#SORRY but i finally read i robot and i just HAD to get it out kshdnsdndfjd

[felassan]

David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:

"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."

"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"

"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."

"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."

""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"

[source thread]

[clover-the-awesomest]

Major respect and gratitude to all these wonderful artists and logical people!! I'm an amateur artist myself who has never seen the appeal in AI art at all, or just AI in general, but I never really thought too much on how the situation affects people with disabilities. This thread though shows me and other regular people how free and creative art is. And how "Art" as a concept really doesn't have any limitations! You don't need a robot to do something that only a human can truly understand, and you shouldn't have to!

Thanks for sharing all your POV's on this situation and I'm glad we still have some sensible people in such a shitty world. <3

Plus, AI just sucks overall.

"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity

[pucksandpower]

Metamorphosis

Charles Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Charles makes the worst mistake of his life, leaving him to watch from the sidelines as you move on to bigger and better things (and people)

Warnings: cheating, only one of you gets a happy ending (hint: it’s not Charles)

Based on this request

Charles enters the bedroom he shares with you, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to finally come clean about his infidelity. The guilt has been eating away at him for weeks.

You’re sitting up in bed, reading a book. You look up with a warm smile as Charles approaches. “Hey, you’re home early.”

Charles takes a deep breath. “Yeah … we need to talk.” His voice is heavy with regret.

You mark your page and set the book aside, giving him your full attention. “What’s going on?”

Charles sits down on the edge of the bed, unable to meet your trusting gaze. “I ...” The words get caught in his throat. How can he tell you? How can he shatter the life you’ve built together?

After a long pause, you prompt gently, “Charles? You’re worrying me ...”

He forces himself to look at you. Your beautiful face, your eyes full of love and concern for him. It breaks his heart anew.

“I’ve done something unforgivable,” he confesses in a pained murmur. “I … I cheated on you.”

For a moment, the room is silent. You stare at him, eyes widening in shock and hurt. Then, almost robotically, you slide out of bed and walk over to the closet. You pull out a suitcase and start methodically packing clothes.

“What? No, please, don’t do that!” Charles jumps up, panic and desperation gripping him. “I’m so sorry, it was a mistake! It meant nothing to me, I swear!”

You don’t respond, continuing to pack with eerie calm.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me? Throw things? Please, just … show some emotion!”

You pause and look at him impassively. “Why should I waste my energy? You’ve clearly checked out of our relationship already.”

Charles feels like he’s been slapped. “No! No, that’s not true at all! I love you, I want to make this work!”

Shoving the last shirt into the suitcase, you move over to the vanity and begin unclasping your jewelry — pieces he gave you on holidays or your anniversary or just because. You stack the earrings, necklaces, and bracelets on the surface, finally pulling off your engagement ring and adding it to the pile with a soft clink.

“Please ...” Charles begs, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t leave me. We can get through this, I promise!”

You zip up the suitcase and turn to him, your expression unreadable. “Let me go, Charles.” You roll the suitcase toward the door.

Charles follows you through the apartment, desperation clawing at his insides. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so, so sorry. Please, just give me another chance!”

You stop at the front door, finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes are dry, but there is a deep sadness etched onto your features. “Why should I give you another chance when you didn’t give me or our relationship a second thought?”

“No, wait!” He rushes after you, grabbing your arm. You shrug him off easily, pausing with your hand on the knob to look back at him one last time.

“I used to think you were my soulmate,” you say quietly. “But you’ve shown me who you really are. I can’t keep loving a lie.”

“Don’t do this!” he pleads, desperation clawing at his throat. “Don’t just give up on us, on everything we had!”

You pause at the front door, finally turning to face him fully. “You gave up first, Charles. Not me.”

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Because you’re right — he’s the one who destroyed this, who sacrificed your life together for one selfish moment.

Your jaw tightens slightly, the first flicker of emotion he’s seen. “Goodbye, Charles.”

You turn and walk out the door, pulling it shut behind you with a final click.

Charles is left staring at the closed door, the deafening silence around him. He’s not sure how long he stands there, frozen, replaying your parting words in his mind. Goodbye, you’d said, without any anger or tears.

Just … goodbye.

***

Months later, Charles is seated in the front row at Milan Fashion Week, watching the Ferrari Style runway show with a tight smile plastered on his face. He’s here for publicity, to keep up appearances, even though the last thing he wants is to be thrust into the spotlight tonight.

Not when you are walking in the show.

He tries not to hold his breath as each new model struts down the sleek crimson catwalk. He’s successful at keeping his cool, nodding occasionally at a particularly striking outfit, until suddenly … there you are.

You emerge from the backstage wings, a vision in deep Ferrari red from head to toe. But it’s not just a dress or evening gown. No, the Spanish flag and bold 55 displayed proudly on the front of the outfit leave no doubt — you’re wearing a feminine version of his teammate’s race suit.

Charles’ jaw goes slack as you move with confidence, head held high, every inch the picture of poise and strength. Of a woman who has moved on, left him and their broken relationship in the rearview mirror.

His hands clench in his lap as you pivot at the end of the runway. Even from here, he can see that characteristic glint in your eyes, the spark that had drawn him to you in the first place. The same spark that had been extinguished in those final moments at your shared apartment.

As the show wraps up and the other models join you, Charles rises shakily. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he has no right. But the masochistic urge to see you up close, to try and speak to you for the first time in months, is overpowering.

He makes his way backstage, flashing his credentials to bypass security. A deafening mix of cheers and laughter guides him towards the dressing area, where he finds a cluster of models still in their runway looks, giddily celebrating.

And there you are in the center, radiant and alive in a way he hasn’t seen in so long. A tall, broad-shouldered man he doesn’t recognize moves towards you, a massive bouquet of red roses in his hand.

Something dark and ugly rears up in Charles’ chest as the man leans down, offering you the flowers with a brilliant smile. Your returning grin is equally bright as you accept them, lifting the vibrant blooms to inhale their sweet scent.

Of course you have suitors lining up, Charles thinks bitterly. Look at you — confident, successful, leaving him and your painful history together far behind. Who wouldn’t want to give their entire heart to someone like you?

The irrational flare of jealousy is like acid in his veins as you turn to the man, mouth opening to undoubtedly offer your gratitude. But then, shockingly, the man simply pivots towards a nearby male model, gripping his lapels and pulling him into a searing kiss.

Charles blinks dumbly as the pair continue their heated embrace, seemingly oblivious to the raucous cheers and whoops from the other models, you included.

Even as the tight knot of jealousy in Charles’ chest loosens, it’s replaced by something worse — a sinking feeling of regret as he watches you from his hidden vantage point.

You look … happy.

Vibrant.

Surrounded by friends and uplifted by your success, without him holding you back with his selfish mistakes.

Why did he ever think confronting you backstage was a good idea? You’ve clearly moved on to an exciting new chapter, one he has no place in. Not after how much he broke you, shattered the loving core you’d shared.

You throw your head back in a full-bellied laugh at something one of the other models says. Even from here, even with the distance he forced between you, the uninhibited joy on your face in that moment cuts straight to Charles’ heart.

“Hey, you lost back here?” A rough voice breaks into his thoughts. Charles turns to find a burly security guard eyeing him suspiciously.

“I … no. No, I was just leaving.” Charles forces his feet into motion, turning on his heel to all but flee from the scene of your happiness.

As painful as it is seeing how beautifully you’re thriving without him, he has no one to blame but himself. He’s the one who threw away the greatest thing he ever had. You owe him nothing, certainly not delaying your healing by dredging up the past.

Even if watching you move on cuts deeper than any physical wound.

***

The salty Sardinian breeze ruffles Charles’ hair as he leans back on the plush deck lounger, soaking in the warm August sun. For the first few days of their annual family yacht trip, he’d felt the knots of tension slowly unraveling from his shoulders as the clear blue waters and simple routines of life at sea worked their magic.

His mother’s gentle humming as she read nearby, the sounds of his brothers horsing around and doing cannonballs off the stern, the nights spent under a blanket of stars — it had almost been enough to fully distract him from thoughts of you.

Almost.

But of course, nothing can ever be that simple.

“What the hell is that!” Arthur’s annoyed shout breaks the tranquil silence.

Charles squints against the glare over the water to see what his brother is griping about. At first, it’s just a speck on the horizon. But as it draws nearer, he can make out the sleek, gleaming white lines of another yacht — one nearly triple the size of his own comparatively modest vessel.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Charles mutters under his breath as the ostentatious floating palace drops anchor mere yards from their private little cove. So much for the serenity they’d been enjoying.

He rises, moving to the railing with narrowed eyes as the other yacht’s passengers begin to emerge on the decks above them, raucous cheers and laughter cutting through the previously still air. The sound is abrasive, grating on Charles’ very last nerve.

Until a very specific, very familiar laugh rings out.

It can’t be … can it?

Charles freezes, his heart jackrabbiting as your unmistakable voice and bright, bubbling giggle reach him across the waters. He watches, feeling like he’s been doused in ice water, as you come into view alongside a group of equally vibrant, beautiful people.

Of course it’s you. Who else could it possibly be, here to upend his few days of hard-won peace?

You lean over the railing, your sunglasses sliding down your nose as you peer down at the crystal clear waters. Even from here, even with the distance separating you, Charles is struck by your radiant, carefree smile. When was the last time he saw you look so … effortlessly happy?

Before he can spiral too far down that winding road, you whip off your sunglasses and straighten, pulling the flowing fabric of your cover-up over your head in one smooth motion. You toss it aside carelessly, revealing the deep navy string bikini underneath as you take a few steps back from the railing.

Charles’ mouth goes dry as he tracks the sway of your hips, the confident, easy way you carry yourself in just that tiny scrap of swimwear. And then, with a bright peal of laughter, you’re sprinting forward and sailing over the railing, tucking into a flawless backflip before slicing into the glittering waves below.

A chorus of cheers and whoops erupts from your friends as they follow your graceful leap, one by one pelting into the water in your wake like a stream of sleek dolphin dancers. Charles watches, his earlier frustration morphing into something darker and much more complicated, as your head breaks the surface, tendrils of your soaked hair clinging to the graceful curves of your neck and shoulders.

You toss your head back, slicking the dripping strands away from your face as you tread water easily, that brilliant, freed smile never slipping. How long has it been since Charles saw you look so radiant, so at peace, so … alive?

“Mon ami, close your mouth before you start drooling all over the deck.”

Joris’ voice startles Charles from his reverie. He blinks, only then realizing his hands are clenched tightly around the cool metal railing, knuckles straining white. His best friend arches an expectant brow as Charles quickly averts his eyes, flushing hotly.

“I wasn’t ...” he starts weakly, but Joris simply scoffs.

“Yeah, okay mate. Keep telling yourself that.” Joris settles in beside him, bare feet kicked up on the railing as his eyes track over to your group, now engaged in an intense game of chicken fight among the gentle waves. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”

The resentful scowl that tugs at Charles’ mouth is automatic, instinctive. “I couldn’t care less how she looks,” he lies through gritted teeth.

Even to his own ears, the petulant deflection sounds pathetic. Joris raises an unimpressed brow. “Could’ve fooled me, with how you were eye-fucking her from over here just now.”

Charles’ flush deepens as your bright, delighted laughter rings out again, echoing across the waters. “It’s not like that,” he insists, even as his gaze traitorously tracks after the source of that sound. “I was just … surprised to see her here, that’s all.”

“Sure, yeah. And I’m the Prince of Monaco.” Joris snorts, shaking his head. “Listen, man, I get it-”

“You don’t get anything,” Charles bites out, rounding on his friend as frustration boils over. “You have no idea what it’s like seeing her like … like that, after everything. She’s just moved on like our entire relationship meant nothing!”

The ugly admission hangs between them in the still air, Charles panting slightly from the force of the outburst. Joris watches him cautiously for a long moment before speaking. “That’s not fair, Charles. You’re the one who-”

“I know!” Charles cuts him off sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know what I did, alright? You don’t have to remind me.”

He sinks back against the railing, suddenly exhausted down to his very bones. Out across the waves, you’re perched atop one of your friend’s shoulders, engaged in an epic battle against another pair that’s quickly devolving into a fit of violent splashing.

“I know I screwed everything up. I have to live with that every single day.” Charles’ throat feels tight, watched. “I just … I never thought I’d have to watch her being so happy without me too.”

The fight seems to leave Joris as he takes in Charles’ miserable, broken expression. The other man sighs, squeezing Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry. That’s … that’s got to be tough as hell to see. But you can’t blame her for moving on and being happy again, you know? What you did … well, you really broke her heart.”

Charles doesn’t respond, letting the words hang heavy between them as your melodic laugh continues to drift towards them. He knows Joris is right — he has no one to blame for this gut-wrenching situation but himself. But that doesn’t make watching your vibrant, beautiful soul shine so bright without him there any easier.

***

Charles guides his Ferrari up to the valet stand outside one of his favorite restaurants in Monaco, the engine purring like a contented cat. He throws the car into park and kills the ignition, savoring that last potent growl of the powerful motor.

There’s just something different about a Ferrari, something quintessentially Italian and bred for speed. He runs an appreciative hand along the sleek black curve of the door as he waits for the valet. This is a beast made for the racetrack, for pushing past limits. Not like those garish, overcompensating-

The loud rumble of another engine cuts into his thoughts. Charles looks up in disdain as a blinding yellow Lamborghini pulls up.

“Trying too hard, as always,” Charles mutters to himself as he watches the valet park the ostentatious machine. Could a car be any more desperate for attention? Absolutely zero class or restraint.

He climbs out, already half-dismissing it from his mind, when a familiar figure emerges from the restaurant entrance. The valet is hastening to assist, offering a hand as she descends the front steps in a form-fitting crimson dress. Even from here, even with the perfectly curled hair and smokey makeup, Charles would know the line of those shoulders, the elegant curve of her neck anywhere.

You.

His breath catches as you smile warmly at the young valet, sliding him what looks like a generous tip before slipping into the driver’s seat of the garish yellow Lamborghini and roaring off without a backwards glance.

Charles is still gaping after you, mouth slightly ajar, when the second valet appears at his side.

“Good evening, monsieur. Shall I park your car for you?”

He blinks dumbly for a moment before recovering. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Sliding the young man his own tip, Charles pivots on his heel and strides into the elegant dining room, mind whirling. Of all the cars in the world, he never would have pegged you for a Lamborghini person.

Then again, he clearly doesn’t know you like he thought he did. Not the new you, the version free of him and his betrayals.

He takes his usual table in the back corner, ordering an expensive Chianti before he can even glance at the menu. Tonight calls for relying on old vices. As he swirls the deep burgundy liquid, he finds himself drifting back to your matching crimson dress, how it clung to your curves in such a delicious way.

Even when you were furious with him, you could never quite hide the passion that smoldered underneath. Charles had spent many blissful nights stoking those flames, coaxing them into an all-consuming wildfire of want and need. He misses the scorching heat of your desire, your clever hands and wicked mouth setting his body ablaze.

He closes his eyes, letting the memory of your bare skin flush against his wash over him. Those nights of tangled limbs and breathy gasps, when nothing else mattered but struggling to get impossibly closer, as if your very beings could meld into one.

With a frustrated groan, Charles slams back the rest of his wine. What is he doing, torturing himself with memories of your lovemaking? You’ve clearly moved on to new chapters, new … cars. New everything, really.

And yet he can’t quite extinguish the gnawing sense of dissonance. A Lamborghini? Something so utterly over-the-top and desperate for attention just doesn’t seem like your style. You were always more understated … more elegant.

Not that it matters, he reminds himself firmly. Whatever choices you make now are no longer any of his business. He systematically strips away the judgements, the fragile sense of still knowing you intimately. After what he did, he sacrificed that right completely.

The waiter reappears with a fresh glass of wine and Charles takes it gratefully. He’s determined to focus on learning to untangle you from his thoughts and simply enjoy his evening. He came here for the ambiance, the food, the escape.

But no matter how he tries, your image keeps invading his mind’s eye — sliding into that sunshine yellow machine, stunning in that slinky red number and your lips curved in a contented smile. Content without him still lingering in the shadowed corners of your life.

And then it hits him like a slap across the face — you in that screaming yellow Lamborghini wasn’t about attention at all. It was the opposite — a declaration of fierce independence. Of staking your own claim, making your own flagrantly joyful choices without a care for his opinions or approval. Free from his reputation, his expectations, his name.

The realization is like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. You’ve remade yourself so thoroughly, forging a vibrant path that has absolutely nothing to do with him. While he’s been stuck in neutral, spinning his wheels and passively watching you soar out of reach.

A strange sense of loss washes over Charles. As badly as he’d wanted you to find your way again after his unforgivable betrayal, he can’t deny how disorienting it is to realize you’re not the same woman he fell in love with all those years ago.

You’re a new version, one he isn’t familiar with at all. One who makes choices and carries herself in a way he doubts he’ll ever fully understand, no matter how much he wishes he could go back and undo every selfish mistake that set these changes into motion.

Charles blinks against the unexpected sting in his eyes as he stares at the table. On some deeper level, he knows this remolding of your identity, this blossoming into someone both thrillingly unfamiliar yet unmistakably you, should be cause for celebration. It means you’re healing, leaving his mistakes in the past and coming into your own again in spite of his ugliest failures.

He just wishes he didn’t have to watch the entire metamorphosis from a distance.

***

Charles squints against the bright morning sunlight as he strides through the paddock towards his garage. A slight chill still clings to the air, promising another sweltering afternoon session once the sun reaches its peak. He adjusts his cap lower over his eyes, trying not to dwell too much on the practice times from yesterday. There’s still so much fine-tuning needed to find those crucial extra tenths of a second.

Passing by the Red Bull motorhome, a flash of familiar flowing hair catches his eye. Charles freezes mid-step, his heart stuttering. It couldn’t be … could it?

But then the figure moves fully into view and there’s no mistaking the delicate slope of your jaw and those cheekbones he knows as well as his own reflection. It’s definitely you, slipping inside the sleek facade of the Red Bull motorhome with an easy smile.

Charles blinks dumbly, certain his eyes must be playing tricks on him. Why in the world would you be going into the Red Bull motorhome? You never had any connection to their team or drivers before, back when ...

When you were still together.

Charles swallows hard, dragging his gaze away. He must have imagined it. Sometimes his subconscious still gets carried away, superimposing your presence into random moments or places like an echo of a life he can never return to. Seeing you here, intertwined with his racing world in some way, is just too improbable.

Shaking off the strange moment, he refocuses on the day ahead. But over the next two days, he can’t seem to avoid catching glimpses of you around the Red Bull garage and hospitality areas. There you are chatting with one of their engineers just outside their motorhome entrance. Then sharing a hushed conversation off to the side with their chief strategist.

Finally, on Sunday just before the race, he watches with raised eyebrows as you throw your head back laughing at something Max Verstappen says, the Red Bull driver’s own grin wide and appreciative.

Some sort of friendship surely couldn’t explain this level of access and familiarity could it? A sour knot of suspicion begins twisting in Charles’ gut. There’s no way … no way Max would ...

But he has to know.

As the Formula 1 circus begins packing up after the race, Charles spots you slipping away from the Red Bull group once more, clearly headed back to their closed-off sanctuary. He watches Max linger outside, fiddling idly with his cap as he waits.

It’s the perfect opportunity. Charles doesn’t even think, just lets his feet carry him across the crowded paddock until he’s standing across from his fellow driver.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The accusation comes out half-snarl before he can stop himself.

Max turns, eyebrows shooting up. “... Charles? What are you on about?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Charles jabs a finger back towards the motorhome you disappeared into. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been with her all weekend. How you two can’t seem to get enough of each other’s company.”

Realization dawns and Max actually has the audacity to laugh. “Wait … is this about Y/N? You jealous she’s been hanging around our team?”

White-hot fury lances through Charles and he has to grit his teeth against the heated words that want to come spilling out. “You think this is funny? Cozying up to my ex-fianceé less than a year after I lost her? What, you couldn’t find someone else so you had to go after her?”

Max shakes his head slowly, clearly fighting to keep his expression neutral. “Damn … I didn’t realize the great Charles Leclerc makes the rules on who Y/N can associate with these days.”

The blatant dismissal in his tone is like a physical slap. Charles recoils slightly before squaring his shoulders. “Don’t turn this around on me. I know what I saw, how cozy you two were-”

“Easy there, tiger.” Max cuts him off, holding up one hand placatingly. “First of all, Y/N and I are just friends. I happen to have my own gorgeous girlfriend, but thanks for looking out.”

