship with her husband, piscary. marisol and john want to help her get out

another alien baby :') this time it's porpentina's mom katie and nexoquar's offspring. this baby is called bedelia :) katie kreej is essentially don lothario, but i wanted the template of the strangetown smith family (alien dad and teen son, human wife and human looking daughter)

nexoquar and nightwing studying together. nexoquar has decided he wants to live on earth full time, and katie isn't too happy with that arrangement. i like playing into the idea that alien sims are super intelligent in other areas, but are oblivious to bad, or strange, human behaviour. katie has a reputation for being promiscuous, and nexoquar is like :) my beautiful honest wife :) like sir get up! nightwing is ricky ballard's bestie and i just love them together

eunice and piscary. dawg i hate piscary so much. i literally created him. i made him like this. i hate him. justice for eunice salerio! they own a pub btw and they are both such a mess they open in their pyjamas and fight in front of punters

there is very little happiness in eunice's life

but thorne nettles <3 who yearns for eunice. john and marisol realised how in love thorne is and realised they could call upon his supernatural mother, esmeralda nettles for some help. esmeralda is the opaline islands resident witch. thorne doesn't have these abilities himself, at least not that he's realised

when john ridgemont isn't having an affair with his sister-in-law you can find him getting married to his new wife clodovea. she's kinda reclusive and has a beautiful cat called sadie. i personally would walk through fire for clodovea, but john realised he could never truly have marisol so he settled for a woman who loves him, but he doesn't love her in the same way :/

anyway, here is john, thorne, and clodovea chatting about eunice and piscary. thornes like yea my mom will probably cast a spell and scare him off. oh naive thorne...

esmeralda <3 i love her. she uses her evil for good <3

the salerio pub is on fire. thorne took eunice out for lunch while esmeralda handled business. she is a witch but there's no spell for pouring petrol on the ground and lighting a match. she just wants her son to be happy and evil men to perish :)

rip piscary. eunice cleaning up the debris, thinking of her new life with thorne. she's not upset this happened, she is relived and won't ask any questions. she's happy to take the insurance payout and start afresh in garnet glades (subhood im working on) with thorne and esmeralda. and who knows, probably a baby or two.

last one...sadie sanford. the most perfect, morally good, beautiful resident of the opalines <3 now lives with her sim mother clodovea, john ridgemont and the baby theyve just had, pierrette. lets bring on winter! won't be as story driven, just wanted to set up everyones personalities/allegiances/beefs/skills/relationships in the first rotation :). there are people ive missed out in this post too! its all happening

[xkittypunkerx]

SCREAM TRILOGY PART ONE - A BEAUTIFUL LIE

Chapter 5 - What Are They Gonna Do

-April Mendez-

The remainder of the car ride stayed relatively silent, thankfully. Jax went back to his side of the van, and I stayed to myself, not like I had much of a choice otherwise. I tried gathering any signs of where we were going by looking out the window, but all I found for the most part was starless skies and trees.

After driving down a very bumpy road, until Phil hit the brakes hard, jerking me forward. Through the windshield I could see that we were officially in the middle of nowhere off of a sad excuse of a dirt road. A small one-story shack rested atop the small hill, complete with crooked shudders, missing shingles, and decrepit wood.

I can't believe something as unstable as that was still standing, let alone supporting all five of these lunatics.

"Home sweet home," Seth said with a ridiculous smile as he quickly undid the chains and pulled me out of the van.

As soon as we got inside, I felt tears fill my eyes as my nose caught wind of the horrid smell. I couldn't precisely describe the stench, but if I had to make an attempt, I'd say it was rotting flesh, stale blood, and molding food.

It was like death itself was present in the living room. Phil watched me intently before explaining, "You'll get used to it soon enough." I just gagged even more.

To distract myself from the smell, I looked around the room to see if I could form any sort of escape route. The room was connected to the kitchen via a small opening in the off-white wall. There were two large windows to my left, one of which had a bullet hole penetrating the glass. Some portions of wallpaper remained on the walls. It was brown, peeling, and entirely unattractive.

The carpet looked like a rainbow with all kinds of colorful stains from God knows what. Lastly, there was a couch and table in the middle of the room, a square TV from the 90s, an old Play Station, a recliner, and some knives scattered across the carpet; all of the knives were permanently dyed red from blood.