He pauses, letting the implication that Charles is being irrational and out-of-line sink in. When Charles doesn’t immediately retort, Max continues.

“Second … you seem to have conveniently forgotten that you’re the one who threw away your life with Y/N. The one who cheated and broke her heart. You don’t get to dictate a damn thing about who she spends time with or how she chooses to live her life now.”

The words slam into Charles with brutal force, knocking the breath from his lungs. Because Max is right — he has no claim here, no right to make assumptions or demands. Not after what he did.

Seeming to sense he’s scored a direct hit, Max shakes his head again. “Look, I get it’s probably hard watching her move on fully, start over without you. But that’s on you, not her. You’re going to have to learn to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”

The quiet truth in his voice is like a white-hot brand. Charles swallows hard, suddenly incapable of meeting Max’s level gaze.

“Then … then why has she been around your team so much?” It comes out sounding more petulant than he intended, a desperate scramble to regain some levity. “If she’s not … you know ...”

Max huffs out a soft laugh, stooping to retrieve his discarded cap. “That answer isn’t mine to give.” He slides it back on, fixing Charles with one last searching look. “But if I had to guess? She’s putting herself first now. Pursuing her own path, one that has nothing to do with you anymore.”

He turns towards the Red Bull motorhome, tossing his final phrase over his shoulder. “I’d get used to it, if I were you.”

Charles watches him disappear inside, leaving him rooted in place and feeling completely lost. The crowd continues to disperse around him, teams and personnel breaking down equipment and packing things away.

Yet Max’s words keep ricocheting through his mind on an endless loop.

She’s pursuing her own path now. One that has nothing to do with you anymore.

It makes perfect sense of course — the laughter, the camaraderie, the ease of her presence in Red Bull’s inner sanctum. The seamless way she navigated their ecosystem all weekend long while Charles remained oblivious.

Because you’ve fully remade your entire existence into one that no longer intersects with his whatsoever.

As the paddock slowly empties around him, Charles finally forces one foot in front of the other, his legs feeling like overcooked noodles. Part of him wants to stick around until you reemerge, to demand that you explain this bold new reality you’ve carved out.

But what would be the point? You don’t owe him any explanations, any part of your life now. Those days are over, gone forever thanks to his own bone-deep failings.

So he keeps walking, leaving you and your mystery behind. After all, hadn’t you made it crystal clear from the very beginning?

This was your path to reclaim now, a future that was yours and yours alone to chase.

***

Charles frowns down at the envelope in his hand as he pushes open the door to his apartment, his mind still half-focused on the looming Austrian Grand Prix. The return address is from some high-end clothing boutique in Paris, but it’s the name neatly printed below that makes his heart stutter.

Y/N Y/L/N.

For a long moment, he simply stands there in the entryway, turning the innocent envelope over and over in his hands. How did this slip through the cracks and wind up here, at what used to be your shared home before everything combusted?

He traces the graceful swoop of your name with one finger, memories flickering through his mind’s eye. Coming home from races to find you curled up on the sofa with the latest fashion magazines scattered around you, making notes in the margins. Or catching you in the huge walk-in closet the two of you designed together, carefully hanging up some new couture purchase with a reverent touch.

You always did have impeccable taste. Charles can’t even find it in himself to judge the fancy Parisian boutique’s stationary now clutched in his hands.

Making a split-second decision, he spins on his heel and heads right back out the door, letter in hand. If this innocuous slip of mail made its way here by some shipping error, it’s the perfect excuse to … what? See you again? Try to explain himself one more time?

He’s not sure, but either way, the pull to seek you out is utterly irresistible now that this connection has fallen into his lap. Charles makes it two blocks before realizing with a start that he has absolutely no idea where you’re living these days.

The logical side of his brain reminds him he could simply call or text to get your new address and make arrangements to pass the letter along. But the thought of such mundane formalities after all this time, after the way things were upended so brutally, is laughable.

So instead he lets his feet guide him towards the upscale apartment building you lived in before moving into his place. There’s a chance the leasing office might have a forwarding address on file he can use. A small voice whispers that this is almost certainly a futile quest, that you’ve no doubt successfully untangled every last thread of your life from his.

But he has to try.

The lobby is blessedly quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and foot traffic he remembers from past visits. Charles straightens his shoulders and approaches the front desk, where a youngish woman with a bright smile greets him.

“Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m actually trying to track down the new address for a former tenant — Y/N Y/L/N?” He carefully pencils in the last name, watching as the woman’s face scrunches in thought for a beat before her eyes widen in recognition.

“Of course, Mademoiselle Y/L/N. One moment.”

She taps efficiently at her computer, scanning whatever information has popped up on the screen. Just watching her work makes Charles’ heart kick up its rhythm in nervous anticipation.

“Ah, yes, here we are. It seems Mademoiselle Y/L/N moved out around three months ago. She actually left instructions for any further mail that slips through to be forwarded to ...”

She pauses, glancing up at Charles with newfound curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Are you a relative, sir? Mademoiselle Y/L/N requested her new address only be released to family.”

“I’m … an old friend,” he answers carefully, unsure if that bends the truth too far or not. “We used to be very close.”

The woman’s polite smile dims ever-so-slightly at his choice of words, like she can read the subtext loud and clear. Used to be very close … until he completely obliterated that closeness.

“I see,” she says neutrally. “Well, in that case, I’m afraid I can’t provide her new contact details without explicit permission. But the residents currently leasing her old unit have been directly forwarding any mail to her, if that would help?”

It’s not ideal, but a frustratingly belated realization stops Charles from arguing further — you clearly requested your whereabouts be kept private now, at least from him. Probably a wise decision, all things considered.

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

She rattles off the apartment number and Charles commits it to memory with a polite nod before turning to leave. As he crosses the airy lobby once more, he can’t resist glancing up towards the corner unit he knows was yours, absently wondering if someone else’s belongings line those shelves now, if there are new photos or mementos dotting the surfaces where yours once stood.

He shakes off the melancholy pang — you’ve forged an entirely new existence somewhere far away. Of course your old place has been repopulated, just like all the love you breathed into it has dissipated like smoke.

The apartment door opens after the third solid knock, revealing a twenty-something woman with a confused furrow in her brow. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m actually here about a piece of mail for the previous tenant? The front desk said to bring it here.” Charles quickly proffers the letter before she can raise further objections or shut the door in his face completely.

“Oh.” She accepts it hesitantly, turning it over in her hands just like Charles had done earlier. “Yeah, the last tenant did leave instructions for stuff like this, now that you mention it ...”

She trails off, eyes narrowing slightly as she studies him more intently. He knows that look, can pinpoint the exact moment realization blossoms.

“Wait … you’re not Charles Leclerc, are you?”

So much for anonymity. He opens his mouth, fully prepared to deny and deflect as the tension stretches between them-

“Oh my god, you are!” The young woman actually gasps, one hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes go saucer-wide. “I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you. I mean, sorry about … you know. That entire situation with Y/N. My boyfriend is such a fan of yours though, I can’t even-”

“It’s alright,” Charles cuts her off on pure instinct, the words rushing out in a bid to stem the conversational swerve that’s clearly brewing. “I actually stopped by to pass that letter along, but also see if there’s a current address where I could reach Y/N? Perhaps send her things directly from now on.”

His polite inquiry has the desired effect — the woman’s starry-eyed expression shutters again as she refocuses. “Ah, well, about that … Y/N asked for anything like this to be forwarded to an address in Austria once she moved there. Let me grab that for you.”

Charles waits in silence as she ducks back inside, busying herself with finding the details. Austria? Of all places, why would you have relocated to-

“Got it.” She reappears, a small slip of paper in her outstretched hand. “This is where you can send anything for Y/N. Though I obviously don’t know all the details about … you know. Your situation.”

He takes the slip without comment, just a curt nod of acknowledgement. The woman rocks back on her heels, worrying her lower lip slightly.

“For what it’s worth … I think it’s really cool you’ve tried to stay in contact, you know? Even after everything. That’s commitment.”

Her sincere tone grates against the ugly truth they’re both tap-dancing around — that he’s the one who torched your commitment beyond repair with his selfish actions.

“Thanks,” is all he can muster, already turning away and pocketing the slip of paper with your new Austrian address before she can say anything further.

As he retraces his steps to the ground floor, Charles finds himself clutching the envelope even tighter, knuckles going white. So you’ve fled all the way to Austria now, put an entire nation’s length between your old life and whatever rising present you’re building. No wonder you didn’t want your location breathed to just anyone, let alone the man who detonated your world.

Well, he got what he came for in more ways than one. He has your new address now, the roadmap to whatever path you’ve started down without him sketched out in his hands. Part of him longs to deviate from his own schedule and just … show up, uninvited, on your new doorstep. To try and explain himself, or at least attempt to understand what grander journey you’ve embarked on.

But the same voice that cautioned him earlier rings out once more — you’ve made it perfectly clear you want to sever any remaining ties or connections to him, no matter how tenuous. Perhaps out of necessity to fully heal or simply because you’re done having any part of Charles Leclerc tarnish your horizons any longer.

Either way, you’ve spoken through your silence and distance. Chasing you down now, while perhaps gratifying a selfish impulse of his own, would only disrespect the boundaries you’ve erected.

As Charles reaches his car and slides in behind the wheel, he can’t resist rereading the brief string of characters and numbers that make up your new address. He commits them to memory, sketching out a crude map in his mind’s eye of where exactly this secluded town lies in the looping alpine valleys and mountain peaks.

Part of him longs to program the coordinates into his GPS immediately, to seek you out while this connection still blazes hot and bright between you. But harsh realities keep crashing in — the Austrian Grand Prix is only days away, his own commitments and schedule unforgiving.

No, the wise choice would be to simply send the wayward letter on to its intended destination. To let you live in peace, unburdened by his disruptive presence any longer.

As Charles fires up the engine and eases out onto the main street, he catches one last glimpse of your old apartment building shrinking in the rearview mirror. He thinks of the wide-eyed woman’s parting comment about “commitment” and has to laugh bitterly.

Commitment is precisely what he failed to uphold, the whispered promises he shattered into pieces with his own calloused hands. You owe him no further explanations, no more fragments of yourself after he decimated the love you shared.

The seconds will stretch on towards the next race, the next city, the next routine of focused preparation. But part of Charles’ mind will linger in that small Austrian town, caught in the mystery of the new life you’ve built.

A life he has no right to reinsert himself into, not anymore. All he can do is wish you well from a distance and keep putting kilometers between you with every spin of his tires.

Kilometers and kilometers of regret.

***

Charles stares down at the navigation screen, his thumb hovering over the go button. This is ridiculous — completely irrational and just begging for disaster. He has no business showing up unannounced like this, disrupting whatever new life you’ve so carefully constructed.

And yet … the Austrian address you have been forwarding mail to is already programmed in, glowing softly with the swipe of his finger. He could be there in just over nine hours, barring any major delays on the route into Salzburg province.

His mind races, cycling through every logical argument for abandoning this reckless idea immediately. You’re entitled to your privacy, your fresh start far away from the wreckage he created. Anything more would be him selfishly barging back into your existence, the one place he swore to never intrude again.

Against his better judgement, Charles swipes the go button. Almost instantly, the robotic voice begins spouting turn-by-turn directions, the path to your doorstep stretching out in vivid digital detail.

What’s done is done. He’ll simply … take it one step at a time.

The winding Alpine roads are a marvel of feats in civil engineering, the roadways expertly carved into the towering rock faces in sweeping vistas. Even Charles, who has logged countless miles of serpentine racetracks and courses around the globe, can’t help admiring the impossible scenery whipping past.

Evergreen forests give way to snow-capped peaks reaching into the crisp blue sky. ancient castles and towering church spires alike keep popping into view around each new switchback turn. He can’t shake the nagging sense that this entire region is something ripped from the pages of a storybook, a landscape too perfectly picturesque to be real.

Which is perhaps why the sight of the enormous wrought-iron gates materializing up ahead doesn’t immediately faze him at all.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS chirps pleasantly as Charles slows the Ferrari, trying to comprehend the sprawling estate now stretching out before him. This can’t possibly be right, can it?

Lush gardens and perfectly manicured shrubbery serpentine around the perimeter in intricate geometric patterns, eventually yielding to an emerald green meadow dotted with ancient growth trees. A gravel path splits the sweeping lawns up ahead, clearly carving a wide berth around … is that an actual lakehouse?

Charles blinks in stunned stupor, instinctively searching for some sort of address marker or sign as he creeps up the main drive towards the gates. Instead, his eyes are drawn to the imposing manor itself, all honey-colored stone and arched windows that wouldn’t look out of place in a Renaissance fresco. Turrets and spires spiral upwards towards the cloudless sky, practically winking in the summer sunshine.

This has to be some colossal mistake.

He’s fully prepared to simply turn around and peel back out of this fairytale estate when the crackle of a speaker breaks the silence.

“Hallo? This is a private residence. Please identify yourself and state your business.” The clipped, accented words carry an undeniable tone of authority.

Shit. Charles swallows hard against his suddenly dry throat, throwing the car into park as he leans towards the callbox mounted on the ivy-laced exterior wall.

“Ah, yes, hello … my name is Charles Leclerc. I’m actually here to-” He breaks off, fresh uncertainty bubbling up. He’s here to what, exactly? Catch a glimpse of the new life you’ve created? Throw himself at your feet and beg forgiveness once more?

“One moment, please,” the disembodied voice instructs crisply before the line goes dead silent once more.

Charles sits back, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. He should go, right now before this reaches the point of no return. He could simply turn around, act like this was all some misguided joke and leave you undisturbed. It’s the mature, sensible choice.

Instead, his pulse kicks up into a furious gallop as the massive front gates begin slowly grinding open with a metal groan, clear invitation to proceed. Charles doesn’t move for a long beat, waiting for the second half of the intercom to bark out a warning, for security to appear and politely hustle him off the premises.

But nothing. The gates yawn open further, revealing the full splendor of the estate lying in wait beyond.

Before he can think better of it, Charles eases the Ferrari forward. The crunch of the pale gravel beneath his tires seems to echo off the looming stone walls as he winds deeper into the property, the boundaries blurring between reality and a dreamscape more suited for the silver screen.

Finally, he rounds the last curve and the manor in its full glory stretches out before him. Every inch of the sprawling facade is a carved, architectural marvel — from the polished lintels to the intricate mouldings encircling each enormous window and doorway.

He kills the engine and simply sits there, once again grappling with unprecedented uncertainty. What was he thinking, assuming he could just brazenly roll up and … what? Vent months worth of grievances and miscommunications in a casual chat? As if the life you’ve so clearly cultivated here could ever intersect with his own beaten path again?

Charles climbs out of the car on legs that seem determined to wobble out from under him. He’s vaguely aware of the thunder of footsteps on stone before one of the massive oak front doors swings wide and a figure fills the entryway.

“Charles Leclerc, I presume?” The man’s sharp tone instantly catches Charles off guard. He’s younger than expected, perhaps mid-thirties, with an athletic build and carefully groomed dark hair. Despite the informal lounge pants and linen shirt, an unmistakable air of assurance rolls off him in waves.

“Er … yes. Hello.” Charles hears the uncertainty edging into his own greeting, quickly scrambling to fill the conversational pause. “I didn’t realize Y/N had … household staff now.”

The words are out before he can fully snatch them back. The man’s expression doesn’t so much as flicker, but there’s suddenly a tension charging the space between them that has Charles’ palms prickling with sweat.

“I’ll inform her you’ve arrived,” the man says at last, his intense gaze scanning over Charles slowly from head to toe.

Is that judgment blending into the appraisal? Regardless, Charles feels abruptly self-conscious — he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of such frank scrutiny today. But then again, he’s the one who inserted himself into unknown territory here.

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the receiving hall?” The open doorway and subtle tilt of the man’s head is clear invitation, one Charles has no choice but to mutely accept.

He climbs the three stairs to the arched entrance, pausing just before the threshold to turn back with furrowed brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your-”

“Mark.” The reply is clipped but courteous enough, at least. “Y/N should be down shortly.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and disappears through the foyer, leaving Charles to hover there alone for a beat too long before finally stepping across the threshold. Each footfall on the gleaming marble seems to ricochet off the domed ceiling above, bouncing back in mocking echoes.

As his gaze travels around the cavernous space, roving over the hanging art and intricate tilework, Charles can’t quite bite back the breathless huff of amazement.

Where in the actual hell are you living, Y/N?

***

Charles follows a step behind Mark as the other man leads them deeper into the estate. He can’t resist craning his neck, taking in every jaw-dropping detail — the soaring archways, the intricate brickwork, the Venetian plaster and artworks adorning the walls.

It’s the art itself that begins nagging at him first. Charles frowns slightly as they pass yet another larger-than-life canvas, this one emblazoned with the distinctive Red Bull logo and colors. Then a series of framed photographs, all seeming to depict different angles and events tied to the racing team.

“You must be quite a fan of Red Bull,” he finds himself commenting as they round a corner.

Mark half-turns, one eyebrow quirked. “You could say that.”

There’s an undercurrent to his tone that Charles can’t quite put his finger on. Before he can pry further, they emerge into some sort of sitting room or receiving area, the walls giving way to a bright, airy ambiance.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Mark gestures towards one of the plush sofas arranged in the center of the space. “I’ll have the staff inform Y/N you’re here.”

Charles nods, still trying to absorb the sheer opulence around him as he takes a seat. How in the world did you find yourself situated in a place like this? The nagging questions about Mark’s potential connection to the Red Bull team continue to swirl.

He’s pulled from his ruminations by the sound of your voice filtering down the hallway, breezing and melodic as ever.

“Babe? You down here?”

Charles stiffens instinctively at the endearment, his eyes snapping over to where Mark is casually lounging back against the opposite sofa. There’s no missing the tender smile playing across the other man’s lips.

“In the sitting room, liebling. We have a guest.”

The teasing lilt in his response has Charles’ skin prickling with something he can’t quite identify. He rises halfway as your footsteps grow nearer, not wanting to seem rude by remaining fully seated.

“Oh, a guest! Who-”

You sweep into the room still chattering away cheerfully, entirely oblivious until your gaze finally lands squarely on Charles. The breath punches out of you in a surprised rush, your entire body going rigid as the words die on your lips.

For an endless heartbeat, you simply stare at Charles, motionless but for the slight part of your lips. He watches as a faint flush blossoms high on your cheekbones, long lashes fluttering rapidly.

“... Charles? What are you doing here?”

He blinks dumbly at the sound of your voice, hushed with disbelief yet still so familiar after all this time. “I … you got a letter. From Paris, I think. It arrived at our — at my old place by mistake.”

Cursing his stammering, Charles reaches automatically for his inner jacket pocket, fumbling until he can produce the crumpled envelope bearing your name. “I didn’t know if other things might keep getting sent there, so I thought ...”

He trails off lamely, unable to properly articulate the impulse that propelled him all this way. To deliver one measly piece of mail? To re-establish some connection, no matter how fragile? He realizes with a start that you’ve moved closer, extending one hand to gently accept the letter from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur, eyes momentarily skittering away from his probing gaze. “That was very considerate.”

The moment stretches out, silence expanding in the cavernous space. Charles watches as your free hand flutters unconsciously upwards to fiddle with the collar of your shirt, struggling to find his voice once more.

“I didn’t realize you had, ah … you had a place like this now.” His attempt at nonchalance is so piss-poor he wants to cringe. “And … company, I suppose?”

A delicate snort from the other side of the room reminds Charles he’s not alone with you. His gaze snaps over to find Mark watching the exchange with an inquisitive smirk, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“Company?” He echoes the word airily, igniting a fresh bloom of color in your cheeks. “This must be terribly confusing for you.”

In one seamless motion, Mark unfolds himself from the sofa and crosses the short distance to your side, slipping one possessive arm around your waist. The intimacy of the gesture has Charles’ mouth going dry.

“Allow me to clarify — I’m Mark. Mark Mateschitz.” The subtle emphasis on the surname hits Charles like a bucket of ice water, comprehension crashing over him in waves.

“Mateschitz?” He hears himself repeating dumbly. “As in … Dietrich Mateschitz? The founder of Red Bull?”

Mark’s grin stretches into something wolfishly triumphant at Charles’ stunned expression. “The very same. My father.”

He lets the implication expand in the silence barreling down on them from all sides. Charles numbly finds the nearest armchair and sinks into it, struggling to fully process the revelation.