After surveying the room, I began to wonder what exactly they planned to do with me. Were they going to kill me? Rape me? Hurt me? Make me beg for my life? I guess I should have seen this coming. I mean I always knew there was something wrong with them...ever since I had told Phil I was moving, things just weren't the same.

Phil was never the same.

-Flashback, 2 ½ Years Ago-

"Phil...there's something I have to tell you," I mumbled into the phone receiver.

My parents had just told me that in a couple months we'd be moving to Jersey. It was for my dad's job, but even so I couldn't really bring myself to accept it. I'd spent my entire life in this house...and quite honestly, I didn't want to leave.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"You know how my dad lost his job? He got a new one."

"That's great, Ape! Why do you sound sad about it?"

"Phil, the job is in Atlantic City. We're going to be moving in a few months...and I wanted you to be the first to know. I haven't been able to tell anyone else just yet."

There was a long amount of silence on the other end before he was finally able to respond. He must be just as shaken up as I am, which I completely understand. We were just now starting to really get into our relationship. "What... What am I supposed to do without you here, Ape?"

I sighed heavily, unsure how to answer. "We'll make it work, Phil."

"Ok, I hope so. Anyway, you should get back to work on your paper. Call me when you're done."

I clicked "save" at the top of the document, admiring my work briefly before exiting. Words couldn't describe how relieved I felt to have finally finished my exam paper for English class. Excitedly, I reached for my cell phone and dialed Phil's number.

After getting nothing but an answering machine, I tossed the phone back on my bed and sighed. Maybe his phone was on silent. I guess I'll just have to go over to his house and surprise him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I drove over to his place and knocked on the door, but there was no response. I knew that he kept a spare key on his back porch, so I went there and got inside.

"Hello?" I called.

Once again, there was no answer. I was about to just turn around and leave, until I heard a thump on the floor above my head. I wonder what that could be? I slowly walked up the stairs, despite the chills of fear that were terrorizing my spine. Something wasn't right here...yet I found myself continuing forward to Phil's room.

"Phil, is that you?" I asked cautiously.

I heard more strange thumping noises, followed by laughter. I opened his bedroom door slowly and gasped at the sight. There was red liquid splattered all across his hardwood floor. Was that blood? I followed the liquid trail to its source.

Nadia, James's girlfriend and one of my best friends, was sprawled across the floor with a huge gash running along her body. The blood was spilling out of Nadia's body. In addition to the stretching gash, there were multiple stab wounds in her chest and random scratches all over her body. Blood pooled into the cracks of the wood, and doused their clothing.

"Nadia?!" I screamed in horror.

Phil turned around and smiled, "Oh hey there Ape, come to join the party? You're next in line, you know."

Next in line for what? Death? I could feel my lungs constrict tightly, trapping me in a choking episode. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak.

"Did you kill Nadia? james, that's... that's your girlfriend! She was my friend! She never did anything to you! What were you guys thinking? You're all gonna go to jail!"

Jax stepped forward with a menacing look in his eyes. "We're not going anywhere, and neither are you."

He quickly grabbed my arm, but because his fingers were coated in wet blood, he lost his grip quickly, giving me just enough time to get the fuck out of there. I immediately ran back down the stairs, slowing down halfway upon noticing that I wasn't being followed. Could it be that I just imagined I saw all that? It would make more sense than believing that my boyfriend was a crazed murderer, that's for sure!

Before I could leave his house completely, I slipped at the stairs, losing consciousness after banging my head into the banister. When I woke up, I was in my bed with nothing more than a small band-aid on my forehead and a little bruise on my leg.

All of that had to be a nightmare. There is no other explanation. None of them could really be capable of murder could they? And it's not like Nadia was the kind of girl to get herself in that kind of trouble.

Regardless of whatever the reality of it all may be, I could never could get rid of the sinking feeling in my stomach. The next day, my parents told me that we'd be moving sooner than expecting, and for the first time since I initially heard the news, I couldn't be more than thrilled.

The following day I ended my relationship with Phil and refused to speak to any of the guys before moving. The chances may have been small, but truth be told, I was scared that that dream could have been real. My life could have been truly endangered. I didn't tell him any of that though. The move was enough of an excuse.