Of course. All the Red Bull imagery and iconography made so much more sense now. This sprawling, palatial estate clearly belonged to the family behind the team and brand, the multinational empire. Which meant … you weren’t simply a friendly acquaintance chumming around the Red Bull garages.

No, you were with the actual Mateschitz heir, the current co-owner of the goddamn company himself.

The sound of you softly clearing your throat breaks through his whirling thoughts. When Charles glances up, the vision that greets him is like a vise around his heart — you and Mark cuddled close together on the loveseat, his arm still looped possessively around your waist as you toy absently with the ends of his dark hair. Two people radiating intimacy and comfort, completely at home in one another’s embrace.

“We met during a Wings for Life charity run, actually,” you offer at last, almost as an olive branch. “We just … hit it off, I suppose. One thing led to another and … well, here we are.”

Mark’s fingers trail in a barely-there caress up and down your arm as you speak, his gaze locked adoringly on your profile. The look is so tender, so inescapably fond that it makes Charles’ chest constrict painfully.

“She’s a force of nature,” Mark says simply, the corners of his eyes crinkling with quiet mirth. “What else could I do but get caught up in her orbit?”

A flush blossoms high on your cheeks, but you don’t turn away, holding Mark’s fond gaze steadily. In that moment, the love you two share is almost a tangible force, shimmering and alive in the air between you. It’s beautiful and devastating all at once.

“I, uh, I should go.” The words leave Charles in a dazed mumble before he can reconsider. He rises abruptly, needing to create space between himself and the intimacies unfolding so easily in front of him.

As if snapping out of a reverie, you look up sharply. “Charles, wait-”

“No, really, it’s fine.” He tries valiantly to paste on a casual smile, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Thank you again for … well, you know. I’m sure I can see myself out.”

Turning on his heel, Charles makes it no more than two strides before your voice stops him once more, tinged with gentle exasperation.

“That’s the library you’re heading for. Here, let me ...”

You gently disentangle yourself from Mark’s embrace and cross the room towards a different set of double doors. Charles watches in silence as you lead the way through winding hallway after hallway with an effortless grace. Of course you know the layout of this palatial mansion like the back of your hand — this is your home now, your life.

The thought churns bitterly in his gut even as you both finally reach the arched front entrance. You turn back to face him, mouth twisting in that familiar apologetic quirk he knows so well.

“Listen, I know this was … unexpected. And maybe not the easiest thing to process.” You huff out a soft laugh, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear almost shyly. “But I’m glad you stopped by, despite everything. It was … nice to see you again.”

He blinks dumbly, at a loss for words in the face of your warm sincerity. This entire interaction has been an avalanche of emotions — the shock of discovering your romantic entanglement with the Mateschitz heir, the painful pang of watching you two’s intimacy on display, and now the remnants of affection in your tone as you bid him farewell.

It’s simply … too much. Too many conflicting feelings to deal with when his heart still bears the scar tissue of your break up.

“You too,” is all he can manage in return, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. “I, uh … I should get going if I want to make it to Spielberg before media day.”

You nod, seeming to understand his unspoken need to retreat and regroup. “Of course. Well, safe travels then.”

“We’ll see you at the Red Bull Ring,” Mark pipes up from behind you, his voice cutting through the tension with surprising joviality. “It is our home race this weekend, after all. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The reminder that you’ll be perpetually woven into the fabric of his racing life from now on hits Charles with the force of a gut punch. He swallows hard, bobbing his head in acknowledgement as you open the front door for him.

“Looking forward to it,” he lies through his teeth before turning on his heel and all but fleeing down the front steps.

He’s vaguely aware of you calling out something about having someone escort him through the grounds and to the main gate. But Charles doesn’t pause, can’t stop until he’s directed the powerful Ferrari back out onto the main roads and open air.

Only then does he finally let out the shuddering breath he’d been holding, the sweet Alpine breezes sweeping over him. He floors the accelerator, putting as much distance between himself and that fairytale estate as possible.

But no matter how fast or far he drives, he can’t outrun the image searing into his mind’s eye — you nestled so contentedly in Mark’s arms, so visibly adored and cherished. Just as you’d once been cradled in Charles’ own embrace, before he burned everything to ashes.

Blinking hard against the hot sting in his eyes, Charles white-knuckles the steering wheel and lets the endless stretches of winding road unfurl before him. There’s only one direction now — forward.

Always forward.

No looking back, no wistful what-ifs allowed. You’ve found the life and love you deserve after he shattered your world.

All he can do is wish you nothing but joy from a distance, even as his own heart disintegrates inside his chest with every step further away from you.

***

The bass line thrums through Charles’ body like a living thing as he signals for another round at the club’s private VIP bar. He can barely make out the sound of his own thoughts over the pulsating music, but that’s rather the point tonight. To drown out the ceaseless reel of memories and fragmented realizations in a haze of liquor and pounding rhythms.

“You sure about that?” The bartender has to shout to be heard, one sculpted eyebrow arching upwards as she eyes the growing collection of empty glasses. “I think you’ve had quite enough, sir.”

“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough,” Charles snaps back, the words slurring slightly as he slaps his platinum card down with more force than intended. “Just keep them coming.”

The woman’s dubious gaze flickers briefly to somewhere over his shoulder before she simply shrugs and moves to fill his latest order. Charles slumps forward with a harsh exhale, fingers digging into his sweat-dampened curls as the relentless bassline reverberates through his bones.

“Easy there, calamar.”

The familiar voice cuts through the noise as a firm hand clasps his shoulder. Pierre slides into the open stool beside him with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“I’m starting to think my invite for a fun night out may have been a mistake.” His eyes rove over the staggering collection of empty glasses and bottles before lifting to meet Charles’ glazed stare.

“Or more like a cry for help,” he mutters, pitching his voice to be heard clearly. “Want to talk about what’s got you in such a mood?”

Charles opens his mouth but all that comes out is a bitter bark of laughter. He reaches for his newly-arrived glass, downing half the amber liquid in one go as it burns all the way to his core.

“What’s there to talk about?” The words are thick and unwieldy on his tongue. “She’s gone. Moved on better than I ever could have with some … some rich prick who treats her like his personal princess.”

He waves a sloppy hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Guy is richer than God, probably spoils her rotten with jewels and furs and … and billion dollar villas overlooking the Alps.”

His voice cracks slightly on the last word and he has to blink rapidly against the unwelcome sting in his eyes. Pierre’s forehead creases further as he watches Charles raggedly drain the rest of his glass.

“I take it your little meeting with Y/N didn’t go well?” He pitches it as a careful question, one Charles shrugs listlessly at before reaching for the nearest full glass. Pierre’s hand shoots out, closing around Charles’ wrist to impede his progress.

“I think you’ve had quite enough of that for one night,” he declares firmly. “Unless you want security dragging your drunk ass out of here, that is.”

Charles tries feebly to tug his arm free but Pierre’s grip remains vise-like. His traitorous thoughts drift back to the image of Mark’s arm so casually looped around your waist, confident in his place at your side.

“What’s he got that I don’t?” The plaintive question slips out before he can bite it back. Charles swivels glassy eyes towards his friend and teammate. “Seriously, Pierre … what can Mateschitz offer her that I couldn’t?”

A heavy silence stretches out between them, punctuated only by the thunderous pulse of the music. Pierre holds his stare steadily, clearly weighing how much harsh truth Charles can handle in his current condition.

“Well … thirty-seven billion dollars is a decent start, I would guess.”

The matter-of-fact words hit like a sucker punch to the gut. Charles flinches as if physically struck, mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ of shock.

“Jesus, have some tact,” Pierre continues crisply. “Forget the money for a second — mate, he didn’t cheat on her. He has the basic decency to stay faithful. You know … the bare minimum requirement for a relationship?”

The dig bites deep, sparking a fresh flare of white-hot shame and regret in Charles’ core. He twists his captured wrist futilely once more before giving up and dropping his head to thunk dully against the bartop.

“I thought we were past rubbing salt in the wound,” he mumbles towards the gleaming wood surface.

Pierre sighs, his grip softening enough to pull his arm free at last. “We are, we are … mostly. But you can’t honestly expect me to sit here and help you feel sorry for yourself about another man treating Y/N right after you treated her so abysmally.”

Charles squeezes his eyes shut as your face swims into focus. The light in your eyes when Mark gazed at you, the simple intimacy you radiated together ...

“I miss her,” he whispers, each word carved from shards of anguish and loss. “I miss her so damn much. And now every time I have to see her at a race or schmoozing at an event, I’ll know exactly what I threw away for one night of selfishness.”

Fat tears leak from the corners of his screwed-shut eyes, tracing hot pathways down his cheeks as Pierre watches silently. After a long stretch, Charles finally cracks one eye open to peer blearily at his friend once more.

“I need to win her back,” he declares with as much conviction as he can muster through the alcoholic fog seeping into his brain. “I’m not over her, I’ll never be over her. There has to be a way to … to make things right again, don’t you think?”

Pierre regards him steadily, arms folded across his chest. “I think … you’re drunk off your ass and in no state to be making grand romantic gestures tonight.”

Charles waves a clumsy hand, nearly toppling his remaining drink in the process. “Not tonight. But … soon. Yeah, soon I’ll figure out what her new favorite flower is or some shit. Maybe a nice bottle of whatever top-shelf champagne she likes these days. Or … or I can dedicate a race win to her! Girls go gaga over that romantic shit, right?”

He watches Pierre’s expression morph into one of pure incredulity before his friend pinches the bridge of his nose hard, eyes screwing shut with a shake of his head.

“You’re not even hearing yourself right now, are you?” Pierre asks at last, infusing as much patience into his words as possible. “This isn’t about some flowers or a bottle of bubbly or delusionally thinking you have a chance to beat Red Bull this season. You completely decimated her trust in you and demolished the entire foundation of your relationship.”

Charles squirms uncomfortably at the brutal truth. Part of him wants to get up and stalk away in a final burst of tipsy petulance.

But the rest of him knows Pierre is simply being the voice of reason — the harsh reality check he so desperately needs right now, despite how it slices into his wounded pride.

“Look ...” Pierre seems to sense he’s veering into dangerous territory and softens his tone slightly. “I’m not trying to kick you while you’re down, I swear. But any chance of reconciling with Y/N will require so much more than a thoughtless grand gesture or gift.”

Slowly, Charles lifts his bleary gaze and locks eyes with his friend. Pierre holds the stare steadily, mouth set in a solemn line.

“It’ll take rebuilding the bedrock of your foundation — time, effort, and trust. Things you can’t buy or speed along, no matter how much you try.” A heavy pause settles between them before Pierre speaks again, more gently this time. “Maybe reconnecting with her is possible one day … or maybe not. But you owe it to her and yourself to give space for those open wounds to heal first.”

It’s not at all what Charles wants to hear right now. His instinct is still to barrel forward, to blaze a path of extravagant overtures until you melt back into his arms. But deep down, he knows Pierre is speaking the truth — he systematically torched something sacred and attempting to simply spackle over that devastation would be spitting in the face of your shared past.

Nodding slowly, Charles reaches up to swipe clumsily at the dampness on his cheeks. Pierre places a steadying hand on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“Come on, idiot. Let’s get you home before you really embarrass yourself out here.”

Charles doesn’t protest as Pierre slips off his stool and hauls him upright, looping one arm securely around his waist for support. As they navigate the pulsing crowd, he steals one last glimpse over his shoulder at the bar now shrinking away in the distance.

Perhaps this part of his story with you might be over, the final embers snuffed out. But somehow, some way, Charles vows to rekindle that spark again — even if it takes immeasurable time and effort to nurture it back from the smoldering ashes of his own making.

One thing is certain, though — any path forward will require him to douse these wallowing flames of self-pity first.

The pounding bass fades into a dull throb as Pierre guides them out into the cool night air. Charles blinks rapidly, the city’s twinkling lights swimming dizzily before his bleary eyes as his friend bundles him into the backseat of a waiting car.

“Just let me sleep it off,” he slurs as the plush leather seats engulf him. “I’ll be good as new in the morning.”

Pierre huffs out a wry chuckle as he slides in beside Charles, rapping his knuckles on the privacy partition to signal the driver. “Yeah, we’ll see about that. Once you’re properly re-hydrated and that tequila has run its course.”

The motion of the town car pulling away from the curb has Charles’ head lolling back against the headrest. He cracks one eye open to peer at his friend through his disheveled curls.

“I really do love her, you know?” The confession emerges soft and subdued, loaded with naked yearning. “Like … the love of my entire whole damn life, probably. How fucking stupid is that?”

He’s not sure if the dampness blurring his vision is from a fresh wave of moisture or simply the alcohol still sloshing through his system. Either way, Pierre’s gaze softens imperceptibly as he reaches out to give Charles’ knee a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ve all been certifiably stupid in the name of love before, believe me. The key is learning from those mistakes before moving forward.” A beat passes before he adds, “And for the record — I know you did love Y/N with everything you had, even when you monumentally fucked things up.”

Charles lets his eyes slip shut once more with a slow nod. “Then you know why I can’t just … let her go completely. Why I need to find a way to get back to her, even if takes years of making things right first.”

The words hang heavy between them, a tangled thicket of resolution and remorse. Finally, Pierre exhales a soft sigh.

“I know. But that’s a bridge to cross another day, when you’re sober and can actually string two coherent thoughts together.” He gives Charles’ shoulder a light shove. “For now, focus on putting one foot in front of the other and staying hydrated, yeah?”

Despite himself, the corners of Charles’ lips quirk upwards at his friend’s gentle ribbing. He fumbles blindly for the window switch, lowering the glass to allow a blessed gust of fresh air to roll in and fill the cabin.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Just … don’t hold your breath on me moving on anytime soon.” His eyes flicker open once more to meet Pierre’s steady gaze. “I’m kind of stubborn that way when it comes to the things I want most.”

Pierre holds his stare for a long beat before giving a slow shake of his head, a wry smile tugging at his own lips. “Believe me, mate — I’m well aware.”

They lapse into companionable silence for the remainder of the drive, the city’s twinkling skyline gliding past in a blur. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol still sloshing through his veins, a flicker of hope rekindles in Charles’ chest.

You might have slipped from his grasp, but that doesn’t necessarily mean your paths can’t someday and somehow intersect once more.

All it will take is the courage to keep inching forward, one stumbling step at a time.

No matter how many times the darkness tries to swallow him whole.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as Charles kills the engine, the high-pitched cheers swelling to near-riotous levels.

He tips his head back against the headrest for a beat, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. P2 at the Singapore Grand Prix isn’t cause for disappointment — he drove one hell of a race and pushed his machinery to its limits.

But the unbridled pandemonium echoing all around paints a stark reminder that second-place means precious little tonight.

As he cracks open his helmet visor, the screams seem to multiply tenfold. Charles squints against the blinding flash of a thousand camera flashes as the feverish celebration kicks into high gear. Of course the crowd is whipped into such a frenzy — a certain Dutchman has done it again.

Max Verstappen just secured his fourth consecutive World Drivers’ Championship.

Charles watches almost numbly as a swarm of bodies in dark blue coverings rushes the track. The Red Bull mechanics, crew members, and team management spill out in an ever expanding tide, swarming towards parc fermé. All desperate for their piece of history, to bask in the glory of their latest accomplishment.

Bracing one hand against the sweltering engine cover, Charles hauls himself up and out of the cockpit with as much energy as he can muster. He plants his feet wide on the sizzling asphalt, scanning the chaos overtaking the pit lane in search of … there.

You cut an unmistakable figure in understated elegance among the churning sea of navy. Even from here, Charles can make out the burgundy sheath dress clinging to your curves, the soft tendrils of hair escaping your chignon. You’re a vision wreathed in smiles as you follow closely behind Mark, the two of you buffeted but undeterred as you fight against the tide of bodies.

For a split second, Charles allows himself the simple indulgence of drinking in your radiance. Seeing the way your cheeks bloom with color from the heat and exhilaration. How your delighted laughter seems to sparkle in the humid night air, mingling seamlessly with the roars of jubilation.

You’re so clearly drunk on the evening’s euphoria, caught up in the intoxicating thrill of witnessing sheer greatness on display. Even standing halfway across the track, Charles can sense the infectious joy rolling off you in waves.

He’s always loved seeing you like this — passionate and alive in a way that sets his heart pounding. Though he knows now, with a ferocious ache, that particular spark isn’t for him anymore.

As if to underscore the point, Mark suddenly grinds to a halt right in the middle of the sea of revelers. You plow into his back with a breathless giggle, clearly caught off guard. That’s when Charles notices the obvious struggle as you try to regain your footing, wobbling precariously atop a set of wicked-looking stilettos.

Even from this distance, he can read the brief look of concern that pinches Mark’s brow as he turns towards you. The chaos of the celebration fades into background noise as Charles watches helplessly as Mark reaches for your arm to help steady you.

You wave him off with a warm smile, clearly unbothered as you simply shrug out of the towering heels completely. Mark lunges to catch the discarded shoes before they can get swallowed up by the crowd.

There’s a brief pause as the two of you seem to communicate wordlessly. Then, in one smooth motion, Mark pivots and crouches down in front of you, gesturing towards his broad back. Your laughter rings out bright and delighted as you clamber on, effortlessly looping your arms around his neck as he straightens with a grunt.

Just like that, you’re ensconced within the protective circle of Mark’s arms, held securely in place on his back as he continues walking through the celebrating crowd. From his vantage point, Charles can just make out the matching beams you both have plastered on as you sway happily with each step.

It looks so … easy. Natural and uncomplicated in a way Charles’ entire existence seems incapable of obtaining these days. He drinks in the vision of you nuzzling sweetly against Mark’s neck, leaving a feather-light kiss of pure affection on the hinge of his jaw before snuggling back down. Two people completely in sync and unabashedly in love.

Despite the sweltering humidity, an icy chill washes over Charles from somewhere deep within. He’s all too aware of precisely what he’s witnessing right in front of him.

You’ve exchanged his partnership — one defined by betrayal and brokenness — for something far greater.

Charles huffs out a dry, mirthless breath as he sinks back against the sweat-dampened chassis of his idle car, feeling painfully adrift despite the pulsing rush of people all around him. He catches one final glimpse of you and Mark before the crowd finally sweeps you up — the picture of contentment nestled so trustingly against your beloved’s back. Watching on as your dazzling smile lights up the night with each joyful step you draw nearer to the championship celebration

He knows with soul-cleaving certainty in that moment that you’ve likely never felt as cherished or prized in your entire life as Mark must make you feel every single day.

Meanwhile, Charles is perpetually exiled here on the outskirts, unable to do anything but bear witness to the other man’s spoils. So close to his own desires yet barred from ever seizing them for his own.

Always the usurped, forever second fiddle, constantly relegated to P2 in work and life.

With a jaw so tightly clenched it threatens to crack his molars, Charles wrenches his gaze away at last. He feels the first angry prick of heated moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes and hates himself for the painfully vulnerable reaction.

This is his self-manufactured hell, after all. He has no one to blame but his own selfish impulses and cowardly weakness for tossing that bond with you into the incinerator. For annihilating the relationship you had built over years of steadfast partnership in one careless night.

So he’ll swallow down the bitterness and lingering heartache as penance for his sins. Compartmentalize the image of you balanced so peacefully in another man’s embrace, so patently adored and worshiped as you deserve.

He at least owes you that mercy — to bear the whole of his consequences in dignified silence as you bask in the victor’s glow you were always meant for.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

What is… that?

warnings: none rlly, all fluff :3

@lampylamperson HOPE U LIKE IT !!

a/n: omfg this man IS TOO DAYUM FINE. am I back in my animated men phase ??

The last thing you expected while you waited for your husband to return, was for him to bring a giant kaiju baby with him.

You were sitting on the couch downstairs, your head being held up by your hand as you watched crappy tv shows, when you heard a loud banging noise from outside, you snapped your head up, to see kenji finally swimming in.

The door opened, and water flowed underneath Kenji as he slid onto the floor. “Mina! Emergency analysis.” He said quickly, you furrowing your eyebrows at his suddenness. You stood up, going to his side.

“Scanning for injuries.” She said, he breathed shakily, turning to look at you and back at Mina.

When she got to his hands to scan, he held them close to his chest, as if he was hiding something.

“Ken, this is very strange. According to my readings, you have a… a second heartbeat?”

“No. It’s not my heartbeat, Mina.” He moved his hands to reveal a pink dragon looking thing.