Given the recent chain of events, I think it's pretty safe to say that they really did kill Nadia that day. They intended to kill me next, but I moved away before they could get me. And now that I walked right into the lion's den, they were ready to finish the job by killing me. I felt the strained expression of fear reform on my face as I made the effort to back up as far as I possibly could to be a fair distance from them.

Phil knew all too well what I was up to. He quickly came over behind me and pulled me closer to the group. "Don't think you're going anywhere soon, April. We've got loads of fun planned for you."

I wanted so badly to free myself from his grip, but before I could begin struggling, a loud gunshot echoed throughout the house.

"What the hell is going on down there, Keenan?" Jax yelled.

The guys all sprung up to their feet and ran into the nearby hallway. James was lying on the floor, clutching his shoulder. Blood was leaking onto the carpet. A burning, circular hole appeared in the wooden door to the right. Someone shot him from behind that door.

-Celeste Bonin-

Escaping here is gonna be much easier than I originally anticipated. The floorboards above my head were endlessly creaking, and I knew that more of them had since arrived. Time to go kill. I gripped the gun tightly between my fingers as I walked toward the staircase.

I stood on the first step at the bottom and noticed that they were wooden stairs and would probably creak with each of my steps, greatly reducing the element of surprise. Nevertheless, I crept up the stairs as slowly and silently as possible, maintaining a minimum amount of creaking.

Once I reached the top, I could see a strip of light beneath the door. I waited and watched until a shadow of someone would walk by.

As I was waiting, I heard a female voice in the mix of male voices. It didn't take me long to realize that I was hearing AJ's voice. I can't believe Parking Lot Creep was serious about knowing her, but it was honestly irrelevant.

Now I'd have to save both of us, which only made the adventure even greater. A small smile formed across my lips as adrenaline rushed through my veins. Oh, how I love a good adventure.

After about ten minutes, someone finally came near the door. I jumped up to my feet and wasted no time kicking the door open slightly and firing through the wood at whoever was stupid enough to cross paths with me. After the body fell to the floor, I peaked through the bullet hole to find that it was the parking lot creep! How perfect.

I grinned evilly as I watched him writhe on the ground, groaning in pain for the second time this evening. I saw four other men run into the hallway, staring down at his body in disbelief. The Biker looking man in the center of the group turned to look at the door and saw me through the hole.

"Seth, take care of his wound. It looks like I've got a pest to exterminate," he growled.

I laughed, "Uh, pest? Please, I'm more of a pestilence!" I held the gun in position, shedding the extra bullet shell, and aiming it toward Mr. Biker.

"Ready to die?" I asked with a cocky smile.

The guy next to him with long black raven hair smirked and pulled a knife out of his back pocket. "Wow, she's pretty aggressive. This will be fun."

Mr. Biker stepped forward, his chest making contact with the barrel of the gun. I glared at him for having the nerve to show me any disrespect. "Get out of my way so that me and my friend can ditch this shitty place!" I demanded, not once feeling my aim falter.

"Oh, I don't think that will be happening anytime soon."

This guy seemed way to confident for someone who was about to get shot.

[addictivepsychology]

Day 135

I’m so angry at work today

It can’t get worse

The list of daily things I have to do at work in a span of about 1.5 hours-

Set up my indoor project

Set up my outdoor project

Make sure the wagon that’s supposed to be done by an employee is ready

Make sure my team knows their spots on the yard

Make meeting notes on tues& Thurs

Setup the side yard:

Move the tarp from under the bricks of the 10x10 sand pit

Make comfy corner

Take toys out for a blanket

Setup some sort of free art /art project for the table

And somewhere in all that, I have to find time to plan for the next months projects

As onto the boards/dramatic play/ pictures for documentation

I’m definitely stretched thin

And my boss’ expectations are sky high, in a place where nobody can even reach

So when we get back in from break, she expects everything to be done for the new year

But with what time do I have

So yesterday I asked someone to setup the side yard since the 3 of us were tackling the inside room and getting it ready for the new theme

Apparently he got talked to about doing that

So I guess I have to do all of it

On my time

By myself

I’m so fucking pissed off

I just want to leave

Fuck your expectations

I come first

My mental health comes first

Every day there’s something new

Something I do wrong or something my team does wrong

But we’re human

I’m going to try my best not to be irritated today

Did I mention one of my team called out

Again

Said some bad shits happened

What’s bad enough for you to miss work

Once a week for a few weeks

Go fuck off, I don’t need you on my team

Youre sinking us

Even more than we are already

Than they already tell us we are

Being pissed off isn’t good for my diet

I’ll keep eating the chocolate from my break room

But I’ve fought it so far, but I still have most of my shift to cave, and I will eventually