You gasped, eyes going what. “What… is that? Oh my god, Ken, is that a fu-“

“Yep, it’s the end of the world.” He interrupted, sighing, sitting up, the baby sliding down his body and to the floor. Your eyes were blown wide, in pure shock at the huge kaiju you had in front of you.

The baby looked curious, following Mina around as she floated.

“Um… is it okay?”

“She, ken. The infant is a she.”

She climbed all over Ken, trying to get to Mina with little giggles. You tilted your head to the side. “She’s kinda… cute.” You murmured.

“Her breathing seems normal. Reflexes okay. Heart rate seems slightly elevated, but-“

Ken grabbed her again, holding her in his hands. “Just give me the bad news.”

“I have absolutely no specific data on infant kaiju physiology.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, putting the baby down. She eyed you curiously, and cooed a few times at you, reaching out. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mom and dad program everything they knew about these things into your electric brain.”

She began to walk towards you before Ken grabbed her again, pulling her towards him making you laugh when she had a little sad frown.

“She is not a thing, Ken. And we’ve never seen an infant kaiju. In fact, no one has.”

“Great, super helpful.” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, I think I’d be better off asking Siri.” He retorted, you rolling your eyes.

“I mean, Mina’s not the one that brought a giant freaking kaiju baby home, Ken.” You pointed out, he rolled his eyes and turned to you.

“Well, we have to figure something out. We can’t raise a damn… kaiju baby.” He told you, putting the baby back in front of him and groaning in annoyance when his color timer started beeping again. “Great.” He sighed, looking back at the baby when he realized something.

“Um…” he chuckled. “Why is she changing colors?” He pointed to her.

“Maybe you should ask Siri.” Mina retorted, making you stifle a laugh.

He chuckled. “Do not start, Mina.” He pointed at the robot in front of him.

“If I were to guess, Ken, I’d say she has imprinted on you.” She began to chew on his color timer, he quickly stood up and shook his head. “No. No. No, no! No, no, no!” He plucked the baby off of him, holding her out in front of himself. “Are you saying-“

“Yes, Ken. She thinks you are her mother.”

You had to laugh now, he bumped his head up onto the roof, letting out a yelp.

“I- I am not built for this! I’ve got a life. A title to win!” He groaned. “You do something nice and now I’m babysitting a giant- pink lizard thing!” He shouted. “We’ve gotta get it out of here.”

“And where would we put her?” You asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He groaned, looking down at you. His timer started beeping again. “Oh! Oh, oh, oh, we’ll take her to kaiju island!”

“Unfortunately, Ken, no one knows where to find it.” Mina points out.

He sighed, looking down. “Come on!”

The beeping on his timer became more rapid.

“Ken, it would be very bad if you changed back right now.” Mina said, as if he didn’t already know that.

A large burst of light and he was falling back down to you, you watching him thud onto the ground with a grunt.

He stood up, stretching before turning back to the baby behind him. He chuckled nervously, waving. “Hi…”

The baby’s face changed, her smile turning into a frown as she began to sob out, she let out a screech, large beams of light and energy coming from her mouth.

Kenji screamed, turning back to you and ducking down and grabbing you, pulling you flush to his body as he rolled over. All his cars had fallen, causing him to gasp out. You winced.

“What the heck was that?!” He shouted at the baby, you both standing back up, Ken still in front of you.

She let out more circles of energy, causing the both of you to run.

“She’s scared of you.” Mina spoke.

“Scared of me? She’s 20 feet tall!” He exclaimed.

“She doesn’t know you, she only knows ultraman!”

“Mina! Containment unit!” He yelled when you both had to continue dodging her attacks while running.

“Which one?!”

“The biggest one!” He shouted at her, you both finally panting and turning around when her screeching had stopped and there was no more attacks.

She was now in a giant glass container, her hands and claws on the glass, cooing with a sad face. Kenji sighed in relief. “Oh, God.”

You sighed as well, hitting your husband on his shoulder. “You’re cleaning this place up.”

“Oh, seriously?” He murmured, looking around.

“Hey, you’re her mother, not me.” You teased.

He groaned and shook his head at you. “I’m not her mother.”

“She thinks you are.”

He just rolled his eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder. “I hate you sometimes.” He murmured.

“You love me.”

[2tcs]

I love your content so far from what I read and I had a crack I did just hit me

After a while the bat family finally decides to get rid of Ra al Ghul like take him down and take his position from him as the leader of the League of assassins to dismantle it

Ra al Ghul never warned anyone if they want to actually become like the main watcher over the Lazarus pits but they have to go to a 2000 door haunted house run by the ghost King who is 15 years old

So I'll be entire bat family is practically being put through spooky's haunted house 1000 doors except it's Phantom haunted house 2000 doors

Danny believes that anyone that wants the Lazarus pits is undirectly like a bad person so he kind of uses it to a trauma dump on people and be mentally tortured these people so they drop out of taking it

He's getting help from Ghost like Ember Techn, Poindexter, Wulf even cujo

Like they put Ra al Ghul through hell and now they're going to put the bat family to that because they have no idea or not if they're good people

So it's just Danny traumatizing them by making with the horrors and some of the deaths of the ghost the last shocker is at the last door they have to relive Danny's death then Danny will come out and hand them a key and then proceed to give them the whole feel about being the new owners of Lazarus pits

I just enjoy the idea of Danny and the ghost being terrifying

I don't think Danny knows enough ghosts to pull off 2000 doors but he does know Ghost Writer. As well as several ghosts who could make them relive each other's worst/most traumatic moments. Ras probably went alone when he did his trial. But if the whole batfam is going in? So much ammo.

It could start out simple. Lure them into a sense of ease.

---

"Huh. When the scary voice said we would be facing trials to prove our worth. I didn't expect sentient, cuddly blobs." Duke said petting one of the blobs that was chirping happily. Not noticing as his fellow vigilantes and friends also began to cuddle the blobs.

It takes them three hours before they realize that they've lost time and begin to fight the calming effect that the blobs exude and head towards the door on the other side of the room.

---

And maybe embarrassing.

---

"Once upon a time."

"WHY THE FUCK AM I WEARING TIGHTS!"

"I don't know. I think they look good."

"Shut up dickface."

---

Even a bit annoying at times.

---

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

"WTF! This guy is more annoying than Condiment King!"

"At least he isn't dumping ketchup on us!"

---

The first few hundred doors could even be called easy for people like the bats.

---

"Quit hitting yourself. Quit hitting yourself." Jason said after he ripped off the robot's arm and started to use it to beat the robot.

"Hay. Don't you think you're going too far Hood?"

"Stop your incelence! For I. Skulker. The greatest hunter ever. Shall be the one to skin you alive and use your pelts as a rug in my den!"

"You were saying Dickolase?"

"Give me the other arm. I want to break this pinata open."

---

But that ease does not last long. Soon they are faced with the suffering of others.

---

"What was that. What was that!" Steph shouted as she clung to Tim. Trembling from the adrenalin rush.

"I think. I think we just died? In a motorcycle crash? Did we just get hit by a CAR while on a MOTORCYCLE?!"

"That motorcycle crash was quick compared to how I died! So shut the fuck up!" Jason yelled before stomping toward the next door. And if his hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob? No, they weren't

---

And even faced with the consequences of their failures. Failures that nearly tore them apart. Failures that could still tear them apart.

---

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Shut up old man! You never asked! You weren't there! You're Never There!"

---

And temptations.

---

Dick looked around as his family piled into the living room of the manor. Everyone was laughing at something Duke said. Jason laughed the loudest as he slung his arm over Tim's shoulder for support. (Wrong, this is wrong, why is this wrong?)

---

And nightmares.

---

"Give them back! GIVE THEM BACK!" Bruce screamed to the sky as he clutched his kids as close to him as he could. Falling into despair as their bodies, their corpses, grew colder. The echos of their own cries of pain and anguish ringing in his ears.

---

They still manage to fight through the physical and psychological horror. Even when they are pushed to experience torture that not even their most vial villain would do to them.

---

"I'm alive! I'm me! Mom! Dad! Please! Please!" "Shut up you freak! Honey, get the muzzle. I don't want to hear its lies anymore." The woman, the monster, in the teal hazmat suit said as she pulled out their intestine and hung it on a rack for further examination.

---

They persevered. And when they leave the last door behind? And are faced with a young boy, no older than 14, who looks like an amalgamation of all of the Robins when they were that age?

---

Danny watched as the would-be-owner of the Lazarus Pits stumbled through the door. Only for an entire group of Kevlar waring fruitloops to fall out of the door.

"So you are the fools who think to control the blood of King Lazarus. So far you have seen many facets of the horrors that can come from..." Danny started his monologue before he was interrupted by the one wearing a cloak reminiscent of a bat falling to his knees.

"Please. Please say we don't have to fight you. I can't. I can't." He said before breaking down in tears as several others joined him in his cry fest.

"Shit." Danny said as he looked at the people before him. Panicking over what he was supposed to do.

[byunpum]

Back to you | Part 3(final)

Pair: Jake(human and avatar) x Neytiri x Human reader (trio couple)

Warning: i think kinda sad. soft moments, mmm more neytiri and reader, mention of death, mates.

Note: It's been almost a month now, I'm so sorry. I still have no excuse. I tried to write the story, but I feel that in the end… I didn't like it. I think it could have another ending. But still…I'm going to leave it like this. I hope you like it very much! And thanks for your patience! I hope you enjoy this part a lot. Love ya <3

+Read 'Mama's boy' HERE+

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3(final)

Everything was supposed to be fine, the meetings Grace had had with the RDA investigation team were supposed to have understood her claims. It was assumed that they would not continue with the massacre they were committing in other clans, it was assumed that no one would have been harmed… it was assumed. That day promised to be a quiet one, neytiri and you were sitting on the stairs of the school, which grace had built. In order to have a better contact with the Omaticaya clan. Although the atmosphere felt a little heavy, the last few weeks you had learned that the clan was planning something against the humans. The mistreatment had led them to make the worst decisions, that's why you had stayed away from the clan. It was not for your liking, you loved being in the clan. But Mo'at insisted that you stay with your people. So you could only see neytiri when they were at school.

They were playing with their hands, and telling whatever gossip you had missed in the last 2 weeks. Until you hear some noises coming from the jungle, you can see how a group of RDA men arrive, some in their robotic suits and others normal. But with weapons in their hands, Neytiri quickly rises up, taking your arm to drag you towards her. Walking away closer to the jungle behind you. Not five minutes had passed since his appearance, which is when the chaos began. The screams of desperation, the sounds of gunshots and grace's voice trying to explain, was the only thing you could hear. Neytiri and you had hidden under the stairs. You were both scared, and were waiting for help. But everything gets worse, when you feel someone grabbing you by your hair.

Lifting you off the ground with force, you scream in pain and twist in the air. You can feel Neytiri trying to hold you up, but it was useless. You see that it was some RDA soldier, indicating to take you with them. "This girl should not be here…. take her to the base" says the man. "Leave her please!!!" shouts grace, the woman was gagging on the ground. Her only hope was that you would escape with the clan, there you would be safe. You hear a scream from far away, and see how sylwanin jumps to a great height, attacking the man. "Let go of my sister!!!" shouts the girl, knocking the man down, leaving you free for her to help you. She held your hand tightly, both of you running into the jungle. When the sound of a gun is heard and everything goes silent.

Sylwanin stayed still in her place, her eyes wide open. While your gaze looked at his chest. Shot straight through the heart, your eyes met hers. Feeling her swoon over you, you try to handle her weights. "Sylwanin no…please don't. Let's go home" you cry, hugging her tightly. But you watch as that same man reaches over and grabs you by the arm again. Now with more strength, pulling you away from Sylwanin. Pulling you away from what you considered your family. You try to scream, but it was impossible to get out of his grip. You watch as neytiri tries to keep up with the group, shouting your name. "Y/N!!! NOOOO, COME BACK!!!" shouts neytiri, while you can only watch as she gets smaller the farther away you get.

present time*

Jake didn't know how to act, and what to do. He felt like he was in trouble, but at the same time he was not. You two were there just looking at each other, the looks on your faces were calm and nostalgic. There was no hate or anger…it was as if you had been waiting for this moment for years. You dared to take the first step, approaching quickly, hugging neytiri tightly. Your head resting on her lower belly. As tears began to flow from your eyes. You were afraid she would pull away and reject you. But your heart calmed down when you felt hands on your back, and felt someone slide off. Neytiri had lowered herself to your level, so she could hug you better. Wrapping her long arms around your body. "I've missed you…Y/N" neytiri says, pulling away a little. You can see how she has tears in her eyes. You wipe some of them away. "Me too" you speak, neytiri takes your hands.

Both smiling softly, while just letting time pass. Until jake makes a noise with his throat. both of you look at him and laugh. "I think I have a lot to ask," says Jake. And yes, he had a lot of questions, but you guys weren't going to let him worry. Just at that moment it had started to rain, there was a beautiful sun and a soft, cool rain. Everything looked like new changes… The three of you decided to be in a more comfortable area. Up a tree, not far from the laboratory. The three of you had sat down, while neytiri and you explained everything to jake. Even you were able to talk about the terrifying things he had experienced in the RDA all those years ago.

Time had passed, and the evening was showing. Jake can see you take a few glances at the view of the sunset. "Too bad…it's dark already," you complain, the night idicating that you had to go back to the lab. "We can meet again tomorrow, right?" asks Jake, looking at Neytiri. With very big eyes, you look at her too. This made neytiri a little nervous, having two people she cared about looking at her straight on. And waiting for her response, as if it was a law. "Well…I don't see why, besides…" neytiri pauses, moving closer to your side. "Y/N and I have a lot to talk about, how about tomorrow you go to the clan" neytiri says. You are a little surprised, but lower your face in embarrassment.

After all that had happened, they might hate you. They would still accept you?, you were afraid. "I'm not sure…I" you are interrupted, by neytiri. "I'm sure our parents would be happy to see you," says Neytiri. You swear you almost cry, hearing that they still considered you as a daughter. You agree. After a couple of minutes, Jake leaves you at the entrance of the lab. And neytiri says goodbye to you, anxious that it's already the next day. "See you later…ok" says jake, giving you a quick kiss on the crown of your head. Running back to his ikran, jake needed to drop his avatar off somewhere safe.

You watch as they walk away, if you hear a celebratory shout from neytiri. You enter the lab, with a big smile on your face. This was like a dream… you couldn't believe it.

On the other hand, Neytiri and Jake arrived at the big tree. Jake was getting down from his ikran, when he felt how neytiri hugged him, and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek of his face. "Thank you…" says the woman, jake shakes his head to the side. Laughing a little. "Why?" asks jake. Neytiri pulls away, and nudges him a little playfully. "For helping me find her," she says. Walking away from jake, to go rest. She was looking forward to the other day. She wanted to spend the whole day with you, to go back to the way she was before. And you were the same, but even more anxious, you hadn't left the connection machine, waiting for Jake to open the lid. The strange noise of the machine alarmed you, and you see how a hand lifts the machine. "H-hello" jake was just sitting up, when he feels you hug him. "Thank you!!!" you say almost shouting. " I know…she's just as excited too" jake says.

"Jake…you don't understand, this is so important to me, I'm looking forward to seeing my family" you are on the point of crying. Jake tries to calm you down. You had to, because Grace was already noticing, if not already did. She had stayed close and could hear everything. Something in her chest tightened. She felt happy but afraid at the same time, this could be dangerous for both of them. But she couldn't deny that seeing you this happy was what she wanted. Grace was like a mother to you, your happiness was also hers. She comes out from the other room, watching as you turn and get up from your chair and run to her. Jumping up and down and telling her everything that had happened. That same night, grace approached jake, still very tired jake. Touching his shoulder. "Please don't do anything stupid with those two girls…just, take care of them" says grace, pulling away from jake. She had to rest, she sensed something big was going to happen. "Don't worry, I'll take care of them," says Jake. Hearing a small laugh from grace, "Thank you" says grace, leaving jake alone in the room.

The morning came quickly, and you hadn't slept at all. Only about 2 hours, you were so anxious. You had already picked up jake, telling him to join his avatar as quickly as possible. The plan was for Jake to come get you in his ikran, and that you were all going to meet near the big tree. Jake still had a slice of bread in his mouth, when you help him into the machine. "Wait!!!" jake complains, but laughing at the same time. "Come on!!! You're taking too long!!!" you hit the buttons as fast as you can. "I'll be here in about 30 minutes, wait for me outside" jake speaks, as the door to the machine closes. You quickly, go get your oxygen mask, and a small bag you put on your hip. Grace just looked at you with a warm smile, while Norm was complaining. Saying how bad this could be. And he was partially right, this reunion could go wrong.

You come out of the lab, sitting on the same rock as the day before, waiting for Jake. You were getting anxious, because the minutes were passing and nothing. But you calm down when you hear the ikran's scream, and see him approaching. Landing nearby, only for you to approach carefully. "Come… hurry up, neytiri is super anxious" says jake, offering his hand, for you to come up with him. You get a little scared, because of the ikran. But you climb in front of him and jake wraps one of his hands around your waist. "Ready?" jake asks, noticing the big smile on your face.

The ride was scary and yet so slow at the same time. You wanted to get there already, you wanted to know how everyone was doing. What things had changed? Everything was still the same. You had so many questions. But you were interrupted by the sudden change of light when Jake started to descend, seeing a Neytiri in the distance. Greeting you and giving some jumping up and down in joy. "Y/N!!!" says neytiri, running towards the ikran, helping you down from it. " I'm glad you're home, ma y/n. Come!!!" neytiri is so excited that she almost forgets that you that you were not her own size. You stumble into a large branch, feeling jake hold you by the forearm. "Hey…watch out," says jake, watching as neytiri turns and apologizes to you, giggling. They both had big smiles on their faces, it was beautiful. They seemed genuinely happy, and something in him felt satisfied. That he had managed to get the two of them together.

The closer they got to the big tree, the more nervous you got. You could see some na'vi watching you with fear and curiosity. Some of them did not even remember your presence, you were strange to them. But they could not say anything, since neytiri had you close to her. "Are you sure they will accept me?" you ask, waiting for an answer from neytiri. "Sure…I know they will" says neytiri, she kept walking. Leading you to where her parents were. Neytiri had informed them that she had found you. Her parents' reaction was one of happiness but also concern, what if you came with bad intentions. Mo'at had to make sure that you were still… you.

You can see Mo'at and Neytiri's father. You were getting even more nervous, looking back to see jake. Making sure he was still there, if anything happened you knew Jake would protect you. The three of you arrive in front of the leaders, and you can already feel their eyes on you.

"Mother… here is Y/N" neytiri pushes you forward a little. The whole clan is around you, making you more nervous. Mo'at approaches you carefully, keeping eye contact with you. Lowering herself to your level, to be very close to you. She observes how you have changed, you are big and your appearance is not the same. Moving her hand to your chest, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She breathed a few words, which you understood very well. It was a prayer to eywa, asking for wisdom and understanding of the unknown. Meanwhile neytiri was next to jake, waiting for her mother's approval, for her it was important for her mother to accept you back into the clan.

Mo'at opens her eyes, and can see that you are still looking at her with great concern. She moves her hand from your chest to the side of your skull. As a smile spreads across her face. "Oh my child…how we have missed you" says mo'at, as she wraps you in a big hug. "One of our own has returned home" shouts neytiri's father. Also happy for your return. Mo'at pulls away, leaving neytiri now to be the one to hug. "Eywa has answered me…our sister is pure of heart, as she has always been" shouts mo'at, as shouts of celebration are heard high up in the great tree. The clan was filled with joy and celebration. Jake still couldn't understand how you were part of the clan, you were supposed to go through a whole process to be part of it. But he could see how some na'vi came to greet you and welcome you. As if your presence was something normal for them.

It was decided that your arrival would be celebrated that night, after all this was a cause for celebration for the whole clan. Of course, some were still suspicious of your presence as tsu'tey, but that did not matter to you. You were so happy, you had to catch up with neytiri. And so you did, you spent the whole day together.

Neytiri forced you to change your clothes, and adjust one of hers, just for you. "Ney I think this…" you laugh, while the top didn't want to adjust. "Let me help you" neytiri laughs. Coming closer to you, and helping you. Admiring you for a moment, this seemed so unreal. Neytiri could hate all humans, but you. You and she had a different connection. She loved you and she felt you loved her back. "That's it!!! Now you do look beautiful" says neytiri, watching you try to cover yourself up. "Jake look!!!" shouts neytiri, inviting jake to join you. The poor man had stayed behind you, it seemed like he didn't exist between the two of you. "Doesn't she look beautiful?" asks neytiri. Watching as jake's ears perk up as well as his tail, from excitement. "Y-yes…pretty" says jake trying not to look at you too much. "Don't look at me!!!" you moan, it was the first time jake had seen you naked like that. Of course, neytiri didn't understand what was going on between you and just laughed.