Maybe I��ll finally be able to get into the gym today though

Maybe my car will be happy

And so will I when I go home

I think I’ll be conflicted forever

On so many topics

I can’t figure it out, But I don’t want to

Like learning the moves to chess

It’ll make it boring, life is exciting to be boring,

But I do with that I could just find my person and live with them

And never date again

That would be so easy, wouldn’t it

But I’m not sure if I’ve found them already, who can say

I’m still only 4 months out of my past relationship

How would that ever be enough time to heal

But I feel I have, because when there’s a break up,

The emotional break up has already happened

I guess I never realized how far gone everything was

It’s sad, how two people love each other so much for so long, for what seems like no reason

Finally back in the gym and it feels so good

I love working out

If life was easy, I’d probably end up working out twice per day

And it become like an addiction

Days can feel so long

Like multiple lifetimes in one 24 hour span

With the indefinite emotions and

Choices

I don’t take advantage of life enough,

I forget how many hours are in a day

Having to work a normal 9-5

We forget that we can live outside of that

I’m not a slave to my job

Or to my emotions

We ate dinner together on FaceTime and talked about our day

It was nice and normal

Got ready for the gym and got to vent

Thanks for listening

And not being bored, or acting bored

I get nervous I will hurt you

I want to keep things open

I really like you

We get along so well

In a lot of different aspects of our lives

Thanks for always listening

Always reading

Always knowing

I don’t have to even talk to you for you to say something I need to hear

Since you hear my thoughts

When nobody else can

When I don’t want anyone else to

I don’t want to lose that

But what do I gain from not wanting to lose

Limbo isn’t a good place to be

But I guess the Internet is a forever in between

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/humans-too-clever-by-half/

Humans, Too Clever By Half

The Heritage Foundation believes it knows what’s good for America.  That’s why I paused to read Kevin D. Robert’s Forward to its latest manifesto, Project 2025. Should Donald Trump be elected our President in November, Robert’s introduction to the document summarizes the changes to expect to the political system. The plan focuses on two aspects of government: 1) the Washington Establishment— administrative bureaucracy that promulgates rules to implement legislative action; and 2) the relationship between bureaucrats and cultural elites. For some, the Washington Establishment, otherwise known as the Administration, may evoke unhappy memories of encounters with the IRS, Social Security, or a parochial school board. As a former legislator for a local government, I can attest to the horrors of bureaucratic overreach. One incident occurred years ago when I drafted an ordinance proposing to support our struggling school district with a grant to provide nursing staff in the middle schools.  About to leave for a conference, I left the measure for fine-tuning in the hands of an administrator before boarding my train. In theory, the ordinance was non-controversial. A school nurse would take student temperatures if necessary, call a parent when one of their offspring suffered a tummy ache, or slap bandages on bloodied knees. Benign objectives like these left me unprepared upon my return to find my staff looking frazzled as if they’d spent the week scrubbing dirty shirt collars at a cheap laundry.  They clustered around me to complain that some bureaucrat had added birth control counseling to the list of nursing duties.  When voters got wind of it, there were public calls for my hanging. True, teen pregnancy was on the rise, so the idea had merit.  But, I hadn’t proposed it. Therein lies the difference between a pensioned bureaucrat and a politician. The latter knows to anticipate uprisings.  Sadder but wiser, I never left an unfinished legislative proposal in the hands of an administrator again. Given my experience, when I read that Project 2025’s intention was to boil D. C. bureaucrats in hot sauce, I felt a shiver of fellow feeling.  I also agreed that government belonged to the people and so each of us must have the freedom to pursue the good for ourselves and those entrusted to our care. ( Forward, pg. 3) Of course, everyone knows the devil lies in the details.  The manifesto went on to define freedom as our God-given right to restore the family as the centerpiece of American life and protect our children.” Reading the words, I grew cautious, particularly as I was also exhorted to defend our nation’s border and to agree that the building blocks of a healthy society were  Marriage. Family. Work. Church. School. (Forward, pgs. 3-4.)  