The day went on as normal, neytiri and you continued to do your thing, while jake followed and tried to join in. You included him, but sometimes forgot about him. The night came quickly, and the celebration began. Everyone was dancing, singing, eating. And they were eating a very special game, neytiri's father himself had hunted for you. Everyone was happy, even grace and norm had joined in. Already consumed by alcohol, saying stupid things. While you were sitting on a log watching how cozy everything felt, like it used to. It finally felt like home. You watch as neytiri is dancing with jake, flirting and having a good time. You had a soft smile on your face, until neytiri makes eye contact with you. Causing you to blush a little, changing your gaze.

You hear her approach, and she plops down next to you. You knew she'd had a bit to drink, so it was all laughs for her. "Do you want to dance, with me?" neytiri speaks, silly in her movements. "I don't think so…I'm fine here" you speak, still a little shy. "If you want you can dance with jake, he would like that" neytiri says as she laughs. You look at her for a moment, you knew the tone she was talking in. "If you want we can both dance with him…share him" says neytiri, saying the last word more slowly. Waiting for a response from you, you stare at her for a moment. Bursting out laughing with her. "Well… if you insist, but first I want to dance with you" you get up from the floor and take her hand to take neytiri with you. After dancing with her, after a while Jake joined you.

After the party, Neytiri insisted that you sleep over with her. No one could stop them, they both wanted to be together all the time. And no one refused the request. So now you were both lying in neytiri's hammock, laughing and talking about anything. "Excuse me ladies…" speaks Jake, from his hammock. You both look at him at the same time. "Hope you get some rest" jake says, listening as you two also wish him goodnight, but quickly ignore him to keep talking. Jake chuckles to himself, and settles down to sleep. After all he needed to rest, soon it would be his initiation ceremony into the clan, so he had to be in perfect condition.

"When will be jake's ceremony?" you ask neytiri, she was next to you. "In the next few days, you will be there, right?" asks neytiri. You settle more on top of her, looking warmer. The nights could be cold in Pandora, colder than usual. "I'll try to be there…but I don't know" you say, shifting your gaze a little. There is a silence between the two of you, until Neytiri laughs to herself. "What do you think?" you speak. "After the ceremony…Jake will be able to choose a partner, a partner who is from the clan," says Neytiri. "Are you thinking of proposing?" you joke a little, but you see that neytiri falls down. "I thought about proposing but for both of us…" says neytiri, looking down to see you. "Both of us, us sharing Jake?" you think for a moment. You had so many doubts.

"I think we have to ask jake first" you speak, hearing neytiri laugh. " Don't worry, I'm going to make him" neytiri says joking with you. "You know… I'm glad we're back together" you hug neytiri. "Yes, I hope we will never be separated again, never again" neytiri hugs you tighter. And the idea of you and her and Jake being a couple, she was excited. She was already planning everything, she already had more or less an idea.

(I'm going to try to summarize the battle part as much as I can, because it doesn't go very much with the plot of the story)

But neytiri wished these moments had lasted longer. After jake's initiation ceremony. She kept her word, neytiri took jake to the spirit tree, declaring herself and also declaring your feelings for him. Telling him the plan that you and she had, trios were a normal thing between them. Jake didn't hesitate to accept, it was a shame that you weren't there with them to join them in eywa's eyes. Neytiri wished you would stay, but the chaos that was going on in the lab was different. The RDA had already sent their warnings, and grace was trying to calm the waters, but all to no avail. The next morning the chaos broke out, and harmony was exhausted.

After jake told the truth, and everything that was going on. There was a moment of doubt towards you, on neytiri's part. You hadn't had a chance to talk to her. To tell her that you didn't know anything about it. Jake and the team, including you, were able to escape from the RDA and do something for the Omaticaya clan. It was not after jake became toruk makto, that you were able to see neytiri.

The humans who were in favor of the na'vi, and the omaticaya had to unite to save pandora. So you were finally able to meet with her. Jake explained to Neytiri that you had nothing to do with this…you were so innocent about it. Neytiri knew that you were not capable of betraying her like that, neither her nor the clan. The fight was tough, and left many fallen in battle. But it was worth it… now they were free. At least for a while, everyone knew it wasn't over.

(end of summary <3)

After the first battle, and the humans went back to earth. That was when neytiri felt some stability again. Things were slowly calming down. She just needed something… and it was you. She needed you to accept to be in her family…she needed you to be her partner. Both hers and Jake's. But she didn't know how to do it, she was already by jake's side. But she was noticing since the humans left, you were distancing yourself from her. Keeping your distance and this did not please her. She could understand that you were analyzing everything that had happened, you had lost grace, all the chaos of the RDA. But now…now she could be a little happy.

"Today is your transfer ceremony…I will ask Y/N, do you think she will accept?" neytiri asks jake. "Didn't she already accept?" jake laughs a little. consoling neytiri. "Yes…but now it would be formal. You and I are already bonded…it would be our turn to bond with her. That makes me nervous" neytiri brings her hand to her chest, and tries to reassure herself. "Everything will be fine." jake also has his doubts. A human being paired with two na'vi, that's strange. Even for him. Sure, he wants you to accept his proposal, both he and neytiri want the same. But what will it be like, what will the others think. How this was going to work.

Jake's ceremony went perfectly. Jake left his human body, to now be a permanent part of his na'vi body. And of course, everyone was there to see this happen. You were right next to Jake's human body and Neytiri next to his avatar. "See you later" you say to Jake, watching as he smiles at you and closes his eyes. You couldn't help but feel a little sad, you had gotten used to seeing this jake, human jake. But you also knew it was the best thing for him…now he would be better off. He would have a better life. You could see jake's last sigh leave his body, and watch as all the attention turned to his avatar. Picking yourself up off the ground, and walking away a bit. You settle into a corner of the group that was helping Jake welcome his new body. You felt like you didn't belong there… you were no longer important. Or so you thought…

After a while, the ceremony was winding down, and everything began to get quieter. Less people, more privacy. Jake still felt a little strange, but it was great. Neytiri was by his side, happy but with her head busy. She was looking for you, but couldn't find you. You were supposed to be by her side, but out of nowhere you disappeared. "I don't see her…where is she?" says jake, looking around. "Y/N? I saw her walking towards the jungle, I guess she's heading to the lab" says norm and max. Jake and neytiri give each other a look, before getting up from the ground and going to look for you.

On the other hand, you were steps away from the lab. Thinking to yourself, well this was the end of it. After all, it's all calmed down. It didn't happen what you expected, but at least they are… a noise interrupts you. You hear voices calling your name. You turn to see two large silhouettes approaching. "Y/N wait!!!" says neytiri. Approaching you, you smile a little. "Why are you gone?" asks jake approaching you. Both na'vi kneel down to your level, so they can talk to you better. "Well…just, I thought it would be better if I walked away." You speak, watching as neytiri's gaze falls. "Why would you think that…we don't want you to walk away" the woman says somewhat agitated. "I…I don't want to" you start to speak, but neytiri interrupts.

"We had already talked about this…and maybe you thought it was a joke. But, what about us. I thought we were going to be a couple…the two of us, jake and…" neytiri pauses for a moment. "Were you really talking?" you ask, as your eyes widen. Jake laughs, and moves closer to you. Taking your hands, he also takes neytiri's hands. Just for the three of you to be together. "Since you are part of the clan…and I am aware that there are other couples that would be better than us, but…would you like to be our mate?" asks jake, neytiri looks at him for a moment, only to stare at you.

You didn't know what to answer. Never in a million years, you thought you would be in this position, you were well aware that you were a human, and no na'vi could find you attractive. Even when you began to have feelings for Jake, you found it hard to think that his na'vi side would find you attractive. But neytiri…like her who hated humans so much. "You don't want to be with us?" neytiri breaks the silence, you had been silent in thought for a few minutes. "It's not that…but it scares me a little" you speak. Watching as neytiri moves closer to you. "Afraid…you shouldn't be afraid of us" says neytiri. "We will never hurt you," says Jake. Joining neytiri.

"And if you start to hate me…and get tired of me" you begin to stutter a little. "Y/N…we want you to be our mate, and it's because we both love you. We want to have a family with you, please" jake speaks, now he was holding your hands tighter. You look at both of them for a moment, smiling at them and shaking your head. "Yes…I accept" you speak, neytiri comes over to hug you and pull you to her. She was so excited. She tries to find some space so she can give you a kiss, but she stopped for a moment. "How? Ahhh?" she sounded a little confused. That damn glass you had on your face, it had never bothered her as much as it did now. Jake reaches over and gives you a kiss on the hundred. "I think if you hold your breath…" jake looks at you shaking his head to the side along with his little ears.

The three of you hadn't noticed, but you're so close together, so tight. You could barely see. Norm just happened to be arriving at the lab, coming upon the scene. He sensed something was up but decided to ask. "Is something going on or what's happening?" speaks Norm, from the distance. You both look at him at the same time, separating. Neytiri and Jake get up from the ground. "It's nothing…we were just looking for Y/N, we were just leaving right?" says jake, taking neytiri's hand. "Yes, we were just leaving" neytiri speaks. You feel jake tap you on your shoulder, offering you his hand. You make eye contact for a moment with neytiri and then with jake. You were aware that as soon as you took jake's hand. Your life as a regular human was going to end.

It wasn't like living in pandora was normal, but you knew you had to leave everything you knew so far. Accepting to be neytiri and jake's mate, implied living like them, living like na'vi. And you were willing to do it, holding tightly Jake's hand. "Norm… later I'm going to get more oxygen supply" you speak, leaving a confused norm. But he was going to be okay, eventually he was going to know what was going on. Neytiri approached the other side of Jake, taking his other free hand. This was going to be a great adventure for the three of them. And she couldn't wait for it to begin.

And it didn't take long, weeks after the three of them settled into their new home. A nice hut up in the trees, perfect for a big family. Neytiri became pregnant with neteyam, this was just the beginning of your family's expansion. Soon after neteyam was born, grace's avatar body showed signs of pregnancy. And so kiri came into your family. Neteyam was a year old, and kiri was a couple of months old when your pregnancy came as a surprise to the entire clan. You were the only human who was able to become pregnant by a na'vi. Norm and Max came to the conclusion that as Jake's avatar, he had DNA in his system. There might have been a possibility. And that's how lo'ak came into your life. Your handsome prince, your precious angel. Even though all the children in the family were equal siblings and you were his parents regardless of who his mother was, you had a special attachment to lo'ak. You never thought you could get pregnant, so you cared for him a lot.

Present, location: Metcayina clan (read mama boy's "here")

You had been in the clan for a long time already, and after all the problems that had happened. Between being accepted into the clan, the problems between your children and their father and not to mention how insecure you had felt. The same doubts were beginning to consume you. The little akira was already quite big, so watching her run around the marui was your new activity. It had been 14 years since you had your last baby, so you felt like a first time mom.

"Tuk keeps insisting that she wants to make a new outfit for akira" says neytiri. She was sitting next to you, preparing the food. Her voice brought you back to reality. "Ah?" you speak, looking at neytiri, with a blank stare. "Ma y/n, is something wrong with you?" neytiri pauses, putting the knife aside. She had already spent so much with you, she could read you with her eyes closed. "No…I'm just a little tired. akira didn't sleep very well" you speak, Neytiri arranges your hair a little, she knew you weren't feeling well. "This fish is gigantic!!!" jake speaks as he enters the marui. "akira look who's here!!!" you speak, catching the little girl's attention. Who saw her father enter, and ran as fast as she could to greet him. Jake grabbed her with one hand and held her in his arms. Giving her many kisses on her cheeks. Neytiri laughs a little, and looks back at you.

After preparing the food, you had gone for a walk with tuk and the baby of the family. Leaving Neytiri and Jake alone. Neytiri thought this was the perfect time to talk to one of her partners. She was worried about you. "Do you think something is wrong with Y/N?" asks neytiri. "Well…I've seen her a little distant from us" said jake. Neytiri thinks a little, she wanted to do something to cheer you up. "How about we take a walk along the coast, she likes to do that since she came here and since akira was born, we haven't had a date" says jake. Watching neytiri get excited, she thought jake's idea was great. "Perfect, I'll tell neteyam and kiri to take care of the kids and we'll take a night for ourselves" speaks neytiri, excited.

That same night, Neteyam was left in charge of his younger siblings. Something that you doubt a little, because akira was still very small, but Neytiri manages to calm you down. She knows that you need your space and to clear your mind. The three of you leave the marui, taking the ilus to one of the nearest islands. Luckily for you, the island was lonely, and the marine life was so active.

Everything was so peaceful and calm. just what you needed, neytiri was in the water swimming while you and jake were on the sand watching her. "Hey!!! Come here" neytiri shouts, watching as you quickly get up and join her. Laughing as you feel the temperature difference in the water. Neytiri catches up to you, you quickly wrap your arms around her neck. You were both laughing, and swimming together. "Hey?" you speak, looking at neytiri. They were so close, one to the other. "I'm afraid we'll get separated…like we did before. That's why I'm like this," you speak. Neytiri just keeps silent, and comes closer to kiss you on the lips. ( Y/N is wearing "THIS" oxygen mask) "I think that after everything we have been through…nothing will separate us again" says neytiri.

"Hey…would you guys like me to join you?" jokes jake from the edge. He had already started to enter the water. Reaching out, he reached out for your hand so he could take it. Jake was big enough to be able to hold you both in the same embrace. Pulling them to his chest, he stretched up so he could kiss them both. "It's been a long time since we were like this…" jake speaks softly. Close to your ear, you were in between the two of them, both cuddling in the embrace. "Yeah…so that's how I got pregnant for the second time" you joke, hearing neytiri laugh. "well…I guess we could try again…don't you think" you feel jake's hand run up your thigh under the water, giving it a little squeeze.

"Hey…that's my thigh!!!" says neytiri, giggling. You had your legs around her waist, and were quite high up on the surface. "Here…here" you take jake's hand and guide it, feeling neytiri take your face in her hands and give you another kiss. As you feel jake's lips on your shoulder, closing your eyes.

What a fool you were, it had been so long, they had been through so much…and yet they had found each other.

Tag List <3

@mimisweetz @crazytacokoala @waywardobjectfun @baybaybear1 @papichulo120627 @katch2020 @anxious-fern @carip-09 @nonamevenus @linaaa15 @screechingenemy18 @crazytacokoala @kiaralee25 @ikeyniofthetayrangi

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 3

content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)

word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk

GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.

GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.

GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.

"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.

"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."

In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.

"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.

"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.

You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.

You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'

The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.

GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.

GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.

You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.

"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.

He's instantly broke back to reality.

"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.

"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.

Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.

In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.

Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....

GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.

Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.

"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.

"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.

"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."

"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.

Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.

"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."

You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."

"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"

You shake your head no.

"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."

"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.

GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.

"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.

"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.

He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."

He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.

You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.

"She's focusing so hard"

"How can a gym outfit be so hot"

"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"

"Her hands are so warm"

"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"

That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?

GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.

GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.

GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.

"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.

"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.

"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.

You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.

"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."

You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.

GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.

GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.

"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.

"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."

"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"

You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.

One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"

You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.

"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"

The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."

A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.

"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,

Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."

The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.

"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.

"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.

GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.

"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.

"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.

"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.

You nod and intertwine your arm through his.

GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.

For Miguel, it was a lot.

He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.

There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.

"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"

"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.

"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.

Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.

You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.

You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.

You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.

You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.

"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.

"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."

Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.

You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.

You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.

“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."

You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.

A shot? Sure.

A pill? No.

A game? Maybe.

The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.

He was able to check his phone.

3:35 am.

He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.

"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.

"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"

It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.

He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.

"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("

"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"

"Gabri :(((("

"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"

Yeah. He fucked up.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.

As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe

[fandoms--fluff]

Hope Mikaelson with a fem!reader that is the last siren alive and have hydrokinesis

splash

Flufftober, October 9th

Female siren reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none

A/n: For anyone who may or may not know what hydrokinesis is, as I did, it's the power of water manipulation and controlling it.

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As you sit on a rock by the falls, you create a spiral of water and make it float in the air. You need some time away from the school.

Everyone found out about you being a siren, thankfully nothing about your hydrokinesis, but it really sucked. Especially since Alaric is quite literally making it his personal mission to make your life a living hell over the past week since it was revealed. Apparently for 'lying' about your specie type even though he never asked you and just assumed you were a witch.

He obviously didn't think there were any sirens left alive after Sybil and Selene. Which he definitely didn't appreciate you bringing that up when he went off at you, yelling about how you were a 'disgrace'.

The only person you told about yourself was Hope, your girlfriend. She'd been away in New Orleans with her family when it happened and she's still there.

At least that's what you thought until you heard the sounds of footsteps, someone's walking up behind you. You turn around, letting the water water back into the river from the air.

You let out a sigh of relief when you see it's Hope. You jump down from the rock and walk into her open arms. She wraps her arms around you tightly as you cling to her. You bask in her warmth. Finally someone who's not staring at you as if you were missing your head.

You breathe in her scent of floral perfume and tropical shampoo. "I missed you" You mumble into her neck. "I missed you too." She squeezes you before pulling away slowly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when it all happened" She holds your hands in her own. Josie filled her in on what happened when she got back to the school this morning.

She was shocked you hadn't phoned or texted her about it. Honestly, she does get why you hadn't, it must've been really overwhelming and you didn't want to bother her. She's been trying to slowly get you to open up to her, it's a working progress.

She had been searching the entire school for you until she realized where you'd obviously be. Your favorite place in Mystic Falls, the falls. You took her there on your guys' date when you told her about your powers and about being a siren.

"It's alright, I didn't I want to bother you. You don't get much time with your family" You muster up a soft smile. "Well, it isn't everyday your girlfriend's secret is exposed. At least half exposed." She tells you.

"Who told you?" You sigh, you really didn't want Hope to feel sorry for you. "Josie did. And I don't want you to think I'm just doing this because I feel sorry for you" She tells you.

You snap your eyes back up from gazing at her hair, "How'd you, what, can you read minds?" You try not to stutter.

"You have that look in your eyes" Hope tells you and brings your right hand up, placing a kiss to it. You tilt your head in a questioning way. "What?" Her eyebrows furrow.

"I'm trying to figure out if you're a robot or not" You tell her with no joke in your voice. "Ahuh, very funny" Hope chuckles before leading you over to the water.

"How are you, really?" She links her arm with yours. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts while watching the water fall.

"I'm not saying I'm okay, but it will be. I know it will be. I just need to wait for everything to die down at the school." You explain softly to her as birds chirp in the background.

"Thank you for being honest with me" She rests her head against your shoulder. "Of course. You know I don't try to lie to you, right?" You ask her in a quiet voice, almost whisper.

"Yes, I do, Babe. I know you don't" She holds onto your arm. "Good. So you'll forgive me this then" A mischief glint appears in your eyes, not that your girlfriend can see.

"What are you talking about- hey!" She exclaims when you pick her up and then run into the river, splashing both of you into the cold water. "Oh, I am so gonna kill you!" She splashes water towards you after you drop her in front of you (safely, don't worry).

"You're gonna have to catch me first" You smirk and dive into the water, swimming deeper into the river. "You're on" She chuckles and swims after you.

She shreds the water out of her way as she tries keeping up with you. Though, she realizes it's basically useless. You slow your pace down and stop, turning around to take pity on your tribrid girlfriend.

"You okay, Baby?" You stifle your chuckle at your panting girlfriend as she slowly crawls her way over to you.

"Okay, no fair, you're basically a mermaid" She pants, wrapping her arms around your neck, and legs around your torso to hold herself up in the water.

"And I just realized how out of shape I am" She lets out a massive puff of breath. "Oh, please, if you're out of shape, then I'm a pirate" you raise an eyebrow, making her laugh.

She then takes in your appearance, your eyes look so beautiful and your wet hair makes you look gorgeous with how it falls down by your face.

Before she knows it, she leans in and passionately kisses you. You wrap your arms around her waist as your kiss your girlfriend back. She whines when you pull away. "Why?" She pouts to you.

"I'm sorry, Baby, it's getting late, we should probably be heading back to the circus ring" you tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She looks down at your guys' clothing, she then pauses. "We're soaking wet" She states. "Yes we are" a smile quirks at your lips.

"We're soaking wet in our clothing." She tells you, her eyes widened. "It's alright, I promise you we can snuggle all night" You promise as you start to walk out of the body of water.

You carry her all the way out of the water to the giant rock you we're resting upon earlier. "I'm gonna hold you to it" She mumbles as she's set down back on the ground.

"I don't doubt it" You wrap an arm around her shoulder.

When you notice Hope shivering, you raise your hand and all the water raises from both your bodies, hair, and clothing. And then swish them back into the river.

"There, a little bit warmer" You kiss her cheek.

[striveattemptfail]

Minor Differences | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.9k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 20 – Pop Culture

Summary: Five times Logan learns something new about the timeline he's in (and one time it was for the better). Inspired by this post by @nichknack. Rated for language. Takes place some time after the movie's events; just assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. More gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Read on Ao3

A/N: Once again, I'm taking today's prompt fast and loose so forgive me in advance 😅🙏 Un-beta'd but quite frankly it's a miracle I even finished on time lmao. Can you believe this was originally supposed to be ~600 words? (ノ_<、)

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The first time Logan notices that his new timeline isn’t identical to his old one, it’s over a subtle name change.

He’s reading the Saturday paper in the living room, Wade watching some reality show on the seat next to him with Mary Puppins in his lap, when Althea leaves her room and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Alexa,” she calls out, “what time is it?”

A robotic voice replies, “The time is 5:43pm.”

Logan drops the newspaper from obscuring his face. He immediately finds the source of the reply on the coffee table: a grey, cylindrical device that looks like a mini speaker, control buttons on its side. It blinks a turquoise light around the rim until the light turns off with a muted beep at the extended silence.

“What the fuck?” he wonders out loud, surprised to see such a familiar gadget.

“Have you not interacted with an Echo before, peanut?” Wade asks. “Did you not have Bezos’ army of listening devices where you’re from?”

Althea barks out a hollow laugh. “You keep calling the damn thing a spy machine—”

“Because I don’t trust it!”

“—but you keep it right there anyway.” She scoffs, making her way to the fridge. “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Well, it’s also convenient!” Wade argues. “Do you miss when I used to shoot the lights off?”

“What the fuck?” Logan says again, but for a completely different reason this time.

“Listen,” Wade starts, and from his tone Logan can tell some bullshit is about to leave his mouth, “sometimes a guy just wants to pass out after walking in at ass o’clock in the morning without having to get up when he forgets to deal with the lights!”

“So you shot the damn lights out?” Logan guesses. “Is that why all the light switch panels are just exposed? Because you shot the fuckin’ plates off?”

“Alexa, tell peanut to stop bullying me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that command,” the device says. “Would you like to—”

“Alexa, shut up.”

The cylinder goes quiet with a beep.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wade says before Logan gets a chance to berate him more. “Did your world not have Echos?”

“We did,” he admits, “but they were called Alexis.”

“Like Texas!” Wade shoots him a wink before chuckling to himself.

(Presumably to himself, because Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about, as usual.)

Before either of them can elaborate, Althea yells from where she’s bent over in front of the open fridge, “Wade, did you put the fucking milk carton back empty again?!”

Their attention quickly shifts from there.

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The next time Logan notices, it’s over something equally innocuous.

He and Wade hate talking to the authorities when they finish a mission, but none of the X-Men who are way better suited to dealing with humans made it in time to stop their target. He and Wade finished the job before those asscracks even left the X-Mansion, which meant the two of them had to deal with the aftermath until someone more qualified arrived.

“I’ll play you for it!” Wade finally suggests after five whole minutes of arguing over who should talk to the police chief.

He sticks his hands out, a fist over a flat palm. Logan rolls his eyes but dutifully mimics the gesture.

“After three, okay?” Wade clarifies. “No cheating!”

“Let’s just get this the fuck over with.”

Wade nods once.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” he counts as Logan simultaneously chimes, “Paper, scissors, rock, bang!”

They don’t even look to see who won. Instead, they mirror each other’s expression: one of total confusion.

“Mr. Deadpool? Mr. Wolverine?” a voice calls behind them—Logan recognizes it as one of the younger detectives Wade was speaking to earlier. “We need one of you now, please.”

He and Wade finally both look at their hands.

Fuck.

“Ha ha, sucker!” Wades hollers, his rock crushing Logan’s scissors. He only grunts in response when Wade quite literally skips away after slapping Logan on the ass. Logan turns around with a flat expression and follows the detective to where the police chief is giving a statement to some reporter.

Whatever. The sooner this is done the sooner he and Wade can go home.

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Another time it happens, Logan’s not even sure if he even remembers the reference correctly.

He and Wade are at the X-Mansion for another mission, catching up with Ellie and Yukio inside the Blackbird jet while Colossus to grabs more a few more people. Logan’s not quite paying attention to the conversation’s details, more enamoured by the strange friendship the two girls have with Wade.

At some point, Ellie says something that makes Yukio giggle and shove her shoulder, causing Wade to cackle out, “Weird flex, but okay!”

Logan furrows his brows but doesn’t comment because Wade’s already pivoted the topic to something else.

He could swear that the saying was odd flex, but very well. If he actively recalls the kids from his old universe, that was what they used to say, right?

(Most days, he usually tries his best to not remember them. The pain may not be fresh anymore but it still hurts all the same. He’ll never be able to hear Kitty, or Jubilee, or Rogue, or Bobby cracking jokes he doesn’t understand but finds amusing nonetheless. Never again.)

Apparently, he’s still deep in thought by the time Laura walks up to him. Her face looks remarkably similar to one he sees on himself all the time—brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips turned downward. At least on Laura the expression looks like a cute pout compared to Logan’s usual, unimpressed glare.

“What’s wrong?” She looks to the other three still caught up in their conversation, not paying Logan any mind. “Did they say something?”

Logan shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling over the kids’ memes from his old life. He’s poked at those memories like an old bruise more than enough now.

“Nah,” he says, mostly telling the truth, “just remembered something.”

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He finally catches on by the following incident.

A song has been driving Logan fucking crazy for the past four hours. The goddamn earworm simply refuses to get out of his head, even with Wade’s incessant rambling at his phone in the background. What he’s blabbing about right this moment, Logan has no clue, because lyrics are on loop in his brain and he can’t hear anything above it.

Time for a replay session, he supposes, taking a seat in the living room. Hopefully making his ears bleed from the melody on constant repeat will finally get it out of his head.

“Hey, bub, can you play that ‘Vegas glowing’ song by Handsome Delight on the Alexis?” he interjects in the middle of Wade’s rant.

Wade furrows his hairless brow-line. “Come again? This time in my ear? Also, it’s still just Alexa.”

“You know,” Logan says, followed by a vague hum. “You walk in over time / ‘Cause we both know you’re mine / Fallin’ straight, don’t look down / Las Vegas glowin’ on the town,” he sings, hoping he has the correct lyrics. “That one?”

“One: Excellent singing, honey badger! Do you practice scales when I’m not listening? Because that voice is—” Wade cuts off to do a chef’s kiss with his fingers. “Two: Nope! Still no clue what that song is.”

“Stop fuckin’ with me, Wade.” Logan grunts, remembering how annoyingly often the song was playing on the radio when he was bar hopping earlier this year. Wade listens to pop music almost exclusively—there’s no way he would’ve escaped this song. “It was in the Top 40s for months. You had to have heard of this.”

Wade just blinks at him. “I really, truly have not.”

“Wait,” he pauses in realization, “does Handsome Delight not exist here?”

“Never heard of them!” Wade confirms, shaking his head and starts typing away on his phone. “Aaaaand Google here only pulls up a very adorable cake when I search that name.” He shows his screen to Logan, who grumbles in frustration after squinting at the results.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Why? What’s up, buttercup?”

“Shit. The damn song’s stuck in my head but I only know that stupid part.” He groans at himself, throwing his head back onto the couch, miffed that he can’t scratch the song’s itch like he thought. “I was hoping I could put it on repeat so I’d finally get it out of my system.”

“Sorry, peanut!” Wade pats his shoulder. “If it helps though, I can sing anything you want to rid you of the earworm plaguing you! I’ll be your personal jukebox!”

His answer is automatic. “I’d rather chop my ears off.”

Wade, obviously, starts singing anyway.

“You are! My fiiiire—”

Logan promptly sticks a claw into each ear. He might have pushed a little too far and nicked his brain a bit on both sides, which is just fine because the injury causes him to briefly pass out, a good solution as any at this point.

The last thing he sees is Wade’s comically dismayed face.

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Logan accepts that this universe is just weirdly different after one more incident.

He and Wade made it home too goddamn late last night after finishing a job that took way too fucking long, which meant they both pass out for a solid eight hours and wake up well past noon for their first meal of the day. Althea had already left to do her own business (Logan never asks her what she’s up to, and he’s probably better for it) and took along Mary Puppins, so it’s just him and Wade in the kitchen.

Wade’s already sitting at the table, digging into something from a silvery packet when Logan shuffles by.

“Mornin’, peanut.”

“Hrm.”

“Figured I’d get some real food later, but I’m too damn tired right now, so, y’know—” he lifts up what Logan finally sees is a Pop-Tart, “—Pop-Tarts.”

Logan assesses that he is also too damn tired to actually cook himself a meal, but also too hungry to ignore his appetite. He combs through the cupboards with a quiet hum until he can kick his ass to get some real food. He eventually decides to follow Wade’s lead to eat something now and order more food later, going to the cabinet and bypassing Wade’s stock of sugary children’s cereal for the Special K.

“Not digging into the Raisin Bran, old man?” Wade teases.

“I may be old,” he tosses right back, “but I don’t need to act like it too.” He grabs the milk (a new carton because Althea chewed Wade out last time), a bowl, and a spoon, bumping the utensil drawer closed with his hip. Then, he makes his way to the kitchen table to sit across from Wade.

As always, he pours the milk first.

“Logan,” Wade says slowly, his eyes growing wide with what looks like concern, “why the fuck are you pouring the milk before the cereal?”

“Because that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” Logan shoots him a bewildered look because that’s how everyone does it? He’s pretty sure it’s common knowledge to pour the milk first so you get an even distribution of crunch. He’s adding the cereal in when he asks, “What the fuck are you on about?”

Wade’s horrified gaze flickers back and forth between Logan and his bowl. “That’s so fucking cursed.”

At this point, Logan doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response, digging into his bowl with a dismissive grunt and shake of his head. He very purposefully ignores the implication that people on this planet pour the cereal first.

Now that’s fucking cursed.

Logan may have been engineered to be a wild animal, but he’s not a goddamn savage.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

&1

Logan finds out that Dolly Parton is still alive on this planet.

He considers forgiving the cereal before milk bullshit just for that.

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[im-sleepdeprived]

Crazier • Pt. 2

wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)

warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school

read part 1 here

The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way. 

"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero. 

His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."

"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder. 

"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.

So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you. 

"Can I ask why you're crying?" 

"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used. 

You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass." 

"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him. 

"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did. 

"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"

You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."

You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?" 

You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well. 

"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly. 

"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time. 

"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."

"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again. 

He decided he'd take what he could get. 

You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more. 

"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside. 

Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too. 

When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open. 

You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea. 

Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid. 

While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge. 

"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes. 

"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot." 

He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."

You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day. 

"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that. 

"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged. 

"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"

You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."

His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things. 

"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling. 

"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay." 

"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."

So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip. 

He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.

Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side. 

He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"

You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."

That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him. 

"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle. 

You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"

He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him? 

"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?" 

"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything. 

"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be. 

You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.

"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything,  just in case.'

"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."

You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."

Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so. 

"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was. 

You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on." 

But deep down, neither of you believed that. 

You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying. 

It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost. 

Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood. 

You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you. 

"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical. 

"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage. 

"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that. 

"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade. 

"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment. 

It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.   

Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall. 

"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. 

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious. 

You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."

She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"

"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued. 

"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little. 

"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways. 

She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him. 

The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard). 

Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.

There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could. 

You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream. 

"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant. 

She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.

You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know. 

"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,

"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."

MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.

"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist. 

As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels. 

You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet. 

"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it. 

"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly. 

"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce. 

"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did. 

"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice. 

"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely. 

"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves. 

"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered. 

MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."

you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was. 

"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes. 

It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them. 

So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was. 

"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement. 

They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone. 

"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true. 

"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal. 

"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree. 

"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested. 

"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered. 

Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud. 

Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again. 

As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun. 

"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention. 

he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped. 

"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over. 

you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two. 

"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her. 

"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question. 

"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh. 

The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"

"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing. 

"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N." 

You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."

"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."

"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped. 

You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated. 

She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes." 

You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door. 

"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder. 

"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again. 

"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,

"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring. 

He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors. 

"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."

"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you. 

"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you. 

"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement. 

"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper. 

You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"

The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question. 

You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment. 

The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists. 

You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in. 

You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed. 

"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it. 

You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you." 

He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close. 

You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit. 

Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"

Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you. 

"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin. 

"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious. 

"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this. 

"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns. 

You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing. 

"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed. 

You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."

She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."

You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry. 

You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls. 

You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"

Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."

"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh. 

"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile. 

You were dead set on doing everything on this list

A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick. 

You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this. 

You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"

She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered. 

"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks. 

"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far. 

"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."

You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."

"We have to steal the principal's desk chair." 

"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head. 

"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why. 

Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."

Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you. 

the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."

"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered. 

"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."

You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed. 

You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you. 

"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead. 

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal. 

"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask. 

"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."

Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him. 

You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her. 

"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."

"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion. 

You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about. 

Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."

Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter. 

Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled. 

You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.

You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter. 

"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide. 

"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?" 

She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves. 

The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up. 

They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces. 

"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time. 

You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked. 

They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other. 

"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"

The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement. 

Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."

Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"

"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.

"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips. 

"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."

"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left. 

Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"

Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."

You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"

"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod. 

You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,

"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."

Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."

Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"

they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind. 

You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said. 

"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad 

"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.

You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."

You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."

"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"

he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked. 

You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."

He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?" 

You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side. 

You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building. 

As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.

read part 3 here !!

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy

ethan landry x reader

warnings: a little bit of plot, smut obv, fingering, blowjob, “nipple play” like barely, and ethan’s a lowkey sub

notes: i watched scream 6 yesterday and i had to like this man is just so fine. also this takes place at the party so technically he isn’t ghostface just yet so we’ll leave it at that. just a normal college boy :)

if you like this lmk what other stuff you’d want to read for ethan, in need of prompts!!!

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

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it was halloweekend and you and your friends came to a frat party. you and tara had dressed as pirates just grabbing stuff that was left around. the party was going pretty well, well until you took a long swig of a bottle of pink whitney and ran upstairs after seeing your ex hooking up with this girl that was “just a friend”, what a load of bullshit. you went into the nearest unlocked room, closing the door behind you and locking it.

“fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, “fuck me in the fucking ass.”

you turned around to go sit down on the bed and there sat ethan, well a rather red faced ethan after your remark, just looking at you. ethan was a part of your friend group, the cute dorky guy. his cardboard robot costume was littered on the floor, leaving him in his joggers and a shirt. you were surprised he wasn’t somewhere with chad getting a pep talk to finally talk to a girl.

“hey,” he greeted giving you a small wave as if you two weren’t the only people in the room.

“god were you gonna say anything sooner I didn’t know anyone was in here,” you answered as you walked over and sat in front of him while his back was against the headboard.

“oh sorry, my bad.”

“nah it’s fine, worse shit has happened to me tonight that’s for sure.”

“like what,” he inquired.

“well for starters my ex is fucking the bitch that he said he was “just friends” with during our whole relationship so,” you responded hurriedly and angrily.

“oh i’m so sorry, that’s messed up.”

“yes it is, welcome to my life pretty boy”

you hadn’t meant to say the nickname out loud but that long drink was starting to hit you and you couldn’t care less at the moment. ethan blushed at your comment, looking down unable to meet you eye.

“hey,” you told him, “look at me.”

you grabbed both sides of his face with your hands and giggled, “such a pretty boy with pretty lips.”

at this point ethan was bright red and speechless, just muttering words trying to form a sentence, “l-l-l-look i think you’re drunk.”

“i’m fine, anyways i have a question.”

“ok,” he gulped, “what’s up.”

with your answer you pulled his head closer to you own, lining your lips up right next to his ear, “do you think it’s fair that my ex gets to fuck someone tonight and i don’t?”

as you finished your sentence you could feel ethan’s breath hitch in his throat, it made you smile. you moved his head back in front of you so you were face to face once again.

“is it?,” you reiterated

ethan quickly shook his head no, unable to speak. with your hands still on his neck you moved his head closer to you once again but this time your lips were only an inch away.

“i couldn’t hear you pretty boy, i said do you think it’s fair that i don’t get fucked tonight.”

“n-no,” he answered quickly.

“great, glad to know we’re on the same page,” you said quickly as you brought his lips to yours and kissed him.

you could tell he was shocked by the suddenness of the kiss because his lips were kind of stiff but moments later they melted into the kiss. you led the kiss, poking your tongue past his lips to entangle his tongue with your own, and with this you could hear his moans. it was music to your ears. without breaking the kiss you moved to straddle his waist, as his hands fell to your own, lowering yourself on his clothed length that was hardening by the second. this pressure caused him to let out a grunt into the kiss as he bucked his hips, hitting your center. you tangled your hands with the curly hair at the nape of his neck, yanking it back towards the headboard, separating the kiss so you were looking in each other’s eyes. both of you were breathing heavily, ethan’s lips all pink and swollen from your kissing, fuck he was so hot. breathless he looked up at you while you took off your vest to reveal yourself in a white shirt that you’d spilled on earlier at the party. with no bra on your nipples were exposed through the fabric and you think ethan may have died right then and there.

he began to move his hands from your waist up the sides of your body until they rested right next to your tits. he looked at you as he slowly took one hand to grope one of them. you bit your lip at this feeling, as his hands were both rough and soft as he kneaded your tit. watching you still he swiped his thumb across your clothed nipple earning a lustful reaction. you moaned and muttered curses under your breath, with you head rolling back. he took this as encouragement to continue. he resumed with both hands massaging and kneading your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples now and then. all this made your core ache as you felt the wetness pooling between your legs, you rolled your hips against ethan’s dick chasing some sort of friction. you took your top off and laid your tits bare to him. and he took this opportunity to latch his lips to one of your nipples, nibbling and swirling his tongue around it while still playing with the other. your body jolted at this sudden rush of pleasure, you couldn’t keep quiet,

“oh fuck ethan,” you moaned as he licked you nipple.

breaking his contact with your tit you bring his face to yours once again and resume the kiss, the rhythm much faster and fervent this time. your lips molded together perfectly with the occasional moan into the kiss as ethan still played with your nipples. you reached under his shirt, looking for bare skin to touch and you felt the ridges of his abs fuck you forgot how ripped he was. you broke the kiss to pull his shirt off his head needing to see his bare chest. after it was off he leaned forward to reconnect your lips but you pushed him back,

“my turn.”

and you leaned forward placing kisses on his neck as he moaned in response. you sucked on special spots, sure to leave a mark that’d show later. it was so hot hearing him moan under your touch, he bucked his hips as you kissed under his ear in hopes of some sort of friction. as you continued to kiss all over his body your hand trailed to the waistband of his sweatpants, tracing his v-line into the article of clothing. you palmed his clothed length feeling him jolt underneath your touch,

“oh oh my god,” he breathlessly moaned unable to come up with any other words.

suddenly you felt his hand creep under your skirt and onto your own bundle of nerves, massaging the mound through your panties.

“oh ethan,” you moaned

wanting to touch more of him you reached your hand into his joggers until his own grabbed your wrist and stopped you. confused you looked up at him tilting your head slightly.

“umm,” he muttered quietly, “i-i wanna do you first.”

with his hand still on your heat he began to rub over your clothed center once again. you hummed in agreement as his fingers sent shocks through your body. you soon reconnected the kiss, wanting to feel him on your lips as he played with your pussy. you felt him drag your panties to the side, exposing your bare cunt directly to his fingers. this new feeling caused you to jolt up but you felt his other hand on your waist holding you down. he swiped his finger through your arousal and around your entrance until he dipped his middle finger into the hole, burying it deep inside you. you loudly gasped, pulling away from the kiss as you jolted up a bit.