My patience broke when I reached the part about educators and public librarians being classified as registered sex offenders if they displayed books concerning sexual identity. (Forward, pg. 5)  On the matter of the cultural elite, I haven’t the space here to address the issue. I pause only to observe that despite his Ph.d, Robert strikes me as an ignorant man. Johannes Guttenberg was a member of the cultural elite when he invented the printing press. That device brought knowledge to the rich and poor alike.  What Guttenberg hadn’t anticipated was that his press would also crank out a lot of Ph.d drivel.  Of course, one man’s drivel can pass for wisdom to like minds. The Heritage Foundation is an ultra-conservative think tank, so Robert’s opinions didn’t surprise me. Rather, I read the document in full not for enlightenment but to unearth my biases.     Failing to know ourselves can become a source of laughter.  The other day, for example, I joined a table of fellow retirees who’d gathered for morning coffee.  As I pulled out a chair, I overheard one woman’s remark about another who was absent. “She thinks everyone is stupid but herself.”  I pretended not to hear but inwardly smiled.  Several studies have shown that most of us think we are superior to others.     In 1999, Justice Kruger and David Dunning published one of these reports, known, unsurprisingly, as the Kruger-Dunning effect.  The psychologists affirmed that we all think well of our intelligence. What amazed them was that those who held themselves in the highest esteem were often the least capable. Donald Trump’s boast that “Only I can do this” comes to mind.       illusory superiority, which is how social scientists reference the condition, has shadings. Not all of us imagine we are geniuses, but like the children of Lake Wobegon, we do consider ourselves to be above average.  Admittedly, the opinion plays havoc with the Bell Curve, but it also plays havoc with the planet.  Paleontologist Donald Johanson also noted our smugness when he wrote that as a species, we are overly focused on ourselves. (“Q&A,” by Nancy Perry Graham, AARP Bulletin, May 2024, pg. 33.)  History makes it difficult to disagree.  Self-absorption is why we have given little thought to the changes we’ve imposed on our habitat, changes like deforestation and urbanization, that threaten biodiversity and ourselves.     A honey bee understands the hives’s dependence upon the environment.  We humans, though all above average, don’t seem to make the connection.  Like Robert, many of us scoff at the idea of interconnection.  Words like Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion appear to them to be no more than far-left political propaganda. The bee knows better.  DEI is natural law.   I think it odd that a species whose members claim to be smarter than all others should be unable to foresee its extinction.  Certainly, Nature isn’t to blame. She gave us the gift of language. What remains to be seen is if we are smart enough to read what we have written.  If not, then one day DEI will be seen as a misspelling of DIE.

[cmcsmen]

The Story Behind Catholic Men Chicago Southland

By Frank J Casella, CMCS Co-founder & Executive Director

(For those new to CMCS or you need to read this again)

“Catholic Men Chicago Southland is an apostolate of Reverend Bishop Joseph N Perry, and works to encourage and support contemporary Catholic Men to grow spiritually, and to bring Jesus Christ into their daily lives and all of their relationships.” 

— The CMCS Mission

That was the mission we started with in 2004 when Deacon John Rangel, David Taylor (who no longer lives in the Archdiocese), and I went to Bishop Joseph N Perry with our vision, and hope for his blessing. His Excellency is now retired, but it’s still our mission today. We went to Bishop Perry because he was our local Vicar (as one) of the six Vicariates (divisions) of the Archdiocese of Chicago.

We could have tried to do this on our own, but I learned from my previous experiences, both with the  Catholic Men In Action that I was a territory rep for (and is no longer a ministry), and from my photography work for the archdiocese and documenting the ministry of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, that you need to have a  platform to work from.

Bishop Perry not only understood this, he also was interested is providing a challenge to men in the Vicariate to live the  Virtues of a Catholic Man and make Christ the center of our daily lives. So it has been proven many times over the years that Bishop Perry’s belief in CMCS, and nurturing Catholic men’s spirituality, has opened more doors — and hearts — than we could ever do on our own. And this I am personally grateful for!

I’m glad that we also followed his advice to stay a manageable size in the Vicariate, instead of trying to reach the whole archdiocese, since each Vicariate is about the size of the average diocese in the American Church. That if a group of men wanted to start a movement in another vicariate, we’d provide their Vicar with the template for doing this. So far there has been much interest, but only one commitment in the Edgewater area of Chicago. 