“oh my god, did that hurt, i’m so sorry, shouldn’t have done that,” ethan rambled

he began to remove his hand from your cunt until you stopped him.

“don’t fucking move.”

you pushed yourself back down onto his finger, moaning the entire way down. he watched as you squirmed on top of his hand until he was fully inside you again.

“pretty boy please move your finger,” you teased.

ethan quickly snapped out of his daze and began to finger you slowly, curling his finger so he was pressing on the bundle of nerves that had built up over this time.

“another…” you spoke breathlessly, “another finger.”

he obliged sliding his ring finger into you, the new pressure began to spur you towards the edge but there’s something you still needed.

practically fucking yourself on his fingers you whined, “faster ethan, you need to go faster. you’re not gonna hurt me.”

and that simple ask was all it took for him to rapidly increase his pace. he immediately started to pound his fingers into you, curling them repeatedly to hit your spot.

you cried out, “fuck oh my- i’m gonna cum,” and this only spurred him on as he captured one of your tits in his mouth and violently sucked on your nipple.

and suddenly you froze, your pussy clenched around ethan’s fingers and your legs felt weak as your orgasm ripped through you. your head fell onto his chest out of exhaustion, and his fingers were still inside you through your high as you clenched violently around them. you kissed him softly, a bit tired after your insane orgasm. slowly you pulled his hand out from under you, gasping at the loss of his fingers inside of you. you placed his middle and ring finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around them, cleaning them of your arousal. he looked at you, mouth wrapped around his fingers and felt a twitch in his pants. he breathed heavily as you pulled yourself off of his fingers and he pulled you in for a kiss, tasting you on your own tongue. as you made out you moved your hand once again to palm his clothed dick but wasted no time reaching into his pants. you felt his bare length, veins bulging as you felt his tip was already leaking insane amounts of precum. he shuddered viciously into the kiss under your touch.

“you’re big pretty boy,” you whispered into his ear as you swiped your finger over his slit that was leaking precum.

“oh my god,” he started as you began to move your hand up and down his shaft slowly. he roughly groaned, shifting on the bed as you began to speed up. you watched him intently with his eyes screwed shut and heavy breathing. you spit down between the two of you, onto his cock so your hand would glide better on his skin. this unfamiliar feeling caused ethan to buck his hips, fucking himself into your hand.

“oh fuck i’m gonna- oh my god,” he groaned as he finished in your hand, eyes screwed shut and his dick twitching as he shot out loads of cum onto your stomach. you kept pumping him through his orgasm until he was whimpering and letting out a string of profanities under his breath.

he didn’t even know how hot he was, sitting there violently moaning as he came all over you, god you needed him. as he opened his eyes, you grabbed his face and placed a couple pecks to his lips.

“you’re cute when you cum pretty boy,” you said to him, making him turn red immediately.

you pulled him closer to you and kissed him thoroughly once again until you both heard a violent knock on the door, causing you both to jump.

“ethan are you in there, it’s chad we gotta go, her ex pissed her off and we can’t find her,” spoke the voice.

ethan looked at you and responded still out of breath, “ok yea i’ll be out in a second, just gimme a minute.”

“alright,” chad responded.

as his footsteps faded away before getting off ethan’s lap you whispered to him, “you owe me a fuck.”

[hannie-dul-set]

the breakup soup [preview].

SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader. GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, mild angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, there is only one bed trope will be sprinkled in there somewhere. WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, sex jokes, will add more as i move forward. WORD COUNT. preview: 2.8k | full fic: est. 15k.

RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. had a bathroom thought. wondered "wouldn't it be funny if a couple breaks up during an org meeting" and it has led me to this dumpster fire. i think it's funny. i hope you think it's funny. i understand that there might be some unfamiliar org jargon here and there, so please feel free to ask me for clarifications if some things are unclear so i can fix them in the final fic!

preview under the cut.

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.” 

Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.

“Public Information Officer 1?”

“Present and voting.”

“PIO 2?

“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”

“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”

“Prese—”

“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”

“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?” 

Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

“Present and voting.”

Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page. 

It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.

“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.

Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you. 

Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”

No answer. You scoff.

“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?” 

Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.

“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.

“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”

“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”

The office door swings open. 

“Sorry, I’m late!”

And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”

“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”

Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.

“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”

He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.

Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?

“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”

You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”

Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”

You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”

A very bad feeling.

“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”

“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.” 

Your face stiffens.

Jeonghan just cut you off. 

Shit, he just cut you off. 

He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”

“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”

Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.

“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, you called him by his first name. 

You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”

Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”

Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”

Oh no. Oh god, no.

Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”

Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”

He doesn’t get paid for this at all.

“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone. 

“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”

Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.

“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”

“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”

This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.

“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”

But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?

“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”

What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?

“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”

Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.

“Did you just swear at me?”

Nevermind.

There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”

Well shit.

This meeting is done for.

Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.

“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”

“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan. 

“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”

“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”

“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”

“Great!”

“Great.”

“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”

“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”

“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”

Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.

“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”

Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.

Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in. 

“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”

He groans.

Is it too late to file a resignation?

THE BREAKUP SOUP. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[rintoki]

visitors in the night

characters: kafka x dom!fem!reader

cw: use of strap, rough sex, mentions of somnophilia, reader might be like a robot or smth idk what’s going on with them

a/n: i have no clue what i was wafflin on about something about story setting i think i had a headache ok idk also sorry for any spelling / grammar / punctuation mistakes. even though reader is not actually gendered they just have a fem body, can be read as wlw, read it if u want to idk.

“kafka.”

you glanced up at the purple-haired woman from the book you were reading in bed, watching silently as she pushes it to the side, sidling into your lap.

she doesn’t speak a word, her body language telling you enough. the silk robe wrapped loosely around her body brushes against your skin, and out of your periphery you can see it falling to the sides of her thighs, exposing the milky white skin to you—surely all to get you to pay attention to her. but you can’t find it in yourself to entertain it, eyes boring into hers as you waited for her to explain the interruption.

kafka pouts when you seem unfazed by her advances, resting her arms around your shoulders and leaning in a little closer, “come on…”

she all but purrs into your ear, pressing her body against yours in yet another attempt to get a reaction out of you. to be perfectly honest, you weren’t expecting this out the her. sure, at one point, you played with and entertained her, thinking it’d be a one time thing and you’d both move on. but the enigmatic woman has come waltzing back to you just one too many times to be ‘just for fun’, clearly making herself at home in your residence. you sighed, this is going to be a long night.

and on your lap, kafka shivers. the thin material of her robe doing nothing to keep her warm from the cold air, and instead relying on the heat from your body. a jarring contrast from the iciness in your expression, the very same disinterest that first drew her in. with excitement beginning to swirl in her lower belly, kafka readjusts herself, loosening the knot that held her robe together and letting it slip lower on her shoulders.

“kafka,” you repeated, your eyes fall to the side as you reluctantly set down the half-read book to finally pay full attention to the woman on your lap. the sound of her name falling from your lips sent shivers down her spine, her back arching just a little.

“did you need something?”

she smiles; lips curling as her eyes scan over your face, tracing the curve of your jawline before finally resting on the neckline of your dress shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned with a clear view of your cleavage.

“don’t be like that, darling. i think we both know what i need from you,” she sounds almost breathless, her voice low as one hand reaches for the button that struggled to hold your blouse together, the soft cotton stretching tight over your chest. with a soft sigh, you put your hand over hers, effectively stopping any attempt to unbutton your top.

“i don’t believe i received any message from you about what you might need?” you tilted your head to the side, sitting up a little straighter as you slowly brought her hand to your lips, giving it a soft kiss before placing it where it was previously—wrapped around your shoulders.

“i’m sorry, should i have scheduled an appointment with you?”

“that would be ideal…” your voice trails off as you wrapped an arm around her waist, gently laying her on the bed as your other hand supported you. kafka smiles up at you, breathing deeply as your head dips down to kiss her neck, your arm wrapped securely around her waist; your slow, steady movements beginning to drive her mad.

“then i’ll have time to prepare,” you whispered, bringing your hand from around her waist to cup her breast, massaging it through the silk robe. you hear a soft sigh from the woman, her chest pushing against your hand as you thumb brushed over her nipple.

your lips traveled down her collarbone, pushing one side of the robe aside as you beginning to kiss around her breast, purposefully avoiding her sensitive bud that you know she likes to be touched. kafka’s breath quickens, feeling her back muscles tensed as you tease around it, her grip on your shirt tightening.

“prepare?” her voice was beginning to sound strained, breathing unevenly as you continued to kiss around her breast, everywhere except where she wants to feel your mouth the most, meanwhile the other side was left neglected and aching. kafka presses her head back into the mattress, her body begging for more but not wanting to push you for it. had it been anyone else, she might have just forced them into what she wants, take over their will to do her bidding. but for reasons unknown, that doesn’t work with you. which then begs the question of why she keeps coming back to you knowing you’d tease her like this. she doesn’t quite want to think about that yet, though, instead focusing on your hand that pushes apart her legs, fingers tracing along her thighs.

“to fuck you, of course.”

—

at this point, kafka wasn’t really sure how long it’s been, her hands gripping the soft sheets as you left get your strap. it actually hasn’t been that long yet, perhaps maybe a half hour had passed since she first sat on your lap. but in her lust-fuelled mind, it felt like hours considering you have yet to fuck her like promised.

instead, you spent the time kissing and caressing her body, massaging her chest and teasing her nipples. and you were so fucking good at that, licking and sucking on her sensitive buds until they felt raw and swollen. and even after you would continue to roll the buds between your fingers, until you drew out soft whimpers from her, shying away from your touch and yet her hips trembled with need.

“finally,” kafka mutters, watching from her spot on the bed as you came back with the toy, her purple eyes following your every move as you slipped it on and secured it in place. just the sight of it aroused her further, anticipating the feeling of your cock buried in her walls already.

her robe was a mess; the lower half pushed to the sides to expose her pretty pussy to you, glistening even in the dim lighting of the room. even so you stopped her from undoing the knot that held it together, “keep it on, i quite like it actually.”

kafka only smiles in response, holding your gaze as you crawled over to her once again, before hooking her legs over your forearms and pushing it up. now in this position, it was much more obvious how wet you’ve got her, pussy oozing with juices as it awaits your cock. her breathing gets heavier again as you continuing to toy with her, her walls clenching and unclenching. your fingers brushed along her entrance and watching as more fluid leaks out her, and an involuntary twitch of her hips.

“come on,” she groans, leaning her head back and wiggling her hips, urging you to do something already. you could only laugh in return, before lining up the tip of the dildo to her hole, and in one swift motion, pushed into her pussy completely.

“ah—!” the yelped that escaped her lips was uncharacteristic, and ‘surprise’ was not an emotion she could relate to, but the feeling of your cock buried fully inside her in one thrust was unexpected. instead she had expected you to take your time, fucking her slow and steady until she can no longer take it.

but now kafka could feel your cock in her belly, pushing against her insides so deeply that she could barely breathe. without even giving her time to adjust to the sudden stretch, you’ve already beginning moving your hips, pushing deep into her with every thrust and making sure your hipbones pressed against her ass every time.

you kept your breathing steady, and your movements sharp, pressing kafka’s thighs down until she was almost folded in half, forming a pretty V-shape as her legs hung limply. to you, it merely felt like a workout, the only pleasure you received from this was watching the woman below you gasp and moan out from your relentless thrusts. watching her normally collected composure crumble, and her eyes roll back with pleasure.

even as kafka started to squirt halfway through, her juices spraying out every time you pulled out, you kept up your brutal pace, pushing back in full force. her body bounced with your thrusts, and every movement caused her sensitive nipples to brush against the silk fabric which only amplified the sensations running through her body.

now, sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, and kafka’s gasps for air filled the room. her hands gripped your arms, nails digging into your skin but you barely noticed it, fully focused on the woman beneath, watching every rise of her chest and every twitch of her hips. you’ve done this enough to know, what her body likes the best.

kafka could barely take a full breath between each of your thrusts, and it didn’t matter how tightly her pussy walls clenched; not when you’re pulling out and forcing it back in like that. pleasure coiled in her lower belly, tightening until it was almost unbearable. she could feel her hips and thighs quivering, the muscles struggling against your grip. in and out and in and out, kafka feels her mind getting dizzier, your cock felt so good inside as her back arches, right on the verge of an orgasm before it all suddenly stops.

in an instant, all sensations was ripped from her and she could no longer feel your warmth. somewhere in her mind, she just barely registers the whine that leaves her throat, body aching for your touch, your cock, once again. so out of it that she doesn’t even notice you flipping her to her front, face buried in the sheets as you lift her hips off the bed. the moans that escaped her lips she can’t even care to muffle; high-pitched and needy when you pull her hips back onto your cock, the lewd sounds echoing through the room.

the orgasm that you had so cruelly ripped from her was quickly building again, this time much faster as the tip of your cock pressed against the swollen bundle of nerves within her with every thrust. pain and pleasure mixed together under your bruising pace, kafka was sure that she’d feel it in the morning, but she cannot complain. after all, this was what she wanted—what she needed from you.

this time, you don’t stop. even as her pussy ached from oversensitivity and the bed below has been completely drenched with her juices, your hips continues to fuck the cock into her. until nothing but shaky breathing could be heard from the woman below you, her body falling limply to the bed as you finally released her hips, imprints of your hands pressed into the milky skin.

—

thankfully, you still remembered the page you left off in the book you were reading, picking it up as you sat back in the spot you were in previously. having now showered and cleaned up, you were ready to resume your peaceful reading.

on the other side of the bed, kafka was still in the same position you had left her in. whether she had fallen asleep or passed out, you didn’t really care to know. and you could still see her body twitching occasionally; surely an after effect of your actions. well, it didn’t matter. you would finish your reading and go to sleep, and in the morning when you awoke again, she would already be gone.

—

when kafka awoke, the room was dark and you had long since fallen asleep. her body felt stiff and sore after what you did, but ultimately she can say gave her exactly what she needed. that you fucked her until she passed out was amazing in itself, but leaving her like that and going to sleep yourself was clinical. the coldness and disinterest from you that she can’t get enough of, her pussy throbbed as she observed your sleeping body, how easy it would be to use you to get off right now, rip off the damned clothes that hid your body from her hungry eyes.

instead she reels herself in; there was work to be done. biting down on her bottom lip, she drags her spent body off the bed, only now realising the huge stains left on the sheets. she assumes embarrassment is what she should be feeling now, but instead she finds a pen and some paper.

i’ll pay for the sheets. my apologies, you were just too good. ♡

as she leaves your residence, kafka pulls out her phone. thinking back to your words earlier, she smiles as she drafts a message scheduled to be sent to you.

‘i’ll be coming over again tomorrow night. don’t say i didn’t schedule an appointment with you.’

[ikroah]

A girl can get somewhere in spite of stringy hair or even just a bit bowed at the knees if she can show a faultless…personality! —“Personality,” Johnny Mercer and the Pied Pipers (1946)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #26 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding V

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

ohhhhh my god why did i make this script so long my hand hurts this took forever aaaaagh

Welcome to the Lucky 38! This is a script that has remained basically the same for a long time but went through COUNTLESS extremely small rewrites over the course of production just to really nail Mr. House's dialogue. He's a long-winded guy, this whole issue is basically just him doing monologues, and I wanted to make sure it was all interesting and non-repetitive. I think I took out at least three uses of "merely" from the first draft.

One of the biggest production decisions of this issue was whether or not to cut the scene with Agnes and Cass and Victor, which immediately follows the end of the previous issue. The reason to include it was because it very necessarily established the change in location from the Vegas Strip to the Lucky 38 penthouse, which would have been jarring otherwise; the reason to exclude it was that it the issue was already extremely long and I thought opening right on Mr. House would have been more impactful. Ultimately, I did keep it, which was a good decision, but only because of the literally issue-saving idea to convey it as closed-circuit television footage instead of actual panels. Every single attempt at overlaying them with the lead-in to Mr. House was way too busy, but that idea really tied the page together like a nice rug.

And lastly, the framing device of the tarantula and the tarantula hawk was actually an extremely late addition to the comic. I had already finished the first three pages when I thought of it. My problem was that Mr. House's constant monologuing and Agnes' sad expressions got pretty repetitive. I needed something to break the action up while adding thematic heft and artistic variety. I've become a real enthusiast for wasps and tarantulas over the last couple months, so this one really was just a stroke of luck. It took only minimal revisions to make room for the framing device, with the most dramatic change being the complete replacement of the last page (which was originally just a splash page of the Lucky 38 in Vegas; bookending the first and last pages is so much better). So you see, the only reason for weaving a scene into this issue of a skittish desert-wanderer getting paralyzed and dragged toward a certain demise by a predator almost perfectly evolved to destroy it was just that I like bugs a lot. That's the only reason, yep.

Original Pencils:

Due to all of the photo-collage in the final version of the comic, there's a lot of panels and details that I (thankfully!) didn't have to draw myself. Sorry that the pencil isn't blue on the last three pages, I've been on the move for the holidays so they got scanned in grayscale by accident.

I did experiment with drawing the tarantula framing device myself, but ultimately went with the photo-collage method because the artistic juxtaposition actually made it much more readable when interspersed with the proceedings in the Lucky 38.

Transcript:

EXT. DESERT OUTSIDE OF NEW VEGAS. The city glitters in the distance, nestled between the shadows of mountains, with the spire of the LUCKY 38 towering above all else.

In the wilderness, a TARANTULA emerges from its burrow.

EXT. THE NEW VEGAS STRIP. On closed-circuit television monitors, a SECURITRON ROBOT approaches AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY, saying

VICTOR: Well howdy, partner! Fancy meetin' again here in Vegas!

CASS: What the fuck?

AGNES: Victor?

Unlike the usual police units, VICTOR's robotic "face" is that of a cowboy.

VICTOR: And heck, ya clean up nice! Sure lookin' a lot better now than when I rustled ya outta the bone orchard back in Goodsprings*--

CAP: *As was explained to Agnes way back in IKROAH #2. --Lou

VICTOR: --so how's about ol' Vic skips the rigamarole, huh? 'Fore all my yappin' makes ya want to go back, heh-heh-heh! I'm the welcome wagon, see. I'm to come and collect ya.

CASS: Agnes--

VICTOR: Boss wants t'see you, is what I'm sayin'.

AGNES: Boss?

VICTOR: Only of all of Vegas, friend!

CASS: Agnes.

MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA crawls beneath the starlight.

VICTOR: So why don't we mosey on over to the Lucky 38? And your good pal can come along, too!

CASS: I need to know what the fuck is going on, right now.

AGNES: I...I don't know.

VICTOR: And y'know, boss ain't ever let a soul inside before, least for not as long as I've been rollin' around on my spurs, so this ain't just an everyday social call, mind...

On the closed-circuit television monitors, VICTOR escorts AGNES and CASS to the entryway of the LUCKY 38.

VICTOR: ...but heck, I reckon ya'll oughta get along like franks on a fire! So come on! Lift's in the lobby here, and up to the top floor--and we can get the formalities out of the way before ya'll get [cut off]

INT. THE LUCKY 38 PENTHOUSE.

AGNES stands awestruck, looking upward, bathed in electronic green light. With horror, she ekes out a single question.

AGNES: ...what are you?

???: A "Hello" would have been preferable, but it'll take more than a crude faux pas to tarnish this moment. Who I am, Agnes--

What AGNES is looking at is a gigantic SUPERCOMPUTER and terminal, flanked by closed-circuit television monitors and guarded on both sides by SECURITRON police units. On the supercomputer's massive screen is the green-lit image of a face. The face

MR. HOUSE: --is ROBERT EDWIN HOUSE. The President, CEO, and sole proprietor of New Vegas--and more to the point, the intended recipient of a long delayed package.

AGNES: Oh, you...you mean the platinum chip?

MR. HOUSE: Correct. It's a...very precious artifact of the old world.

MR. HOUSE: My world, once.

In the back of the room, beyond AGNES, is an oil painting of MR. HOUSE, standing outside in front of what must have been a very large robot.

MR. HOUSE: In that world, I was the founder of RobCo Industries--a titan of innovation. We created a litany of robotic solutions for diverse markets, such as the Securitrons that you see here, and even a line of consumer-grade devices like the wrist-mounted Pip-Boy. But the platinum chip was, more than any other, my design. It was my vision.

MR. HOUSE: But it never left the factory in which it was originally made. Before it could even cool off from its assembly...we had the Great War. An international, thermonuclear bombardment of unimaginable power that annihilated the world in all of two hours.

MR. HOUSE: But not the entire world. Not Vegas. Not my Paradise. From my fortress of the Lucky 38, I saw to that. But as for the rest of the world, and my platinum chip--it took generations.

MR. HOUSE: First for the scarce remnants of humanity to crawl out from under their rocks, and for the world to at least resemble a functioning society again in which to do trade. And then for the work itself--of countless scavengers, treasure-seekers, and the like, all contracted to comb over the wreckage of Sunnyvale. It cost millions of caps, and later, New California dollars. And a not insignificant piece of my pre-war fortune as well. I, quite literally, moved mountains.

MR. HOUSE: I do not believe in providence, Agnes, but I do believe in destiny. How else to explain it? It was pristine when it was found. Neither the bombs nor the passage of time had so much as scuffed its sheen. But still...its value far transcended the mere market price of pure platinum.

MR. HOUSE: Amusingly, despite the discovery, I was still only as close to acquiring the chip as I had been originally in 2077. A final ordeal remained for me: how to ensure the safety of the platinum chip en route to its destination, from Sunnyvale to Vegas, without broadcasting its preciousness to thieves, armies, and raiders--or worse, to heavily armed fetishists for pre-war technology like the Brotherhood of Steel?

MR. HOUSE: Misdirection. Through a network of anonymous liaisons, I contracted the Mojave Express for a batch of deliveries, all superficially similar knick-knacks, to various intermediaries of myself. All but one of the orders were totally worthless decoys. But your identity as the carrier of the one genuine item was somehow compromised, leading to you getting attacked, and to the second disappearance of the chip.

MR. HOUSE: But look around you. Look where you are. You've made it, haven't you?

AGNES, still staring up at the visage of MR. HOUSE on-screen, doesn't respond. She frowns, nervous. The SECURITRONS guarding MR. HOUSE observe her stoically.

MR. HOUSE: Let me clarify: I had nothing to do with Benny's ambush. Heavens no! It goes completely against my interests. It would have been a perfectly quotidian day's work for you if not for his, and I stress, unexpected involvement. The platinum chip...belies its significance. For Benny to have not only discovered its delivery route but possibly enough of that significance to motivate such an act, this constituted a very troubling breach of my security. And I had been looking into it...but in a way, the issue seems to have resolved itself. Hm?

MR. HOUSE: A wild card. Now removed from the deck.

AGNES' gaze sinks to the floor.

MEANWHILE, a small shadow blots out the starlight in the desert outside of Vegas. It flies over the exploring TARANTULA.

AGNES looks back up at MR. HOUSE.

AGNES: I killed him.

HOUSE: So you did. I only wish that we could have spoken before you went rogue on my former protégé: if this story breaks, I can grant you amnesty, but not without controversy. And your infamy as an assassin could make our further arrangements quite difficult.

AGNES: Um...I didn't think there would be more to it than delivering the--

MR. HOUSE: Oh! Of course, of course! My apologies. Two hundred years of anticipation and yet I'm still getting ahead of myself. Well--would you mind? I've been waiting a long time for my mail.

The SECURITRON closest to AGNES wheels forward with its claw outstretched. AGNES reaches her fingers into a pocket beneath the belt of her dress to produce it: the PLATINUM CHIP. She holds it in her hand for a brief moment.

MEANWHILE, the shadow descends; the TARANTULA HAWK engages the TARANTULA.

AGNES relinquishes the PLATINUM CHIP to the SECURITRON.

MR. HOUSE: Thank you--it's a relief to pay for this chip for the final time.

The SECURITRON inserts the PLATINUM CHIP into a slot in MR. HOUSE'S supercomputer, feeding it into the drive with a CLIK.

MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA is fighting the TARANTULA HAWK.

From behind AGNES, another SECURITRON presents her with a stack of NEW CALIFORNIA REPUBLIC DOLLARS, which she gingerly takes in her hand and looks over.

MR. HOUSE: And I trust that you're satisfied with the agreed-upon compensation from the delivery contract, yes?

AGNES: Yeah, it's...it's fine...I'll be going now. Thanks.

MR. HOUSE: Oh? But you've only just arrived. I insist that you make yourself at home.

SFX: KZZSZZZTTT

The faces on the screens of the SECURITRONS in MR. HOUSE'S penthouse suddenly change from policemen to soldiers. AGNES recoils and tries to step away.

AGNES: H-hey, uh--

MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA HAWK pierces the underbelly of the TARANTULA with its stinger.

SECURITRONS surround AGNES.

MR. HOUSE: You are the first guest ever through the doors of the Lucky 38, you know. Nobody has so much as checked a coat inside since the war, so this meeting confers you a significant level of privilege...and inevitable celebrity. The people of Vegas have always gossiped, after all. Many have even clawed at the door desperately with dreams of being where you now stand. Surely you can comprehend how this compulsion to leave after such a deliberate and remarkable invitation risks considerable insult--to both myself and my citizenry? And very deliberate this invitation was. Don't you realize: if handing off my package was all for which you were needed, why wouldn't I have just had Victor relieve you of the chip outside? No, no, you see, as necessary as its acquisition was, the chip is ultimately just a key, for unlocking a new frontier...of possibilities.

MR. HOUSE: Possibilities for prosperity, peace, and technological advancement that haven't been seen in two hundred years. Possibilities greater than anything the New California Republic or Caesar's Legion could dream of, let alone achieve, by playing pretend in the clothes of their forebearers and convincing everyone else that it's statecraft. Possibilities--which if they key is turned by human hands--become certainties.

AGNES (a whisper): Are you not human?

MR. HOUSE: Don't let the video screens and computer terminals fool you: I am a living human. No less so than you. I just live with a particular set of, well...handicaps.

AGNES: You said you'd waited hundreds of years to--

MR. HOUSE: One could argue that the world has been waiting hundreds of years for this moment. Waiting for me. For the chip. For the long-dormant doors of the Lucky 38 to finally open, to a single and specially ordained individual: you, Agnes. And there are tremendous things waiting for us, waiting for us to accomplish them, together. I certainly couldn't do them with Benny. What do you say?

MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA has become completely paralyzed by the TARANTULA HAWK'S venom. The TARANTULA HAWK seizes its prey.

AGNES: ...no.

MR. HOUSE: I'm sorry--"No?"

AGNES: Yes--I mean, no. No! I don't want to help you! I...

Tears well in AGNES' eye.

AGNES: ...I just want to go back home.

MR. HOUSE: ...I see. Hmm.

MR. HOUSE: How do I put this in a way you'll understand?

MR. HOUSE: The die is cast.

AGNES, crying, looks up at MR. HOUSE again. Fear bulges on her face.

MR. HOUSE: Throughout the long delivery of this chip, several precise plans and fortuitous coincidences have aligned in just such a way as to make you, you specifically at this exact juncture, an irreplaceable asset in the ongoing endeavor of this wounded world's recovery from otherwise hopeless ruin.

MR. HOUSE: Your cooperation going forward is not merely crucial to this endeavor's success, but it's utterly non-negotiable. Should you entertain the moral issue of what's at stake, it's obligatory, even. It's why your refusal comes as such a...genuine surprise. Can't you see?

MR. HOUSE: I'm not a fascist, Agnes--I would never force you. But given the circumstances, I'm entitled, wouldn't you agree, to at least a brief demonstration of my vision? The vision that the platinum chip promises? Victor has surely seen your companion to the presidential suite by now--my other Securitrons can escort you to the basement, where I'm sure you can make a...properly informed decision.

The SECURITRONS close in on AGNES, who screams in protest.

AGNES: No! I said no! I already delivered your chip, I--I killed Benny! I-- I-- ...what do you want with me!?

MR. HOUSE: Haven't you been listening? I want what's best for you--for us. I know it's a lot, but bear with me for one moment longer, and I can assure you--that this is the beginning of something very incredible.

MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA HAWK has dragged the paralyzed TARANTULA back to the entrance of its own burrow.

The TARANTULA HAWK shoves its helpless prey into the hole, and then crawls in after it.

The TARANTULA is not seen again.

[s0ckh3adstudios]

howdy!! for the undertale gold au, i was wondering if we could see more of dalv? (or starlo, dalv and rover!! like the family portrait)

if not thats ok :) i just wanna see more of how these sillies work in the au

TA-DA!! Finally, after days... UTG Dalv! I Am So Sorry.

Disclaimer Corn Yaoi IS canon in this AU and for those who don't like it. I am sorry HEHEKGHLF It's too late for me to go back and I thought it'd be funny to include it. Too embedded in the lore now

You find out Dalv's backstory not through recorded tapes, but through his diary! You know, how he has one in the Ruins? In turn, Chujin still records tapes.

I actually wrote Dalv's diary entries and will be leaving them under the cut so you can all get your dose of exposition, but I'll give a summary of it below the Diary Entries if you want a TLDR!

Also, I apologize if the writing isn't very good- I tried my best to keep Dalv's character and write out what happened, but I'd probably edit a couple details if I wasn't lazy LMAO

====

SUMMARY:

Dalv and Starlo own a large farming area together where they grow crops for monsters to buy. They were given an opportunity to expand the farm, and their business by association, to the Snowdin area. Starlo was unable to meet with the people in Snowdin about it, so Dalv had to go. He was a bit nervous to do so, Chujin offered to join him! As long as he got to test out his latest project; Axis, a funny little robot. Rover, Dalv and Starlo's kid, also joined them! They wanted to visit Snowdin and play with Chujin's robot. Dalv and Chujin left Axis to watch and play with Rover while they had their meeting. But this is when danger struck. During the meeting, a human came through Snowdin and attacked Rover, even taking their hat. Despite Axis already chasing after the human and Chujin giving Dalv warnings, Dalv ran after the human as well to find his kid's hat.

Dalv did find the human... who was very injured after seemingly having had a run-in with Axis who was oddly nowhere to be found in that moment. When Dalv encountered in the human... something shifted in him. This human hurt his child, they could have taken them away... Seeing them... He felt angry. Without thinking, for reasons he can't really explain, he attacked the human and finished them off for good. In a panic, mortified at what he suddenly did, he stole the soul. He didn't want to admit it, even if this was what monsters were meant to do to humans. The soul was declared missing and Chujin was blamed; there was concern over how much damage Axis caused and the fact that he seemingly killed the human so brutally that he also destroyed the soul which they NEEDED.

Dalv decided he was going to try and use the soul for good and try to infuse its power into his crops! He thought if monsters ate them, they'd gain enough power to last against humans AND possibly bypass the barrier. He couldn't do this alone... So he ended up coming clean to Chujin about what happened. Chujin was VERY mad but figured if he helped, he could maybe get his job back. The two worked on the project and when sprouting their first soul infused crop, a cob of corn, Dalv offered to test it.

....It made him very sick.

When Dalv fell down, he had left a message to Starlo in his diary, telling him to read it after he died. He told Starlo to return the soul and shut down the project entirely. The farms are already in danger just for supposedly having some sort of illness in the crops that Dalv seemingly ate (a lie). But Starlo...... didn't listen. He felt bad that it didn't work out for Dalv and felt bad that he felt horrible about it. He wanted to do it for him. Carry on his legacy. Cling to what left he had of Dalv and what he was working on.

....But it was never meant to be.

[jm-2406]

Just a ring.

Summary - “he has asked me to marry him but I had to come here first. I need to know if you feel anything… anything at all for me.”

Pairing - Theodore Nott x reader; Male OC x reader.

Word count - 2150.

Warnings - infidelity, flashbacks in italics, grown up theo & reader.

Cursive words made their way across the document as he led the pen from left to right, every movement a study in perfection. A famous business wizard like Theodore Nott who hailed from a high class pure blood family, couldn't afford anything less than perfection. He pursed his lips as he focused on getting his signature just right, reading the already typed composition. Mergers, especially one as important as this one needed to be dealt with utmost care, and a very carefully crafted ‘brown nosing’ letter never hurt anyone.

He was feeling very pleased with his efforts when a loud noise from outside his office startled him. Throwing an angry glare towards the closed door, he cursed the person who disturbed him.

“You can't go in there Miss. He's very busy.” His secretary's voice reached his ears. “To hell with his schedule. I don't care.” The other voice responded sharply and he knew who that other person was. He mentally prepared himself for the upcoming drama, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

“I'm sorry Mr. Nott, this—this Woman refused to make an appointment. Should I escort her out?”

Theodore eyed the girl in front of him; she stared back defiantly, challenging him. He wouldn't throw her out but that didn't mean that he couldn't make her sweat. The young woman in front of him started to fidget nervously the longer Theodore kept staring at her without a word. “It's okay Riya. You're excused.” The woman heaved a sigh of relief at his words.

Theodore turned to her and said coldly. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? What is it, [Y/L/N]? Say your piece and spare me. I am too busy to hear your rambling right now.”

[Y/N] scoffed, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to protect herself from his coldness. “Wow. So you can speak more than three words at a time and just my luck that you use them to dismiss me. ‘[Y/L/N]’, ‘my piece’... You are so intolerable Theodore.”

“Then why are you here, love?” He retorted flippantly but her next words made him stop his work.

“He knows…”

“Who knows what, [Y/N]?”

“Alex… he found your waistcoat under the bed… the one you forgot to put on because of some ‘important’ business.” She confessed, her voice shaky. She paused and then opened her mouth to continue, her voice cracking. “He didn't even ask who it belonged to. He said that it didn't matter. He blamed himself, you know…For being gone so often.”

Theodore kept staring at the papers on his desk, completely still. He didn't know what kind of response she was expecting but his mind went blank. He was about to say something when she dropped the final bomb. “He has asked me to marry him.”

Her eyes finally rose up from the floor. He could feel her willing him to look back at her; willing him to show any emotion. But the man kept staring at his desk, forcing himself to pick up the document and continue his letter.

“I haven't answered him yet.” She admitted, “I had to come here first. I had to see you, but you've been avoiding me and… I just need to know if you feel anything, anything at all for me.” She waited for him to respond, waited for any sign from him but he was as cold as ice and just as frozen as he signed his name at the end of his letter.

He continued his work robotically and took a breath only after hearing her footsteps shuffling closer to the door. “I meant what I said that night… I still do.” She whispered and then she was gone, missing the look that crossed his face.

After crying her heart out, [Y/N] kept staring at the end of the room blankly, her mind still stuck on everything that has happened in her life recently. “I am stronger than this.” She whispered to herself. Her head fell against the back of the couch, and she curled a leg up beside her, wrapping her arms around it as she glanced out the window.

It never should have happened, she knew that now, but she still couldn't bring herself to regret that it had. It had all started about six months ago, she and Alex had been having a lot of arguments around that time.

“You promised!” She raised her voice, fed up with his attitude.

“I know babe but this is urgent.” Alex said softly, trying to pacify her but it made her angrier instead.

“Fine. Go wherever you want to. Do whatever you want. But I am not going to keep changing my plans according to you every time. I am going to attend the Christmas Eve party… with or without you.”

“No. You can't do that [Y/N]. What will they say? My reputation will be thrashed.”

“Oh I can and I will. If you care about your ‘reputation’ then come to the event with me.” She asked one last time but only got a shake of head in return as Alex took his briefcase and apparated.

There at the party, [Y/N] found herself in the company of none other than Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherin guys from a year above her. She had never interacted with him outside of the classes. Though she didn't trust him, she couldn't disagree that the man was charming. A few drinks later, she found herself up against a wall in one of the vast deserted hallways, moaning and thoroughly enjoying herself with a man that most definitely was not her boyfriend. That was how it all started.

Secret correspondence and casual meetings followed. Every time she would receive one of his notes or calls, she would hesitate and every time she gave in. She couldn't stop herself; he made her feel passionate, naughty, and desirable. It was everything she never felt with Alex thus she became addicted.

Over time, their pattern seemed to change. It started with simple words after they were intimate and soon she found herself spending nights in his house. It went to a point where she would see Alex maybe once in two or three weeks for a date and spend almost every other day with Theodore.

After sometime she realized that her feelings for the two men had begun to change. Theodore had become her confidant and lover. On the other hand she found herself forgetting about the dates with Alex, arriving late when he called her, zoning out when he talked to her. She was figuring out what to do when the unexpected happened.

They were lying in his bed, quietly content after a night full of activity when her lips, engaged by a sleepy mind, betrayed her. “I think… I love you.” Time froze. In one swift movement, her lover had stood from the bed and had placed his robe around his shoulders, apparating away.

She remembered how she had sat there; hurt and humiliated beyond belief. It had taken all the strength and courage that she could muster to get dressed and leave that night. That was two weeks ago.

Truth to be told, when Alex had found Theodore's waistcoat under her bed, she felt relieved. Everything would be out in the open, she could move on but once again reality turned out to be quite different than her thoughts. Alex opened up to her about his behaviour and promised to work less, be with her more and that he wanted to marry her. Before she could blink, he was down on his knee, proposing to her.

“I… I need time, Alex.”

Now here she was, lamenting unrequited love and cursing her fate.

A week later -

[Y/N] pushed open the door of her flat with a tired sigh. She tossed her shoes into their space in her coat closet with one hand as she released the clip that held her hair with the other. Moving towards the kitchen cabinet, she uncorked the wine bottle and took a sip directly from the bottle.

“Long day?” A deep voice asked her.

She turned on her feet and observed the man in front of her. Theodore was sitting on the couch as if he owned the place. “What. Do. You. Want?” She asked slowly, proud of the bitterness in her voice. “Theodore…”

He didn't verbally respond; calling her to him with a gesture of his hands. She wanted to shout at him but she couldn't. He made her weak. He reached up with his fingers for her left hand, his thumb brushing over the plain gold band that sat there.

“I'm engaged…” She tried to stop the teasing fingertips from continuing their journey of exploring her body.

“Well… you're not married yet. It's just a ring.” He whispered, holding her face to make her look at him. She felt the pads of his fingertips gripping the ring on her third finger and slowly sliding it off. A metallic clink resonated in her ears as the ring fell to the floor.

The fight drained out of her as she sunk into her lover's arms. Her knees folding under her as his lips joined with hers. She knew that this night would be their final goodbye.

“Where is your engagement ring?”

“I… I must have forgotten it.”

“Forgotten it? On the night of our engagement party?” Alex questioned incredulously. They were interrupted by some other guests and they easily fell into the conversation, saving [Y/N] from trying to come up with more lies.

“How are you doing, Codnor?” Another voice interrupted the couple. Alex cursed seeing the person who disturbed his conversation with his fiancèe.

“How did you even enter, Nott? This is an invitation only party so kindly leave before I kick you out.”

Theodore smirked, raising his closed fist over [Y/N]'s glass of champagne. One by one he uncurled his fingers, dropping something small and shiny. Alex had a look of confusion and shock on his features as he realized that in the glass was [Y/N]'s engagement ring.

“I know I wasn't invited, Codnor, but I am here to collect what's mine… don't look so shocked. She hasn't been yours for a while.”

Before she could think, Alex punched Theodore, hard… and a fight started between the two. Alex's parents changed the topic and sent the guests on their way to save their image of respectful people. It wasn't until [Y/N] physically pulled Theodore back that he stopped. Even though Alex was almost as tall as Theodore, he was no match for his muscles and strength.

“When did this… this thing start? Tell me everything, [Y/N]… honestly this time.” Alex pleaded.

“Six months ago. I was angry at you and I know it is wrong but… when I did go to the party, alone, no one paid any attention to me. Didn't even greet me with a simple ‘hello’. I felt as though I was only someone if I was with you. I felt so worthless. Theodore was at the party. He annoyed me and I took my anger out on him… I don't know how but the next thing I remember is kissing him; one thing lead to another and here we are… I am sorry Alex. I don't deserve you.”

Alex scoffed. He left immediately after throwing the ring down. His mouth did not say a word but his eyes conveyed the anger and disgust he was feeling at her.

[Y/N] turned to Theodore. “Well. It was a long day. Thank you for ruining my engagement party. Now I think we should go.” She stood from her chair but Theodore pulled her back by her wrist, making her sit on his lap. “What is it?” She asked him.

“You asked me that day, if I feel anything at all for you. The answer is, I don't. I feel everything for you, Miss [Y/N] [Y/L/N].” He said cupping her face in his hands and pressed his lips on hers.

She smiled in their kiss knowing for sure that the man whom she gave her heart to would do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy now that he finally realised what she meant to him.

THE END.

Note - i have written a Tommy Shelby version of this one, you can find it here if you are interested. I thought this one screams “Theo” so why not make a Theo version too.