The Back Story

You might say that Catholic men’s ministry is second nature to me, having been raised as a third-generation Knights of Columbus. I recall vividly helping my late father as a kid with all the functions, causes, parties, and parades. From going to talk to the butcher, to table set up, promotion and ticket sales, serving the participants, clean up, and finally awarding the results to a charity, which CMCS does today. Event planning is my conditioned skill.

But there was something missing in all of this. I saw this void. A need for a Catholic men’s prayer breakfast, to challenge men to replace bad habits with good habits and to develop a holy life. To  feed the stomach, and then feed the Soul.

As far back as the 1980’s I recall men’s conferences starting to trickle into the fabric of our faith life. And this is where I met Deacon John Rangel, who has a passion for parish men’s groups and Pro-Life. We went to many of these events, from many faiths. Some called for men to be accountable to each other, and others had an Altar Call, or to be Born Again. And most of the Catholic men’s conferences had a great message but fell short of making that challenge or commitment to holiness and simply living the fundamentals of the faith. Something I think we easily take for granted. 

We need Catholic and holy men in our lives, who practice virtues and goodness, make a positive difference, and that we can look to as models of a life work in progress.

“We are a people of possibility, the Holy Spirit is the great encourager … holiness is possible. ~ Matthew Kelly

In Covenant With Jesus

It is true, Jesus Christ wants to have a personal relationship with each of us as our Savior and Lord. But Jesus wants much more than that; he wants us in covenant with himself. I can have a personal relationship with the neighbor down the street; but that doesn’t mean he wants me to move in and share his home.

Jesus Christ wants us in the New Covenant that he established through his own flesh and blood, the same covenant he renews through the Holy Eucharist. When his sacrifice for us is renewed at the altar, we gather at the family table for the sacred meal that makes us one.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and  eat with him and he with me.” (Rev 3:20)

Likewise, in the home, us men are called to lay down our life for our wife. To serve her as Jesus served her. To love and sacrifice for her the way Jesus loved and sacrificed for you.

The Christian home is the place where children receive the first proclamation of the faith. For this reason the family home is rightly called “the domestic church,” a community of grace and prayer, a school of human virtues and of Christian charity. Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 1666

But remember Christ’s words to Saint Paul that  “power is made perfect in weakness.” That is, most men will admit that their strength, their rock is their wives.

Jesus wants us to know not only the Father and the Holy Spirit but his Blessed Mother and all His sainted brothers and sisters as well. He also wants us to live according to the family structure he established for his Church on earth: the Pope and all the bishops and priests united to him.

The Gospel is not about setting up a legal system, but about transforming hearts. It is about freeing people, one at a time, from the darkness and slavery of sin.

Presenting The Challenge

I remember when the late Cardinal Francis George, archbishop of Chicago, said one of his many profound words in the public square, when he said that  “we as a Catholic Church have much to learn from our Protestant brothers and sisters about marketing and promotion, and evangelization. “

This was my answer. So around 2009 we began an online ministry to reach Catholic men in any way possible, and learn from those who are good at it.  Though Bishop Perry reminded the need to balance that with the community ‘in the pews’. Community is the foundation of our Catholicism.

So in the era of TV Evangelists, Internet Churches, and Social Media Ministry, CMCS sets the tone in Chicago Southland for nurturing Catholic men’s spirituality, and presenting men the challenge for holiness, in Covenant with Jesus. And we do this in-person, through our gatherings, where men can discuss and connect the dots with each other about their spiritual journey. And we have Mass with bishop who presents the challenge to the men.

The men will tell you how the personal impact from this is profound in a way that can not be experienced online. Then, what we do online is a symptom of what is working with community ‘in the pews’, to continue their spiritual journey. We are all a work in progress, and learn from each other.

It’s not so much about accountability to each other, but Covenant with Jesus that transforms us as men.

I have seen over the years that when you foster a Man in holiness, the positive adjustments he makes creates a upstanding man, husband, or father, and this impact can be felt for three generations. What this takes is (for us) to transform one man at a time from good intentions into right-action, and thus to develop a holy church.

For just as the Church cannot survive without the sacramental priesthood, so too, the father is an essential element of a healthy family. Fathers have a significant spiritual impact on their (and men with all) children precisely because of their unique role in the order of creation.